Chapter 18
As Harry and Hermione descended to the dungeons for Potions on Friday afternoon near the beginning of March, they were met with the Snake Nest all sniggering as they huddled together outside the Potions classroom door, reading something one of them was holding.
But a second later, Pansy spotted them, and giggled, "There they are, there they are!"
As the Snakes broke apart, Pansy tossed the magazine they'd been reading from to Hermione, saying loudly, "You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!"
Hermione caught the magazine and gave the Slytherin girl a bored look, before finally deigning to look down at the magazine she'd just been given. It was the latest issue of Witch Weekly. But before she had a chance to look for whatever the Snake Nest had been sniggering about, the dungeon door opened and Snape ushered them all into his lair of doom.
Hermione wasn't so stupid as to try reading anything other than the blackboard with the directions of the day's potion on it in the middle of Snape's class, as curious as she might have been at why either her or Harry or both were in Witch Weekly, so she stuffed the magazine deep in her bag to pull back out and read at supper, before following Harry to the rearmost table in the dungeon as always. Pulling out the necessary ingredients once Snape had written the ingredients and instructions for the potion up on the board, she and Harry quietly concentrated on brewing their wit-sharpening potion, ignoring all of the Slytherins constantly looking in her and Harry's direction like they seriously thought Hermione was going to try and read a magazine in the middle of any class, let alone Snape's, and waiting to see if she and Harry would be upset by the article.
But near the end of class, something occurred to distract the Slytherins' attention away from Hermione's continued not reading of magazines in the middle of class. There was a knock on the door, and once Snape had bid the guest enter, it opened and the Durmstrang Headmaster, Karkaroff, came stalking in and up to Snape's desk. From where they sat at the very back of the room, Harry and Hermione couldn't hear what Karkaroff was saying to Snape, but he clearly looked agitated about something and was twisting his finger around his goatee. He stood there talking to Snape for a minute, before Snape started ignoring him and the foreigner proceeded to just hover behind Snape's desk until the bell finally rang.
As Harry and Hermione packed up their belongings, they saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm, but from where they were in the back of the room they couldn't see what it was, or hear what the two were saying to each other. But having more important things to concern themselves with, such as food and the Witch Weekly article, they left the classroom with the rest of the class, leaving the adults behind to argue about whatever it was they were arguing about.
Finally sitting down in the Great Hall for supper a few minutes later, Hermione pulled the magazine out of her bag to see what all the ruckus the Slytherins had been going on about was. It didn't take her long to find the article in question, and she spread it out on the table between her and Harry to read.
~HP~
Harry Potter's Secret Heartache
A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy who has seemingly overcome every obstacle in his path. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter has found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, muggleborn Hermione Granger. But is his seemingly idyllic relationship really all it seems?
Miss Granger is a plain but ambitious girl, and it turns out it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured the TriWizard champion's interest. In fact, he might not even actually be interested in her at all.
Fleur Delacour, a fellow champion, was seen kissing Harry after the second task, but so far nothing seems to have come of it, despite the French girl being far prettier than Miss Granger, along with being a fellow champion, something Miss Granger can't claim. So could there be something to the anonymous source from inside Hogwarts claiming the muggleborn is using a love potion to keep the Boy-Who-Lived and youngest TriWizard champion trapped with her? It would certainly seem to be supported by what one of the girls at Hogwarts had to say.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that he can break through this enchantment, and next time bestow his heart on a worthier candidate.
~HP~
Harry and Hermione looked up at each other, barely able to keep from bursting out laughing. It was the most ridiculous thing either of them had ever read.
But before they could actually collect themselves enough to say anything about it to each other, they heard a voice from behind them hiss, "I told you! I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of — of scarlet woman!"
Hermione burst out laughing, before turning around to look at the redhead.
"Scarlet woman?" she snorted, shaking with suppressed giggles. "Seriously, Ron?"
"It's what my mum calls them," Ron growled back at her, offended at what he perceived to be an insult about his mother.
"Well, if that's the best Rita can do, she's lost her touch, along with possibly her mind," replied Hermione, as she rolled up Witch Weekly and stuck it back in her bag to glance over the rest of later. "What a laugh."
She then looked across the hall at the gang of Slytherins who'd given her the article, and who were once again watching her and Harry closely to see if they had been upset by the article. She gave them a sarcastic smile and wave. Then turning back to Harry, she asked him what he thought they should do the next day in Hogsmeade, giving the article no more of her time.
But the article, unfortunately, wasn't done giving her any more of its time. Three days later, as Harry and Hermione were finishing up breakfast and watching the owl post fly in, waiting on her daily copy of the Prophet, a grey owl followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny all landed at her plate, where Harry just barely saved her goblet of orange juice from getting knocked over in all the jostling. But none of them were carrying the Daily Prophet.
Hermione gave Harry a curious look before opening the letter from the gray owl. As she read it, her eyebrows rose slightly, before she rolled her eyes and handed the letter over to Harry to read saying, "People are such sheep — believing completely unsupported claims about people they don't know anything about or have any connection to."
Harry took the letter from her and read, YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.
"The rest the same?" asked Harry as he set it back down on the table.
"Yep — 'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you….', 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn….'," began Hermione, before exclaiming, "Ouch!"
The last envelope she'd opened contained undiluted bubotuber pus, and her hands erupted in large yellow boils.
"Quick — get to the hospital wing!" exclaimed Harry. "I'll tell Professor Sprout what happened."
Harry had just begun gathering up the letters to toss in first fire he came across, when Ron sat down next to him and said pompously, "I warned her! I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one..." he said grabbing one of the letters out of the pile, and reading it out loud: "I read in Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' "
Snatching the letter away from the redhead, Harry stuffed them all down in his bag (except the one with the pus, which he just left on the table for someone with actual authority to take care of), and said, "Why are you so obsessed with Hermione's fight with Rita? It's not like it affects you in any way."
And then he grabbed his bag up and strode out of the Great Hall towards the greenhouses, not giving Ron any chance to reply.
Herbology was a lonely affair without his best friend and plant partner, and he spent most of the class hoping she was okay — Madam Pomfrey was usually quite quick about healing injuries, no matter how extensive. But eventually the bell finally rung, and he headed down towards Hagrid's hut praying she'd be along soon.
As he walked past the stone steps coming down from the castle, Pansy, who was descending with the rest of the Snake Nest, caught sight of him and shouted, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"
"You really have no human decency, do you?" replied Harry, disappointedly shaking his head, even though inside he felt like replicating what Hermione had done to Draco the year before for Pansy's part in sending Hermione to the hospital wing with her quote to Rita — and speaking of Rita, he wouldn't mind slapping her as well, or at least charging her in the Wizengamot as an accessory to assault and possibly attempted murder, or something along those lines, for her article that had led to all this. But as that unfortunately wasn't actually feasible as a fourteen year old, or in the magical world in general, he simply continued on, "And my girlfriend isn't the least bit upset with me — you, on the other hand, might want to ask your pal Malfoy what happens when someone pisses off the brightest witch of the age."
As Draco visibly shuddered in remembrance of the humiliation he'd suffered at the hand of the mudblood, Harry turned his back on them and continued walking down to Hagrid's like nothing had happened. But as the Snakes walked up to where Harry was already waiting for class to begin a few minutes later, he saw Draco and Pansy arguing in a whisper, and guessed that Draco had never informed his girlfriend of his getting slapped into tomorrow by Hermione the year before. Unfortunately, this did nothing to keep him from starting to get seriously worried about Hermione when she still wasn't back from the hospital wing as Care of Magical Creatures class began.
