It's basically a rough summary of an AU of HP before they're going over to the World of Ice and Fire.
Castle Hogwarts, 1992.
After Professor Dumbledore had left the Hospital Wing Harry laid on his bed a good while, despite having been cleared to leave by Madam Pomfrey. 'Voldemort can still come back without the stone, huh?' he thought with a sort of detached melancholy. A part of him had known that before even asking the question, but Harry had hoped the answer to be different nonetheless. Then again the madman had been able to make problems without a body of his own.
This whole year he had tried his best to not make a fuss or attract attention. Just to not jeopardize his chance at escaping the Dursleys for most of the year. Yet, things seemed to have conspired to pull him into trouble anyway. Some of it admittedly his own fault, even if some punishments seemed weird to him. Like being sent into the apparently exceedingly dangerous Forbidden Forest after curfew for being out of bounds after curfew.
'Maybe I should've ignored Quirrel going after the stone? After all, he wouldn't have been able to get it out of the mirror.' he mused but shook his head at that line of thought. How should he have known how well the Philosopher's Stone was protected in the first place? He was just a first year who had had no idea this whole world existed a year ago. Ironically, a couple of first year students had been able to solve all of the obstacles. Just an assurance of investigation by McGonagall would've sufficed for him to let the matter go. Instead she had blown him off as if he had insulted her personally.
In the end it didn't really matter whose fault what was. Because if there was one thing he learned at the Dursleys, then it was the fact that people like Voldemort wouldn't stop coming for him. It didn't matter how much you wanted for them to stop pestering you, how well you hid or how far you ran. In the end the bullies always followed or found you, doing it with a reason or without. The same seemed to be true for the Boy-Who-Lived, which was especially galling due to him not remembering anything of that Halloween but screams and misery.
'Is that what I want? To be hunted all the time by Voldemort and others?' Harry questioned himself, his small hands balling into fists. No, that was decidedly not what he wanted. Harry desired to not be in the spotlight, but fate wasn't so kind as to grant him that desire. 'Well, since when did I ever get what I wanted?' the small wizard chuckled in empty amusement, a sound that shouldn't pass the lips of an eleven year old child.
Another problem that became readily apparent was that he was hopelessly outclassed magically. What could he do against a wizard that apparently was able to refuse death? Someone who had decades of magical training and experience on him. "It seems its either do or die." he murmured. Not that such a state, one without any choice on his part, was anything new to the young wizard.
With that he hopped off the bed, thinking about revising this year during the holidays, reading ahead would also not be amiss. It wasn't like he'd have any friends over during the summer holidays anyway. May as well make the monotone days productive. "Maybe I could ask Flamel for help?" the young wizard wondered aloud. Though, he didn't know if destroying the Philosopher's Stone would endear him to the old Alchemist. Either way, he resolved to at least ask by sending Hedwig.
Before he left Harry took the advice of Professor Dumbledore and made a start on the sweets beside his bed. Seeing that the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans was already open Harry took a chocolate brown one, to hopefully be on the safe side. As soon as he bit down he spit it out and heaved, just so prevented himself from puking. "Bleaaargh... shit!" he spit it out quickly, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth.
Unknown to Harry, that was going to be the usual result when taking advice from Albus Dumbledore concerning non-academic subjects.
Castle Hogwarts, 1993.
Harry was once more in the Hospital Wing, reminiscing about the year he had while Madam Pomfrey bustled about the room. His summer had been uneventful, but he at least did convince his relatives that he had homework to complete, and that they best not disturb him. He even had gotten a reply from Nicholas Flamel, telling him to study the enclosed books. Any possible apprenticeship would be decided later on, if at all. Harry didn't think much would come of it, what with Nicholas only having enough to put his affairs in order, according to Professor Dumbledore. At least he got some rudimentary instruction out of it.
The beginning of the usual trouble began with Dobby trying his best to expel him. After that came the mess with the closed portal to the station and the flying car of the Weasleys. Trouble naturally didn't stray far from Harry afterwards. In December Harry had a little hope for the freshly founded Duelling Club.
It hadn't gone well at all, what with that ponce Lockhart teaching nothing of any real value. 'And I had looked forward so much to the Duelling Club.' it would have been a great opportunity to begin his skills with offensive magic and continue to hone them. Alas it was a disappointment and even detrimental to him after basically outing himself as a Parselmouth. Not that the ability held any negative meaning to Harry at the time.
Of course, the mass of students whispering behind his back shortly followed that. Even if somewhere along the line it lost its sting to him. Especially because it made no sense for him to be the Heir of Slytherin just because he could speak Parseltongue. He wasn't in Slytherin House and the reason why he should attack Muggleborn students while his mother had been one eluded him still. Well, sheep would believe what sheep believed.
'No one ever accused them of being logical.' he mused, strangely used to this treatment by now so that he could ignore it nearly entirely.
Naturally things escalated even further, with more and more people, and even ghosts, being petrified over the months. It even got so far that Hagrid was sent to Azkaban on trumped up charges and Headmaster Dumbledore being removed from his position. All of it finally culminated in Ginny Weasley being taken into the fabled Chamber of Secrets by whatever force orchestrated these occurrences.
Harry looked over the still petrified body of Hermione lying beside his own bed, feeling immense gratitude well up inside him for her loyalty to him. As well as another feeling he couldn't really pin down or identify. Without her he wouldn't have been able to put the pieces together where the Chamber was located and try to rescue Ginny. The emphasis was on try.
That thought caused him to look at the redhead lying motionless on a bed nearby, a shroud draped over her form and just waiting for her family to arrive. The stone in Harry's stomach still sat there uncomfortably, reminding him of his part in Ginny's demise. Harry remembered the fight with the overgrown snake well, but on his mind was something completely different; namely that which happened after the basilisk's death. He had successfully destroyed the diary, but Tom's apparition didn't vanish. With the nearly corporeal youth gloating that the process was too far advanced to be stopped now.
Harry had briefly contemplated killing Ginny to stop the transfer of life-force, but couldn't bring himself to kill the little sister of his best mate without one last attempt. Tom had postulated endlessly near him, of course; an opportunity Harry used then. In his desperation Harry had tried to replicate what happened in his first year with Quirrel, hopefully burning Tom with his touch. If ghosts could be petrified then maybe they could burn as well?
It worked, but not how Harry had expected.
Instead of screaming due to being on fire, Harry's touch combined with most likely some accidental magic brought about by sheer distress seemed to drain the life back out of Tom. With his seeker's reflexes Harry quickly and instinctively grabbed a hold of Ginny's hand, managing to somehow transfer the life back into her as Voldemort's fading shade screamed obscenities at him. However, the drain on Ginny and what he managed to take from Voldemort were about equal and so they were at a standstill. With no other choice Harry had to drive the Sword of Gryffindor into the small girl's heart, killing her and removing Tom's access to life-energy as it all left Ginny at once.
While devastated, it also left Harry confused as to what exactly happened down there. Not that Dumbledore was of any help to him, only giving him the usual platitudes. Though, with his usual twinkle absent.
"Dobby." Harry whispered once Madam Pomfrey was gone for the night, hoping the little guy would hear him and also serve as a distraction to his heavy thoughts.
Without a sound the House-elf appeared at Harry's bedside. "What can Dobby do for Master Harry?" the little elf whispered in a conspirational manner.
"Master?" Harry questioned, the words tumbling out in surprise. Normally the small elf just called him sir.
Dobby immediately fidgeted as if caught in a lie. "Dobby did wrong!" he exclaimed loudly, followed by wailing while trying to bash his head in via a metal bedframe.
"Stop that!" Harry hissed, not wanting the other occupants to wake up. Once Dobby did as told the wizard said. "I'm not angry, just surprised. Now, what did you mean by calling me master?" Through much tears and proclamations of his greatness, Harry finally learned that the House-elf was now bound to him. "I thought you wanted to be a free elf?"
Dobby nodded so strongly Harry feared his head might fly off, his large ears flapping about. "Dobby does, but he likes work more! No witch or wizard would pay an elf."
"I see." Harry told him, feeling responsible for the mess Dobby was now in due to having tricked Lucius Malfoy into freeing the elf. Not that he regretted freeing Dobby from such abuse. "You can work for me, but I won't have much for you to do while outside of Hogwarts." not that Dobby could do much about his chores at the Dursleys, what with magic being forbidden there. He even had the reprimand to prove it. Luckily, none of the Dursleys saw the warning arrive. Otherwise they wouldn't leave him alone like they now did, his chores having been cut in half last summer and allowing him his magical things and books to study. Harry didn't care why that was, but guessed it was what motivated most of their actions; fear.
