I'm actually ahead of schedule for Book Six. So there won't be a hiatus after all. Unfortunately, Book Seven still eludes me.
After classes, Hermione met up with her friends to get dinner and study. Despite her weekend assistant librarian status, Quripuma was unable to book them a study room until the following week and the courtyards and plaza were all full of students who either didn't have to worry about the imminent E.D.A.M.s, or were pretending it wasn't already May and that they had seven short weeks remaining of school and four until the start of finals fortnight. So they had taken to studying in the dining hall or, if they were sick of cafeteria food, went to a restaurant and loiter at a table.
"I don't get it," said Alejandro as they left the restaurant. "If the teachers hate grading homework so much then why don't they assign less of it?"
"I know right?" Márcia groaned. "I get that they have a quota set by the school board, but there's no way that it's that much!"
Hermione had to agree. A few years back she would have thought that this was plenty and that she loved doing homework, but now she had a social life and suddenly it seemed entirely unfair that they should have so much work to do.
"I'll just feel better when I get an apprenticeship lined up," said Bernice. "I can deal with homework, but it doesn't do me any good if nobody looks twice at my resumé."
"You think you've got problems," said Quripuma, rolling her eyes.
"Some students seem to think that the books reshelf themselves," Cássia elaborated. "She has her work cut out for her during her assistant slots."
Quripuma sighed.
"Such is the life of a future librarian."
The wind picked up and a chill blew in from the mountains, which had gotten much closer over the holiday. Seemed rain was on the way.
"This is where we part," said Márcia as they approached the dorm buildings. "See you guys at the meeting tomorrow!"
Alejandro was in Hermione's building so he offered to walk back with her. Some students were getting bolder about their distaste for S.A.M.B., and while she didn't feel like she was in immediate danger, she was just less likely to be harassed or hexed when she was with someone.
"Have you ever listened to the student radio station?" he asked.
"Can't say I have," she said. "I prefer to control my own music, though I do enjoy radio dramas provided they're done well."
"I can understand that," he said. "A couple of us in S.A.M.B. are thinking about starting our own show. I bet that by the end of the year nearly everyone is going to have a Walkman or Boombox or portable radio, so it'd be a good opportunity to have a show where we can really… introduce ourselves to people. You know? Not just talk about our rights, but also share our cultures."
"That sounds really cool," said Hermione.
"You could probably be the host!" he said. "I bet you'd be good at it."
"Oh, no," she shook her head. "I actually have a terrible stutter."
He blinked. "You do? But…" he trailed off and looked embarrassed.
"I'm so articulate?" she finished.
He nodded.
"It was really bad when I was a kid," she explained. "Not as bad when I spoke Spanish, but even a couple letters were hard or I'd repeat things like a broken record. I took speech therapy and I have a million and one tricks. Fall onto the harder consonants, think your middle name before saying your first name, talk slowly, move your voice up and down almost like you're singing. Did you know there was this one famous singer who stuttered so badly except when he was singing that he just sang all the time."
"I did not," said Alejandro.
"Ignoring my impediment, I don't know where I'll be next year," she admitted. "I'm really loving all the friends I'm making here and there's so many interesting things to learn, but after the wyvern incident?" She made a face. "I think we'll be having a conversation about where to send me next. It might be Uluru, that's where my sister goes."
"I hear good things about Uluru."
Before they realized it, they had made it to her door.
"This is my stop," she said. "See you later."
"Yeah, see you." He turned on his heel and headed down to his room at the end of the hall.
She unlocked her door. Storm clouds had rolled in, turning the sunset into night. She couldn't see a damn thing. Wait… there was something. Someone. In her room.
"Are you here to attack me or did I just catch you in the middle of leaving a love letter on the bathroom mirror in lipstick?" she asked, preparing to run for Alejandro.
"Mirror, yes; Lipstick, no. I find blood is more personal."
She knew that voice.
