Note: (Title: Inside - Chris Avantgarde)
June 10th, 2006
The Palace
(…)
Hermione is shaking a bit, her grip firm on the book. Harry has his eyes wide, as if he can't believe that this was here all this time and he never found it.
She looks around the place, there are students scattered on a few tables and they're all observing them, curious to which book is this one she's holding.
Harry comes out of his utter shock and takes her other hand, guiding her out of there. Hermione keeps holding the book and she doesn't say a word while they walk back to their room.
Petunia said the book was all blank pages but she doesn't think that's the case. She's almost sure that a blood spell can show its secrets. Almost sure that a Potter can certainly do it. Lily left this book to Harry. Only for his eyes. The only surviving Potter. Their Heir.
The moment they cross the door, Harry closes it. She numbly walks to their bed, sitting. Crookshanks is sleeping. Hermione is aware that not even ten minutes went by since they left this room, found Petunia, went to the Library and came back here. But it feels like hours ago. It feels like days.
She blinks away this confusion and releases the book. Her mind immediately clears out. Harry is standing in front of her, his arms crossed and a strange expression on his face, his eyes glued on the book.
He sets his jaw.
"Are you not gonna open it?" He asks her.
Hermione inhales deeply, crossing one leg over the other, nervous. "I'm not the one that needs to do this." Her voice is low and gentle. "You know this is yours. You know you're the one who needs to open it."
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks, running a hand through his hair and then, making a face, he leans over to take the book. She immediately knows that he can feel the power and magic she was feeling. So much that it was blurring her mind.
But he's stronger. And this book was here, waiting for him all these years, waiting for the moment that it would finally reunite with its master. Hermione never thought about a book in such terms, but that's exactly what she felt when she held it.
Almost as if its sentient.
He visibly swallows hard and, sharing a final look with her, Harry opens the book.
She holds herself in place. The curiosity is intense, but she waits. She patiently waits for what he has to say. She waits for him to be ready to share. Because she knows he's reading something. There are tears rolling down his face and he begins to shake a bit.
Hermione bites on her lower lip, imagining that-
"It's-" He chokes, stopping. Harry lowers his head, sniffling. She doesn't move. It feels like a very private moment and Hermione doesn't want to break it. When he talks next, she knows she's right. "It's a message from my mother. Oh, shit." His eyes are going fast through the page.
Her hands squeeze the edge of the mattress and she leans a bit forward. He didn't even need a blood spell to unlock it. The magic around the book is stronger than what she imagined.
"What does it say?" She asks in a whisper, squinting, her eyes on his expressions and reactions. Harry moves to hand her the book, but she shakes her head. "I don't think I can read it, Harry. I think this book was meant to be seen only by your eyes."
"You're practically a part of me, love." And he sits by her side, opening the book between them. "Can you see it?" His eyes are big now, curious. It seems like he's many years younger, as if reading his mother's words was able to take him back in time.
She gulps. Hermione doesn't want to touch the book. But she can see the message. Which surprises her a lot. She nods and he opens a tiny smile, brushing a few tears from his eyes.
"Let's read together, then." He whispers.
It's a beautiful, long and very revealing message:
Dear Harry,
If you're reading this, unfortunately me and your father are no longer in this world.
But don't cry for us, son. The time we shared with you was the happiest in our lives. I still remember the day I found out I was pregnant. We were running away from a psychopath, but even so, it brought us so much joy that nothing was able to ruin it. We counted the days to meet you and when I first held you in my arms, I knew I was the luckiest woman alive. You were a cute and loving baby. You loved to be hugged and kissed. And you never stopped giggling the softest giggle when your father tickled you. I remember going to bed with a permanent smile on my face each and every night.
Regardless what might have happened, know that you were insanely loved. Know that we did what we had to protect you. Because if you're reading this, someone found you. Someone took care of you. We knew we had good chances that you might be found. And we'll be eternally thankful for that. I hope you're with your aunt now. Petunia has a natural mother's instinct. She used to take care of me and I know she'll be by your side, always.
But now, my love, pay attention.
Tom Riddle is not someone you should mess with. The man is crazy, driven by his thirst for power. He won't stop. He'll never stop. The story he's telling the press, the story the Wizarding World is being fed, is not true. He doesn't care about the fact that your father is a Pureblood and I'm a Muggleborn.
The reason why Riddle is after us is the magic contained in this book you're holding.
Harry, I'm a Muggleborn but many, many years ago my family used to be Purebloods. The Evans were respected in the Wizarding World. They were powerful and the ones in charge of this powerful book. Our family was chosen to protect the magic inside.
I know this might sound confusing, but I'm going to explain.