After even more tears and praises Harry finally calmed the elf down enough to give him something to do. "Anyway, I wanted to ask if you could pop down into the Chamber of Secrets and look if there is anything else useful like a library, artefacts or something." Harry couldn't imagine that the place was only relegated for the Basilisk. It was a slim hope that Riddle didn't plunder anything of real value in the past. Or that any books survived centuries exposed to the dampness down there undamaged. Still, Harry didn't want to miss out any possible advantage he could get to fight Voldemort.
"Dobby will do!" the small being saluted solemnly before popping away.
While he waited for the elf to return Harry pondered about what happened between him and Tom's spectral self. He could push the result onto his mother's protection, but it didn't feel right to do so. After all, halfway through whatever happened he couldn't really touch the ghostly being anymore. Yet, he was able to continue the process despite it.
It took less time than anticipated for Dobby to return. "Dobby found books, Master Harry!" the elf announced as he bounced on the soles of his feet. "Dobby put them in Master Harry's trunk."
"Oh, how many did you find?" he grimaced but ignored the title Dobby bestowed upon him, knowing from prior experience that it was futile to tell him to stop. Some disappointment then took hold of him, if the books fit inside his trunk then it couldn't be that many.
"Dobby found twelve books that weren't completely rotted and restored them!" the elf told him, his small chest puffed up proudly.
Harry smiled at that, hoping the books would be useful. "Did you find anything else, or have any other ideas?"
"Master Harry could sell corpse of big bad snake for money or make it into potion ingredients. It's Master Harry's per law." the excitable elf told him. "Dobby heard bad former master talk about hating such laws." he nodded resolutely. "Yes, Dobby did."
That was news to Harry, which in itself wasn't surprising. His knowledge of the Magical World was severely limited. Suppressing his annoyance, Harry asked. "Where would I go, or who do I ask to to get it done?" at least the carcass was protected and shouldn't be accessible to anyone else than him.
"Dobby doesn't know, Master Harry!" the elf responded, seemingly on the verge of tears once more. It had been an emotional day for the little guy.
Just to prevent just that Harry tried to intervene. "Thank you, Dobby. You're a great friend and have given me much to think about."
That seemed both the right and worst thing to say as the now bawling elf launched himself at Harry, hugging his midriff so strongly he though bones might break. All the while Harry sighed. It was clear he had a lot of thinking and preparing to do.
Castle Hogwarts, 1994.
Harry's heart clenched painfully in his chest at the sight of the silent figure sitting on the bed without moving, looking like a statue for all intents and purposes. He couldn't even notice her breathe in or out. Yet, he knew nothing he could say would make the situation better in any way. Only time could hopefully manage that.
Third year had begun earlier than expected and promised to be better than ever. What with his prolonged visit to Diagon Alley after being thrown out of the Dursleys and his stay at the Leaky Cauldron. It was highly fortuitous, enabling him to run several errands. Under them making arrangements to have the Basilisk rendered down and the parts he couldn't use sold on the market. He also got to know the Magical World a little better and familiarize himself with it. Even visiting Knockturn Alley for any hints on what happened in the Chamber of Secrets, and being successful as well.
Of course things went downhill from there. The Hogwarts Express had been boarded by Dementors, which would've sucked his soul out if not for Professor Lupin's intervention. The constant tension between Ron and Hermione due to Crookshanks hunting what they now knew to be Pettigrew in his Animagus form. Not that Ron spent all that much time with Harry anymore after last year. Killing one's younger sister would do that to anybody, good reason or not, Harry supposed. The Sirius Black debacle was just the cherry on top.
One initial positive amongst it all had seemingly been a new teacher for History of Magic, a Professor Olivia Vitae. Binns still held his lessons in the same room, but nobody had attended them for this year. And just like Binns their new teacher was an undead; a vampire to be exact. Though, she had been much more informative and engaging. It's also what caused Hermione to be in her current predicament, having been bitten and transformed by the frenzied vampire during their adventure to rescue Sirius from execution. The professor having entered a frenzy after smelling Harry's blood for reasons unknown to him, having been wounded during the adventure to save Sirius.
"I'm sorry." Harry blurted out, sitting at the bedside for once. "If I wouldn't have dragged you into my mess again, this wouldn't have happened." it reminded him painfully of his failure with Ginny. 'I'm still too weak!' he thought enraged at himself. There was a desperation to him, fear lacing his words; the fear of losing his last real friend. Ron having drifted away further and further during the school year. By now their friendship could barely be called that anymore.
Hermione didn't acknowledge him in any way for a while, simply staring ahead eerily and without blinking. There was no body-language for Harry to read whatsoever.
"Don't be silly, Harry." she finally said, turning towards him. Her eyes were no longer an enticing and warm chocolate brown, but a deep and cold crimson with slitted pupils to allow for better sight at night. Hermione attempted a smile, though she stopped when she noticed his eyes flickering to her now extremely sharp teeth. Instead of buckteeth she now had fangs. "I chose to follow you and you even rescued me from Professor Vitae." the name was spit out with more venom than Harry was used to from Hermione. Her usual respectful attitude to authority utterly absent right now. "Though, I'm curious how you managed to destroy her. I've never seen nor heard of that spell."
Harry knew it was a question to distract herself with, to not be forced to be confronted with her new state of being. In truth he had been lucky said vampire hadn't paid him any mind as she fed on his best friend. Otherwise he doubted his chance of survival would've been high. However, before he could attempt to answer or evade the question the door to the Hospital Wing was opened. A moment later Dumbledore strode through.
"Ah, Harry, Ms Granger." the old man greeted them, but without any of his usual joviality. "I'm here to check up on you and answer any question you may have."
Uncharacteristically Hermione snorted as she crossed her arms defiantly, startling Harry with the action. "You mean informing me about my expulsion." the bite was real in her voice. "I know enough about vampires that there is no cure and that I can't use a witch's magic anymore. Only that which is inherent to vampires." the condition came with its own advantages and drawbacks. But most importantly, she now was a creature of inversed good; a paradox, a thing of white and black mixed in unholy conjunction. She was dead, yet sought life.
"You are correct in your assessment of your future abilities, Ms Granger." Dumbledore sighed regretfully, sitting down next to her bed after conjuring a stool. "Alas, all blood was drained from you and you need to take from others to replenish it, to make it truly your own. A fact many blood-purists point to when arguing that it is the blood which grants us our magic."
"I'll be expelled like Professor Lupin, then." was Hermione's scathing conclusion mixed with sorrow.
Harry interrupted, his voice hard and resolute. "No, you won't! Vampires are counted as beings." otherwise a known vampire wouldn't have gotten a position as a professor. Besides, he'd do anything to keep her where she belonged, at Hogwarts and by his side. Another outcome was too painful to consider. The young but powerful wizard turned to his headmaster. "I'll pay Hermione's tuition if I have to, as well as possible other expenses such as Nyx' Embrace!"
"Oh? You're quite well versed in the requirements of vampires to walk in the light of day, Harry." Dumbledore commented curiously, his blue eyes void of their twinkle as they assessed the youth before him. A frown hidden behind his beard.
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, not meeting those blue eyes of the older wizard. "I was curious about our late Professor Vitae at the beginning of the year and did some research. I'd be a fool to not learn from my previous two years and my confrontations with professors of this school." he smiled regretfully at Hermione. "While I was wrong in which professor would target me, it still paid off." Harry turned back to Albus, trying to project a confidence he was not feeling. "I guessed you provided Professor Vitae with the salve, just like you supplied Lupin with Wolfsbane."
"Indeed." came Dumbledore's dry answer back.
Hermione felt the need to interject then. "That has to be horribly expensive." she sputtered, waving her hands frantically. The first real sign of life from her body. "I can't ask that of you! It'd be wasted on me, if I couldn't use what I learned anyway."
"Wasted?!" Harry countered incensed, his emerald eyes nearly aglow as he growled out. "Is a Muggle education wasted on people just because they won't use everything or even most of it through their lives?" the question hung in the air, but Harry didn't let anyone answer. "If there is anyone who it isn't wasted on, it's you. You're still able to make potions, learn Herbology, Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, History of Magic and Care for Creatures. You can even learn the theory of subjects that require a wand, and I know you would enjoy it!" the passionate appeal was delivered with a fierce intensity, his emerald eyes never leaving Hermione's during it. "You were ready to give your life for me. What kind of a rubbish friend would I be to discard you now as you need me the most? Besides, who says there will never be a cure for it? Plenty impossible things happen around me, I hear!"