Sighing with relief, she waved a hand and baubles of light drifted to the ceiling. Cedric stood in the middle of her room looking entirely unlike himself. His electric blue hair looked recently washed and cut by an amateur, he had multiple piercings, his clothes made him look like he was lost trying to find the nearest noise band show, and he was battered and bruised. Not as bad as when she talked to him over the mirror last, but still pretty bad.
"I take it your next move was to stand outside my window then?"
"Yeah, I was gonna Michael Myers it for a couple hours before breaking back in to watch you sleep. You know, Dracula style."
She laughed and closed her door behind herself.
"Glad to see she couldn't destroy your humor," she said. "Why are you here? How did you get here?"
"You don't know…"
"Know what? How could I know? If I knew, don't you think that would have been the first thing I mentioned?"
He reached into his backpack and took out a stack of newspapers and magazines. "You might want to read through these."
"I'm not gonna like what I find on those am I?"
He shook his head.
"Then before I go banana balls—" she set the stack on her desk and hugged him tightly— "I missed you so much, Cedric. I was, am, so worried about you." She cupped his cheeks and kissed him twice.
He pressed his forehead to hers and held her tight as if he were afraid she'd disappear, but she was here and he was here. If he was in some sort of trouble, she'd take care of him.
"Is Umbridge still at Hogwarts?" she asked, stroking his cheek with her thumb and kissing him again.
"No," he said, leaning into her touch. "She's been arrested, so has Fudge."
"Well that's wonderful!" she said and frowned. "But if she's gone then why are you here instead of finishing up your Level Threes? I mean N.E.W.T.s."
He tapped the papers on her desk, which held all the answers and sniffed the air. "Is that food you've got?"
"Yeah," she said. "Help yourself. It's just leftovers and some sweets."
He sat down on her couch and opened the take out bag while she sat in her office chair. She already didn't like what she saw on the covers of these magazines. Every single one announced Voldemort's return and in a little side bubble was Cedric's face. She picked a story and started reading.
Heroism or Treason?
On the evening of May the Third, it was revealed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. It is believed that he and many Death Eaters were attempting to infiltrate the Ministry in order to steal a prophecy. One person at the scene who is believed to be Cedric Diggory, a werewolf, recited the first portion of the prophecy and mentioned that it was about Harry Potter. Harry Potter himself has been redeemed in the eyes of society as the Chosen One, but has Cedric Diggory?
When Aurors came into the Ministry after giving chase to Albus Dumbledore, they were shocked to find You-Know-Who standing in the middle of the atrium. High above him, Cedric Diggory taunted him and seemed elated that both Aurors and reporters had caught the wizard after months of ignoring his return. That might not seem so terrible, but that is not the end of it. Along with vandalism that is still unable to be properly cleaned up or reverted, Mr. Diggory has stolen not just a prophecy, but an ancient artifact that was being studied within the Department of Mysteries along with journals detailing research. It is also believed he killed eight people who were working within the department that evening. Half the bodies were identified as the Death Eaters that had escaped Azkaban earlier this year, but the others were unconfirmed.
Some people say that Mr. Diggory's actions were heroic. If he hadn't been there, then You-Know-Who might have retrieved the prophecy that would tell him how he could be defeated by none other than Harry Potter and would have continued to remain in hiding, sneaking out only to kill. Others say that Diggory is a menace to society and was probably lying in wait to turn unsuspecting faculty at the Ministry into werewolves when the attack by You-Know-Who happened. It is unknown how, exactly, he had been able to remain in human form during the full moon, but as it stands his capture order has not been overturned. Still further, there are some who don't believe it was Cedric Diggory in the first place. Auror Nymphadora Tonks found a flask filled with polyjuice potion that contained a hair belonging to the werewolf. She also interviewed Mr. Amos Diggory who was one of the few faculty members remaining at the Ministry that evening. He was found knocked out in his office, and when questioned, he said, "Whatever that thing was, it was not Cedric. It did not speak with his voice and the look in its eye was inhuman. Despite our estrangement, I firmly believe he would not kill anyone outside of wolf form."
