Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resuscitation of Agapé ❯ Diagram of Agapé ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Harry Potter and the Resuscitation of Agapé
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X

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WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. CONTENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, THEN DRINK KOOL-AID.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Thanks, as always, my little Duchess, for supporting me and being my right-hand woman.
Hopefully you've gotten over the shock from the end of the last chapter (at least enough to continue, which I suppose you have, heh). I must apologize for the somewhat odd ending of this installment, but it had to be that way for the beginning of the next to work. On with the show!
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~*~ Chapter Four: Diagram Of Agapé

These words might have had more impact on Harry if he'd known what they meant. "A herfarmywhatsis?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. "Shoot. I hadn't counted on this."

"On what?"

"On you being a moron, that's what!"

"HEY-!"

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean that. It's just... I forgot that most people don't know what they are, or that they even exist. WE exist," she corrected herself.

"Are you telling me that you're some kind of... of overgrown faerie or something?"

"Stop it," she said, almost laughing again. "You sound like Ron."

"Ron..." He peered at her quizzically. "Why couldn't you tell him you're a hermattything?"

Her expression fell slightly. "Dear Ronald... I truly hope you understand this once I've explained it, but... Ron, on the other hand-"

"-can be a bit thick," he finished for her.

"If I thought he could actually handle this, I'd tell him straight away, really I would," she said, her voice cracking. "It's hard enough telling you."

"Because I'm as thick as he is."

She made an impatient "tuh!" before continuing. "Harry, you're the only one I could tell. I feel... I thought you could identify with me, because you know. You know what it's like to be a bit different from everyone else."

She had him there. "I never asked to be the Boy Who Lived."

"And I never asked for this." For some reason, she gestured to her lap.

"For what, a fanny?"

"That's not all that's down there," she said darkly.

"What ARE you on about?!"

"Let's just say a hermaphrodite is where the lines blur... where gender isn't black and white."

Harry was vexed for a brief moment, then what she was inferring suddenly hit him. "Are you saying you-"

"Both." Her voice was shaking again. "One sitting comfortably on top of the other. Isn't it grand?"

If she hadn't been trying to tell him this for ages, if she didn't look as if she were about to fall apart, Harry would have been absolutely sure she wasn't being serious.

"You're... not having me on... are you." It was a statement rather than an actual question.

"Believe me, if I was, I'd be positively giddy."

As he feebly tried to wrap his brain around what she was telling him, he noticed tears were streaming down the visible side of her face.

"But... but that's not possible."

"I assure you it's quite possible."

"No, no," He became dimly aware that he was beginning to rave. "It can't be, it's not-"

"Harry-"

"Just tell me you're pulling my leg, tell me this is some great con-"

"DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A CON?!"

An absolute horror filled Harry as Hermione sprang to her feet, thrust her hands under her blouse, and yanked down her jeans in one swift motion.

In the instant it was happening, he had a feeling that what he saw next would be burned into his permanent memory, never to be dislodged. In a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, he stared, open-mouthed and thunderstruck, at the unnatural sight so blatantly presented before him, then tore his eyes away.

"Not pretty, is it?!" she demanded.

"Pull your knickers up."

"I'm a freak, aren't I? AREN'T I?!"

"Please, pull them up."

His eyes still squeezed shut, his heart pounding in his throat, he heard her do so, then slide down the cave wall. He cautiously turned to look at her, and found she was shuddering with anguished sobs.

"Now listen-"

But as he said it, she leapt up and bolted for the exit. Luckily, Harry had already been stretching his arm out in comfort, and as he had much quicker reflexes and was fleet of foot, he caught her arm before she reached the cave mouth.

"Let go!" she wailed.

"No."

"Please, just let me go!" She was jerking wildly, desperate to tear away from his grasp, to escape.

"I won't!"

Her body slackened, and she sank to the floor, racking sobs issuing from the mad tangle that had been her hair. Harry did not let her go, but knelt next to her, pulling her into an unfaltering hug.

"Don't-"

"You need it," he cut across her softly.

After fighting weakly for a few moments, she embraced him, her hands nearly cutting into his back, weeping freely into his shoulder.

He wasn't sure exactly how long they stayed like that; somehow, it was an instant and an age. The trembling person in his arms seemed so forlorn and vulnerable, and he could think of no great words of comfort. At some point, however, she pulled away from him, wiping her face.

"Now I've got your shirt all wet," she blubbered. "I'm s-so worthless."