The Headmaster chuckled at that. "I think you'll not be able to convince Harry otherwise, Ms Granger." he leaned forward a bit and added. "You picked your friends well. I for one will do my utmost to see your continued education at Hogwarts secured."
"Thank you!" the now undead girl said thickly to Harry, hugging him carefully while tears of blood were rolling down her cheeks.
Dumbledore looked at them fondly, letting the two friends have their moment before saying. "Sadly, I'm sure that the Board of Governors needs some reassurance from Ms Granger." a weary sigh escaped him, followed by him stroking his beard in thought. "I'll need to ponder a solution for that some more." a look to a nearby clock caused him to say. "Alas, my other duties call. Have a good night, Ms Granger, Harry." he nodded to both of them before standing up and biding them farewell.
It was silent for a little while Harry let Hermione calm down again, wiping her cheeks clean.
"Did you mean it?" the newly made vampire suddenly asked. "That you'd do all those things for me?"
"Of course!" the answer came fast and sure, not a trace of doubt in his voice. "Though, I'm a little bit hurt that you think me such a tosser as to throw my best friend away so callously."
"You've pretty much done the same over the Firebolt!" she replied quietly, followed by her becoming unsure.
Harry nodded, not taking his hand away from hers. "True, but it wasn't so much about the Firebolt as it was about you going behind my back." green eyes never left hers to show his honesty. "Besides, you've also ignored my concerns about your utterly ridiculous schedule this year, exhausting yourself with what I now know was that Time-Turner of yours. Only difference is that I trusted your judgement on the matter. We all have our secrets, after all."
"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, knowing that he was right about that. "It's just that you're my best friend and I didn't wanna lose you to some potentially cursed broom! "
He smiled softly at that, having know that her heart was in the right place. Even if it had annoyed him something fierce. "Just like I don't want to lose you now."
Hermione's smile showed her sharp fangs this time, but it also had a bitter and resigned edge to it. "I don't think that's going to happen with who we know is on the Board of Governors. If Professor Lupin was thrown out for being a werewolf, I'm pretty sure a vampire isn't going to be accepted as a student." she hadn't seen a single one with any type creature heritage in Hogwarts in her three years here. So she wasn't holding her breath, not that she needed to breathe anymore. "Especially after what happened with Professor Olivia."
"It will not be easy." he agreed. "However as I said before, vampires rate as beings and have the privileges associated with it." his smile turned a little feral. "I'll throw my weight as the Boy-Who-Lived around if I have to. Even take it to court when everything else fails!"
That alone told Hermione more than anything that Harry meant what he said. Him willingly using his fame was a rarity and not something he'd normally even consider. "How do you know these things? We haven't learned that anywhere. Much less the spell you used to save me with." she had briefly forgotten to drill him about it, clearly showing her distress.
"I knew that you would remember that." he teased her a little after letting loose a sigh. "Just as the Time-Turner was your secret, that's mine. But I won't tell you here." with that he stood up and beckoned her to follow him.
Her curiosity peaked Hermione made to follow. Not at all unsteady on her legs and having no trouble with catching up to him. If anything she was much faster than before. On an on they went through the moonlit corridors of the school until they arrived at a familiar bathroom.
"Our destination is Myrtle's bathroom?" came her perplexed question, remembering their misadventure with Polyjuice.
"Not exactly." Harry looked around for Myrtle. Thankfully the amorous ghost wasn't here right now. He approached the snake-engraved sink and hissed. §Open§ shortly after stone ground on stone as the structure rearranged itself to form a slide downward. "The Chamber of Secrets is our real destination."
All Hermione brought out was a surprised. "Oh." though, her curiosity was peaked something fierce as she looked down into the dark hole. "Why would the entrance be in a girl's bathroom?"
Harry chuckled at that, having asked himself the same question. "Well, it wasn't always so." he explained, gesturing to the sink. "In the beginning the entrance was a simple trapdoor. Only once the plumping at Hogwarts became more elaborate, and the chamber's existence was threatened by the proposal of a new girls' bathroom, did someone take steps to keep it concealed."
Enraptured by the new knowledge revealed, Hermione asked. "And who was that?"
"Someone named Corvinus Gaunt." Harry replied easily. Dobby had found the boy's diary in the chamber that mentioned some of its history. "That wasn't in Hogwarts: A History, was it?" he teased good-naturedly, trying to lift her spirits a bit.
She glared at him, her lips threatening to form a grin. "You prat."
Both jumped down the slide shortly after, arriving at the entrance to the chamber proper immediately afterwards. Hermione looked around the subterranean corridor, taking in the pillars around which carved snakes coiled upwards. Her new vision enabling her to see in the dark without problems. Only for her to gasp in wonder when the ceiling began to softly glow, revealing small crystals embedded over their heads like spectral stars.
"It's beautiful." she murmured, taking it all in. Water dripped from each serpent's mouth like a leaky spigot, and trickled down the pillars in sheets to gather in small pools along the cobbled path. Each brimmed with water of strange and alluring hues—jade green there, deep violet here. She wondered how the cave didn't fill up, but just as the water found its way down through the stone, so too must it seep out somehow.
"Thank you. The redecoration took a little while." Harry commented idly, relishing a little in her dumbfounded look. "Though, I did have help from Dobby."
"That's what you did during weekends and when Ron and I were on Hogsmeade trips when you didn't sneak out to follow!" the mischievous smile told her all she needed to know. The hits just kept on coming, so much so that Hermione simply followed him, watching his back and wondering what else he had kept secret. She was determined to find out, but also hoping that he trusted her enough so that he would reveal things on his own. After all, Harry was a very private person. Even if she didn't know just how much until now.
Finally they arrived at a dead end, a wall with two intertwined snakes depicted on it. With another hissed §Open§ the wall rearranged itself much like the entrance to Diagon Alley at the Leaky Cauldron.
The cavern that was revealed by the hidden opening sprawled beyond her sight, with walls like a fortress soaring upward hundreds of feet. The darkness would've been absolute were it not for the soft glow emanating from seams of silver veining the floors, wall, and ceiling. The light cast wavering reflections across the slate grey stone.
However, what captured Hermione's attention immediately wasn't the towering statue standing at the end of the titanic room. Nor the dark beauty of it all. It was the gigantic skeleton lying in the middle of the chamber, one of its massive fangs broken and missing. "Please tell me that's not the 'large snake' you've fought against!" Hermione demanded shrilly, whirling around to face him, her crimson eyes glowing in the darkness and demanding an answer.
"Then I'd have to lie to you, Hermione." he admitted softly.
Slightly hysterical, she asked. "Are there any more surprises I should know about?!"
With a sigh Harry enveloped his best friend in a hug to try and calm her down. He painfully noticed her missing breath and heartbeat, feeling her cold skin against his warm one. "A few, but before that we have to reach our destination." he took her hand and led her further along and away from the foyer. Through another hidden passage they went, this one narrower and smaller than the one before.
The massive, rectangular room spanned almost half the entire length of the foyer—a vaulted, two-story hall lined with shelves and laden with tomes of all kinds. Papers and scrolls lay scattered across a small reading table set with cushioned chairs. Hermione's eyes found themselves inexplicably drawn to the far end of the room where an elaborate ritual circle was carved on the floor.
"How did these books survive for so long?" Hermione was nearly vibrating in place, taking one of them before putting it back and inspecting a few others. "Those are from the restricted section!" she had recognized the titles at once, despite only having been in there once or twice. "And is that the Sword of Gryffindor?!" on the wall hung the silver sword like some decorative piece. Beside it stood a mannequin clothed in armour made out of hide, with scales of vivid and shimmering poisonous green colour. Both the trousers and shirt were flexible, but sturdy, and lined inside with black Acromantula silk of exquisite quality to prevent chaffing.
"The bloody thing won't leave me alone." Harry grimaced, looking at the sword. Ever since the Chamber of Secrets the sword always sought him out. "I also didn't steal the books, if that's your concern." Harry explained, ordering the clutter with a flick of his wand before sitting down at the reading table. "I copied them."
"You're studying Alchemy?!" she looked at the notes now stacked high, seeing the formulae associated with that obscure branch of magic. With a huff the newly made vampire joined him at the table, sitting down opposite of Harry. "Explain!" her voice brokered no argument.