"Kindest thing he's ever said about me," said Cedric, watching her intently as she read. He must have been starving, there was hardly anything left in the styrofoam container. She gave him permission to finish it and her cake so he did.
She skimmed through a few other articles. Some mostly focused on Voldemort and how Harry was quite possibly the Chosen One and others focused more on Cedric and the chaos he supposedly caused. She leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling as she processed the information she just read.
"Okay," she said. "How much of this is true?"
"You already know I didn't kill Bailey Todd," said Cedric. "That much has been proven thanks to Viktor. I recorded Umbridge confessing that his death was a suicide and she was twisting it into a murder so she could get rid of me."
"Oh, Cedric…"
"But I did kill those Death Eaters," he said. "All of them were Death Eaters, they don't give those fancy masks to imperiused pawns. They don't get angry when imperiused pawns are killed. I bet someone is hiding the fact that they've got Dark Marks. Or maybe Dark Marks and masks disappear when you die. Can't arrest a dead man, can you?"
"Well, that's alright then," said Hermione. "What about the vandalism?"
"Oh, yes, that I did do and would definitely do it again if given the opportunity." He cracked a grin and rubbed the back of his head. "I turned that stupid statue in the atrium into Jaws."
"The offensive one?"
"Yeah."
She nodded. "Not so bad. What about the theft?"
"That is also true. I did steal the prophecy, but only because Dumbledore asked me to."
"Dumbledore asked you?"
"Yes. He asked me, Fred, and George to retrieve the prophecy for him because he believed our good friend Morty was trying to steal it. He was right."
"Why didn't he get it himself?"
"Oh, you know, he likes to collect grunts. People who admire him or think they owe him something. He mostly targets marginalized people. Professor Lupin for one, Hagrid for another. I think he regrets asking me for help especially considering what he lost after he broke his promise."
"Is he evil?" asked Hermione. "Should I be worried?"
"He truly believes he's good," said Cedric. "He's misguided and arrogant, though he claims he isn't and is quite good at making you think he's humble or remorseful. He's even got himself fooled."
"That's more dangerous." She tapped her chin. "At least I convinced him to hold off on hunting for more horcruxes until we find out more."
"Yeah, he got into a huge fight with our good friend Morty," said Cedric, not asking what a horcrux was. "He seemed incredibly surprised about that, as he was only leading the Aurors back to the Ministry to show them the vandalism and theft. Guess a lot didn't go for him as expected."
"Guess not." She wiggled her foot. "The journals?"
"It was just one, it was a copy, and I know the person who originally created the journal has the original in his house. I thought you'd find the research interesting and, well, in for a penny, in for a pound." He handed her the journal, which she set aside without looking at.
"And the artifact?"
"It was never theirs to begin with," he said. "A lot of those artifacts don't belong to them. This one in particular belonged to you."
"Me?"
"Well, your family," he amended. "I believe it's a zemi, specifically your ancestor, Atabei. The journal said they "recovered" it from a Larimar mine—just before the rebellions—belonging to the oldest family in Hispaniola. I took it to mean it belonged to your family."
"You'd be right," she said softly. "Too many of our treasured possessions were taken or destroyed by colonizing wizards."
"I already made sure she got back home," he said. "Meaning I set the crate inside the house with a note, stole some stuff, and left before they could see me. Nothing major, just food and stuff that can easily be replaced."
"It's not stealing if it's your home. They would have hidden you."
"I know, but I can't drag them into my mess," he said. "Once the dust settles, I don't doubt there will be people looking for me. After all, as far as anyone knows, I still have the prophecy."
He tapped the compartment in his arm and withdrew a crystal ball. It was foggy, signaling that there was a prophecy within it. Hermione had her mind changed about prophecies. That, sometimes, a person born with the gift could channel the numerous entities that bestowed prophecy. She still thought things like palm-reading and tea leaves were rubbish, but she could give on some exceptions. After all, if these documented official prophecies didn't come true then why bother to keep them?