But at the very end of class, he finally spotted her walking across the grounds towards them from the castle. As she walked up, he noticed her hands were heavily scared and looked very sore based on how gingerly she was holding them. He also noticed Pansy Parkinson watching her beadily, though whether out of fear that she might be next on Hermione's slap list, or gloating because of the injury she'd caused the smarter, prettier girl, Harry wasn't positive — and he knew it was possibly both.
While Harry helped Hagrid put the nifflers in their cages after class was over, and Hermione stood nearby watching them, Hagrid looked over at her and asked, "What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?"
Hermione explained to the half-giant all about the Witch Weekly article, and the hate mail she'd received that morning because of it, including the envelope with bubotuber pus in it.
"Aaah, don' worry," replied Hagrid, causing Harry to bristle slightly, as he felt it was very much something worth worrying over when people started sending you poisoned letters. But Hagrid continued on, "I got some o' those letters an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote about me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake' — things like that."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Hagrid!" exclaimed Hermione, always thinking about others before herself. "I knew you said you'd gotten letters from people who wanted you gone, but I didn't realize just how mean people could be to complete strangers until seeing what I got the mail I got this morning!"
"I' is wha' i' is, and yeh two helped me realize something, Hermione," said Hagrid as he stacked up the niffler cages against the wall of his cabin. "And tha' is tha' they're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."
And that is what Hermione promised to Harry is exactly what she would do with all the letters that they both knew would continue coming for the near future as they walked up to the Great Hall for lunch.
But no sooner had they sat down to eat, than Ron thudded into the seat across from them, looking thoroughly put out.
"Why didn't you tell me about the gold?" he demanded.
"What gold?" asked Harry in confusion. He couldn't remember ever talking about gold with the redhead.
"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"
It still took Harry several seconds to remember what on earth Ron was talking about.
"Oh. Um…because I completely forgot about it?" replied Harry when he finally did. "In case you forgot, there was a Quidditch World Cup match, I lost my wand, and then someone let off Voldemort's mark with my wand. Gold, or lack thereof, was pretty low on my list of concerns that night."
After wincing at Voldemort's name like always, Ron growled, "Must be nice — to have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."
Harry just rolled his eyes, knowing nothing he could say would make Ron any less jealous or understand that Harry would much rather be poor with his parents than rich without them.
After a while, Ron muttered as much to himself as to Harry, "I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes. I thought I was paying you back. I hate being poor."
"Forget it — seriously," said Harry. "It was a gift — gifts aren't meant to be paid back, anyway. They're gifts."
Ron continued to mutter to himself throughout the rest of lunch, but Harry and Hermione just tuned his whining out, Hermione telling Harry everything Madam Pomfrey had done to get her hands back to the reasonably usable condition they were currently in.
Hate mail, probably including more bioterrorism, continued arriving for Hermione over the next few weeks, but good to her promise to Harry, she gathered it all up each morning and threw it all in a fire as soon as she had the chance each day. But many of her haters had upgraded from regular hate mail to Howlers, which screamed their displeasure for the entire Hall to hear — not that everyone in the castle hadn't already heard the contents of the article from the Slytherins screaming their own heads off about it to everyone interested in hearing or not, so it didn't really make any difference.
It took all of two days for Harry and Hermione to get sick and tired of having to tell people that no, Hermione was not in fact assaulting and kidnapping him by making him infatuated with her using a love potion (though oddly enough, no one except the muggleborns actually seemed to realize that it would be assault and mental kidnapping if she really was using a love potion), and that no, he had no romantic interest in Fleur whatsoever, no matter how pretty he did think she was, and how much time he and Hermione spent hanging out with her now that they'd become friends after he'd saved her younger sister's life in the second task.
"Not that you'd actually know that if I really was love potioning you, as the love potion would make you think you really did only have feelings for me and not for Fleur who you really had feelings for," commented Hermione to Harry one evening towards the end of the first week as they sat in front of fire on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. "That's the pure evil of love potions, and why it's completely despicable that they aren't entirely banned from any use, ever, by anyone — the only way for a victim to realize they have been kidnapped and are being raped is to stop being given the love potion, or else to be given a bad batch that doesn't work properly. It's essentially the perfect crime if you can keep it up — and people like Mrs Weasley and Ginny giggle about Mrs Weasley having made it when she was a young girl."
The one good thing about the article, however, was that it gave Harry and Hermione something to joke about when they hung out with Fleur. The veela loved teasing Harry about supposedly being madly head over heels in love with her but unable to express it because he was being potioned by Hermione, something Hermione had no hesitation in encouraging when they were together. Additionally, since no one actually really knew the Beauxbatons, and she was a champion and veela on top of that, no one bothered her about the rumor that Harry really loved her, so she didn't have to suffer the abuse of anyone inside or outside the castle like Hermione did.
Eventually, people finally got bored with the whole story, both adult haters outside the castle and fellow students inside, until like every other story that had ever been told and rumor that had ever been spread about Harry, this article faded into the background as well, and Harry and Hermione's lives returned to as normal as they ever were at Hogwarts.
~HP~
But Rita's article did still have one last act of vengeance to try to inflict on Hermione at Easter.
Towards the end of the Easter holiday, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast, when they saw a large package being delivered by Errol to Ron where he sat a little bit down the table from them. As they watched him open it, they saw him pull out three chocolate eggs: two the size of dragon eggs and no doubt filled with homemade sweets like past years, and one smaller than a chicken egg.
He also pulled out a letter from inside the package that he quickly read over, before he stuffed it back in the wrappings, mumble something to himself that sounded to Harry and Hermione a lot like, "What they don't know won't hurt them."
"That seems like a lot of candy for one person, even if it is Mrs Weasley giving it to her son," commented Harry as he watched Ron hurriedly stuff the eggs in his bag.
"Based on what he just said, I'm guessing the other big one was supposed to be for you, and the tiny one for me," replied Hermione.
"Why wouldn't she give you one the same size as me, if she's giving either of us one at all?" asked Harry, confused. "And also, why would she be sending us anything since we're no longer friends with Ron?"
"Because she read the Witch Weekly article about me dating you, and the completely unsubstantiated claims that I'm poisoning you to do so," answered Hermione. "Remember what Ron said right after Christmas, about her wanting you for Ginny and me for Ron? You and I dating completely fouls up both of those plans. As for sending us anything at all, she probably still assumes we're friends with Ron — as I doubt Ron told her he's failed in his mission to befriend you, Ginny isn't going to admit that her only real connection to you — Ron's friendship — is gone, and the twins are smart enough to know to let their mum believe whatever she wants to believe."
"Oh. Okay, that all makes sense," replied Harry. "But shouldn't she at least give you a few points for the rumor that you're using a love potion to do so, when she made them herself as a girl?"
Hermione let out a wry chuckle. "Love potions are fine for her, and maybe Ginny to use — but certainly not for any girl taking her poor Harry away from her, or for any guy using the love potion on Ginny to take her poor Ginny away from her. Bluntly put, she's a giant hypocrite — like saying she's all for muggleborns and disagrees with other pureblood families that are anti-muggleborn, while still hating werewolves and part-giants and cross-species like that. Rules for thee, not for me."