So Harry did, beginning the story with the tale of what exactly happened in the Chamber of Secrets, from which point the Sword of Gryffindor simply appeared at his side and refused to leave. Followed by what he did with the Basilisk by employing people to render it down after having smuggled them into Hogwarts during the winter holidays, when pretty much no one else was here. He also mentioned that he now employed Dobby. The excitable House-elf was working at Hogwarts and extremely useful in acquiring knowledge. Over the year he had taken books from the restricted section, which were then copied by an enchanted quill before being returned without anyone being the wiser.
"So that's why the Basilisk was only a skeleton." Hermione commented, still looking at the library in front of her that contained books normally out of her reach. "I knew you took your studies more seriously since last year, but thought you gave up this year when I saw you picked Divination as an elective." what she saw from the course didn't instil Hermione with any desire to learn more. Like Ron said, an easy elective. Though, Harry getting material from Nicholas Flamel about Alchemy told her that he did take his studies seriously now. Even if it was just the beginnings of the craft, the man's expertise alone was priceless.
Harry chuckled. "I can see how you'd get that impression about Divination. However, Trewlany is a real seer no matter how she comes across." he had seen her make a real prophecy as well. "The problem is that the useful stuff isn't on the curriculum due to how bothersome it'd be for the Ministry."
Raising an eyebrow in interest, Hermione leaned forward. "How so?"
"Divination isn't just dealing with predicting the future or interpreting dreams, despite being depicted that way. In essence it's magic dealing with information. The Trace on each wand is divination magic, as is the magic responsible for selecting who gets to attend Hogwarts. And even a so called Taboo, which is what Voldemort used to detect and locate a person using his moniker, and why people are still afraid to say his name today. Even Legilimency or mind-reading, as it is better known, falls under the umbrella of divination." Harry could see that Hermione understood what the implications were. The few books Dobby had brought him from this very chamber had been worth their weight in gold.
"While looking into the future is like watching into a murky pond full of ripples due to the sheer possibilities, the past can also be observed, but with crystal clarity." it had already happened and was set in stone, after all. "You could watch the founders weave their magic, for example." or watch your own parents attend Hogwarts, quarrel, fall in love and have a child before disaster struck. He hadn't been able to bring himself to watch that Halloween night yet. Though, with the knowledge of Pettigrew he had a reason to try.
"Sounds fascinating!" there was a raw hunger in her voice as the sheer possibilities. A little bit of drool escaped past her lips. "Still, why do you need all these other dangerous books?" she gestured around the room to all the enticing books, but she knew some of them not only contained dangerous knowledge but also were protected by curses.
Harry sighed and decided to simply rip the band-aid off, so to speak. "It's because what I found out from one book in Knockturn Alley." without a word and a flick of his wand he summoned the tome in question, laying it out on the table for her to see. "I'm a Necromancer, Hermione."
"Huh?" it was a testament to how shocked she was that Hermione's mouth hung open. "What gave you that idea?!" she sputtered out in disbelief. The image of some dark figure raising the undead was incompatible with Harry in her mind. If anything he would fight against such people.
Hoping that she wouldn't stand up and flee, Harry explained. "Do you remember me being invited to the Death-day party of Headless Nick, Myrtle flirting with me and the unhealthy interest Dementors have in me?" at her hesitant nod he continued. "Those are apparently all signs of someone having an extremely strong affinity to Necromancy. That and being able to see Thestrals." being a Necromancer was like and unlike a Metamorphmagus. It wasn't hereditary, but someone still needed an affinity to be one. Though, it was poorly understood due to the stigma attached to the art.
"Thestrals?"
"A kind of Pegasus. They're invisible to people who haven't seen death and come to terms with it." the wizard told her. "They pull the carriages to and from Hogsmeade." he had seen them at the beginning of this year, a painful reminder of Ginny and his failure. Harry pushed the book towards her, inviting her to take it. "You can read and look for yourself, if you wish."
She snatched the book and began reading, her now red eyes dancing over the yellowed pages faster than ever before. Those crimson orbs widened or narrowed at different points, sometimes flickering to himself and back. After taking all the relevant information she stared at him a good bit before saying softly. "Only you, Harry." her face circled through a few emotions before it held some unidentifiable one in it. "Isn't it dangerous? And where does that leave us?" a dark part of her wondered if he wanted to resurrect his parents, to try and fix his family.
"All magic can become dangerous." he pointed out. "It's not like I raise zombies or anything. Even Necromancy has benign applications, like banishing hostile ghosts, protecting graveyards or effectively dealing with undead creatures such as vampires. Even the Patronus is a form of Necromancy, strictly speaking." it summoned a spectral guardian, after all.
Hermione was glad that she couldn't blush in embarrassment anymore. "Right."
"As for where it leaves us, well; I dearly hope we're still friends. I showed you all of this because I trust you and think we can find a cure for your condition." Harry said, holding up a hand as she opened her mouth to interject. "Before you say its impossible, keep in mind that me surviving the killing curse was also deemed an impossibility. As was me mastering the Patronus Charm at age thirteen. Besides, you're the smartest person I know. Together we can surely manage it." He also had the Flamels as a potential avenue for information or ideas.
It took a while for Hermione to stop staring and answer. "Thank you!" was all she could tell him again, her voice thick with gratitude.
Castle Hogwarts, 1995.
The smile on Harry's face couldn't be wiped off, even by the now sporadic spasms his body was experiencing courtesy of the Cruciatus. 'Tom really should've chosen a better place than a graveyard to fight me.' Harry thought amused. Graveyards, crypts, cairns, sepulchres and battlefields; all the places where death was in abundance empowered Necromancers the most.
He hadn't been able to kill Tom, that much was true. Not that Harry had expected to manage that feat just yet, what with the sheer difference in experience and the other disadvantages he had. Still, Harry did put up a good fight, taking out a good chunk of Death Eaters and with them their support of Voldemort.
Although that wasn't what had Harry in such a good mood. It was the ritual with which Tom had revived himself with that peaked Harry's interest. Which was also the reason why the last Potter hadn't escaped during it or tried to sabotage it. He simply needed to know the procedure in it entirety. 'Too bad that I don't know what the potion contained before it began properly. At least I have a promising lead to cure Hermione.'
Even so, things also went awry. Pettigrew escaped once more, not that Fudge would've listened to anyone that didn't blow smoke up his arse. As such Harry didn't even try to convince the man of Voldemort's return, knowing it was futile to convince a coward of such a calibre. Instead he simply claimed a Portkey malfunction had occurred. Thankfully, Harry had been first at the cup and not one of the other champions were put in harm's way.
It was a rather mixed year, all things considered. He lost Ron's friendship entirely after the redhead accused Harry of entering his name into the Goblet of Fire. Though, at that point it had already hung by a thin thread. Ron's extreme prejudice against Hermione's new state of being finished what the last few years had started. Not that the other students were positively inclined towards Harry or Hermione, even though they had no reason to shun them other than being sheep.
Not that Harry minded the social isolation outside of Hermione. Much the opposite, in fact. Harry's special permission as a Champion to ignore some of his classes also gave them ample time to learn and prepare on their own. A fact that only drove Harry and Hermione closer together over the year. Not that they could be much closer than they were under the circumstances.
"Harry." a sibilant voice hissed, alerting him to Hermione's presence, though he had felt her coming much earlier. Soon shadows lengthened at the edges of the room until finally they coalesced into the form of Hermione. Like all vampires she had become as beautiful and lissome as a Veela to better ensnare potential victims. Even if she only had a single person in her unlife she wanted or needed to drink from.
Her hair wasn't as bushy anymore, instead it had become a mass of lazy curls and ringlets. Pale skin of immaculate porcelain bordered on a sick or deathly pallor, but only just. While her nails had changed to sharp black claws, much like her teeth having changed to deadly fangs. Though, her heart-shaped face was the most lovely to behold. It was not merely comely, but possessed truly striking features. Those included high cheekbones, heavily-hooded eyes and luscious lips set on a perfectly symmetrical heart-shaped face.
Around her neck hung a spherical pearl on an intricate golden chain, too flawless to be anything but a feat of magic. An incandescent sheen seemed to travel across the pearl's surface like paint on water; the muted pinks, creams and violets mesmerizing in their motion. The orb somehow felt substantial, as though it was sombrely occupied by something important. It had been created through their Blood Oath, holding both of their blood joined as one, absorbed into the shimmering globe that now held their sanguine promise.
It helped to fulfil one of the conditions that allowed Hermione's continued education at Hogwarts; namely to not drink blood from unwilling people or assault them. It was not as strong as a Blood Bond to her sire would've been, but enough to restrict her sufficiently. In essence it was a mystic bond between her and Harry, enabling the two to sense each other's presence, emotions and general well-being. The nearer they were, the easier it was to sense and determine such things. This included being able to sense things such as whether the other was sleeping, agitated, in pain, under attack, happy or even intoxicated. It also made it extremely difficult to charm, lie, trick or deceive each other.
