Hermione paced anxiously outside the Burrow waiting for someone, anyone to give her answers. The moment Remus and Tonks had sent her back with Bill Weasley and ordered her to remain at the Burrow, she'd known something was horribly wrong.
When Bill had tried to question her, she'd snapped at him, saying it was none of his business. She wasn't stupid; she could tell by his concerned look he knew something. It had taken every ounce of patience to keep her questions inside and not demand answers immediately, especially since Harry wasn't with them.
Harry... she worried about him. A wave of guilt hit her like a brick to the gut; she'd promised him she'd always be there. The fact that she wasn't there to comfort him now only increased her anxiety and made the churning in her stomach worse.
Her head whipped around, looking for any sign of movement when the door suddenly opened and Molly stepped through with a false smile on her face. The moment she saw the redhead's expression however, Hermione's eyes narrowed. Hermione marched over and got right to the point, "What's going on? Is Harry alright? Tell me now." She demanded angrily, glaring up at the older woman who had been so nice to her since they'd first met.
Molly was about to respond when Tonks burst out of the Burrow behind the older Weasley woman alongside Bill and a concerned Arthur Weasley.
Tonks strode past the crowd of Weasleys, taking a hold of Hermione's elbow and giving the young brunette a soft smile, "You and I are going to go inside for a little bit. Molly and Bill will look after your stuff. The Order's got it handled. Everything is under control." She spoke calmly, yet Hermione could hear the strain in her tone and see it in her eyes.
Hermione pulled her arm out of the older girl's grasp, "No, not until someone tells me what the hell is going on," Hermione shouted, feeling the panic set in. She wasn't some little kid who couldn't understand, she deserved answers, "Something has obviously happened, or else I wouldn't be here," she stated matter-of-factly with a scowl. "Why was Harry alone? Where is he? I want to know, right now!" She yelled angrily, crossing her arms over her chest defensively as she glared up at Molly and the rest of the Weasleys.
Ron took that moment to make his way past everyone, yawning, and looking all the world like he had just woken up.
"Hermione," he said groggily, running a hand through his mop of hair, "What're you yelling for? Bloody hell, it's like three in the morning or some stupid hour like that. Mum, I'm going back to bed." The redhead continued walking by her without even bothering to glance in her direction as he trudged through the back door of the Burrow and went back inside.
Molly's smile turned strained. "Harry has been unwell, dear. Why don't you and Tonks go in, we'll explain everything to you after everyone gets some more sleep." Molly's voice was full of motherly affection as she put an arm around her shoulder, trying to calm Hermione's obvious agitation.
Guilt washed over Hermione as she noted the tired looks in Bill, Arthur, and Molly's eyes. Tonks however was more than willing to step up, taking hold of her elbow again, and together with Molly pulling Hermione toward the Burrow without another word, not giving her any time to say or ask anything else.
As soon as they entered, Hermione couldn't help but look around in curiosity. Everything looked so homey, warm, and comfortable; nothing at all like Harry's dark and dreary home. This house had always felt like it was a home. She had been there many times over the years of course, yet it was nothing like the suffocating, depressing atmosphere of 12 Grimmauld Place. A part of her hated Harry's godfather for naming him in his will and for forcing him to be responsible for a place he obviously did not want to live in. Hermione had always hated staying in that cursed house, the weight of its gloom a burden even when occupied by the entire, joyful Weasley family, she could not fathom how lonely it must feel being its sole occupant.
Tonks gave Hermione's arm another squeeze and motioned for her to sit at a worn table near a window looking out into the dark morning. The pink haired girl slumped in the seat across from her, her body language screaming exhaustion, her face pinched and tight with tension, a complete change from how Hermione was used to seeing the Auror. Tonks had always been a very cheerful and open individual. It was jarring to see the once energetic and lively girl so stressed and weary, the shadows under her eyes, and her slouched shoulders making her seem older than she was.
