No Longer Helpless

Chapter Twenty-Two
Disturbing Truths

While two very weary and rather injured rookie Aurors made their way up to a sanctuary of a castle, a select group sat comfortably in the Headmaster’s office.

A kindling fire warmed the room. The rain seemed to have brought a bit of a chill to the usually mild August air. The castle’s stonewalls were the first to let cold in.

Behind Dumbledore’s desk was the only visible window, which showed a sleet grey sky beyond the steady stream of water cascading down it. When the winds shift, the rain would rap harshly against the glass, reminding them that the rain hadn’t let up in the least.

Those present in the office were all concerned, though perhaps for different reasons, about any news regarding Hermione and Draco.

The Headmaster sat behind his desk, slightly relaxed, and stared into the dancing flames while contemplating a few matters.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny were seated in conjured armchairs, while Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley paced back and forth behind them.

“Molly, Remus, please sit down. Moody will be here shortly.” Dumbledore waved a hand and conjured another set of chairs. It seemed as though no matter how crowded his office became there was always room.

Harry and Ron had looks of fury plastered on their faces, while Ginny sat apprehensive and nervous.

Harry’s eyes danced with his emotions, which he found rather difficult to contain. He was the first to speak. “Where is Hermione?” His low and steady tone carried a heavy undertone, leaving no room for any reply other than a direct answer.

Pressing his luck, Dumbledore studied Harry for a moment. Finding the young man would settle for nothing short of the absolute truth, he answered, “As far as we know she is in Italy attending a school called Druids Mantra.” He stopped there, wondering if this would suffice, but was invariably compelled to divulge everything upon seeing Harry’s expectant gaze. “She is playing the role of a very well known young woman called Vera Valor.”

At these words, Molly Weasley gasped. Not even she had known the details. Neither had Remus apparently as he blanched visibly. But, it wasn’t their place to question Dumbledore on this. After all, the assignment was common knowledge, but the details were top secret. So, they kept their mouths closed and allowed him to continue with whatever else he was going to reveal.

“Since her departure, we have not heard anything. But, this is not unexpected. In fact, Moody isn’t even expecting to hear from her until the end of this week at least,” the wise wizard assured upon seeing the horror flashing across fierce emerald and blue eyes.

While both Harry and Ron seemed at a loss for any of this being normal or expected, Ginny prompted the next question. “Haven’t you had contact with her throughout the mission. I mean, how can you tell us you haven’t heard from her, when that could very well mean she’s… in trouble.” The young redhead had to settle for her last choice of words, unable to bring herself to voice her own fears of never seeing the bright eyed know-it-all ever again.

“Yes, it was rather risky sending them off without any support, but the final decision was swayed by Draco. Both Moody and myself have the utmost confidence that they are capable enough to succeed.” His eyes did not have their usual twinkle as he noticed the remaining uncertainty in all three young faces.

“Draco? Malfoy is with her then?” Harry asked in a low sardonic voice, almost scoffing at the idea of Hermione and Draco being together. It was becoming a constant theme at their tableside chats and he now found it annoying for the fact that he was becoming less surprised.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore answered trying to impress that it was not just a common factoid, but a good thing. “They are partners and don’t go anywhere without each other.”

Upon seeing the cringing reaction from Ron, the Headmaster questioned whether he should keep going or not. His decision was made when he reminded himself that they were no longer the eleven year olds who needed to be protected from certain truths. Now they were young men, both needing to accept reality when presented with it. “Much as you like to argue with Mr. Malfoy, he is not the enemy.”

Ron snorted. “Oh sure, because the past six years has made us the best of friends.”

Molly wanted to chastise her son for speaking so boldly and out of line, but again she remained silent, knowing this was for the Headmaster to handle.

“As I have been here throughout those six years, I seem to recall that any hostility was not merely one sided. Mr. Malfoy has his reasons for being with us and has agreed that in light of more urgent circumstances his childish antics mean nothing.” What would it take for the two of them to see passed their misconceptions and bias?

“Well, I haven’t heard his reasons for suddenly changing sides,” Ron spat.

“And nor will you Mr. Weasley,” came Remus’ voice, from behind them, lacking its usual warmth. “Everyone is entitled to privacy on some matters.”

Somehow, Ron seemed crushed that the coolest professor and werewolf they knew had suddenly reprimanded him. He fell silent and brooded stormily, but was far more willing to listen.

Harry seemed to have a similar reaction, only now he questioned Remus to gauge the man’s exact stance on the matter. “So, you trust Malfoy then?”

Remus stood from the edge of his seat and walked over to stand beside the desk, better able to face those he was talking to. He leaned casually against the piece of furniture and crossed his arms in an authoritative way. “Not nearly as much as either Dumbledore or Severus, but yes I do have some level of trust in him. Hermione seems to trust him implicitly, and I’ve always held her judge of character in high account.”

Smiling at Remus seamless effort of tactful debate, Dumbledore gave an agreeing nod.

Silence followed as the words of the marauder washed over Harry and Ron. It was true. Malfoy was here to stay. While they may not like it, rather hated it actually, there was nothing they could do. Hermione trusted the blonde ferret, which made them slightly more accepting. They, however, were nowhere near ready to trust the ferret themselves.