However, it also created something of a fixation towards Harry in Hermione, bordering on obsession. 'It could also be the result of her becoming a vampire, or this situation as a whole.' Harry thought guiltily. He was aware that vampires did not just change physically but also mentally, gaining an Id many referred to as the Beast or the Red Thirst. Though, a vampire also gained a tendency to be extremely possessive and develop an obsession for things of importance to them.
"I'm sorry." Harry told her with remorse as he noticed the hunger she was feeling right now. "I forgot you must be starved." he had been out of it for a while, after all. Without further preamble he bared his neck for her. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Hermione wouldn't feed on him in his sleep. Always waiting for permission to do so, even if she didn't need to ask it from him.
Hermione reacted scandalized, clearly ashamed of her own clearly apparent weakness. "You have nothing to be sorry for! Not after all you've been through these past few days." she insisted strongly, swallowing the saliva pooling in her mouth and trying to suppress her unnatural instincts. "I can go without a little while longer." She still remembered the frenzy she had entered after having received a bit of Harry's blood the first time, very nearly draining him dry as a result. It was why she had agreed to a Blood Oath. Such a thing was hard to forget.
The wizard sighed, a mixture of emotions in that simple gesture alone. Exasperation, fondness, love and more. "Go ahead." he told her good-naturedly. "Give me a reminder that you're still there." Many wizards would call such an act reckless or insane, but love did not heed such warnings. Harry never listened to such things anyway. When Hermione looked at him with those hungry eyes, it send a shiver down his spine that was only matched with the fire in his heart.
"Alright." was all she brought out after a hesitation that was too short in her own opinion, but her instincts would not be denied. She promptly sat in his lap, however Hermione didn't simply bite his neck, but instead began by kissing and licking at where she felt his pulse. Being a vampire made sexual intercourse impossible for her, not helped by her body being stuck at fourteen years old. Well, she could have sex technically, but she wouldn't feel much from it. The act of sex was pretty much replaced with feeding. As such Hermione took her time to savour it properly. Harry deserved nothing less, after all.
She took a whiff of that smell only Harry had, something no one else but a vampire would notice. It was not completely a physical scent, per se, more like a combination of that and the scent of his spiritual essence and magic. To her it was a mix of many strong, hardy spices. Not unlike what was used for mummification. It left a bite in her nose and mouth, but overall was a warm and vibrant ward against the hunger inside her being. The powerful flowery scent, this inhalation of joy nearly overwhelmed her, the heady smell making Hermione light-headed. Dark spots swam in the air before her, as if pierced by stars or as if she had hit her head.
Once her fangs pierced his flesh Hermione tasted that delicious crimson nectar. The metallic tang that spilled forth onto her tongue and down her throat made her close her eyes and moan in delight; being nothing less than ambrosia to her. Hermione didn't know just what made Harry's blood so irresistible to her, and presumably other vampires. Was it his necromantic potential or the various magical substances his blood had come into contact with? Maybe the protection woven into his blood by Lily Potter was responsible, or even the simple reason of his virginity? Perhaps a combination of all those things? Either way she didn't care right now to dissect that mystery, as long as she could taste it for the rest of her existence. Though, she had had to learn to savour the taste, to reign in that greedy impulse to take as much as she wanted as fast as possible.
Overall it was an extremely intimate experience, for now even the most intimate experience of their short existences. Both were absolutely paralysed with euphoria, unable to move away and preventing escape by either party.
It took a while to recover from the stupor feeding imposed upon them. Like nearly every time Harry could feel the shame and revulsion emanate from Hermione a few moments afterwards. Still not comfortable with her state of being, what she was forced to do. Unable to be in complete control of herself at all times, to be forced to act illogically.
Hermione was speaking before he could, having felt his own emotion clear as day. "Don't! I'm a monster!" she growled out animalistically with blood dripping from her mouth, not wanting him to deny such a simple truth. "So much so I almost crave a stake through my heart. I wake up each day filled with an unconquerable dread. My mind nearly tears itself apart at the vast void of this potential listless eternity, but then the hunger wakes. Each time it rises it is stronger than before, going through me like a burning flame, consuming any thought of desperation or melancholy. It calls to me sweetly… pulling me toward your throat."
"You're not a monster!" came the firm rebuttal, ignoring her denial, those glowing eyes and his blood dripping from her mouth. These episodes thankfully grew less frequent as time went on, but she had her reasons. It wasn't an easy thing to digest that your own parents rejected what became of you. Not to mention the stigma of a Muggleborn now replaced with that of a vampire, despite their status as beings and not beasts. "But should you still think so, I can tell you that I've found a promising lead."
With that he told her of what happened in the graveyard, igniting hope in her dead heart.
Forbidden Forest, 2003.
An unnatural gloom shrouded these foreboding woods, mist at every tree's root. A wavering shadow was exuded by tree and stone alike, by every shuddering bush and fluttering leaf. Air amid the looming trunks was thick and hot, silent and breathless, but also still, close, and musky with mildew. It was somehow uncomfortably warm and bitterly cold all at once. The gnarled trees closed in, their branches grasping skyward like skeletal limbs, their dusky leaves thronging to oppress light and hope. Only blood-coloured mushrooms and thorny creepers survived in the assembled shadows where the trees whispered and wheedled. Paths among them stretched into darkness, beckoning forebodingly.
Most animals were still sleeping at this hour, only a few owls were gliding silently through the canopy. Trees were just beginning to lose their leaves, only some held gold and red among the green in their boughs.
"We're nearly there." Harry told his only companion. All the labours of the last few years would successfully culminate here, he hoped.
"I hope nobody messed with our preparations." Hermione grumbled behind him, the anticipation and anxiety easily carried by her voice. "I'm hungry enough as it is."
Harry promised her with a chuckle. "When it's over I'll make you a feast worthy of a queen." Harry couldn't help but smile. "Besides, do you really think anyone could've messed with stuff, with all the wards we put up?" he asked rhetorically and with some sarcasm. "You carved the runes yourself. Anyone uninvited coming near it would be befuddled to such a degree they'd have no idea where or who they are." he stopped and took her cold hand in his warm one, smiling at her brightly. "Relax, we've mastered all other trials before. This one shall be no different." he knew Hermione was always the most stressed before an exam, still was. And this was arguably the biggest one of their lives yet.
"I'll hold you to that." the vampire huffed, her lips twitching while threatening to smile until they finally did. All while she squeezed his hand affectionately. "And thank you!" Hermione looked upon him fondly as she did so; noting the various physical changes he had undergone, unlike her.
Somewhere along their education Harry had hit his growth-spurt, his body filling out nicely while collecting more scars. Harry's lean but muscled frame now reaching about 6'2 feet. His hair was still a bird's nest of a jet black colour, spilling like ink from his scalp. Though, his skin's pallor was by now bordering on corpse-like, either through prolonged time spent studying indoors or his practise of necromancy. Hermione suspected the latter, knowing that strong magic left its mark physically. A fact that was shown clearly by Harry's left eye now being a vivid crimson, the pupil slitted like Voldemort's had been and as her own was right now. His right was still that deep and soothing emerald green.
She noted once more how strangely the moonlight, or any light, danced in both of his eyes; like it did ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. As if to give evidence that his very soul had undergone a profound change. 'A remnant of having his soul intertwined with that madman's for such a prolonged time. As well as touching and returning from the lands between.' Hermione thought sadly. Just one more reason why they weren't seen in public often. 'At least, having the Horcrux removed repaired his vision.' she also found the glimmer in them fit him as an experienced diviner.
Otherwise, these past years had been trying for both of them.
Following Voldemort's resurrection things slowly got worse and worse, with disappearances, raids, attacks and deaths mounting. During that time something called the Order of the Phoenix led by Albus Dumbledore was revived in their fifth year. Not that the group was effective or did much of anything; truth be told. Similar to how useless the Aurors largely seemed to be. At least Harry hadn't been dragged into that particular mess at the time and could focus on more important things. Even if Defence against the Dark Arts had declined even more in quality, if such a thing was possible. But the new Professor, a toad-like woman named Umbridge, proved to be the most incompetent during all of their years at Hogwarts. Thankfully, Harry had done enough studying with Hermione to pass his O.W.L exams in Defence with flying colours, unlike the majority of his peers. A fact that was responsible for Umbridge being fired, as well as having tortured students on the side.