Chapter 19
At the end of Transfiguration class on the twenty-seventh of May, Professor McGonagall held Harry back to let him know that the champions were expected on the Quidditch pitch that evening at nine.
So at a quarter till, Harry and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, hoping Filch or Snape wouldn't try to give them detention when they walked back up to their common room inevitably afternine o'clock curfew on their way back from this meeting of champions and Harry, and made their way down to the pitch. Where they discovered that the normally smooth grass was covered in hedges crisscrossing in every direction. They made their way to the very center, hopping over hedges, to where the other champions and Ludo Bagman stood — not for the first time, Harry wondered if the others were always given times fifteen or thirty minutes before the time he was told to be there, or if they were all just really, really early arrivers for everything. As he and Hermione climbed over the last hedge and joined the group, Fleur hurried over to meet them and gave him a quick, tight hug, still beyond thankful for Harry having saved her sister in the previous task. Letting Harry go, she gave Hermione a quick hug as well, before all three of them walked back over to where Bagman and the others were standing.
As Bagman looked up at the sound of their arrival, he said in surprise, "Oh. Hi, Hermione — didn't expect to see you here." But before Harry or Hermione could say anything or defend her presence, he continued on, clearly unperturbed by her presence.
"Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?" he asked, looking around at the three champions and Harry (and Hermione) assembled around him.
When the champions merely stared at each other and the hedges for several long seconds, clueless, Hermione finally burst out, "It's a maze, you idiots!"
"Oh, yeah, so it is," mumbled the four competitors embarrassedly, looking around at what was now very obviously a maze.
Continuing on brightly as if the competitors had immediately recognized what was so very obviously to the most casual observer a maze, Bagman said, "That's right! A maze! By the time of the third task, four weeks from today exactly, these hedges will be twenty feet tall. So the third task is really very straightforward — the TriWizard Cup will be placed in the very center of the maze, and the first champion to touch it will win."
"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" asked Fleur suspiciously. After the first two tasks, that seemed far too simple.
"There will be obstacles," answered Bagman mischievously, bouncing on the balls of his feet with a glint in his eyes, like a predator playing with its prey. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures...then there will be spells that must be broken...all that sort of thing, you know."
"Oh…" the five students let out in a collective sigh of understanding.
The three Hogwartians knew firsthand the types of creatures Hagrid could provide, and even the two guests had heard enough stories over their seven months in the castle to know these would be no ordinary, fluffy house pets they would have to be getting past. And after seven and four years of magical education, they all knew the plethora of highly dangerous spells and enchantments that could be cast to hinder their progress through the labyrinth. And simply knowing magic itself, the maze was unlikely to be the simple, straightforward kind of mazes muggles thought of when they heard the word 'maze' — all one had to do was look at the staircases and secret passageways of Hogwarts Castle itself to know nothing would be as it seemed.
"Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze," continued Bagman, grinning at Harry and Cedric. "Then Mr. Krum will enter...then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
The three champions and Harry all politely nodded, each secretly doubting 'fun' was going to be the word they would use to describe the task when they finally finished. The three boys were also giving the hedges malicious looks, affronted by the unruly state of the Quidditch pitch.
Seeing their looks, Bagman quickly added, "Don't worry boys, your Quidditch pitch will be back to perfection as soon as the tournament is over," causing both girls to roll their eyes at the boys for not knowing that a former Quidditch star himself would never allow a Quidditch pitch to remain in such a disrespectful state of disarray.
"Very well…" said Bagman after several more seconds. "If none of you have any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we — it's getting a bit chilly..."
Everyone nodded their hurried agreement, it still being rather cold for late May, and quickly turned to exit the maze, each heading back towards their respective domiciles. Walking hand in hand as they jumped over the hedges, Harry and Hermione discussed everything Bagman had told them, and what spells he would need to learn and practice to best be prepared for this third and final challenge.
As Krum headed off towards the Black Lake and the Durmstrang ship, and Fleur walked towards the Beauxbatons Carriage, Bagman hurried up alongside Harry and Hermione.
"How you feeling Harry?" he asked quietly as he caught up with them. "I can't tell you any of the creature or spells you'll have to face — I don't know most of them myself — but I'd be glad to give you some spells that might be helpful to learn if you'd like. Spells most seventh years would have already learned that maybe as a fourth year you haven't ran across yet," he added on quickly at the end to make it seem less like he was trying to help Harry cheat, and more like he was just trying to even the playing field for him.
"Hermione's practically a walking library, well advanced beyond our grade when it comes to the spells she knows, and the most powerful witch I've ever met — if anyone can get me well prepared for this task, it's my girlfriend," answered Harry politely as they continued up towards the castle, wondering yet again why Bagman was so keen on trying to get him to win.
"Oh —" said Bagman, taken aback by Harry's directness and confidence. "Well, um…I guess you're all ready, then, aren't you?"
"I sure am," replied Harry, before squeezing Hermione's hand slightly in his and quickening their pace, leaving Bagman behind still staring at them in surprise.
Monday afternoon, Harry was dozing off in another sweltering, mind-numbing Divination class, when he suddenly woke up screaming on the floor.
He'd just had a most vivid dream, and his scar was hurting like his skull was about to split in half. After shaking off Trelawney's attempts to make him stay to see further, insisting that he needed to go to the hospital wing, he immediately headed straight towards Dumbledore's office, just like Hermione had told him to at the end of the previous summer when he'd finally told her about the morning over the summer that he'd woken up with his scar hurting again.
Arriving outside the stone gargoyle, he remembered that he didn't know the password. But knowing that it had always been sweets in the past, he began trying every wizarding candy he could think of, until finally as a joke he said, "cockroach cluster", and the gargoyle sprung to the side for him. Knocking on the oak door at the top of the spiraling staircase, he heard Dumbledore bid him enter.
"What can I do for you, Harry?" the Headmaster asked once Harry had entered and closed the door behind him.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, and Fawkes was perched like normal on his stand, the large office otherwise empty.
"Well, I just had a really vivid dream, Sir, that made me wake up with my scar hurting, and Hermione told me that if my scar ever hurt again, I should come to you," answered Harry.
"Please — tell me everything from the very beginning," said Dumbledore gravely, motioning for Harry to take the seat across from him.
"I was in Divination just now, and — er — I fell asleep," began Harry, pausing for a moment as he wondered if a reprimand was coming his way for falling asleep in class.
But Dumbledore merely nodded and said, "Quite understandable. Continue," making Harry smile very slightly.
"Well, I dreamt that Lord Voldemort was torturing Wormtail. Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake — there was a snake beside his chair. He said — he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail — and my scar hurt. It woke me up, it hurt so badly."
As Dumbledore said nothing for several seconds after he had finished speaking, Harry finally said, "And that's all. I immediately came here."
"I see," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"
"No, I — How did you know it woke me up over the summer?" asked Harry in confusion — the only people he had told about his scar hurting was Hermione, Ron, and Sirius.
"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," replied Dumbledore. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay."
Dumbledore got up and walked over to the black cabinet on the other side of the room and opened it. From inside, he pulled out a shallow stone basin, and carried it over to his desk.
As Harry stared at the silvery light contained inside the basin that he'd never seen the likes of before, Dumbledore said, "This is a pensieve. I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."
"Okay…" said Harry slowly, still having no clue what a pensieve was.
"At these times, I use the pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."