There was one thing that Ron still refused to accept. “Hermione can’t train as an Auror,” he stated confidently, sitting straighter in the chair.

Remus cast on look at Dumbledore, giving him a quizzical look. Then he turned back to give Ron a disbelieving one. “Ron, you do know that she has already completed much of her training? She made her decision.”

“It doesn’t matter, she’ll stop now,” the redhead replied.

Much to Remus’ surprise, Harry nodded in agreement and Ginny piped in, “I don’t think she should be do it either.”

“Am I to understand that you three as her best friends do not support the choice she has made?”

The three youths still didn’t waver, but remained firm in their conviction on the matter.

‘How odd, that they should accept Malfoy’s choice over Hermione’s,’ the werewolf thought. Molly had summoned him there because the three young adults were more prone to listening to him than anyone else, even Dumbledore. Now was just such a case of being able to reach them best. But, even he knew there was only so much he could try to open their eyes to.

Sighing softly, Remus said, “You will have to take that matter up with Hermione herself, I’m afraid I have no say over it.”

Again there was silence, rather uncomfortable too, as each listened to the sounds of the crackling fire and pounding rain. The flames seemed to flickering wildly as a sudden cold breeze blew through the room.

The winds carried such a chill that each person present shivered. An echo, or voice carried on this unexplainable breeze reached their ears. No words were discernable, just a voice calling out.

Hastily, the Headmaster stood. Causing alarm to rise in the everyone except Remus, who seemed to react in the same manner as Dumbledore.

Remus looked at his former teacher. “Are they here Albus?”

“I believe so, which means Moody will be here any second,” he answered.

The two men swept for the office door, giving no explanation for their sudden exchange or current actions. Harry and Ron stood to follow, earning a ceasing hand from a rather concerned Lupin.

“Like hell we’re not coming!” Ron stated as he continued to walk after them, Harry right beside him.

Ginny stood up as well, turning her mother. “Mum, I’m really sorry we left so suddenly. We should have known to tell you first. Dad will be worried if no one is home. You look tired, I think you should get some rest.”

Momentarily stunned by her daughter’s sudden mature and confident air, Mrs. Weasley just stared. It was true she was tired, and had been since the war started, but tonight seemed to be one of those nights where it really got to her.

“I’m sure everything is fine, professor Lupin and Dumbledore are with us and I’ll be home shortly, so why don’t you go on ahead?” she urged, seeing the bags under her mother’s eyes and feeling guilty that her actions had added to the stress she must have been under.

Smiling, as any proud mother would, Mrs. Weasley stood and hugged her only daughter tightly before agreeing to follow her advice.

Once her mother had left, Ginny made to follow the other four who had left hastily without another word after Ron’s insisting. She honestly didn’t know which way they had gone, but the air seemed to become slightly colder in the direction that lead down toward the Great Hall and front entrance. So, she headed in this direction.

The silence was eerie, as each footstep resounded down the empty halls. There were no classes in session or other people nearby. The lights were gone, and she was left with darkened halls, which only reflected sleet grey light from the sky outside.

Never before had she felt anything but totally safe and comfortable within the walls of the castle. Ginny was afraid that something unimaginable had happened. For the life of her, she couldn’t even guess what that breeze or voice was, nor why Lupin and Dumbledore had reacted as they had.

Rounding the final corner to view the long stretch of the enormous corridor that served as the main atrium, one of the great doors was open, which must have caused the chill. It was then that Ginny saw the group she had been hoping to catch up to.

Remus was physically restraining Harry and Ron, which only he could manage with the added strength of being a werewolf. Upon seeing this, Ginny propelled herself across the marbled flooring, sprinting the thirty feet between herself the others.

Once Remus caught sight of her wild red hair, he seemed a little put out that he might have to restrain her as well, obviously not able to actually manage all three of them. Luckily, Ginny didn’t seem to have a gleam of insanity in her eyes as she saw the deathly looking heap of Hermione and Draco.

Oddly, the youngest Weasley flew right past the entire scene, not slowing down, but if anything picking up speed. “Pomfrey,” was the only word she shouted as she continued to bolt passed them.

Had the circumstances been different, Dumbledore, Remus, and Moody would have all paused to admire the young girl’s reaction.

“Remus!” Harry shouted, “Let us go! We want to see Hermione!”

“Only if you don’t touch her, she’s injured, you might make it worse,” he breathed heavily under the strain of forcing back two teenaged wizards whose statures rivaled that of professional Quidditch players.

“Fine!” Ron agreed, now struggling because he was a little sore that his middle-aged professor was able to restrain all his efforts with the use of a single arm.

Ron and Harry joined Dumbledore and Moody, standing before the spectacle of entwined bodies. Seeing this caused both Harry and Ron to blanche visibly. Malfoy had his paws all over her, holding her close. The worst part was, that underneath her wet mop of curls and mud-smeared cheeks her expression was serene and almost content looking.

Moody looked elated at the sight of them, while Dumbledore looked most grieved. These two opposite reactions prompted Remus to question them. “Alastor, what are you so giddy about?”