This comes from years in the past, son, probably four hundred or five hundred years ago. This book created itself. No one ever wrote what is in here. The magic transformed and turned into words, unable to keep existing on its own. It was clear that the magic inside was not to be handled lightly. Many powerful families were considered to protect it. However, many failed when the time came. The book rejected them. No one was able to read the incantations or understand the spells. Until an Evans did it. And so, the family became its official guard. Its Keeper.
The Evans were the only ones that could perform whatever spell was inside. And many others resented them for that. Inevitably the jealousy and envy became unbearable to those other families that felt inferior. A Curse was casted on the Evans. And from that moment on, squibs began to be constant in the huge family. Years passed and the Evans lost their power and magic, so much that they vanished from the Wizarding World. For countless years not even a single magical child was born. The book disappeared with them. It became a myth. A legend.
Until me, Harry.
I don't know what happened, why the Curse changed, but I broke it. And when another magical Evans was born, the book had to be protected again. At first I couldn't understand what was happening to me, and one day, out of the blue, I found this book inside my room. It had come to me. It wanted to be protected and its spells needed to be released, the magic had to be done.
But this was not an easy task and it took me years to be able to read it. Our whole History is told in its pages. You'll be able to read it too, someday.
At first I do believe I caught Riddle's eye because he hates Muggleborns. But I'm sure that later he began to investigate my ancestry. While he kept his eyes on us, I also prodded into his life and interests. Riddle loves Ancient History. He's fascinated by old magic and its pure nature. I know that when he was younger he took a special class in Italy that talked about lost magic. That was when he heard more about the book. And from what I gathered, he became obsessed with it.
When Riddle discovered my surname, when he understood that I came from the same Evans family that was responsible for the book, he began to watch my every step. Since I already knew he was dangerous, I kept the book hidden for as long as I could, and, in a way, it was my protection. If Riddle payed attention to the lesson, he knew that only I was able to release the magic inside the book, he knew he couldn't touch me.
So, he waited.
I was doing my best to understand and crack this book, but it was insanely difficult, it took me years. And no one, except your father, knew about this. He helped me a lot. And when we finally solved the puzzle, we found ourselves in an impossible situation.
By this time we were already living at this Muggle Village - from where I'm writing this message - and you were only two months.
We had two paths, Harry. We could pretend we never cracked the book and wait for Riddle to tire of waiting, or we could use the power inside to end him.
Maybe we made the wrong choice, but we knew we wouldn't live in peace if he kept coming for us. Months ago we performed a powerful spell. A spell from the book. It took a lot from us, but it was our way of protecting you, Harry. A protective spell to blind your enemy. He would never be able to see you. To perceive you. Even if you were right before his eyes. This was the first precaution we took. If Riddle ever sees you or crosses your path, he won't be able to recognize you unless you break this spell yourself.
And after that, we began to perform more spells, we began to-
Someone knocks on their door. Hermione blinks, looking up from the book. She's in total shock. Harry has his mouth open, his expression showing all his confusion and anger. And surprise. And sadness.
"Yes?" Hermione calls out, clearing her throat. Harry puts the book away, hiding it under the bed on the corner.
The door opens and Ron pokes his head inside.
"You'll want to see this." It's all Ron says.
Harry and Hermione share a look and hold hands while they walk out. They can see that the others are heading to the Great Hall and they go too.
Her mind is working on automatic. Lily's words are the only thing she can think about. Now she understands why her father never saw the resemblance. Now she understands why Harry walked inside that Ministry without a care in the world and her father never even considered that he might be a Potter.
But it's not about being a Potter, is it? It's about being an Evans.
And everything else Lily wrote- fucking shit. She had no idea. She never heard about this book, she never knew there was a powerful Pureblood family called Evans. And she has to confess that the book gives her terrible chills. Its magic is strong, imposing. Hermione felt as if the spells and incantations inside wanted to jump out and seize her. She felt like a vessel. Like just a means to an end.
She inhales deeply. Harry seemed unbothered by it. As if the book recognizes who he is. As if it would never do him any harm.
But she's not an Evans. She's not a Potter.
She's a fucking Riddle.
And there's a terrible sensation in her chest. There's more to Lily's message. And she wonders if they'll be able to see the spells written on the book. She wonders if Harry will be able to perform them easily.
Hermione also wonders if her father will know if they use the book. Now he knows that Harry exists. Now he knows that someone who carries the Evans blood exists.
Squeezing his hand, she exhales heavily. When she thinks they might find answers, they find more problems.
There's a huge screen at the Great Hall. It's showing a live broadcast from the Ministry. Tom Riddle is making an announcement in a few minutes.
Harry sets his jaw.
After the surprising note from his mother, Hermione's fear was not something he was expecting. He could smell the way the book shook her to the bone. He could tell that she wanted to keep a distance from it and he can't understand. He felt amazing when he held the book.