"Now, listen," he began again, more softly this time. "I can't deny that finding this out is... well, a bit weird."

She made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"I don't really know what to think about it, to be honest. But... Hermione, I don't want you thinking stupid things like I hate you, or that I don't want to talk to you ever again. So... please, just don't run off or anything."

She pushed the hair out of her face as she looked up at him, mouthing wordlessly.

"I... I don't want to lose you, either."

Fresh tears welled up, and her lip began to tremble. "Harry..."

She flung her arms around him again, hiccoughing into his shoulder. He patted her on the back for a moment, then stood quickly.

"Right, well, let's go catch up with Ron. He's probably sulking at the bar as we speak."

She stared up at him, her arms having fallen around his leg after he had risen. "Wh... how can you be so casual about this?"

"It's like I said, I really don't know what to think. It might take my thick head some time to sort that out. But meantime, we're still mates... right?" He flashed her an uncertain grin.

She just gaped at him for a long moment, then slowly grinned through her tears. "I... I can't believe how well you're taking this... it's so much more than I could ever have hoped, it..."

Harry laughed quietly as he held out a hand to help her up. Some part of him knew he was acting like a git, but he hoped it would make it seem as if he wasn't as startled and unnerved as he really was. "Quite the pair, aren't we? The parselmouth Boy Who Almost Snuffed It and the... what's that wonky word again?"

"Hermaphrodite," she said with supreme distaste as she steadied herself on her feet.

"Right... what a mouthful. Hang on," he said, something dawning on him. "Is that why your parents named you-"

"Yes, actually. Well, the name comes from Shakespeare, and my mother's a fan of the theatre. The minute she found out what I was, the name was being penned on my birth certificate."

"Don't say 'what'. You're not an animal."

To Harry's semi-horror, she looked like she was about to start crying again. He cast around for something less likely to get her going.

"I think I get why you hated Grawp's nickname," he said as he stuffed the cloak into his bag and shouldered it.

"Well, partly that, but mostly because Grawp frightens me a tad." She shuddered as she wiped her eyes again. "If I never see that hulking monolith again..."

"Don't blame you. Well, let's get out of here. We've been gone for..." He checked his watch. "Damn, an hour and a half!"

"What?!" She pulled his wrist toward her unceremoneously. "Gosh, now I'm glad I didn't try to tell you on the train - I wouldn't have had the time!"

"I hate to admit it, but I agree. Let's be quick, now."

"It's too bad I gave the Time-Turner back to Professor McGonagall," she said as they hurriedly clambered down the slope. "We could just walk up behind Ron five minutes after we left and say we saw something interesting in a shop window."

"What ARE we going to tell him? I could say I went off with Cho somewhere..."

"I could just go back to the castle and say I felt ill," she muttered as they jumped the stile.

"I suppose so. That the plan, then?"

"It's all I can think of. I was so worried about whether or not you'd end up loathing me I didn't think about proper alibis."

He grabbed her shoulder reassuringly as they walked back toward the village, and she smiled fondly at him, her eyes still shining with unleaked tears. She suddenly stopped as Dervish and Banges came into view.

"Can I... borrow your cloak? Be a bit harder to use our alibi if I ran into anyone on the way to the castle."

"By all means." She pulled it out of his bag, whirled it around herself, and vanished from view.

"I'll stow it in my trunk until I can get it back to you," the air said.

"I trust you," he said, grinning.

"And Harry?"

"Yeah?"

There was a long pause, then she whispered "Cheers" before he heard receeding footfalls.

~*~

"Where the bloody hell have you two-"

Ron broke off, looking around him. "Where's Hermione?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well," Harry said, sitting down at the table with his butterbeer. He wasn't lying, after all; she had said "I felt ill", even if he knew she was concocting a cover story at the time.

"Back up to the castle, then." He stared at Madam Rosmerta for a moment before he looked back at Harry. "Hang on a tick, where'd you go?"

Harry flashed him a wicked smile.

"Oh. Well, you did a good job of wiping all the lipstick off."

They both laughed, then Ron sighed and set his tankard down. "I've been so bored I was actually asking Luna about that Crumply-Snack thing."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And what did you learn?"

"Like I could tell you. I just wanted something to do." He frowned, returning his gaze to the curvacious proprietor. "I need a woman."

"You and Luna seemed to be getting on fine."

"Get stuffed," he said without enthusiasm. "I meant a girl worth having who's not a nutter, like you've done."