"You mean...that stuff's your thoughts?" replied Harry, finally beginning to get some understanding of what a pensieve was, despite the headmaster's very roundabout and vague way of explaining it.
"Certainly," said Dumbledore, like that was exactly what he'd been saying all along. As he drew his wand out from inside his robes, he continued, "Let me show you."
Placing the tip of his wand into his own silvery hair, near his temple, he slowly pulled it back. For a second it looked to Harry as though some of his hair were clinging to it, until Harry suddenly realized that it was actually a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the pensieve. When Dumbledore added the strand to the rest of the swirling mass inside the stone basin, Harry saw his own face appear on the surface of substance. But a second later, Dumbledore reached down and swirled the contents of the basin with his wand, and Snape's face smoothly replaced Harry's.
This new face then said in a slightly echoey voice, "It's coming back...Karkaroff's too...stronger and clearer than ever…."
"A connection I could have made without assistance, but never mind," sighed Dumbledore, as Harry wondered if this had anything to do with whatever he and Hermione had seen Karkaroff showing Snape on his inner forearm at the end of Potions class nearly three months earlier.
Dumbledore added several more thoughts to his pensieve, before sitting back down behind his desk and looking across at Harry once more, studying him.
"Professor — do you know why my scar is hurting me?" Harry asked now that Dumbledore's attention was back on him.
"I have a theory, no more than that…" answered Dumbledore slowly. "It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."
"But...why?"
"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," answered Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."
"So you think...that dream...did it really happen?"
"I can only guess, but I would say it's probable," answered Dumbledore, before asking, "Harry — did you see Voldemort?"
"No, just the back of his chair," answered Harry. "But there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he?" before realizing something and adding slowly as much to himself as Dumbldore, "But...but then how could he have held the wand?"
"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore, lost in thought. "How indeed…?"
Neither of them spoke again for a long time, the Headmaster occasionally pulling more strands of memory from his mind as they both sat there thinking over everything Harry had seen in his dream, until Harry finally asked, "Professor — do you think he's getting stronger?"
"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking up at Harry and sighing. "Once again, Harry, I can only give you my suspicions. The years of Voldemort's ascent to power were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. And there has been a second disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends. These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry unfortunately disagrees."
This time when silence fell over them again, Harry felt as though it was time for him to leave. He'd told the Headmaster of his dream, and learned a few things about Voldemort and his possible return in the process, and there was really nothing left for him to ask and Dumbledore didn't seem interested in telling him anything more, and his stomach was beginning to grumble for supper.
So after a few more seconds, he finally said awkwardly, "I, uh — I should probably go."
Dumbledore looked back up at him from where he'd been staring unseeing into the pensieve, and said, "Thank you for bringing your dream and scar hurting to me, Harry."
As they both stood up and Harry headed towards the door, Dumbledore added quietly, "And Harry — good luck with the third task."
Chapter 20
Over the four weeks between being told that the final task would be an obstacle maze, and the day of the task itself, Harry and Hermione spent all their free time practicing spells Harry might need to get through the maze.
When they had first been thinking about a place to practice at breakfast the morning after Bagman informed them of the maze, Harry had suggested they find the unused classroom he'd stumbled across the Mirror of Erised in three and half years before. Hermione readily agreed, and when they walked into it later that afternoon after their final class of the day was over, they found it looking almost exactly as Harry had discovered it first year — the only thing missing was the mirror. The desks and chairs were still piled against the walls, the wastepaper basket by the teacher's desk was still upturned, and it still had the layer of dust covering everything that it had had before, if not just a little bit thicker after another three and a half years of unuse.
So every spare moment they had long enough to practice, they headed there, a private, secluded location where no one would walk in on them.
Due to all the time they spent practicing, and the fact final exams were coming up the week leading up to the third task, as the first day of exams approached Harry began feeling more and more guilty about all the studying time of Hermione's he was taking up. So he tried to tell her repeatedly that he could practice on his own some, that she had exams to study for that he didn't, but she wasn't having any of it.
"Harry! Honestly! I could probably pass my OWLs in every important subject right now if they'd let me — I'm not worried about passing fourth years!" she finally burst out after the dozenth time he told her he could practice alone if she wanted to go study, glaring at him and almost seeming actually angry with him.
Harry wisely refrained from mentioning it again.
So by the time the day of the final task arrived, Harry felt as confident as he felt he ever could going into a still mostly unknown task. He felt like he'd learned half the library, and just hoped he could still remember it all when he got into the maze, and didn't panic and forget everything Hermione had taught him over the past month.
~HP~
At breakfast the morning of the final task, Harry was debating piling a second round of sausages onto his plate to eat, when Hermione opened her daily copy of the Daily Prophet and almost immediately choked on the swig of pumpkin juice she'd just taken.
"You okay?" asked Harry concernedly, patting his girlfriend on the back.
"Rita again," choked out Hermione once she'd mostly caught her breath, spreading the front page of the newspaper out in front of them so he could read the witch's latest story with her.
She had barely even made it to the end of the first paragraph, when she had to grouse, "Funny for her to talk about suitability of you competing when A, it's a supposedly unbiased magical artifact that chooses the champions, not any person or persons, and B, your suitability is technically zero, given the fact you're underaged and shouldn't have been in the goblet to begin with."
"Given how many rules we've broken in the four years we've been here, it's also definitely arguable that neither of us are suitable for attending Hogwarts period, regardless of what evidence she has," smirked back Harry.
Hermione rolled her eyes, replying, "But we're a witch and wizard, which makes us completely suitable for attending a school of witchcraft and wizardry, which is what concerns her and any journalistic integrity she might pretend she still has.
"And...then she immediately throws integrity out the window with two bold-faced lies," continued Hermione reading the next sentence. "Because unless I'm forgetting something or you failed to tell me something, a month ago in Divination was the first time you've ever collapsed because of your scar. And you never complain to anyone about it hurting."
"Dementors, last year," answered Harry glumly. "Wasn't because of my scar, but I did collapse on the train, and in one Quidditch match."
"Oh…yeah — forgot about that, but Draco certainly wouldn't have," replied Hermione with a sigh. "Not really sure three incidents counts as 'regularly', though."
"Oh, I highly doubt Draco said three — having told her the word 'regularly' sounds a lot more like him," said Harry, before adding, "And speak of the devil — right on time."
For at that moment, none other than Draco himself had shouted out across the hall, "Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"
"Nope — just on you. Everyone else is safe," shouted Harry right back, before looking back down at the newspaper to continue reading, catching the grin on Hermione's face out of the corner of his eye.
He grinned back only for a second though, as Hermione soon asked, "But how could he have told her about you collapsing in Divination, as he wasn't anywhere near there? Also, either she's lying again or this was meant to come out some two weeks ago, as it's been three and a half weeks since that class, since it was the Monday after we were told about the maze, which is certainly not 'Monday last' as she wrote."
"Maybe someone in class told someone else what happened, and he overheard them," answered Harry dully. "It's not like anyone's afraid to share rumors about me around here. And I never claimed my 'scar was hurting too badly to continue studying', I simply said I needed to go to the hospital wing because of a bad headache — though I guess after clutching my scar as I woke, it wouldn't be hard to make the leap to it being my scar that was causing the headache, and I did leave class so technically I guess my headache was 'hurting too badly to continue studying', so I guess she's actually journalistically okay on that one."