He kisses her cheek, bringing her closer to him. He wants to go back to the book. He wants to keep reading his mother's words. He wants to feel closer to her. But he knows they have to see what Riddle is going to say. And just to imagine the hell his parents went through because of this man, Harry feels that animalistic bloodlust inside him. It's dark and sticky. All consuming.
Hermione kisses his cheek, her arms squeezing him. And they stay that way, in an embrace while they wait for whatever bullshit Riddle has to say.
And he can't help feeling some anxiety. The book could be the answer to all their problems. It could show them how to end Riddle, how to overcome the powders and its influences.
His attention goes to the screen. Riddle is entering the Atrium with a smug smile on his face. There's a high platform for him to stand and give his speech. Many Aurors Harry recognizes are there to protect the Minister.
But there's no sign of the Pettigrews. No sign of Dolohov or that woman. Which is… odd. Hermione is probably right. Riddle must be planning something big. They need to be careful.
She inhales deeply and Harry tries comforting her. Her emotions are all over the place. And then, Riddle starts talking:
"I'm here today with a heavy heart." He pauses, his eyes going over the crowd that's mainly Ministry workers that know they have no choice other than be there to hear this. "I was betrayed. By my own kin." A collective murmur takes over the Atrium. But here, at the Great Hall, they're in complete silence. "As most of you know, my daughter was supposed to have married Asmodeus Pettigrew. But that didn't happen. She fled the wedding with the man she calls her soulmate. A man that I thought was just a foreigner. You know him well. Harry D'Angelo." Harry tenses, Hermione is furious. "But I found out he's a much bigger threat than what I imagined at first. He claims to be a Potter." Voices get a little louder inside the Ministry. Riddle waits, he wants people to be surprised by it, he wants people to talk about this. Harry grits his teeth. Claims to be? Hermione squeezes his side, trying to calm him down. He's almost snarling. "And if he claims such an absurd thing, what else could he be lying about? What other dirty tricks is he using?" Riddle shakes his head as if deeply disappointed. "I could talk about the Potters. I could come here and tell you how they tainted the pureness of our magical Blood. I could tell you about our best efforts to end the threat they posed. And I assure you, there are no more Potters in this world." He stops again, his voice going up a tone when he wants to emphasize something, and then lower when he wants to show how hurt he is. Harry can't believe what he's hearing. "Harry D'Angelo is a liar. And I'm sure he's using my daughter. I come here today with a plea." He moves his head to look at the device that's broadcasting this speech. It gives Harry a chill. It's almost like he's looking directly at them. "Hermione. Please. This man is lying to you. He's not your soulmate. He's not a Potter." Riddle stops and lowers his eyes, brushing a hand on one of them as if cleaning a tear. Hermione scoffs by his side, shaking her head. Now the only emotion coming from her is hate. Contempt. "I love you. You're my little girl and I know that if you did something like that you must be under some kind of powerful spell. Please, Hermione, come back home, come back to me. Oboedite mihi." Harry frowns at the Latin and feels her tensing. He looks at her, Hermione is pale, frozen, shaking.
"Love?" He calls to her, but her eyes are lost in the distance. Harry moves to be in front of her, now he's nervous, he can't smell her emotions anymore, it's almost like she's not even there.
"He's using some spell on her!" Bellatrix says, coming from the other side. Harry widens his eyes. "Hermione, don't listen to him!" Riddle is still making a plea, still calling Hermione back home with the softest voice in the world. Bellatrix shakes her, all the others are paying attention to them now.
"TURN IT OFF!" Harry screams to whoever the fuck is in charge of the screen.
Now he's desperate. He's looking at her, touching her, but it does not look like she's there, what makes Hermione, Hermione, is gone. He takes her face in both hands and looks deep into her eyes.
"Love, listen to my voice. Listen to me. Come back to me. I'm here."
The screen is turned off and Harry keeps waiting for her to respond. They're all around her, nervous. Bellatrix is holding her hand, and now Hermione's mother is crying. Harry purses his lips, doing his best not to completely lose it. He won't be able to keep going without Hermione. There's no way in hell.
"Please." He whispers, trying to see a glimmer of life behind her eyes. He takes her left hand in his and it almost knocks him down.
Their bond feels wrong. Almost as if there's someone else there, almost as if-
Riddle.
Harry grits his teeth. She's under some kind of curse and Riddle is feeding on her, he's trying to take her magic. He has no fucking clue how this is even possible, but Harry acts fast. He pours himself into the bond, invading it and breaking walls, searching for her.
He feels cold, it feels like a lost battle. He can't find her. So, Harry tries to push out the alien influence on her magic, he does his best to get rid of it.