Hermione stared at the auror, wondering when she was going to start talking. Instead she heard the familiar wooshing sound erupt from the fireplace. It was like a siren call for Hermione, and she stood, unable to help herself from hoping Harry had gotten better and arrived there through the floo network.
When the green flames turned blue however it was not Harry Potter, but Albus Dumbledore that appeared.
Hermione's nostrils flared in anger at the sight of him. Her fingers itched with the need to hex the elderly man before her. Her whole body tensed as she began shaking.
She wanted to scream, wanted to shout.
It was his fault. It was his fault that Harry had gotten ill. The old fool. He'd sent him into danger. He'd left him in a haunted, dangerous, filthy place. Alone. He'd sent a grieving 16 year old to live in a house full of dark memories and ghosts. Harry wasn't even out of school. How could Dumbledore expect a teenager to run a household? The wizarding world expected too much of him. She wished they all would leave him alone.
Tonks, who seemed to have known she'd be upset by the appearance of the ancient wizard, came to Hermione's side, whispering words of comfort to her, "Calm down, Hermione, just calm down and hear what Albus has to say. You aren't going to be of any help if you get worked up," the older witch tried to soothe her as best she could, but her words had little effect.
It took everything in her to stand still as she watched Dumbledore brush himself off and greet the room before turning to the two witches, "Miss Granger, you're looking well," he said by way of greeting as he strode toward the two, stopping only to pull out a chair at the table to sit down. He sighed as he sank down into it, rubbing his weary, tired looking eyes for a moment before looking back up at them. He motioned for the two witches to have a seat, "You must be worried sick."
Hermione stared at the wizard as if he'd grown a second head, "Of course I am! How is Harry, why isn't he here? Why did you leave him by himself at Grimmauld Place? Is he there by himself right now? ANSWER ME!" Hermione ranted, unable to contain her emotions, her anger flaring up as the seconds passed, making it difficult for her to even look at Dumbledore, the urge to hit him nearly overcoming her.
The wizard didn't bother answering her questions; he only sat back and listened calmly to her tirade as he waited patiently for her to calm herself. When Hermione was done he cleared his throat before speaking.
"I understand that you're very concerned for your friend. I too am concerned for Harry as well as for everyone who lives within this lovely home," Albus began as he turned his gaze to Molly Weasley, who was busy in the kitchen, fixing everyone tea and a late supper, "Thank you, Molly. Please do sit down."
The witch didn't argue, she sat down in one of the chairs across from him with a small smile on her lips as she took the time to listen.
"Now then, to answer your questions Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued, "Harry is being tended to at the moment, I promise you he is being very well cared for. He has suffered a bit of a set back, that's all."
"A SET BACK," Hermione shouted, her whole body tensed as her rage built, "What happened to him, is it something serious?" She asked, the worry evident on her face as she wrung her hands in worry, unable to help but let her fears show on her face.
"A set back is all. Nothing more," the ancient wizard continued calmly, "It appears that he is a bit...stressed. His mind needs a bit of time to recover from his experiences in the Department of Mysteries."
"You're keeping him locked in that dreadful place still, aren't you? He isn't some...thing for you to do what you want with," Hermione spat as she felt her blood boil. "Take me to him, I want to see him!" She demanded, not bothering to hold back the venom in her tone as she stood to glare at him,
"Bloody, sodding, hell," Ron's groggy voice whined from the stairway, "H'mione, will you just shut up! It's like 5 in the sodding morning for crying out loud!" The young boy yelled in aggravation as he glared at Hermione and Dumbledore from where he stood at the foot of the staircase, a large, white pillow in his grasp as he stood there wearing a pair of bright, orange shorts, and nothing else.
The entire room seemed to turn their eyes on the half naked boy. Hermione, for her part, didn't bother to give him more than a cursory glance, she was more interested in hearing the news on her best friend's wellbeing.