Unlike the previous years Harry didn't take a stand this time, knowing it would only land him in trouble and wouldn't be appreciated by staff or students. At the end of that miserable year Dumbledore finally deigned to tell him of the prophecy. Not that it helped Harry in any way to know the useless thing. It being so vague that it could mean all kinds of things, including already being fulfilled during the Halloween of 1980. So, instead of focussing on that, Harry did what he had done in the years before and trained and prepared. All while looking for a cure for Hermione's vampirism.
During their sixth year the war raged in secret, clearly going in favour of the Death Eaters due to the sheer corruption infesting the government. The Ministry itself had barely hung on by a thread, and only because Voldemort laid low to build up his forces, breaking them out of Azkaban, recruiting from the continent and more. During his entire sixth year Dumbledore gave Harry special lessons, or that's what they were called. In truth they hunted for Tom's soul jars or Horcruxes. Harry even managed to use his connection with Voldemort and expertise in Divination to roughly divine the locations of these foul objects, making things considerably easier.
In that year alone they cleansed the Locket of Slytherin, Ravenclaw's Diadem and Hufflepuff's Cup; the last had been the most difficult to obtain. Though, Bill Weasley's connection to Gringotts and some generous bribes helped. The three of them were relics of the Founders and powerful as well and as such their destruction was a sad affair. However, the Gaunt family ring was something the headmaster had destroyed without Harry's help. Unknown to them at the time it held he Resurrection Stone which would become the most important to Harry them shortly after. After all, that one object helped immeasurably with obtaining knowledge; by gaining it from the spirits of the dead.
Seventh year was spent much the same way in the beginning, but then Dumbledore suddenly died from the withering curse inflicted upon him by Tom's Horcrux in the middle of it. Something the old man had kept secret. While Dumbledore did die from the curse directly, it was during a training duel between Harry and the headmaster. At the time Harry hadn't known what to make of it. Not until he found out that Dumbledore had bequeathed a children's book and his personal library to Hermione in his will. While his wand, a Golden Snitch and a Pensieve were designated for Harry. A wand that supposedly was a Deathly Hallow, according to said children's book, and immediately thrummed with contentment and power in his palm. Same as the black stone set in the Gaunt family ring was presumably the Resurrection Stone. Together with his cloak he had all the Deathly Hallows in his possession.
Though, Harry didn't have much time to ponder the mystery for long before the Ministry collapsed in a single day after the funeral. Finally buckling, crumbling down to its rotten and corrupted foundation. Voldemort wasted no time and was on Hogwarts' doorstep swiftly. An army of giants, werewolves, vampires and wizards led by Tom himself.
The battle had been brutal and many perished, but at the end of it all Voldemort was mortal once more due to the death of Nagini. All of his Horcruxes were finally destroyed, including the one inside Harry. Due to him willingly catching a killing curse during battle, having died briefly and meeting Dumbledore in the lands between. While people were grateful to be rid of Voldemort, they didn't appreciate how Harry did it, namely with necromancy. Much stronger necromancy than he'd ever been capable of before having all the Hallows in his possession. Something that gave him much to think about. Though, neither Hermione or Harry knew how the populace expected a Hogwarts student to make a dent in that particular Dark Lord's forces with disarming charms and the like.
On top of it Harry had prevented the masses from killing Voldemort's child, which had been discovered in Malfoy Manor a few weeks after the last battle. Harry wouldn't stoop to the level of Voldemort and so basically adopted the little girl named Delphini together with Hermione. Seeing too many parallels to himself to be comfortable with simply abandoning the innocent little girl.
To prevent some kind of disaster Harry and Hermione left Magical Britain, going into seclusion in the Muggle World. Nothing tying them to the magical one in the least. Sirius, Remus, Kreacher and many more were dead because of the war, while others became estranged over the years. The only one they kept in sporadic contact with was Hagrid through Hedwig, Winky or Dobby.
Besides, Harry's journey was not over until he found a cure for Hermione. With his N.E.W.T scores being an outstanding on average he had many avenues open to him. In the end he chose to apprentice under Nicolas Flamel in Alchemy. The man was still alive, living with his wife in Devon and possessing enough elixir to complete Harry's education in that particular waning art; wanting to pass on as much of his knowledge as possible so that it may live on. Even if the secret of the Philosopher's Stone should die with him. Harry had proven himself over the years of their correspondence by letters and written tests. Not to mention his valour shown by Voldemort's defeat.
'Everything he has achieved, all while dealing with my problems as well.' Hermione thought guiltily, smiling back at him as he noticed and gave her a soft reassuring smile over his shoulder. Obviously feeling her guilt through their connection.
Hermione's new state of being had presented itself with unique challenges. With her becoming more greedy, gluttonous, prideful, lustful, envious, wrathful, and all in all more inhuman. Love had turned into an hungry obsession, while friendship became bitter jealousy. During that time she seemed to be an evil monster with only her memories, not because she was herself, but because whatever she became used it as a guide to shape itself.
The only thing preventing Hermione's complete and utter descent into vampirism was the Blood Oath binding her to Harry. It gave her a fleeting semblance of life, letting her feel his heartbeat as her own and gifting her with his emotions freely. A measure without which she would've long since degenerated into a state of apathy and dark, perverted desires. It was a leash to restrain her and simultaneously a tether to what remained of her humanity. The vampire part of her despised it furiously, while her remaining humanity cherished the bond. It made for a confusing state of being where Hermione sometimes hated that she loved Harry, and loved that she hated him.
Hermione herself even became an Unspeakable for the British Ministry. Mostly to keep an eye on things back there, but also to satisfy her own hunger for knowledge. It came as a favour from Shacklebolt, not that Hermione's credentials weren't sufficient on their own, but bigotry still held fast within the ministry. Her area of study being runes and work largely revolving around the Veil of Death. Thankfully, the secrecy involved in that job made sure only Kingsley knew who she was in truth. Hermione only ever arrived per Floo and never left the department itself.
Through the Resurrection Stone Herpo the Foul, the Founders, Merlin, Morgan le Fey, Ekrizdis and many more provided long forgotten knowledge used to find a cure for Hermione. After years of accumulating knowledge from Hogwarts, the Black Library, the Chamber of Secrets, and from the Flamels, a solution was finally in reach. Well, that, and a little bit of Liquid Luck also helped things along towards a working solution. Just a little more of a year after the peaceful deaths of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel.
As both emerged from the dense and overgrown forest they found themselves in a clearing with no perceptible edge. All around them, a verdant world awaited under the shade of a twilit sky. The looming shadow of an abandoned and decrepit henge of stones laid in the distance, shrouded by a thick, heavy mist that rendered their vision blurry after about twenty feet. This circle of standing stones held power. It gathered here from the Leylines, drawn into the menhirs from beyond the earth. Harry felt its passage by him like a wind. It pulled at the hairs on his body, even under his clothes.
"Let's prepare, then." he proposed to Hermione, who was already springing into motion. Both of them set out to check for any faults. Harry went over the transmutation array, while Hermione took care of the ritual circle.
Inside the circle of stones stood an iron framework depicting a stylized skeleton: four iron rods, fashioned to look like skeletal arms and legs supported an open platform within a ribcage. Three wrapped bundles lied within the upward curving ribs. Under the platform, firewood formed a precise cube with ample space for airflow. Magical symbols, carved into the stone floor and encircling the pyre, flared as flame licked the tinder under the massive bathtub-sized cauldron. Inside said cauldron sat a potion painstakingly prepared for two years through alchemy and ready for this very occasion. Ingredients included ash, tears, pellets and feathers from a phoenix, dragon blood and many more costly and rare ones coming from creatures. Those from plants included Pritcher's Porritch, Witch's Ganglion, Niffler's Fancy and even the mythological Thaumatagoria of legend, courtesy of the now deceased Flamels.
Everything was in order, as was the date. Today was the Autumn Equinox, symbolically signalling the start of new beginnings and fresh starts. A time of harvest, of death and rebirth. A gibbous moon hung in the firmament above, spending its humble light to illuminate the world below as dawn neared ever closer.
Finally it was time to make death and life kiss.
Next Hermione took a crystal phial from one of her pockets. She opened her mouth and pulled the Mandrake leaf out. It was thoroughly soaked by now, having stuck there for the entire month of her fast. She swiftly put it into the phial, adding a hair and a teaspoon of dew from a place untouched by sunlight for a week. As well as a chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth. Normally it'd become an Animagus Potion, but in this case it was just an additive for today's transmutation from vampire into human.