"Except you clearly weren't studying, you were dozing off. So if anything, she should have said your 'scar was hurting too badly to go back to sleep for the rest of class'," smirked Hermione. "But fair point about Draco hearing it from someone else telling someone else telling someone else."
They continued reading on, occasionally muttering to themselves about something else ludicrous Rita wrote, until a few paragraphs later they ran upon the section about Harry being a parseltongue.
"Well, duh! he concealed from the public that you're a parseltongue!" burst out Hermione. "Because this is how you react when you do find out! No child deserves the bigotry and abuse the entire wizarding community would rain down on them because of something they were born with and had no control over having! It's the exact same as Hagrid, and Dumbledore never sharing that Hagrid is half-giant — we all saw how that turned out for him!"
"I really am kind of surprised that no one outside of the castle ever heard about me being a parseltongue, though," commented Harry thoughtfully. "Did none of the students write letters to their mums, who then gossiped about it to their neighbors, and so on and so forth until the entire wizarding world knew? I guess Dumbledore really did hush it all up somehow if this is as big of news as Rita clearly thinks it is."
"I don't know," replied Hermione with a shake of her head. "But it does almost seem like absolutely nothing gets out of the impenetrable walls of this castle sometimes. I hate to be conspiratorial, especially about the side we consider to be the better side, but does Dumbledore have someone checking owls to make sure nothing he doesn't want to get out about what occurs inside the castle does? I'd hate to think that that could be true, and we aren't in the wizarding world at large to actually know what is and isn't known, but there does seem to be a lot that occurs within these walls that should be common knowledge and even investigated by the Aurors, that never is.
"The one thing I do know, though," Hermione continued on with the article, "is the fact that Draco highly stylized his recounting of the dueling club incident. But as for making friends with werewolves and giants, Hagrid's only a half-giant, she's the one who let that cat out of the bag, and from everything I heard, three-quarters of the school loved Lupin — everyone except the Slytherins, basically. And similarly, Hagrid is well-known and liked by a lot of adults who've come through Hogwarts over the past half-century, and students here now — so neither of those friendships are in the least uncommon.
"And then of course there's the fact that actually investigating any wizard capable of parseltongue purely because of that is a basic human rights violation — just replace 'parseltongue' with 'black skin color', and watch the fireworks fly. When in reality, they're the same exact thing — traits you are born with that you had no control over and can't do anything about. So while an investigation into youwould probably be a great thing, as they'd discover your abusive relatives and maybe actually do something about it, which could help you, if they did investigate you because you can speak parseltongue there is no logical reason they couldn't go on to investigate someone simply because they have a certain skin color, or hair color, or are a certain sex. All of which would be human rights violations."
" 'Serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic' — aren't wands, cauldrons, and robes, as well?" asked Harry rhetorically, reading on. "I'd guess everything is used in some kind of dark magic or another, and lots of things used in 'good' magic are also frequently used in dark magic. It's all magic — it's got to use most of the same stuff, there's only so much magical stuff in existence to be used."
"And most so-called 'dark magic' has completely good uses as well if you wanted to use them for that," added Hermione. "Dark versus light or good magic, is all about semantics and trying to make the magic you use sound acceptable while the magic your enemy uses sound bad and evil, when in reality it's all in how you use it. Dark magic can be used for good just as 'light' magic can be used to murder. Almost all magic we learn here at Hogwarts, if applied in specific ways, could murder or torture people — but Wingardium Leviosa and forgetfulness potion are still taught to first years at a school known as a 'good' school."
"Good point," agreed Harry, before literally laughing out loud as he continued to read on. " 'Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the TriWizard Tournament' — isn't that exactly what he did when my name came out? Or — at least the other two headmasters and Snape certainly did. And it was Mr Crouch who said I had to compete because my name had come out and it was a binding magical contract, not Dumbledore. Doesn't seem like all the considering in the world could change the fact I had to compete. There's certainly lots of times I'd have willing given up and stopped competing if I could — hell, I would right now if that was actually an option. Not have to try to make it through a dangerous maze and just get to watch the three champions do it? — Sign me up."
Hermione laughed with him, before chuckling, "Just don't resort to using all those dark arts your muggle relatives and Hogwarts have taught you in an attempt to win since you still do have to compete. I mean, we all know you'd do anything for a bit of power — or so Draco says, despite the fact it kind of seems like you're the most powerless wizard here, between having to live with your abusive relatives in the summer, Mrs Weasley trying to stick you with her daughter without your consent, and just the general amount that absolutely everything bad that occurs in this castle seems to happen to you."
Shaking their heads at Rita's latest propaganda, Hermione folded up the newspaper and stuffed it into her bag, knowing nothing else in there could be all that bad after that cover article, as Harry decided he really did want that second round of sausages now, and piled them onto his plate and began eating them.
~HP~
As the end of breakfast neared, and with it the time for Harry and Hermione to head up to Binn's classroom for the final day of exams to begin (for Hermione, at least — Harry had been spending all his time exempt from exams sitting in the back of class reviewing spells for the tournament), Professor McGonagall walked up to them.
"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she told him curtly.
"Uh…why?" asked Harry, confused. "The task isn't until tonight, and we already know what it is — what more instructions could Bagman or Crouch have to give us?"
"The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them," answered their Head of House sternly, immediately walking away before Harry could ask any more questions, like the obvious, 'And you think the Dursleys came?'
But since he couldn't ask that as she was no longer there to ask, Harry turned to Hermione and asked instead, "Did you know that? Because I certainly didn't."
"Nope," answered Hermione, shaking her head. "I never read anything about the champions' families coming to watch the final task, and I never heard anything said, either — and I've been with you every time the judges told you anything about the tournament since right before the first task, so unless they told you before that, I'd have heard it there, too, if anyone actually told you."
"Well, girlfriend, want to come with me to see who McGonagall thinks qualifies as my family, since we both know the muggle Dursleys were neither invited, nor would they have come had they been, yet McGonagall obviously thinks there's someone in there for me?" asked Harry. "It can't be your parents, could it? We are dating after all, surely that news has reached the ears of the professors by now…."
"Of course I'll come with, boyfriend," replied Hermione, taking his hand in hers. "And I'm almost positive it's not my parents, or they would have told me. Plus, like you said with the Dursleys, they're muggles — no way they got an invite."
They got up and leisurely walked over to the door leading into the side chamber. But as they approached the door, a thought suddenly entered Hermione's mind, and she held Harry back. Peeking her head around the corner into the room, she quickly pulled it back.
"As it just dawned on me — it's Mrs Weasley and Bill," said Hermione quietly.
Harry looked at her in surprise. "But why?" he asked. "They're not my family like Professor McGonagall said, and we're not even friends with Ron anymore."
"I hate to be conspiratorial, but maybe Mrs Weasley's plans for pairing off her youngest two runs deeper than just in her family," answered Hermione with a shrug. "But that's just a possible theory, certainly not supported by anything we actually know."
"So what do we do now?" asked Harry.
"Well…that's entirely up to you, of course — whether you want to go in there and talk to her and Bill, or not," answered Hermione slowly. She knew what she'd prefer he do, what she'd certainly do if it were her, but this was his decision not hers, and she wasn't going to try to sway him one direction or the other.
"Not particularly," answered Harry. "And especially not if everything Ron said at Christmas about her trying to put me with Ginny and you with Ron are true. And I haven't forgotten about the tiny Easter egg she sent you, either."