Dumbledore could sense the anger and hatred radiating from the young, fiery Gryffindor witch. It was apparent that the girl held no love for him in her heart at that very moment. He sighed heavily as he gazed up at her. "My dear, you must understand. Harry's health is what's most important to me right now and I am doing everything in my power to ensure that he receives the best possible treatment that magic can provide for him."
"It isn't right for him to be in that place by himself," she countered, her face stern as she met his gaze head on, "If he has to stay at Grimmauld Place then fine, but he needs a companion with him. At least he could stay with the Weasleys where he has some friends around to make him feel comfortable."
Dumbledore contemplated her words, nodding sagely as he continued, "You have a very valid point, Miss Granger, I agree with you there, I will bring Harry here myself soon enough. But there are matters regarding Harry that I must attend to first before that can happen."
"Matters?" Hermione asked, "What do you mean 'matters?' What are these things that are more important to you than his well being? If you're hiding something from me about him, then just say so, because I've been told lies and secrets too often and I am tired of it!" Hermione continued, not bothering to keep the bite from her tone as she crossed her arms in front of her chest to glare at Dumbledore.
The old wizard breathed in a tremendous but appreciative sigh as he looked fondly upon the fiery, young witch. He nodded in approval to her before making an effort to stand to his feet. "We will need a more private setting for this conversation." He motioned with a wave of his hand for Hermione to follow him up the staircase toward Arthur Weasley's vacant office where he would be sure no one would disturb them. Hermione followed sternly after the Headmaster as they stepped inside.
Dumbledore held his wand in the air before muttering, "Muffliato." He watched as Hermione stared in confusion at what he just did before turning back to him. The ancient wizard pointed toward the comfortable looking chairs and the small table with a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice and some biscuits that he had somehow conjured without her noticing, "Please have a seat Miss Granger," He motioned to the chair while he went to sit himself, pouring both of them a glass of juice.
"Before we commence, I must broach a topic that you may consider, well... quite personal. If you would permit me to do so?"
The bushy haired brunette paused, setting her drink down in her lap, and glanced nervously around the room, "I guess so, sure." She felt her cheeks flush as she turned her head to face him, wondering what this was all about, "What is it?"
"I've noticed that you and Harry have shared a considerable amount of time together, more so than with anyone else... Forgive me, Hermione, but I must inquire whether you two have ever..." he gestured subtly, forming an X with his two fingers.
The teen girl blushed bright red at that, and she suddenly wished she was anywhere else at that moment.
She swallowed hard and stared at the floor in silence for a moment before clearing her throat. "I mean... Harry and I...n-no sir, no. We aren't like that at all."
The wizard nodded, taking a small sip of juice from his cup. He hummed and sat back in his chair as if pondering this information, his face taking on an odd expression for a moment as he contemplated what she had just said.
"Curious..." He muttered to himself before looking up to face her, his gaze unreadable. "Very well then... Now, Miss Granger, do you recall Harry speaking to you about... voices he may or may not have heard?"
Hermione looked at Dumbledore in shock. Her mouth hung open and she gasped for air before her brain started working again. She closed her mouth and swallowed, nodding at him slowly before speaking, "Y-yes."
"Now I must warn you, Miss Granger, what I'm about to tell you may change the way you view Harry and it may not be what you expect. He has endured things that most would be unable to bear in their lifetime, which I'm sure you are very well aware of. And even with everything he's been through, he still persevered." He looked directly into Hermione's eyes and sighed once more, "You see, I was not aware know all the details myself until he was able to give me a more detailed description of the horrors he was subjected to. And the more I've been able to discover the more it's led to some questions."
"What do you mean?" She asked, a feeling of unease rising inside of her, "I want to see Harry," she told him.
The old wizard held out his hand as he attempted to pacify the young witch. "In due time, Miss Granger," he reassured her as he watched the fire that seemed to emanate from her very eyes. "Would you care to elaborate more regarding these voices he's been experiencing?" He asked, his brows knitting together as he waited for the girl's answer.