"Hope you can find one that gives you nearly as much grief, then."

Ron snorted. "Point taken. Well, it's getting late, we'd better go before McGonagall and Filch come stalking through town after us. Besides, it's threatening rain."

As they trudged up the rapidly-darkening path and away from Hogsmeade, Harry couldn't help wondering how right Hermione was not to tell Ron about this; he had as much right to know. Then again, he was as unsure as Hermione was of how well Ron would take something like that.

He still wasn't quite sure how to take it, himself. Someone he'd always been unquestionably sure was a girl had turned out to be a bit of both. As she had dropped her pants, an overwhelming wave of nausea had swept him, but now that the moment had long passed and he could sort it out, he realized that it was less that the sight was vile or disgusting, and more that the concept of a hermaphrodite was so new to him, and there he was being shown firsthand before he'd really had a chance to understand it. There was also the matter that he simply had no desire to see anyone's wanger, save his own. But he knew she hadn't taken any pleasure in showing him - she was quite angry and upset, really - and due to that he did not resent her for it. She had wanted to prove to him she was being truthful, and that had done it, all right.

At that moment, he keeled forward and pitched onto the ground. Ron let out a yelp, then stooped over him.

"What, what is it?!"

"My stupid scar... it's- AAAGH!!!" Harry seized, clutching his forehead and trying not to thrash too wildly.

Ron glanced around desperately for help, but there was no one within sight. He bent back over Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder.

As Harry looked up at Ron, at the panicked face of his best friend, a warmth shot through him. Instantly, the pain vanished, leaving dull echoes within his skull. He shakily rose, Ron half-supporting his weight.

"What was that all about, mate?"

"I think you know," he replied, tapping his scar.

"Yeah, but what was it about?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Frustration. Voldemort wanted... he needed..." He blinked. "It's gone."

"What's gone, what's he taken?"

"No, I mean the vision... I've lost most of it now."

"Oh... so, he was frustrated?"

"Yes. There was something he'd been lusting after for some time, but now he can't get it... or it's been destroyed, or something."

"I'm not too reassured by the 'or something'."

"Me, either." His brow furrowed. "This one wasn't very clear. Not very clear at all... and I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

"But it's over, right?"

"Yeah."

As they resumed their trek up to the castle, Harry's insides were discontented. He had managed to push Voldemort from his mind over the past months, had miraculously gone without any strange visions or waking up with that prickling in his scar... and now here he was, right back where he'd left off. If Voldemort was enraged, that could only be something very good... or very bad.

Any further thoughts than this were interrupted by Ron's jab in the ribs.

"I'll meet up with you in the common room, then."

And as he trudged off toward the front doors of the castle, Harry suddenly realized Cho was walking toward him.

"Evening," she said, smiling pleasantly. "I didn't see you in the village- are you alright? You look miserable."

He realized he was still half-dwelling on what had just happened. He hitched a smile onto his face and said, "Nah, I'm fine, just a bit preoccupied."

She peered into his face concernedly for a few seconds. "Is this about Quidditch?"

"Er, yeah," he said, seizing on the subject. "Our newer team members are shaping up to be a ruddy disappointment."

"So I heard." She patted him on the shoulder gingerly. "Hope you can get them trained in time for the first match."

Harry nodded, and he felt a few raindrops land on his face. "You guys are up against Slytherin first go, though."

"I think we've got a fighting chance this year," she said, grinning wickedly. "You'd better watch your bum, Potter."

"I'd rather watch-"

Luckily for him, a very loud thunderclap cut off the flirtatious remark he had been unable to prevent himself from saying. Seconds later, the skies opened up and the rain began to fall in sheets.

"Let's get inside!" Cho shouted.

Harry simply nodded, and squinting hard with his hand over his eyes, he followed her as she raced over the lawns toward the front doors. Suddenly, she disappeared from view, and before he knew what was happening, he had tripped and landed on top of her sprawled form.

"Sorry!" he said loudly over the noise of the storm, rolling off of her and trying not to think about just how soft of a cushion she had made.

"No worries!" She was laughing as she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him, wiping mud from her face.

Their eyes locked, and Harry had a fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mixing with the rain running down from his hair. Cho was leaning toward him, and he was debating over which impulse to follow: the one to lean back, and the one to lean in. But before he knew what was happening, she had slipped an arm around his waist and up his back. Abandoning all sanity, he shut his eyes and eased forward...


~*~ To Be Continued