Nothing else exists.
The voices around them don't exist. The others are not there anymore. The only thing he sees are her eyes. The only thing he feels is her warmth. Only her smell matters.
And, inhaling deeply, he keeps doing what instinctively feels right. He keeps pushing the influence away, but it resists. And now, he's getting weaker.
"Hermione." He calls to her. She's there, but she's not there and he's getting so-
"I wanna help."
Harry widens his eyes and looks down. Victor is there. His little hand outstretched. Without answering, Harry takes his hand and joins with their both. And he immediately feels the healing powers from the boy. Astonishing.
And it works. It works way better than what Harry was doing on his own. He purses his lips, hopeful now. Victor's magic is so… unbelievable. This is not normal for a little boy. At all.
Finally, Hermione squeezes his hand back and Harry widens his eyes. She's slowly returning from the influence, slowly grounding herself.
The dark curse that Riddle put on her is disappearing. He can't help breathing relieved when she blinks, her eyes focusing on him.
But then she makes a face and Harry feels the pain. It's like a burn and he grits his teeth, he's not fast enough to protect Victor, though.
The boy lets out a scream and releases their hands. The influence is gone, Hermione is back, and they're hurt.
Victor is on the floor, crying and whimpering. Hermione immediately kneels taking the boy in her arms and trying to soothe him.
Harry tries not minding the pain inside him. It comes close to the sensation someone might get after a Cruciatus. Soreness and weakness. He's breathing hard, both hands on his knees as he leans a bit forward. And for the first time he notices that the sun has set.
He widens his eyes, looking at the others.
"How long?" He asks in a strange voice, his eyes on Hermione and Victor on the floor. She's crying. The boy is holding on to her, also crying silently.
"Five hours." Chiara answers.
And the silence that follows her words is heavy. Hermione looks up at him. The emotion coming from her is strange, she feels guilty. She feels sad and… there's something more there that he can't quite pinpoint.
"He needs to be taken to the infirmary." She says. Hermione is healing Victor, but Harry knows that she's too weak for it.
Petunia crouches, close to Hermione. "Let me take him. You need to rest." She says softly, her eyes going from Harry to Hermione.
He can tell that Hermione wants to take the boy herself, but she's not strong enough so she only nods. Snape helps his aunt and Harry moves to Hermione. The others want to talk, but he says, "Later, okay? We need to rest a bit."
And not caring about what they might think, he takes Hermione in his arms. Carrying her bridal style, he walks to their room in silence. She tightens her grip around his neck, crying discreetly and hiding her face on his chest. He kisses her temple. And when he puts her on the bed, Hermione turns away from him.
He sighs. "Tell me. Please."
"I'm a liability." She whispers. "I can't stay here."
He sets his jaw. "Hermione, what are you talking-"
"We need to have a conversation with the others. Later." He frowns. "I need to rest, I'm sorry, Harry, I'm just exhausted."
She curls into a ball. Crookshanks climbs the bed to lie there with her. He raises an eyebrow. And there's not any kind of doubt in his mind when he also lies down, pulling her to him, her back on his chest. She's still crying and he kisses her neck. He kisses her cheek and her tears.
"I love you." He whispers, bringing her even closer, his heart beating faster. "No matter what."
One of her hands goes to his hair and he closes his eyes at the caress. Their legs are rubbing and, in no time, Harry is seized by the tiredness too.
When she opens her eyes, Hermione looks at the small window of their room. It's dark outside, silent. Crookshanks is still close to her and Harry has his arms around her. She exhales heavily, squeezing his hand that's on her stomach.
She feels awful. Useless. Ridiculous.
They were right all this time. Sirius, Remus… all of them. They were right. She's dangerous. Her presence among them is a threat to their plans and everything they want to do against her father.
In the end, she's cursed. It-
"Talk to me." Harry says, kissing her cheek. "I can smell your despair, but I don't know why and it's killing me."
She wets her lips, turning on the bed to face him. Her left hand goes to his hair and she takes a moment to admire him. "I love your eyes." She whispers, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you." She kisses his lips, rubbing her cheek on his, gently. "You're my world, Harry."
He exhales heavily, touching his forehead on hers. "Don't shut me out."
"I- I'm cursed." She whispers. "My father has power over me, regardless where I am. Regardless the distance. You saw what happened. He gave a command and I- he had me. It was like he was seizing my body, as if he could see with my eyes. Hear with my ears." She closes her eyes. "The only thing he saw was you because I resisted. But if it happens again, he might-"
"Stop." He puts one hand on her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I don't care. We'll deal with it. Because, what the fuck do you want to do? Leave? Stay isolated? Don't participate in our plans-"
"What if he had seized my mind? Fuck, he would have seen the book and-"
"Doesn't matter!" He says fiercely. "He won't seize you again, I'm sure we can find something in the book to stop this, I'm sure we can-"
"You stayed with me for five hours trying to bring me back, Harry." Her voice is barely coming out. "I was trapped inside myself and I had to endure the way his influence was crawling inside me. I- a little boy got hurt helping me. Fuck." She chokes, crying a bit. "I don't want to be a burden for you. For any of you."
