Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resuscitation of Agapé ❯ By Starlight ( Chapter 13 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: jessica_x 
...in which perhaps the most important scavenger hunt of all time takes place.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2008 | Updated On: 08.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 4.4K | Visits: 289 | Status: Completed
...in which perhaps the most important scavenger hunt of all time takes place.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.09.2008 | Updated On: 08.09.2008 | Pages: 5 | Words: 4.4K | Visits: 289 | Status: Completed
Harry Potter and the Resuscitation of Agapé
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X
************************************************************************ *****
WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. INGREDIENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR, BUT THE RECIPE IS. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, THEN RUN SCREAMING FOR THE NEAREST FLORIST AND DEMAND HE/SHE/OTHER BUY YOU A LEOTARD.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Slow goings, no? I've found myself busier than usual these past few weeks due to increased work schedule... and yes, chattering away on the phone for hours with girlfriends, as well. Sorry! I was shocked to find that, by the gods, I actually DO have a life! But enough about that.
I'm pleased (and slightly creeped out) that you all seem to like my Zombie-Hermione... that was definitely one of my better ideas with this fic. Interesting things are ahead for the Gryffindors (and a Ravenclaw or two), and I hope you enjoy the coming chapters!
************************************************************************ *****
~*~ Chapter Thirteen: By Starlight
Whispers filled the halls as the students went down to breakfast. Everyone, regardless of which house they were in, seemed to know that Hermione Granger was now in the hospital wing. Some of them thought her to have been killed, having heard it somewhere, but most said the same thing when they heard this news: if she were dead, why did they bother taking her to Madam Pomfrey?
~*~
"You should go to bed," she told them for the thousandth time.
"No," Harry said flatly. "We're not moving from your bedside again. Ever."
The previous night, they had followed Dumbledore and Hermione to the hospital wing, where a startled Poppy Pomfrey had dropped her tray of cleaned beakers, shattering them. After Dumbledore had briefly explained the situation and left them, Harry had slipped out and retrieved his belongings from Myrtle's bathroom before anyone else could. When he stowed them in his room, he noticed the Dark book had already been taken from the bottom of his trunk, which agitated him; it seemed Dumbledore had now lost faith in his supposed Golden Boy.
"I'm so sorry." Hermione's haunting eyes were shining. "I've gotten you in so much trouble, now, Harry..."
"It's not his fault Dumbledore thinks he's the next You-Know-Who," Ron said scathingly. "I can't believe him!"
"He has good reason," Hermione whispered. "Oh, Harry, why ever did you make that awful potion?"
"The answer's right in front of me," he responded quietly.
He saw she had been about to continue, but at this simple statement, she faltered, and stroked his hand even more fervently than she had been. "I- I-"
"I know, I know, I shouldn't be dabbling in the Dark Arts, as it's not a nice thing to do, and nothing good could possibly come from it, and I'll end up killing off everything that crosses my path. The Boy Who Snuffed It will become The Boy Who Snuffs, and so on and so forth."
"Harry... I'm not worth you turning evil."
He blinked, and saw that the murky liquid that had been forming was now rolling down her cheeks.
"Of course you are," he soothed. "And I'm not turning evil, I don't care what Dumbledore said. I just... I couldn't lose you. I couldn't."
For a long time, she stared at him, unsure of what to say. Then a hand strayed to her robes, and she produced the necklace. To Harry's surprise, the crystal was now red.
"What's that thing?" Ron asked.
"Why's it changed colour?" Harry asked.
"Obvious, isn't it?" she said, holding it up next to her face.
"Oh." Harry pulled his own out, which was still the same shade of green, of course.
"Wait, don't I get one?" Ron said. Harry stifled a smile.
"I'm almost afraid of what will happen, but..." She bit her lip for a second. "Let's touch them together again."
They did so, but her fears were well-founded. While a great deal brighter, they kept glowing the same hues they had been, though at the exact point at which they met, the two colours combined into a strange, silvery-grey borderline.
"But of course," she sighed. "How stupid of me to have hoped otherwise."
"What?"
"These crystals are imbued with magic, as you probably guessed. Once they've taken owners, only the two people that own them can make them shine purest white. Which means..."
"What, what?!"
"It means the crystal can tell I'm not the same person that bought it. I'm not really Hermione anymore, because I'm... I'm dead."
"But of course you are!" Ron insisted.
"The Soul Gems don't lie!" She was utterly distraught. "I may still have her body, and I may still have her spirit and memories, but I'm not really Hermione! I'm just... I'm just a cheap imitation!"