"Well, technically we're still only guessing about that one, but I understand what you mean," said Hermione. "Now as for what you do, if you're serious about not meeting her — or at least not now, as I'm sure she'll track us down at lunch or dinner which we can't avoid — then I suggest continuing with the original plan of sitting in the back of class studying for tonight, while I regurgitate magical history that has nothing to do with Voldemort or any of the other problems currently facing the wizarding community, which we could actually learn from in order not to repeat the mistakes of our forefathers."
So Harry and Hermione turned from the chamber door and headed back out through the Great Hall, and up to the History of Magic classroom.
Chapter 21
As Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall a few hours later for lunch, they found the twins' mother already sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring straight at the door.
"Looks like no way around this, she's already seen us," muttered Hermione under her breath to Harry as they continued on towards the table. "Might as well pick seats nearby enough for her to talk to us, or she'll just move to wherever we sit."
Harry nodded, so Hermione led them to seats several down from Mrs Weasley and Bill to force some space and people between them, but not so far Mrs Weasley could justify moving right next to them.
As soon as they sat down, Mrs Weasley said overly brightly, "Surprise! Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry!" Then turning towards Hermione, she added stiffly, with a cold expression suddenly on her face, "Hello, Hermione."
"Oh, for God's sake, woman!" exclaimed Hermione irritatedly. "After lashing out at Percy about how Rita is wretched, and not to blame Mr Weasley for what she wrote back at the end of summer after the Quidditch World Cup, now you're suddenly going to start believing her?!"
"So you're not dating Harry?" replied the Matriarch cooly, as if she didn't believe the muggleborn.
"No…I'm not using any love potions," answered Hermione. "I'm a muggle — I know what rape is, and what date rape drugs are. I would never make a love potion even if my life depended on it, unlike certain people at this table." Here she glared hard at the Matriarch. "As for whether I'm dating Harry or not, first off it's absolutely none of your business as you are neither of our families, but yes — I am absolutely dating Harry Potter, and have been ever since the Yule Ball he invited me to go with him to. And neither of us care about your opinion of it, so you can just shove it."
Mrs Weasley looked taken aback at being addressed so forcefully, before assuming a highly affronted look.
So before a full on cat fight could break out (not that he had any doubt Hermione would win so long as none of the professors interfered, he just didn't trust them not to interfere and they would indubitably side with Mrs Weasley without hearing any of the argument first), Harry looked at Bill and said more loudly than normal, "Hi, Bill. How are you?"
"I'm great," answered Bill, sensing Harry's objective and following along. "Charlie said you were incredible against the Horntail. Wish I could have seen it myself."
"Just glad I survived," answered Harry, before turning to Hermione and asking, "So how did the exam go?"
Hermione immediately launched into a thorough tale of everything on the test, easily taking up the rest of the lunch period so Mrs Weasley couldn't try to mollycoddle Harry like normal, and he didn't have to suffer through trying to politely talk with her.
But when Hermione stood up to head to her afternoon exam, and Harry stood up with her, trouble started again.
"Harry, dear, since you're exempt from exams, we thought you could show us over the grounds," said Mrs Weasley brightly, not even bothering to try to frame it as a question, asking if he'd like to show them around.
"I've been using the exams to study for tonight's task," replied Harry politely, but firmly. "I'm exempt from exams expressly so I can prepare for this task — I'm not going to waste that time I've been given. So if you'll excuse us, we have an exam to be attending."
And with that he turned and led the way out of the Great Hall, leaving a gaping Mrs Weasley staring after him and Hermione, unable to comprehend how Harry might prefer preparing himself for the highly dangerous task that lay before him that night, instead of purposelessly walking around the grounds he walked every day.
Once outside the Great Hall and down a secret corridor that was a shortcut to the last exam of the year, Hermione spun Harry back against the wall and kissed him soundly.
When they broke apart, Harry looked at her in surprise and confusion, asking, "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining, of course."
"For handling Mrs Weasley so well back there, and putting her in her place about wasting the day instead of getting ready for what should theoretically be the hardest of the three tasks since it's the last and certainly the most important. You were so very articulate, I almost thought I was listening to myself for a second there," answered Hermione with a smile, before adding with a smirk, "And just because I can."
"Never a bad reason in my opinion," replied Harry with a smirk of his own, before saying, "But perhaps you should wait until later for the next round so we're not late for the exam."
~HP~
Hermione had hoped to entirely avoid Mrs Weasley at supper that night, but when the evening feast came and she noticed that not only was Mr Crouch absent yet again, but that it was Cornelius Fudge himself who was replacing him instead of Percy like at the Yule Ball and second task, she was too curious not to try to find out what was going on.
So she compromised and asked Bill, "Where's Mr Crouch, and why is the Minister replacing him instead of Percy like the last two times?"
But it was still Mrs Weasley who answered. "Mr Crouch hasn't been seen since before Christmas, so Percy's been called in to discuss the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in to him for the past seven or eight months. And apparently someone thinks there's a chance the instructions weren't genuinely written by Mr Crouch, so they're not letting Percy fill in as the fifth judge tonight like normal. Cornelius Fudge is doing it instead."
"What is it with the Ministry taking forever to care that people are missing?" muttered Hermione mostly to herself, shaking her head. "It took months before anyone started looking for Bertha Jorkins, and now over half a year before anyone thinks it's strange enough that the Head of a Department hasn't been into the office a single time to bother looking into it."
But it did give her something to think about. Mr Crouch had been missing since before Christmas, which when combined with Bertha Jorkins and the muggle Harry had told her Dumbledore had mentioned when he went to the headmaster with his dream, made three missing people in a year already containing the Dark Mark for the first time in thirteen years. Plus there were the two highly detailed dreams Harry'd had showing that Voldemort was alive and kicking and growing in power. But all that was for another time, as her only concern at the moment was for Harry, and his survival through the final task.
It was the last chance for whoever had entered his name to do whatever they'd entered his name for, and it looked to be the perfect opportunity, as the inside of the maze was going to be completely hidden from the view of everyone except Mad-Eye and his magical eye. But she kept these worries to herself, knowing Harry would already be on his utmost guard simply to survive the spells and creatures inside the maze, so there was no point in scaring him or worrying him further by telling him her own fears.
However, when Dumbledore called for the four champions to follow Bagman down to the stadium at the end of supper, Hermione did stand up with him and join him on the walk down to the Quidditch pitch, running over all the spells they'd been practicing for the last four weeks with him, trying to reassure him and help him be less nervous, and do the same for herself.
Arriving at the stadium entrance, Hermione pulled him slightly off to the side and gave him a passionate kiss, trying not to think that there was the very real possibility that this could be the last time she ever saw him if the worst were to occur.
When they broke apart, Harry took her hand and squeezed it tightly, saying as reassuringly as he could, "See you on the other side, Hermione."
Then they parted ways, Harry onto the field and Hermione into the front row of the stands, trying to blink back the tears threatening to escape the corners of her eyes.
Chapter 22
Hermione watched Harry disappear into the maze — all she could do now was pray.
The following two hours were the longest of her life, having no clue what was going on in the maze before her. Fifteen minutes after Bagman first blew his whistle to start Harry and Cedric, she saw Mad-Eye apparate out of the maze carrying Fleur to the medical tent, despite having seen no red sparks sent up. Looking back on the night later on, she supposed she should have realized then that something odd was going on, but at the time she merely brushed it off as either she hadn't been paying attention when Fleur sent them up, or else some part of the magic of the maze made it so that only the patrollers could see the sparks.