He shakes his head. "Don't even think such things. Hermione, please."
"Harry." She whines. "I know that you're never going to shut me out, but you don't know how the others feel about it. I- I need to explain things to them, ask them, ask if they want me gone or not."
He sets his jaw, his hand squeezing her waist. "I- Okay. I understand. But if they decide they want you gone, I'll go with you."
"You can't. They're counting on you."
"There's no me without you."
She inhales deeply, inevitably opening a small smile. He also opens a tiny smile. It's been hard to find reasons to do so since her father plunged that sword into Bellaverde. And it's like Harry knows what she's thinking because he kisses her to stop such thoughts.
It's a passionate kiss. Sensual. And she corresponds.
They need this. They need to feel one another. Her hands move to pull his t-shirt off and Harry helps her. She whispers the incantation to reveal his tattoo. And her fingers trace his arm, trace his back. She kisses his neck, holding on to him, lost in the sensation. Lost in how safe she feels in his arms. No problems exist when they're like this.
His hands squeeze her under her blouse and he also murmurs the incantation to reveal her tattoo. And in no time she's taking off the piece of clothe. Harry unclasps her bra, tossing it aside and immediately kissing her breast. She sighs in delight when he takes her nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling. One of his hands gives attention to her other breast while his free hand makes its way into her waistband. Hermione digs her nails into his back when his fingers reach her hot core. She's throbbing for him, wet.
He groans, stimulating her clit gently, nuzzling her body and pinching her nipple. Crookshanks meows and climbs down from the bed and they share a sincere chuckle. She pulls his face up, needing to kiss him. Hermione can feel his erection and it drives her mad with desire.
"I need you." She whimpers, her hands fumbling with his pants.
In one swift and not so gentle move, Harry kneels on the bed and takes off her remaining clothes. She moans, feeling insane, it's like she's burning up. A crazy fever is taking over her and she's trembling from sheer anticipation of uniting with her mate.
Harry groans, he's breathing extremely hard and she marvels at the way his strong chest and abs move up and down. He squeezes her thigh and she pulls him back to her, their mouths meeting.
They really don't need words right now.
With his tongue on hers, Harry goes back to massaging her clit, slowly. They keep kissing in a way that's sloppy, incoherent. And she completely loves it. Her hand goes into his pants - that he's still wearing she has no idea why - and she closes her fingers around his cock. Harry inhales deeply, biting on her neck, moving his hips with her hand.
Two of his fingers go inside her and Hermione closes her eyes, taken by the sensation, taken by how well he knows her. They share a lustful look and she can't believe how much she loves him. Her heart aches for him even when he's right there with her.
He curls his fingers and she opens her mouth, moaning softly. The indescribable sensation takes over her while he keeps doing the same thing over and over again. She jerks, her whole body reacting to it. Harry rubs his cheek on hers and her hands move to his ass, squeezing.
She can feel her orgasm building and she's sure Harry also can. With his werewolf traits, he can almost do the impossible. And he indeed moves a bit on the bed to make this better for her and Hermione digs her nails into him, letting out a scream that he muffles with his own mouth.
He moans with her, aroused by her pleasure.
Hermione is shaking. And there are tears running down her face. From how amazing her orgasm was and from-
He kisses her face, pulling her even more to him, nestling her in his arms, taking care of her, showing her that he's always going to be there. Assuring her.
And for a few minutes she lets herself be held. She lets herself be in this bubble of peace and love they have where no one else can disturb them.
Then, he moves away from her and she observes while he gets rid of his pants and underwear. The sight of him is enough to arouse her and Hermione pinches her nipple, her eyes on him.
The love of her life.
Her savior.
Because that's it. Harry saved her. From invisible shackles. From real shackles.
And she'll do anything, anything for him. To him. Because of him. There are no lengths she won't go for her soulmate.
He leans to her again and she opens her legs for him, both sighing at how perfect this is. He takes his time. She can see that he's controlling his breathing. She can see that he's doing his best for this to be amazing for her.
Harry enters her slowly, their foreheads touching and his hands caressing her body. Gently. So gently. As if he's afraid he might break her.