"It does have to do with Harry," Cedric continued. "Part of my conditions with Dumbledore was that he tells Harry the entire prophecy."
Hermione took the crystal ball and peered into the fog. Frowning, she shook it.
"It's not a magic 8-ball," he said, looking amused. "You either have to use a special solution in a special bowl in order for it to speak the prophecy or it has to be held by someone it's about."
"So you want me to pass this onto Harry?"
He nodded.
"What does it say?"
Cedric cleared his throat and recited:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies … And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… And it will take the soul inside him to ensure that it is so."
"Not very clear is it?" she said. "I mean… for all we know the power Morty knows not is a big glock."
"Dumbledore is convinced the power is love."
"Hm… I believe in love, but you don't take down fascists with love. That's the problem with pacifists. They think anything can be solved with words, but what they don't seem to realize is that people like Death Eaters only have to stop spreading their bigotry whereas the only solution the bigots see would be for people like us to simply stop existing."
"Which is why I didn't hesitate when it came between me and them," he said.
She nodded. "And we're definitely certain it's about Harry? Nobody else is possible?"
"Yeah, his scar was what marked him as Morty's equal."
"Wouldn't it be nice if prophecies were just… instructions?"
Cedric shrugged and looked down at the empty go-box in his lap before wrapping it in the bag and tossing it on top of the already overflowing rubbish bin.
"Harry is going to die, isn't he?"
Hermione pondered this and spun around in her office chair a couple times, then stood up and crammed herself next to Cedric, draping her legs over his lap and resting her head in the crook of his neck. She'd spent five months apart from him, she wasn't going to waste another second. She ran the pads of her fingers over the tattoos on his forearm. The ink was raised and the skin was tender.
"It just said the soul inside him would have to be sacrificed," she murmured thoughtfully. "Prophecies are trick questions. Like… I have two coins that make fifteen pence and one of them is not a 10p what are they?"
"A ten pence and a five pence," he replied.
"Exactly."
He studied her for a long moment and narrowed his eyes. "You know something. What do you know?"
"It has to do with why I did that thing with Hogwarts. It'd be easier just to project it all to you," she said. "Some of it is disturbing and you just ate, are you up for it?"
"Yes."
"Okay." She turned to look him in the eye and pushed everything she learned about horcruxes and what she did to destroy the one she found. When she was pulled back to reality, she saw him horror-struck and disgusted.
"Oh, my God," he whispered. "And a piece of that is just sitting inside Harry right now? Affecting those around him?"
"Yes. So, I think the key to defeating Morty is not removing Harry's soul, but Morty's soul from Harry. Once all the pieces are destroyed, then our good friend Morty will be rendered mortal and then—" she sliced her hand across her throat.
"Brilliant," he said.
Hermione gazed at him and leaned in to kiss him, but was interrupted by a rapid knock at her door.
"They've come for me," he whispered.
She jumped to her feet and pulled him to her.
"Quick darling, back in the closet," she said.
He snorted and climbed into her trunk to hide. She slid the closet door partially shut. Threw a sweater on top of her trunk, then answered the door to see Alejandro.
"Oh, hey mate," she said. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, fine, Nia," he said. "Um, I was thinking, there's not much on the radio and I was gonna go down to the rec room and play some darts. Want to come too?"
"I don't think it'd be a fair fight," she said and tapped her temple. "No depth perception and all."
"Well, I'll cover one of my eyes, too," he said. "Make it fair."
"She's busy," said Cedric, leaning over her shoulder. She didn't even hear him move.
Alejandro blinked and looked at her.
"I thought—"
"No, no, this is Cedric," she said. "He dropped in for a visit."
"Oh!" He nodded. "Okay."
"Excuse me!"
Cedric quickly ducked back into the room. Hermione and Alejandro looked over to see two wixen in Auror robes approach them.