But twenty minutes or so later disproved that theory, even though she didn't consciously think of it at the time, as she did see red sparks coming up from out of the maze, and less than a minute later saw Professor Flitwick appear levitating Krum, who looked like he'd been stupefied. Hermione briefly wondered if a certain section of the maze shot spells at the contestants who went through that section, and was thankful she'd taught and perfected the shield charm with Harry, so he would be able to deflect any such spells the maze tried throwing at him.
But after that, there was nothing.
Finally, after what felt like hours and hours, though in reality was only about an hour and a half later, there appeared a blue light at the edge of the maze close to where Hermione was sitting in the stands, and two figures suddenly slammed into the ground. The person clutching onto the TriWizard Cup with one hand and onto the other person with their other hand had landed face first against the ground, while the other person lay spread-eagle on his back, just looking wrong.
Sheer panic filled Hermione for a split second, as she had no clue who the two people were, whether one of them was Harry or not, and whether her boyfriend was alive and well and safe, or missing, kidnapped, injured, or even dead. But then she recognized the shaggy mane of raven hair that he'd insisted on letting grow out into a mess that year as the person laying face first on the grass, and a second later that the figure on his back looking completely wrong was Cedric Diggory, and half of her panic disappeared as she at least knew where Harry was, even if she didn't yet know how he was.
Instantly upon recognizing Harry, she without thought hurdled over the railing down onto the pitch, and ran towards him, her heart pounding. Given the fact he was holding onto the TriWizard Cup and Cedric's arm she thought he was at least alive, but something was definitely still wrong. Despite holding the TriWizard Cup, he certainly didn't look like he'd just won, or even lost, and why was Dumbledore and the other professors running towards Harry nearly as fast as she was?
Collapsing to her knees next to her boyfriend, she was completely oblivious to the gasp, and then deafening noise the crowd made behind her, barely even conscious of the fact Dumbledore had arrived at the same moment she had, and was also crouching over him.
But as her hand landed on Harry's back, she let out a small sigh of relief — he was at least breathing, she could feel his back rising and falling slightly with each heavy breath he took.
~HP~
The world came crashing back around him, and he struggled to hold on.
He'd landed somewhere on grass, because his face was pressed flat against it, and he still had the TriWizard Cup and Cedric's body because he could feel his hands clutching both, but that was all he knew. The ground beneath him felt like it was tossing and rolling like the deck of a ship, so he clutched a little tighter to the two objects he was holding onto to try to keep himself steady, and from passing out from the darkness trying to push in at the edges of his mind.
He vaguely recognized loud noises and screams and footsteps all around him, but was too exhausted and in too great a state of shock at the moment to try to figure out what they meant or where they were coming from. All he knew was that everything around him seemed like a nightmare.
The only relief he had, the only thing that kept him from completely losing his tenuous grip he still had on reality, was that the quiet, logical part of his brain, that sounded most similar to a certain bushy-haired girl he knew, reassured him that he was finally safe. He didn't know how he knew it, how the part of his brain that had sounded like his now girlfriend for years knew it, but he somehow knew he was no longer in danger from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and was somewhere that could more or less be considered safe, somewhere where he had at least a temporary reprieve from trying to be killed.
Through the haze his mind was in at the moment, he felt a small and somehow familiar hand rest on his back, and then shortly after a different pair of hands, a strong, yet still somehow comforting pair of hands roughly flip him over, but he didn't fear that they were going to hurt him — or maybe he was just too exhausted to care anymore. He also felt the hand that had been on his back become two hands clutching at his arm, and he finally opened his eyes to find his girlfriend and Dumbledore staring down at him from the starry sky above. As soon as he recognized Hermione, his rock through everything he'd ever gone through since starting Hogwarts, he immediately dropped the TriWizard Cup he'd still been clinging onto with his life and grabbed her arm instead, clinging to her to keep him steady and safe once again. He used the strength that seemed to flow from Hermione through him to try to steady his scattered thoughts slightly, and tell Dumbledore what had happened.
~HP~
Clutching Harry was all she could do, as she felt a wave of terror pass through her as the reality of Diggory's dead body next to them finally hit her. Whatever had happened, it could have happened to Harry, and she could have lost him forever. But it hadn't, and she tried to remind herself of this as she clung to him like her life depended on it, just barely registering that he had grabbed hold of her as well.
As her boyfriend tried to explain to Dumbledore — and now Fudge and everyone else who was pushing and shoving around her — what had happened, and the crowds now surging around them became louder and more frantic and harried, she continued to just cling to him, unable to take in any of what he was saying to the Headmaster, but needing to reassure herself that he was still alive, still there — and hopefully doing the same for him.
But far too soon, Dumbledore had lifted Harry to his feet and out of her grasp, and someone else was pulling him away through the crowds, and she was left sitting there on her knees weeping silently alone, as the crowds continued to push and shove and gasp and shout all around her, paying her no attention.
~HP~
He felt someone dragging him off towards the castle, pushing their way through the crowds. He tried telling whoever it was that Dumbledore had told him to stay, but they paid no attention to him, and he was too weak to do anything but be pulled along with them. They slowly crossed the grounds back up to the castle together, but it wasn't until he heard the clunk of a wooden leg on the stone steps leading into the castle that he realized it was Mad-Eye.
Then Mad-Eye was asking him about what had happened, and he did his best to answer, to tell him about Voldemort's return, as the professor led him somewhere through the halls of Hogwarts.
~HP~
Soon after Harry had been taken away from her, she realized that Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were hurrying away from the crowds towards the castle at a much more urgent pace than would be expected to simply check up on Harry in the hospital wing.
Trying to pull herself together, she followed after them at a run, slowing down to match their brisk walk when she'd almost caught up to them — she might have been Harry's boyfriend, but she doubted her presence would be much appreciated by the professors at the moment. But a dark sense of foreboding she couldn't explain told her she couldn't let them out of her sight.
Much to her surprise, when they got to the castle, instead of heading towards the hospital wing like she'd expected, the professors made for the third floor, where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and teacher's office were located.
Mad-Eye had just finished explaining his manipulations to Harry when the door was blasted into smithereens by three deafening Stupefy's, and Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape burst in, Hermione right behind them. She rushed over to Harry, throwing her arms around him as tightly as she could, as the three adults leveled their wands at a now unconscious Mad-Eye, who'd been thrown backwards and onto the floor by the force of the spells.
Throughout Dumbledore's explanation of what had really been going on, and then Crouch Jr's own confession under the influence of Veritaserum, Hermione clung to Harry, and Harry clung back, too numb to feel anything. At the beginning Professor McGonagall had tried to pull Harry away from her to take him to the hospital wing, but she only clung tighter and Dumbledore thankfully insisted Harry stay, and no one had tried to move her or Harry after that.
Once Dumbledore had bound Crouch Jr and asked McGonagall to stand guard over him, he led Harry and Hermione up to his office, where they found a human Sirius waiting for them. As Harry and Hermione sat next to each other in front of Dumbledore's desk holding hands, Fawkes flew across the room and landed on Harry's knee. With his free hand, Harry stroked the beautiful gold-and-scarlet plumage of the remarkable bird, as Dumbledore told Sirius everything Crouch Jr had confessed to.
Finally sitting down at his desk, Dumbledore leaned forward and looked directly at Harry.