She tugs on his hair and they share a look. Hermione knows that he has an instinct to breed with his mate on the full moon. The notion wrecks her. It- Harry shakes his head, as if reading her mind. And he kisses the tip of her nose. He-
Deeply, he thrusts. And they're holding each other so tightly. They're feeling each other so completely. He seeks her left hand with his and Hermione can barely breathe with the sensation.
They're connected in all the possible ways.
It's amazing.
He moans, moving a bit to make this better for her and she lets out another little scream. With their magic touching and dancing and- Hermione knows she'll reach a second orgasm insanely fast.
And now Harry is moving faster, roughly.
They keep kissing while she takes him and it's so freaking delicious-
When he reaches his orgasm, it takes her to the edge again. They groan together. Harry thrusts a few more times, their hearts beating in an insane rhythm.
It- they needed this.
Both relax in their embrace.
And then, she lets herself cry a bit more. He also cries with her. She feels for Bellaverde. She feels for their future and the Ritual they never got the chance to perform. She feels for the hard path they have ahead.
Harry is the one who breaks the silence after a while.
"Let's get married." He whispers.
She widens her eyes and turns her head to look at him. There's a side smile on his face. "I- what do you mean?"
"I mean, let's get married. Tomorrow."
She blinks a few times. Then, she opens the same side smile. "Okay."
His smile gets a tad bigger and she kisses him. And then, both their stomachs manifest themselves. Which makes them chuckle.
"Let's eat and talk to the others. Then, we can finish reading my mother's message."
She agrees and they use a few spells to put them back to a state that doesn't scream 'we just had sex'.
Harry keeps watching her. He knows how much she's suffering. And he tries not being so open about it. Hermione doesn't want him to solve things for her. She wants his support and that's what he's going to give her.
They had no idea it was so late. Everyone else is asleep and Dobby and a few other elves agreed on cooking them a few things. And the food is delicious.
He exhales heavily while they chew in silence. It's not a heavy or uncomfortable silence, it's just natural. They're both thinking a thousand things. He wants to go back to the room and finish his mother's message. He also can't stop thinking about Riddle's influence. How he took over Hermione. For sure what he did was similar to the incantation used with the counselors - who are still in a deep sleep. Riddle waited as much as he could before using this on Hermione. He was trying to see where they are, trying to see how many they are.
But now that she knows this can happen, she'll be prepared. They all will. Harry has no doubt the others won't let her leave- Suddenly he smells something different coming from her and he raises his head.
She clears her throat. "I keep thinking about that Muggle couple." Harry purses his lips. He's glad she saw the memory, but at the same time he's sad she had to see something like that. "Maybe we should go to their house tomorrow." He nods once and- "After we get married and such."
He raises an eyebrow, smiling. She's talking seriously. And it makes him incredibly happy. It's a joy that may seem misplaced after all that happened, but it's sincere. It's real.
Taking her hand in his, he kisses it. "Deal."
He knows they didn't plan a thing, but he has no doubt that everyone is going to agree to it. There's no reason whatsoever stopping them from being husband and wife. Not anymore.
Hermione smiles. He can tell that she's also happy, but… "Don't feel guilty." He whispers.
She sighs, shaking her head and eating some more. When they finish, she says, "Could we visit Victor before going back to the room?"
"Of course."
And their walk to the infirmary is slow. His arm is around her shoulders and hers is around his middle, she's leaning on him while they go and Harry kisses her head, inhaling her scent. Secure. He feels safe with her. It's like nothing can harm him when they're like this.
They haven't exactly talked about the fact that their only hope at changing Hermione's fertility status is gone. He knows she doesn't want to talk about it. Not now. But he needs to make sure that she knows that he's not holding this against her. Never. It's not her fault. Any of it.
So, he stops walking and she moves her head to look at him. "What?" She asks softly.
The moon is shining brightly and he loves looking at her with such illumination. "Love, please, don't think that…" He puts one hand over her belly. Hermione purses her lips, their eyes meeting. "This is not your fault. None of it."
She sets her jaw, averting her eyes. He chews the inside of his cheek. Hermione makes an ugly face, trying to stop her tears.
"I-" Her voice is low. "I'm so sorry." She sobs and he embraces her. "It kills me that I can't give you children and-"
"Shh."
It hurts him to see her like this. They were so hopeful. So sure that the Ritual would heal every little crack Riddle made. And he stops himself from thinking about Riddle. It infuriates him and that's not what this conversation is about.
But he'll make sure Riddle pays. Of that he is.
She inhales deeply and kisses his neck, taking his hand. And they resume their walk to the infirmary.
The healer who took care of Victor was there, watching the boy. He said that he was just fine. All healed and such. He was asleep and Harry and Hermione didn't want to wake him up. And when they were leaving the infirmary, they saw Crookshanks entering it through the window. Hermione only shook her head and Harry chuckled. The cat likes Victor.