"But they glowed brighter," Harry said. "They must realize that even though something's not quite right, it's not all wrong, either."
"That's because I'm... Pseudo-Hermione!"
Harry snorted. "Pseudo-Hermione, eh?"
But her lip was trembling, and she seemed hurt that he wasn't taking her seriously.
"Look," he said, placing his hand on her knee. "You might be the walking dead, but you're still our Hermione. Everything about you says it, from the way you hold yourself to how sharp your mind is working. I certainly don't think you're a fake, and I'm sure Ron doesn't, either."
Ron shook his head vigorously. "You might look a bit peaky, but still the same old 'Mione, no doubt about it."
She looked between the two of them, then sighed deeply. "But for how much longer? How long is this rubbish potion supposed to keep me alive- or undead, or whatever?"
Harry did not answer, and did not look at her.
"Harry?"
He coughed. "Maybe a few weeks. Probably not that long."
The moment she began weeping, Harry pressed on. "That's only because we're not out of the woods. Harry Potter has not yet begun to fight."
"What are you on about?" she moaned immediately.
"Is this the thing you wanted the dragon heart for?" Ron asked nervously.
"THE WHAT?!" Hermione's eyes had flown open, a move that was much more disquieting when they were black as coal. "Why on earth do you need one of THOSE?!"
"Another of my mad potions," he whispered. "A good one."
"But Harry, we can't do anymore Dark magic, it'll-"
"This potion may have come from a Dark book, but it's anything but. In fact, it's one of the purest potions I've ever read about."
"What, what is it?" Hermione and Ron said in unison. Harry grinned cunningly, shooting a particularly meaningful look at Hermione.
"The Elixir of Agapé."
~*~
Dear Moony,
I need some things, and please don't ask why, just send them on if you can. I promise you it's of the utmost importance, and if you can manage getting them to me, I swear I'll never ask you for another thing as long as I live. I need seven white dove feathers and two silver-and-gold wedding bands; if you need money for them, help yourself to my Gringotts vault. I would be forever in your debt. Please send them on as soon as humanly possible!
Harry
~*~
"He's the only one I can trust, now," Harry muttered.
"But he's still working for the Order," Hermione whispered. "What if he alerts Dumbledore to what we're planning?"
Just then, the doors creaked open, and Ron slipped in, running over to them.
"Got it," he muttered.
"Did you ask Neville, or just go and take it?" Hermione needled him.
"I asked Neville. He had one."
"Let's see it," Harry said.
A tiny seed was in the middle of his palm.
"Forget-me-not, right?"
"I'm not that thick," Ron protested. "Of course it's a forget-me-not!"
"Good, good, then just, give it here, I've got my bag."
Ron handed it over, and Harry took out a thick parchment envelope, dropping the seed in. He sealed it before shoving it back in the bag.
"Only need to open it one more time," he muttered.
"Oh, yes," Hermione whispered, her hand darting under her pillow. "Quick, put this in there, too."
She handed Harry a jar, which he held up to his eyes. "What is it?"
"The Mandrake Draught, of course! I nicked it from Madam Pomfrey's cabinet last night - it's what's left of the harvest in our second year. I'd feel a bit guilty about it, but I doubt there'll be many petrified students cropping up again."
Between their classes and mounting studies (they only bothered with it to keep up appearances), the leisure time of their last few days had been spent frantically hunting down all the ingredients for the Elixir. The easiest of these was plain white rice, which Dobby was more than happy to provide them with. The hardest was still hanging on Pigwidgeon's return.
Hedwig returned first, however. At breakfast on the fifth day after Hermione's death-and-resurrection, she had swooped into the Great Hall, bearing a rather flat package. He petted her gratefully and slipped it into his pocket while she helped herself to one of his sausage links.
Back in the dormitory, he frantically ripped the paper off to find a box. Opening the lid, he found seven gleaming white feathers, all in pristine condition, and under that, lying on the velvet-lined bottom, were a pair of extremely handsome rings: two thin bands of silver tightly intertwining one gold band.
"There's a letter Spellotaped to the inside of the lid," Ron said.
Harry laid the rings aside and opened it hurriedly.
Dear Harry,
I can't imagine what you'd want with wedding bands, but I do hope you're behaving yourself! You've not been sneaking girls up to your dormitory, have you? I pray an owl bearing a birth announcement doesn't arrive next! Of course, that still doesn't explain your need for the feathers. Either way, I'm glad to have helped, and you can certainly count on me for anything else you may need.
Moony
"Lupin's a stand-up chap, isn't he?" Ron said, grinning. Harry's mouth was also stretched into a wide smile as he bent to further examine the artifacts.