Without further delay she added it to the simmering potion, causing the blue liquid to change colour to a deep purple.
While Hermione did that Harry checked the temperature and fetched the next item; a litre of Unicorn blood coming from the three in their possession. Thankfully they didn't have to kill a Unicorn to take it, simply buying it from some unsavoury sources in Knockturn Alley. As such the curse it normally invoked wouldn't apply, only affecting the unfortunate idiot who killed the poor unicorn.
"Here," Harry handed her the goblet full of the shimmering silver liquid. "bottoms up."
Hermione grimaced at the thick argent substance, but a look at the sky told her they didn't have much time left. The veil of night protecting her slowly lifted, giving way to soft pinks and pale yellows that stained the ruffled sheet of clouds sweeping across the morning sky. The warm glow of the sun peeked warily over the horizon, as if to confirm the moon's slumber. Dim light and a gentle breeze illuminated the nearby surroundings, which had laid just beyond the edge of darkness until dawn.
The blood tasted ambrosial, the velvet mouthfeel passing over Hermione's tongue and down her throat with the ease of taking a breath. Of all things, the aroma of freshly cut grass and currants flooded her nose. An image of unicorns, grazing on a plain and vibrant in the rising sun, took over her mind. It was on the same level as Harry's blood in terms of taste, which was the highest compliment Hermione could give any vintage.
Then they waited anxiously for dawn to truly start, staring in trepidation at the light enveloping more and more of the forest as shadows began to lengthen. Soon the sun rose over the horizon, a golden light suffused the sea of clouds above them like divine favour poured from the heavens. The deep black of night caressed the breathtaking colours of dawn in the sky as the stars glow diminished slowly, their iridescent beauty dying in that celestial vista.
Hermione took it all in, relishing the view that had been denied to her without expensive precautions. Though, this time she'd greet it without any; the ritual needing her to be vulnerable and having fasted for a moon's turn. Seeing that it was time she stripped down with a sigh, folding her clothes into a neat pile and laying the pearl containing their Blood Oath on top.
She stood still, ready to have the unlife purged from herself with flame, symbolically and literally. The scents of iron and burnt meat was the fist sign of things to come. Small wisps of smoke lazily began to dance over her pallid skin, caressing it lazily. Followed by her skin sizzling and steaming as the heat began to eat through her body. Soon Hermione's surroundings were a whirlwind of burning smoke and ash, a firestorm unending fuelled by primal flame as her body ignited. The roar of the fire swallowing her screams of agony. For once Hermione was thankful that she didn't need to breathe.
Moving with the light, never once trying to hide in the shadows, Hermione struggled as she walked aflame towards the cauldron. Yet the unicorn blood kept her alive, preventing her from crumbling into a smouldering pile of embers too soon. Her body slowly became charred and blackened still, undead skin bubbling and sloughing off her body. She could practically feel the silvery blood inside her body burning up, and death rapidly approaching.
Then, time resumed, and she arrived at the same moment as the rays hit the cauldron. The liquid instantly changed colour to deepest black as soon as the light of dawn struck the surface. Not waiting a second more Hermione cast herself into the mixture, flames and all. The fluid swallowed her whole, not creating a single ripple and becoming white in colour.
As the process started it was difficult beyond measure for Hermione to follow Harry's advice for the entirety of the ritual. That she shouldn't look back on her life and reach out to hold and cling to it, nor to look ahead and embrace the Great Beyond. Both were especially difficult for a vampire. Instead, like he had done at his own death, she was to stay at the moment of transition; where she was both what she was and what she would become. To dwell on that moment, that endless instant when life ended and death began. By the end of it she wasn't sure if she succeeded or not.
Finally came Harry's part in the procedure. First he increased the temperature of the fire. Afterwards the wizard strode forth to stand before the cauldron and with a flick of the Elder Wand he levitated the first bundle out of the iron ribcage. The package slowly unravelled itself, revealing a pair of finger bones.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your daughter!" he intoned, letting the pale bones splash into the cauldron, causing it to steam harder and beginning to bubble slowly. The runes of the ritual circle flickered to life, glowing softly.
Next came the second bundle, the cloth stained red from the grisly but precious cargo it held. A slab of still fresh meat unveiled itself as Harry continued. "Flesh of the mother, forcibly taken, you will revive your daughter!" with a splash it was put into the mixture, causing it to boil violently and hiss spitefully.
Harry had acquired those two ingredients just last night by himself. Mercifully, Hermione's parents didn't remember the encounter or their daughter. Neither were either of them harmed more than they had to. 'Sadly I couldn't grow anything back without ruining the ritual.' Harry thought guiltily, but stamped that feeling down. 'If they'd loved Hermione they would've done it willingly.' even if Harry didn't know how it would've impacted the ritual. So maybe it was for the best in the end.
Lastly the wizard unveiled the final bundle, revealing the last Philosopher's Stone created by Nicholas Flamel. Drawing a line across his palm with a cutting curse from the Elder Wand, Harry drew blood from himself before gripping the crimson stone with it. "Blood of true love, willingly given, you will resurrect your love!" the blood that came into contact with the powerful artefact changed from crimson to shining gold before dropping into the potion. Followed immediately by the Philosopher's Stone itself. As a result the potion changed colour for the penultimate time, going quickly to a deep citrine.
With that accomplished Harry put the tip of his wand at the edge where the ritual and transmutation circle met, pouring every bit of his magic into it and drawing from the earth's Leylines as well. The intersecting and elliptical lines of magic flared up around their target – gold and silver – seemingly spinning around each other to create a static hum, and sparking like blades at a grindstone. Runes hovered in the air around him before disappearing with a shimmer, as if they were phantom lightning bugs.
Around him, the standing granite faces now winked with wisps of green magic, flickering like swarms of fireflies. Harry's messy hair stood on end and he felt the teeth hum in his mouth. A pressure built against his inner ear, as if he was plunging deeper and deeper into water down into an endless abyss. The sky above the menhirs lightened, with dappled rays of sunshine breaking through the dense canopy as dawn began in earnest. It felt as if soon nothing would exist except him and the henge of stones as golden motes of magic bobbed along the ground, which soon jumped into the broth and began turning its colour to molten gold.
Things seemed enchanted or pregnant in that moment with the sheer possibility of magic. A greenish glow highlighted the metal of the cauldron and other reflective surfaces, and eerie, ethereal singing could be heard from afar. Time condensed into the present moment; concerns about the past or future seemed less pressing, less real. His heart beat in synch with Hermione's, although the silence between beats were hints of eternity. Things moved in slow motion, but with sublime grace and beauty that nearly moved him to tears.
The alchemical ritual then reached its crescendo, causing the cauldron to be utterly consumed by blissful golden flames as Hermione's body formed itself anew. In a flash it was over, blinding Harry briefly and causing him to look at the ground.
When it was over he raised his head with a mixture of hope and dread in his heart. What he saw took his breath away.
There in the light of dawn stood a sublime being that shone with splendour. Her skin was the colour of alabaster, and yet radiated spellbinding vitality as if she was physical perfection personified. Every curve and transition of her buxom figure was ideal, each limb a testament to supernal design. She was just about 5'5 tall, but no longer a teenager. Instead, like the harvest to come, she was full-figured and ample. Be it her curvaceous hips, enticing bum or beckoning breasts. Though, that first impression belied the raw strength slumbering underneath her skin, shown by her pronounced and tightly coiled muscles all over her body. Apparently having kept a vampire's strength to some extent in her new body. In Harry's opinion it did not detract from her femininity in any way.
Her heart-shaped face was stunning, luminous, mysterious. While at the same time being inviting and framed by long hair of lazy curls and ringlets, which were tickling at the small of her back. The tresses were the colour of golden bronze, shimmering with the colours of the dawn when struck by light; gold, pink and blue sheens dancing subtly over it. Her eyes, unlike Harry expected, were not a warm chocolate brown. Instead both were a black so dark no pupil was discernable, easily able to show him his reflection as he looked into that hypnotizing abyss. Yet for Harry they showed a gentle fondness and deep love.
All of it was only enhanced by the sweet smile on her luscious and full lips.
However, upon closer inspection there were certain imperfections, despite Hermione apparently keeping the stunning physique of a vampire. Her smile revealed only sharp teeth, nothing like the needle-like ones of a vampire but surely unsettling for those unfamiliar. The nails on her hands and feet were still filed to a point, dark and sharp. Most alien was the fact that she had no navel to speak of, showcasing the fact of her outlandish birth to the world.