"I'm Santiago and this is Cardoso," said the witch. "Have you seen this wizard? He is wanted for murder, vandalism, inciting chaos, and theft. We received a tip that he was heading for Castelobruxo to meet his girlfriend, a Miss Sanchez?"
"I am a Miss Sanchez," said Hermione, looking down at the wanted poster. They used his annual photo. He looked so cute.
"If you can tell us anything that would be helpful."
"You deserve to know the truth," said Alejandro, making Hermione's blood go cold. "And the truth is… I have no idea who that is, I've never seen him before in my life."
Santiago and Cardoso looked disappointed.
"Diggory is a werewolf and is considered extremely dangerous," said Cardoso. "He attacked the British Ministry on the evening of May the Third."
Hermione furrowed her brow. "That was a full moon. You're telling me a werewolf in actual wolf form managed to accomplish a heist, vandalism, murder, and chaos incitation?"
Santiago blinked and looked at the information she'd been given.
"Something doesn't add up here," she murmured.
"Don't you think it's possible that someone polyjuiced as him thinking he'd be the perfect scapegoat?" she continued. "People already hate werewolves and will believe anything."
"She's got a point," said Cardoso. "We'll check back in with our Department Head. Thank you for your time, Miss Sanchez."
"Oh, anytime."
As they left, Hermione pulled Alejandro into her room and shut the door.
"Please, don't say anything!" she pleaded. "Cedric is innocent."
Cedric made a face. "Eh…"
"Shh!"
"Hey, it's okay," said Alejandro, holding up his hands. "I trust your judgement, Nia. Besides, you're right. Something does sound off about all this. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well, people will be talking about it tomorrow," she said. "If you can push the werewolf/full moon thing, that would be great." She brought him a couple of the news stories. "Maybe tell the others what's going on. Not that he's here, that stays between us, but that this is all a lie."
"It's not all a lie, Hermione," said Cedric.
"Irrelevant. Those people were Death Eaters, the prophecy was going to get stolen anyway, and vandalism is a misdemeanor punishable with only a fine. Also, it was revealed that Umbridge was framing you for Bailey so logic stands that someone out there thinks you're the perfect scapegoat and wanted to frame you for this as well."
"That sounds reasonable," said Alejandro. "Look, sorry to get between you, I'll just go back to my dorm."
"You're a good friend," said Hermione.
He smiled and left. Hermione shut the door and turned back to Cedric.
"Does Alejandro come by often?" he asked.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"
"Yes," he said frankly and instantly looked like he wished he hadn't said anything.
"Oh…" Hermione slipped her arms around his neck and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Well, listen, you can camp out here for the night and then slip out with the breakfast crowd. There's thousands of people here, nobody will notice one more and then you can go to D.R. and—"
"Hermione… I can't go to D.R."
"Why not? It'll be okay." She brushed his fringe back and it stubbornly flipped forward again. "Look, I know it won't be fun having to hide out until I can prove your innocence—"
"But I'm not innocent."
"Irrelevant," she dismissed. "But at least I'll know you'll be safe."
"Hermione… I already tried going to D.R. There were Death Eaters waiting there. I think they might've recognized me. Or… they at least think I was some guy who'd been imperiused to deliver that package. I was lucky that they couldn't cross the wards. If I hang out around your family they will catch on and I refuse to put you or anyone else in danger."
"Then we'll stomp them!"
"Yes, but at what cost?" he argued. "What if, when they can't get to me, they retaliate by hurting your parents? Or your siblings? I know you're going to bring your own trouble Hermione, but at least that would be on you!"
She flinched and recoiled.
"Wow! Is that how you feel?"
"Face it, you're two vigilante acts away from being in the same boat as me." He huffed. "It was a mistake to come here, but I wanted to tell you to your face and then when I saw you…" he sighed, wearily. "I got swept up, like I always do. I didn't realize how much I wanted you until I had you in my arms."
"Tell me what?" she asked, mind racing with possible responses.
"I'm going on the run," he said. "Like, right now. Sirius gave me his motorcycle. I'm going to create sightings of myself, draw the Death Eaters and Ministries after me so they won't look your way. I mean… what would happen if your family was found harboring a fugitive, huh?"