“I don’t do giddy Moony!” the peg legged Auror growled. “But, if you must know, I’m pleased at the time in which they were able to complete their mission. Truly remarkable.”

“Albus,” Remus started on the other man. “Care to explain your reaction?”

Stirring from his reverie Dumbledore looked at Moody to confirm something. “You say the ministry was in an uproar about the fluctuating pressures?”

“Yes. It’s been going on all evening. On a scale never before seen. Albus, I daresay it was impossible to have readings as high as that.”

“Remus, my concern lies in knowing that whatever the Ministry detected, Voldemort did as well. Severus already explained the new focus of the Dark Lord’s obsession, now I fear he will stop at nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, wondering what could possibly be worse than an injured Hermione before them.

“We’ll continue this in the Hospital Wing,” Dumbledore answered as Madame Pomfrey came huffing in tow of an impatient Ginny.

**

It was the second hour in which Ron, Ginny, and Harry sat quietly watching over their friend.

The boys’ anger had abated slightly over the fact that Madame Pomfrey had so easily seen fit to place Hermione and Malfoy in the same bed. As it was, not even Remus could pry Draco’s arms away from Hermione, and they were afraid that if they tampered too much Hermione might unwillingly use her powers to repel them.

So the pair lay, much the same as inside the main entrance, huddled close with the ferret’s slimy hands holding onto her.

It had been explained that although their injuries were easily mended, they were sufficiently drained and needed as much rest as it took.

Harry thought back to the last of his conversation with Dumbledore.

**
“Harry, I’m sure you remember how Hermione spent much of her time sleeping before,” the older wizard said, casting a still concerned glance over his half moon spectacles.

“Yeah, and how she woke up as another person,” the dark haired boy added, his green eyes dancing with impatience. “Sir, I don’t want to pry, but I feel I have a right to know. Why were you so concerned earlier, and now? If Hermione is going to be fine, then what is so troubling?”

Sighing, the Headmaster nodded. “I suppose you do have a right to know. Though, I should impress that your actions tonight did nothing to speak of your maturity.”

Again he was left wondering whether Harry would ever be able to collect himself enough to be ready to face Voldemort. “When Hermione first released her abilities, the Ministry was able to detect it easily. You know all about their general gauging of fluctuations in the pressure that magic has on the atmosphere.”

The white bearded man paused to make certain Harry did know what he spoke of. “Well, that night of the attack, the pressure was so immense that it topped the scales. Voldemort was most certainly just as aware of the large amount of raw magic involved. He became rather keen on getting Hermione’s power.”

He paused once more to study Harry’s reaction. The boy’s face looked worried, as did the two Weasley’s. “We have of course taken every measure to ensure this does not happen, and I might say that Hermione’s training as an Auror can only keep her safe in this respect.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard, now speaking to the three of them as much as he was thinking to himself. “Earlier this evening, in what we can only assume was an end to their assignment, the pressure sparked new heights yet again. Although not quite as high as before, it lasted for some time. That initial release a couple months ago lasted for only a short few minutes. Today however it went on and off for a good couple hours.”

“So, what your saying is, Hermione used a whole lot of magic?” Ron asked.

Shaking his head, the Headmaster corrected, “Not just Hermione Mr. Weasley, which is another startling fact. Hermione’s raw power as an Angelus is a probable cause for such bursts of pressure, but Mr. Malfoy here seems to have been rivaling her just as much. The fact that Draco was able to do this is and the fact that the two of them were able to use such energies for a prolonged period of time is most disturbing,” he concluded.

“Why?” Ginny asked.

“Because, Miss Weasley, it is by all means an impossibility.” He remained at a loss for an explanation even after much thinking and theorizing. “And now I fear, Voldemort will stop at nothing to have her.”

**

Dumbledore’s last words left an empty and cold feeling inside of Harry. Voldemort was out to get the golden angel of their trio. It was times like these that he felt it necessary to sit back and clear his mind, lest he do something dangerously rash.

He’d never let that insane murderer get Hermione, not in a million years.

The previous summer, he’d had the worst time trying to cope with the weight placed on his shoulders by the prophecy. Now however, his path couldn’t be clearer. As if killing his parents wasn’t enough, Riddle wanted Hermione now.

While the list of victims had grown, Harry hadn’t dabbled too far into the idea that one day the next might be Ron or Hermione. He knew their lives were in danger, but never before had he been forced to imagine the scenario in his head.

The mere thought of the vile wretch even harboring thoughts about her made his blood boil. Riddle had no right to think about her, let alone touch her or attempt to use her. He’d stop the evil man at all costs, suddenly more accepting of the idea that he’d have to become a murderer himself to do so.

Whatever it took, he’d do it.

Well into the night, after Ron and Ginny had retired to nearby beds, Harry sat awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled his chair up close and had fallen into a mindless habit of playing with Hermione’s hair. Stroking the soft curls, twirling it through his rough fingers, watching and waiting. This time, he would be the first one she saw when she woke up. The last time this had happened and he hadn’t been there, a whole mess of trouble followed.

As if sensing the brooding dark haired boy’s penetrating gaze, Hermione began to stir.

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