"Harry said something about how there were... shadows, and voices. That they whisper things to him. Sometimes he thinks it's someone talking to him, but then he can't tell..." her voice faltered as her eyes dropped to her lap where she clenched her hands, "I asked him who these shadows were and he said he didn't know, he couldn't tell me."
Dumbledore sat there silently listening as Hermione spoke. When she was finished he leaned forward, resting his hands on his lap as he looked to her, "I will admit that Harry was very reluctant to elaborate to me a broad image of what exactly occurred. But you see, I believe there is a more... practical reason that Harry may have been unwilling to provide more information."
Hermione frowned in confusion before she questioned Dumbledore, "What do you mean, practical?"
Dumbledore paused and rubbed at his weary, old face before answering the young witch, "The reason why I cannot allow you to see him at this time is because those voices, Miss Granger, plotted to have Harry... harm you."
"That's ridiculous, Harry would never hurt me."
"Not of his own free will, no. But he's ill and his mind is unstable. Harry has suffered much more than we know. He was forced to relive the worst night of his life over and over. Rest assured, I have assigned the greatest Occulmens of our time to help cure Harry of the damage he endured and we will ensure his safety while we're at it."
"You mean Snape, don't you," Hermione stated bluntly, not bothering to disguise the contempt in her voice for the greasy, bat faced, slimy toad of a wizard.
"Miss Granger, I assure you I have done what is best for Harry. I would trust Severus Snape with my own life, and more importantly, with yours. He has devoted a good portion of his life to protecting Harry and those close to him."
Hermione said nothing in response.
She wanted to yell, scream. How dare that man talk about Snape like he was some hero. Snape was the greasy, slimy bastard that made Harry's life miserable for 6 long years at Hogwarts. She hated the man for his constant insults to her best friend and for the way he had made her feel unworthy because she had not come from a Pure-Blooded wizarding family. But Hermione knew that there was something else at play.
"I trust you Miss Granger. I know you have nothing but good intentions for Harry. If it makes you feel any better, Harry will not be alone in that house for long."
"Really?" Her head snapped up to meet Dumbledore's blue gaze as hope flared within her heart, "Who are you going to bring over for Harry? Does he know? Will I get to see him soon? Why can't you bring him here?" The young witch's mind was spinning as she fired off the questions in rapid succession without giving the ancient wizard any chance to respond.
Dumbledore held out his hand once more and chuckled warmly at her, "Now Miss Granger, give me a moment to answer, please."
The young witch nodded silently.
Dumbledore smiled before he answered the girl's question. "Once I have concluded with Professor Snape my suspicions about what precisely is plaguing Harry, you can indeed expect him to be arriving here very shortly after, hopefully before the school term starts again."
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I hope to see him then, I... I miss him," Hermione whispered to him as she averted her gaze once more. She suddenly felt guilty for acting the way she had before, but the young witch also couldn't help the small twinge of excitement at the prospect of being able to see her friend again, soon.
Dumbledore placed a reassuring hand upon the young witch's shoulder as he stood from his chair and faced the doorway to his office, "You needn't worry Hermione. Harry will be back in no time. I trust you to keep this a secret, at least for the time being."
Hermione stood as well and smiled brightly up at him. "Thank you, Headmaster."
"Of course," He patted her back before letting go of her and walking past, "And now I must be on my way," Dumbledore continued as he paused and looked back to Hermione, "I must say, Harry is very lucky to have a friend like you, Miss Granger. It seems he has more people willing to look after him than he realizes."
Hermione nodded silently in response, unsure of what else she should say.
"Do try and get some sleep, you've had quite an exhausting day. And it appears we have an exciting day ahead of us tomorrow." He finished with a gentle smile as he stepped through the doorway.
The bushy haired, young witch looked after Dumbledore as he descended the stairs, leaving the Weasleys' living room completely. She took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. She knew this would be the first of many more nights spent thinking about everything she had heard today, wondering if any of this would change the way Harry acted when she saw him again... or if there were more things hidden deep inside the boy she cared so dearly for.