Hermione twisted his mother's ring around her finger. This had to be a bad dream or a sick joke. She'd wake up at her desk, drooling over her textbook, or some reality star was going to burst in with a camera to tell her it was all a prank.
"I'd wait for you," she said weakly.
"And what if something happened?" he said. "What if I died and you never knew?"
"I would know," she said and reached for him again. "Even before we loved each other like this, I loved you enough to know if something happened to you."
He held her at arm's length, his prosthetic thumb stroking her shoulder, betraying his true wants.
"I think it'd be cruel to ask you to wait for me," he said. "Never knowing if I could come home. It might hurt, but I know the kindest thing would be to end things here and now."
"That's how you feel?"
"Yes."
"Alright." She let go of him, flipped open her trunk, and started tossing everything within sight inside.
"What are you doing?"
"Since you can't stay, I'll just have to go with you," she said decisively. "I'll have to send letters with Stephen and explain to him that he can't return to me and I'll give Crookshanks to my sister. She spoils him rotten."
"You're not coming with me!" Cedric protested. "I'm leaving now."
"We'd have a better chance of surviving together," she insisted. "Just… wait for me. I'm coming with you."
She faced him once more and took his hands. He was staring at his shoes, so she tipped his chin up and looked him in the eye.
"I love you, so much," she said. "You're my best friend and I am not abandoning you, okay? We'll just have to take care of each other."
He stared at her dumbfounded, then pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her more intensely and passionately than he ever had before. Her knees buckled and had he not been holding her so tightly, she would have collapsed. Instead, she held him, too, and hoped he could feel how much she loved and cared about him. She knew she could argue him into seeing her way. Everything was going to be just fine. Yes, she'd miss her family and friends, but he was worth it. She'd do anything for him and knew he would do the same if their roles were reversed.
The few moments seemed to stretch for an eternity, yet too soon he broke away and pressed his forehead to hers. She was too breathless to speak, but she pushed every good thought she had towards him. Every time she felt love and happiness, especially the ones involving him.
She chanced another kiss and hugged him, pressing her cheek against the crook of his neck. Lightning flashed through the crack of her curtains and was instantly followed by the rumble of thunder. Cedric's chest jerked and at first she thought he was startled, but then it jerked and shuddered again, accompanied by a sniffle. He was crying.
"Hey," she said, stroking the nape of his neck. "Everything will be okay, as long as we are together."
She took a small step back so she could look at him again. She swiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered and pressed his thumb to her forehead.
She fell into darkness and was caught by dreams.
~o0o~
Hermione woke up in her bed to a raging storm. Blinking blearily, she tried to focus in on her alarm clock. It wasn't even dawn yet. That dream she had… how awful. She had to tell Cedric about it. Beg him to reassure her that what she dreamed wouldn't happen.
Feeling hot, cold, and nauseated at the same time, she stumbled down her ladder and teetered towards the toilet. After her rendition of the Exorcist, she brushed her teeth and tried to focus on herself in the mirror. Something wasn't right. Her rings… She was only wearing two on her right hand.
No… no, no, no.
Throwing her toothbrush down, she waved her hand and made orbs of light a sickly shade of purple, like cough medicine, rather than the usual white or gold. It still did the trick as she searched through her things for her IMN. It wasn't in either of her bags, nor her trunk, which was still partially packed, and it wasn't on the floor. She shuffled her papers around on her desk searching for it and knocked her snow globe onto her couch. She picked it up and realized it wasn't the snow globe. This was slightly smaller and wasn't on a stand. Urging her lights to a harsh white, she peered down at the thing and nearly dropped it when she saw it was a crystal ball.
A soft whimper escaped her lips and turned into a wail.
Cedric was gone… he took the IMN, the mirror, and his mother's ring. Hermione was sure that if she got an MRI at that moment, the doctors would have found her heart missing as well.