For everyone else everything about her would forever more exude a combination of strange beauty and terror in equal measure, but in Harry's eyes she couldn't be more resplendent.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, voice thick with emotion. Hoping with every fibre of his being that she was only changed in body, despite clearly feeling her elation and happiness through their bond.
Said reborn witch looked and touched her body up and down, making sure everything was in place, feeling for her own heartbeat and relishing the renewed warmth of her body. She took a deep breath, half-fearing that she had forgotten how. Followed by looking at the light of the sun, and stretching out her arms in greeting. The smile on her face only grew as she became giddy. "It worked!" she exclaimed ecstatically, laughing hysterically as joy overwhelmed her being. Then, without warning, she flung herself into his arms, blubbering into his chest. "Thank you!" repeating the words over and over like a prayer.
His arms instinctively went around her, keeping the witch close. "Anything for you." he murmured, kissing the crown of her head.
She separated a little, looking at him with a smouldering gaze that promised all kinds of things. Only for her stomach to rumble mightily. She blushed, hiding embarrassedly in the crook of his neck. Still licking at his pulse out of habit, saying. "How about that feast you promised me?"
"Of course." he replied in amusement, his hold on her tightening and his happiness overflowing.
Department of Mysteries, Chamber of Death, 2007.
The room was large, dimly lit and rectangular, and the centre of it was sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet below. Harry and Hermione were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre. There was a raised stone dais in the centre of the lowered floor, and upon this dais stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked, and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with an ephemeral curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.
"Are you sure this'll work?" came the voice of none other than Harry James Potter, eyeing the rippling curtain of wailing souls fearfully. Not fear for himself, of course, but for Delphini.
"We can still back out now." Hermione's muffled voice informed him primly, working to make sure the Veil of Death was ready and not somehow tampered with by any of her colleagues.
Harry held a sleeping Delphini close to his chest, despite knowing the girl wouldn't wake for anything due to a Dreamless Sleep Potion. "No! I doubt we will get another chance quite like this." Harry said before he admitted. "I'm just... worried, you know ." people were bound to notice what was currently happening, be it today or tomorrow. Besides, everything was prepared already. What with them having stored all of their material wealth, knowledge and more supplies inside an enchanted trunk, which was currently sitting in the mokeskin bag hanging around Harry's neck. To not arouse suspicion Harry wore his Invisibility Cloak and over Hermione's form was draped the uniform robes of the Unspeakables. With Harry even decked out in his Basilisk armour and carrying the Sword of Gryffindor at his side, just in case things went wrong.
Hermione knew exactly what he meant, completely aware that he didn't doubt her methods, hypothesis or capabilities. After all, it was entirely reasonable to be worried about stepping through the Veil of Death and expect to survive; much less doing so with a nine-year-old child like Delphini. She had considered the Veil to be unnatural at first sight, having needed some time to come to terms with it and explore its secrets slowly. Only truly learning to believe through Harry's help over the years, despite still favouring rational thought as opposed to instinct or impulse.
Besides, it had been a taxing few years for all of them. Harry's and Hermione's joy at the successful transmutation of Hermione's body from undead to alive was dampened by the increased annoyance the magical public made themselves. It started small, like such things always did, with some idiot harassing them. Then it expanded to the few times they visited Hagrid at Hogwarts or when they bought something in Diagon Alley, even receiving cursed mail when outside their wards. No longer were they ignored, but something had shifted public opinion firmly in the negative. Rumours planted seeds of mistrust that grew and grew until they were towering oaks, overshadowing all of their prior achievements.
It even spilled over into other countries too, their own fame now working against them. Only added to by the fact of Hermione's restoration to life viewed in a suspicious light. As such every accusation had been levelled against them, ranging from them practising the darkest of magic and sacrificing people to making deals with demons. While they hadn't expected anything different from the Daily Prophet, the other countries doing the same were a surprise, however. From Shack they were told that some governments were somehow aware of Harry's status as Master of the Deathly Hallows. Even Shacklebolt couldn't do much but try to slow the tide. Between that, Delphini still being seen as an abomination, and Hermione's resurrection, they were all but hunted.
Facts that put a damper on things due to them not really wanting to live as Muggles. Not that such guaranteed their safety anyway. Neither did they want to live hidden or in a constant state of paranoia.
During the first year of this new debacle it got so bad an absent-minded comment from Harry sparked an idea in Hermione. It was an hypothesis she formed while working on the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries. Namely that the Veil was more than just a shortcut to the afterlife, but a gate to someplace else when you knew how to activate it. More specifically the metaphorical bridge the three Peverell brothers had been trying to cross in the Tale of the Three Brothers. With the Resurrection Stone's help Hermione learned more than she could've hoped for. And all they needed was someone who had united all the Hallows and became the Master of Death. Normally an impossible venture, but as usual, for Harry the impossible was merely improbable.
"Okay, you need to... " Hermione began the explanation again before she was interrupted by Harry.
The wizard shrugged off his Invisibility Cloak, answering calmly as he handed Delphini over to her. "I know, Hermione." he smiled teasingly at her, hoping to ease her tension. "We've gone over it often enough."
Just as he said that the pair could hear footsteps approaching rapidly, followed by shouts of alarm.
"Hurry!" the beautiful reborn witch urged, holding the girl gently as she tried reciprocating his smile in kind. Briefly sending all kinds of reassuring emotions through the bond, but only managing to heighten her own nervousness. A feeling reminiscent of simpler times in Hogwarts.
With that done Harry swiftly began the procedure by throwing his Invisibility Cloak towards the rippling curtain of ghostly vapour. An imperceptible gust of wind picked it up and draped it over the arch. "Reveal the path!" he intoned, making the fluttering curtain flash a bright silver. The words did not echo in the cavernous room, but seemed pregnant with meaning. Harry's footsteps as he approached the arch were loud, as though his weight had suddenly increased to match a giant.
The interlopers grew closer, their discordant cacophony an affront to what was happening in this sanctum. Their eyes wide with fear and disbelief as they saw what was happening, trying futilely to prevent it.
Next Harry took the Resurrection Stone and set it into the indentation of the stone archway. Like it belonged there all along, it slid in like a key into a lock. "Grant us save passage!" Harry commanded and a moment later things took on a timeless quality. His words echoed this time, but they didn't fade entirely; instead remaining as a soft undertone. In that moment Harry appeared unassailable, as if he couldn't be attacked or affected by anything at all.
Whispers coming from the rippling artefact grew in intensity and volume, swearing oaths and delivering promises of safe travels. The stunned onlookers saw movement from the corners of their eyes, but this ceased the moment they tried to focus on it. Nothing moved quickly when directly watched. Their movements altogether were slow and dreamlike, and a disturbing calm surrounded everything around the Veil. The floor around the dais where they stood was then covered in tendrils of bruised purple shadow that reached up a few inches and angled toward Harry. The tendrils pulled colour from the stone walls, people and even from the light itself; so that everything but the Veil's shadowy light seemed pale, anaemic, clothed in grey.
The swirling portal of magenta energy pulsed in time to an unfathomable cosmic heartbeat, flashing through hues of pink, red, and purple. Fragments of worlds, dead and alive floated around inside the aperture, trapped by its intractable pull, and a creeping numbness filled everyone's body as the portal took on form. A black void as hollow as Voldemort's soul stared out at them from its centre. The darkness between the stars.
Finally, he put the Elder Wand on top of the Resurrection Stone, turning it like one might a key. "Open!" A second later an unnatural draft blew from the centre of the Veil, as if a door had been opened.
The Master of Death turned back towards the captivated audience. "I hope you're satisfied now." he told them coldly. In that moment Harry appeared impossibly regal and powerful, though not necessarily noble. The feeling was more intimidating than inspiring. Everything he was holding or wearing seemed like a treasure, and anyone of the interlopers who met his gaze felt compelled to look away. People and inanimate objects seemed to defer to him, even shadows stayed below his gaze.
"Let's go!" with that said Harry picked the Resurrection Stone back up and turned to enter the newly opened passage.
Hermione with Delphini in her arms went first, immediately followed by Harry. With that they embarked on their journey, unsure of what they might find. A queer lurch in Harry's gut made his head swim as the world around him spun away into darkness. He felt as though he was falling—endlessly falling—but he saw naught but dim flashes of colour and heard nothing at all, not even his own breath. Nevertheless, he became conscious of an impending end, an impenetrable barrier in the dark like falling upward into a ceiling of sky. Both instinctively braced for impact, and that's when they suddenly arrive somewhere else.