Knowing before Dumbledore even asked, that he was about to question him about everything that had taken place in the graveyard, Harry tried to summon up what little strength he had left to answer. As Hermione squeezed his hand encouragingly, the phoenix let out a soft, quavering note which filled Harry with an unexpected resolve, and he began telling Dumbledore everything, from the moment he'd been yanked from the maze by the portkey. Sometime in the middle of his recounting, he realized that Hermione had laid her head on his shoulder, silently reassuring him that she was there, and that everything he had experienced that night was over with for the time being. Harry finally finished his tale, feeling much lighter than he had before he'd begun, as if retelling everything had allowed all the pain and heartache to flow out of him.
When he had finished, he watched as Fawkes fluttered from his knee down to the floor next to his injured leg, and let a few pearly white tears leak out of its eyes onto the broken skin to heal it from the spider, the same way it had in the Chamber of Secrets two years prior after the basilisk.
As the phoenix flew back up to its perch a few moments later, Harry could hear Dumbledore praising his bravery through the whole ordeal he'd suffered, but Harry was hardly paying attention. All he could focus on was Hermione sitting next to him, his hand still clasped tightly in hers and her gripping it like she was afraid if she ever let go he would disappear from her again and not be so fortunate this time. He squeezed back as well as he could through his exhaustion, more than anything just wanting some time alone with her to do nothing but simply be.
But that wasn't to happen, as Dumbledore insisted they go back down to the hospital wing for Harry to spend the night there, which from more than his fair share of experience with the hospital wing over the four years he'd attended Hogwarts, he knew would be anything other than peace and time alone with his girlfriend.
Hermione also knew this would mean having to deal with a mollycoddling Mrs Weasley as well, as there was no way the Matriarch wasn't already lying in wait for them in the hospital wing, as that was doubtlessly where she immediately went once she'd seen Harry had been taken away from the stadium. And just as she'd expected, when the four of them entered the hospital wing five minutes later, they found Mrs Weasley pestering a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey, who was insisting for doubtlessly the dozenth time that she didn't have a clue where Harry was, but that he certainly wasn't there.
Fortunately, as they entered and Mrs Weasley spotted Harry, Dumbledore headed her off. As Harry and Hermione hurried to slip behind the curtain of the bed Madam Pomfrey ushered him to, they heard Dumbledore tell the Weasleys not to question Harry until he was ready to talk on his own, and certainly not that night.
At which point Mrs Weasley immediately rounded on the twins and Ginny — who hadn't made any move towards Harry when he entered, instead waiting for him to come to them — and hissed, as though they were the ones attempting to be nosy and not her, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped with Harry behind the curtain and helped him change from his robes into his pajamas without falling asleep standing up, and then helped him into the bed.
Before moving the curtain back again to allow the Weasleys to visit him, Madam Pomfrey quickly waved her wand over Harry to make sure there weren't any injuries that needed taken care of. Content that he was as in as good a condition as could be expected given the unknown circumstances he'd clearly been through, as no one had thought it important enough to tell her, the doctor, what had actually happened to her patient, she removed the privacy curtain and headed to her office to get him a sleeping potion.
As Mrs Weasley descended on Harry's bed at an almost unnatural speed and the other four followed at a more reasonable pace, Hermione deliberately crawled up onto the bed next to Harry and lay down beside him, wrapping an arm protectively around his waist. Almost to Hermione's surprise, Mrs Weasley did obey Dumbledore's order not to question Harry about anything that had happened, and at Hermione's own glares refrained from trying to mess with his bed-covers.
A few seconds later Madam Pomfrey returned with the sleeping potion and handed it to Harry, and he began drinking it. He'd only taken a few gulps before he began drifting off, just registering in his hazy mind that Hermione had laid her head down on his chest before the blissfulness of sleep overtook him, and he thought no more.
~HP~
Unfortunately, his sleep wasn't going to last as long as he would have preferred.
When he awoke groggily some amount of time later, the only thing he noticed at first through the warmth and sleepiness and desire to drop right back off again was that Hermione no longer had her head resting on his chest. Instead, she was propped up next to him on her elbow, listening to something going on in the hallway outside the hospital wing. It was then that he finally heard the muffled shouts coming towards them that she, and the five Weasleys, who were still there as well, were listening to.
Then a second later Fudge, McGonagall, and Snape burst into the hospital wing yelling back and forth at each other about dementors, Crouch Jr, Dumbledore, and other things that his sleepy mind wasn't up for taking in at the moment. But he did register that Fudge stormed up to Mrs Weasley demanding to know where Dumbledore was, as if she would have any clue where the Headmaster had gotten off to — unless Hermione's vague theory that they were all in cahoots about controlling his life was true, and she really would know exactly where he was and what he was doing.
Then Dumbledore did burst in, and through the ensuing shouting match, Harry gleaned that Fudge had brought a dementor with him into the castle, and it had kissed Crouch Jr, which was a problem because Crouch Jr couldn't now give testimony to the fact Voldemort had been the one behind everything. Throughout the entire shouting match, Hermione diligently shielded Harry from the Minister's view, allowing him to pretend he was still asleep despite all the shouting going on, until Harry had felt it necessary that he try to tell the Minister the truth of what had happened that night.
Of course, that succeeded just as well as it had with Sirius the year before in that very same room, when he'd tried to explain then the truth of what had happened in the Shrieking Shack — as in, it didn't work at all. Fudge still didn't believe a word Harry said, still believed Harry was touched in the head (to put it politely), and still refused to listen to anything from any of them that went contrary to what he already wanted to believe.
After Fudge had finally stormed away making threats about trying to take over the school, Dumbledore began addressing all of the adults left in the room. Turning to Mrs Weasley and Bill, he asked, "Am I right in thinking that I can count on your family?"
At Mrs Weasley's agreement, he gave them their instructions, and sent them on their way to begin the process of recruiting allies. Mrs Weasley had wanted to stay with Harry, but at Hermione's glare and insistence that she was more than capable of taking care of her boyfriend by herself, and that it was far more important to start assembling for the war against Voldemort than it was to spend the night by Harry's bedside watching him sleep, the Matriarch had finally relented and left with her oldest son to go tell her husband what had happened and the upcoming assignments they needed to begin preparing for.
Then Dumbledore sent Professor McGonagall to go collect Hagrid and Madam Maxime and bring them to his office, for him to speak to shortly. Madam Pomfrey he sent to take Winky from the fake Professor Moody's office down to the kitchens for Dobby to take care of, leaving just Snape and Sirius in dog form still in the hospital wing with him and Harry and Hermione.
After having Sirius transform back into human form and forcing the two of them to shake hands, he sent Sirius off to alert several more allies, before turning to Snape. Their conversation was short and very cryptic, before Snape swept off looking even colder than normal, leaving Harry and Hermione wondering what it was Dumbledore had asked Snape to do.
Once Dumbledore had then bid Harry and Hermione goodnight to take care of his own part of the new war against Voldemort, the twins said, "We'll leave you two to yourselves, but we'll come by and visit sometime tomorrow," before dragging their sister out of the hospital wing with them so they could be alone.
After exchanging a soft kiss with him, Hermione handed Harry the goblet with the remaining sleeping potion. Drinking the remaining potion as Hermione lay down against his side again and wrapped her arm around his waist and lay her head on his chest, Harry was out like a light before his head even hit his pillow.