Crookshanks doesn't like people. Not any people. He loves Hermione and he loves Harry because of the bond he shares with her, because they're soulmates, but… why Victor? What connects the boy to them?
He leaves this thought for another time when they enter the room. Without words, Harry prepares to sleep, and only in his boxers he sits on the bed, waiting for Hermione. He can see her inside the bathroom and his eyes are drawn to her tattoo. His is also exposed and he decides that he's never going to conceal it again. Hermione shouldn't either.
Harry had already brought some of their clothes before, counting that his plan of saving her from that wedding would work. And because of that, he smiles when their eyes meet. She's coming to bed only in her panties. He tilts his head. She's so freaking sexy. Naturally sexy.
His back is resting against the headboard and Hermione makes herself comfortable between his legs. He kisses her neck, rubbing his stubble on her skin and loving the way it leaves a red trail. She shivers and he sees her nipples hardening. He inhales deeply, squeezing her in his arms.
Then, he simply wills the book to his hand. Hermione wets her lips when he opens it in front of her. They both can read it:
And after that, we began to perform more spells, we began to test things out.
The book contains all sorts of spells, incantations, curses, rituals. Ancient and powerful magic. Stuff that you're not going to learn at School or anywhere else. This is unique. And that's why it's so precious. Some spells are silly and less powerful while others can change… everything. If Riddle finds a way of reading this, he could alter History, Harry. He could become the most powerful wizard in this world.
It was no coincidence that the Evans were chosen to protect the book. Its magic knew that we were sincere at heart, not greedy.
Harry, I'm writing you this now because we feel Riddle growing more and more impatient. He'll strike eventually. We don't know when or how. But we're not going to flee. We want to fight. We want to protect you and if what we're planning works, we might be able to end him.
We're sure Riddle already knows we're using the book, but a powerful thing he surely wants, we haven't dared to try. Yet. It's a Ritual. It gives the power of the Phoenix to the one that's chosen. This is a long forgotten myth: that a wizard or witch would be able to hold this magic inside them and control endless fire. Healing fire. But not just that, destructive fire also. Riddle wants this and we plan on performing this Ritual. Soon. Maybe this is the key to defeat him.
Son, I know this is a lot to take in, but I hope this information reaches you in a time of need. I have no idea what's going to happen, but if Riddle lives, he'll grow more and more powerful each year. The book is not the only source of Ancient Magic and I'm sure he already encountered others that fuel his magic and abilities.
Be careful, Harry.
We love you.
He inhales deeply. Hermione is silent. His mind is reeling but he turns the pages of the book. They're all blank. He closes it with a thud. Hermione holds his forearms, the book resting on her belly. He can feel her discomfort.
"You don't like the book." He states.
"Its magic makes me… uneasy. I don't have Evans blood."
He nods, understanding. Then, he settles the book on the floor. She visibly relaxes.
But he's not relaxed. He's wondering-
"They performed the Ritual." Hermione says. "The power went to you. The magic. They wanted it to end my father but it chose you." She's whispering.
He closes his eyes. "I- fuck." Hermione squeezes his hands that are circling her.
"They tried, Harry."
He stays silent, thinking about his mother's words. They knew Riddle was closer, on to them. They could have fled. They chose to fight. Which kindles an ambiguous emotion inside him. He's proud and sad. They could be alive. They could-
"My father was never going to stop. They chose right. They had to try." Her words calm his heart and he kisses her cheek. "The power is yours now and the book is safe." She turns in his arms. "And you're alive." Her hands cup his face. "They succeed in a way."
He bites his lower lip, nodding, their eyes locked. "Maybe if I use my fire, I can kill him." He says in a low voice. "Fuck, I should have done it when I had the chance. When he was bleeding on the sand. Before he killed Bellaverde." Hermione sighs, touching her forehead on his.
"You need to learn how to control this first." She says in an even tone. He can smell the worry. "You can't use this at will. It might consume you. It might kill you. It's also destructive fire and insanely powerful magic, Harry. It was so powerful that found a way of containing itself in a book. It needs vessels. But it doesn't care about them. We need to be careful."
Her words anger him a bit. "Maybe if I hadn't been so fucking careful, Bellaverde would still be alive." She blinks a few times, surprised. "If I had used my fire to take those wards down, she would be at the Valley, flying. Not buried."
Hermione gulps. "Don't go down that path of 'what ifs'. Things happened the way they did."
Harry crosses his arms. They only stare at each other for a while. She's angry with him now. And he's pissed. He's the one to blame. The one who dragged Bellaverde to that beach.
"We're not gonna end your father if we behave like cowards." His tone is sharp and Hermione clearly doesn't like it. "I won't hesitate again, Hermione."
She sets her jaw. Harry can smell the way she hates this conversation. He can see how uncomfortable she is. But he's not changing his mind on this. "I know." She says through her teeth. "But you can't do everything on your own, Harry."
He stops himself from saying that the Ritual worked and he's the one with the Phoenix power. He's the one who needs to do this. No one else will be able to.
Hermione inhales deeply. "Your mother made it pretty clear that my father found other sources of Ancient Magic. We have no idea what he can really do."
He shrugs. "I don't care." Now, she's furious. "I don't care because whatever the fuck he throws at me, I'm going to stop it. I can take him, Hermione. You saw it."
She moves a bit away from him, shaking her head. He wants to pull her back to him but he doesn't. Hermione crosses her arms over her breasts. He can see her taking deep breaths. Calming down. Then, she says, "Lily also mentioned… healing fire."
He tilts his head. "Indeed." And, making a face he brings up some fire to his hand. "What if I- could I heal you? For good? From everything?"
Hermione shakes her head. "I don't think so. I-" Her eyes are on the flame he's sustaining. "When you were burning up inside Matteo's office, I couldn't even touch you. And since then we've healed each other a lot through the bond and nothing changed…"
"You're right." He says in a low voice, extinguishing the fire. "What do you think I need to do to be able to read the book?"
"A blood spell."
He nods. He thought so too. "Tomorrow, then." He needs to sleep now. He's tired.
She nods and, in silence Hermione lies down by his side. But she doesn't touch him. He knows she's angry. Worried, feeling useless.
A silence fills the room. This one is not so comfortable.
He also lies down, respecting her wish, looking at the ceiling. He closes his eyes, but he doesn't sleep. He- it's impossible to rest or feel good knowing that Hermione is angry at him. He turns his head to her. She's even further away from him now. He makes a face.
"Beautiful." He calls her. Hermione doesn't answer but he knows she's awake. "Are you still going to marry me tomorrow?"
She snorts a chuckle. "Yes."
He smiles. She extends a hand behind her back and he takes it, intertwining their fingers. With his other arm over his eyes, it does not take long for Harry to fall asleep.
She's afraid. Bright lights are shining. The steps inside are loud. And she tries closing her eyes to make them go away. Her mother tells her this all the time. 'Just close your eyes, honey, monsters are not real'.
And she obeys.
But when she opens her eyes again, they're still there.
She sees legs. And she hears voices.
The monsters are real. And-
Hermione sits on the bed in one move. Harry is right there, his arms around her.
He kisses her neck, his hands on her back, soothing her. "I'm here. It's okay. Love, it's okay."
She takes deep breaths, her nails digging into him.
It's the first time ever that she's sleeping with Harry and she wakes up because of a nightmare. And he's probably thinking the same thing.
Their eyes meet. She's crying.
"The same nightmare?" He asks, his mouth finding her cheek, comforting her.
She nods. "I- I don't know why, it-" She closes her eyes, shaking her head. "Fuck."
"It's okay." He kisses her head. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Hermione shakes her head. He keeps holding her, pulling her to lie down, her head on his chest. Her cry subsides and she tries clearing her mind. He's caressing her hair, his warmth and scent protecting her.
It- the nightmare felt different this time. And she mulls over it while her fingers trace patterns over his chest and abs. Harry is quiet, respecting her, knowing that she's thinking hard about something, knowing that she's trying to understand why-
It clicks inside her head and Hermione opens her mouth. She squeezes his abs.
"Ouch." He complains.
"Harry." Her voice is grave. She looks up, into his eyes. "It was not a nightmare." He frowns. "It never was. It's a memory." He widens his eyes. "A fucking repressed memory." She sits on the bed, shocked. "Fuck. That's why I- that's why I keep dreaming about it." She blinks many times. "Some things change, but the message of the memory is always the same. I have no idea why it came to me tonight, but-" She stops. He also sits on the bed.
"Describe it to me."
She does. With as much detail as she can. He gulps when she finishes. Hermione has no doubt her father obliviated her-
"I don't think it was an obliviation." Harry says in a low voice when she mentions it to him. "If it were, you wouldn't dream about it." She inhales deeply.
"I- From what I gathered I was pretty young. It's all very hazy. And I think my mind refuses the memory, I- I don't know."
Harry sighs, looking out the window. "It's almost dawn." He says. And he embraces her, lying back down. "Let's sleep some more, I'm exhausted."
His arms are strong around her and she relaxes, closing her eyes. He's right. They need to rest.
"I'm still a bit angry at you, though." She mumbles and he snorts a chuckle.
Harry kisses her neck. "Okay, duly noted. Can't wait to marry you."
Regardless everything, she smiles. And soon, she's sleeping again.
No nightmares this time.