~*~
One small event interrupted their otherwise smooth plotting. Colin Creevey, a student having stepped on him in the halls, had turned up in the hospital wing with a broken toe. Immediately upon seeing Hermione, he started taking pictures, and though Hermione and Ron seemed ready to tear him a new one, Harry said that they would actually pose for his camera - IF they got every last photograph, and had his assurance that none would find their way into anyone else's hands. Colin hastily agreed, and several semi-poignant snapshots were taken... though Hermione adamantly refused to smile.
Pigwidgeon didn't deliver his letter until Friday, two days later, having had a lot further to travel. The normally-hyper owl was positively exhausted, and gave one tired hoot before heading for the Owlery.
"Well, he obviously hasn't sent the heart on," Ron mumbled, looking at the envelope. Harry, also uneasy, opened it.
Harry,
What you are asking of me is impossible. I'm sorry, I would really love to help, but I just can't see any way of doing it; all of our dragons are quite precious to us. It pains me to tell you this, and I'm deeply sorry to hear that Hermione's sick. I hope Madam Pomfrey will find some other means of curing her.
Charlie
"Git," Ron snapped. "I'd like to see her come up with something better than what we've got."
"This isn't over," Harry whispered, glancing warily over at Ginny, who had looked up at Ron's harsh outburst. "We'll make him understand, we'll make him try harder."
"And just how are we gonna do that? Send him a Howler?"
His face was set. "We'll do one better. We're going to Romania."
~*~
Harry and Ron were quite startled to find Ginny and Neville in the common room when they went downstairs late that night.
"What-?"
"You're not going off alone," Ginny said, hands on her hips.
"But we're not going anywhere!" Ron lied. It was a feeble one, at that; he had his Cleansweep slung over his shoulder, and Harry had his Firebolt. They were both wearing heavy traveling cloaks.
"Do we look that thick?" Neville said, glaring. "You two have been acting weird all week. We know it's got something to do with Hermione."
Ginny held up a handful of peach-tinted string. Harry and Ron exchanged a dark glance. Just how much had they overheard?
"What's all this plotting about?" Ginny pleaded. "You can trust us, can't you?"
"We don't want you getting chucked out, too," Ron said.
"TELL US!!!" they both shouted.
"Shh!" Ron hissed. "D'you-"
"The game's up, Ron," Harry breathed resignedly, walking across the dark common room and flopping into a chair. If they kept shouting at each other, the whole castle would wake up, and then they'd REALLY be in it; seemed a wiser move to let the cat out now and avoid piercing glares and accusations. "Hermione is dying."
"WHAT?!" they hissed, barely able to keep from hollering again.
"Well, really, she's already dead," Ron said, clutching his broom uneasily. "Except... not. It's a bit hard to explain..."
"What are you babbling about?!" Ginny hissed. "This isn't funny!"
"No, it isn't," Harry muttered.
"Then why are you saying such horrible things?!"
"Because it's the truth. If we don't get hold of a, er... special item soon - and by soon, I mean less than a week - Hermione's not going to make it."
Neville and Ginny's faces fell, and they sat down silently, staring off into space. Ron and Harry exchanged depressed looks.
"We're going with you," Neville whispered.
"We told you, we don't want-"
"You haven't got a choice," Ginny continued. "If you don't let us go, we'll just follow you, anyway. Hermione's our friend, too, and we're not going to let her die if there's anything we can do to prevent it."
Harry sighed, pulling at his hair. He knew this speech - it had been given almost exactly a year ago, by the exact same people. He also knew it was futile to try and put them off their determined course.
"Fine, forget I said anything. Let's just be off, we don't have time to spare."
~*~
The Hogwarts grounds seemed as dark as ever they had as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and a reluctant Hermione stepped outside. The half-moon kept drifting behind the sparse clouds, and the stars seemed far dimmer than usual.
"I still don't think I should go," Hermione whispered. "I ought to just stay in bed, what if I'm dangerous, or-"
"Bollocks," Harry breathed as he eased the giant oaken doors closed. "You're as dangerous as Fang."
She smiled, but definitely still held her misgivings.
"Now, how the bloody hell are we all going to manage with only three brooms?" Ron whispered. Ginny had retrieved hers from her room before they set off - she and Neville had also donned warmer garments.
"Well, we'll just have to double up," Harry said. "Hermione can ride on mine, and I guess Neville can ride with-"
"Look!" Hermione shrieked. Harry grimaced at how careless she was being with her volume, then saw what she meant.
Luna Lovegood was riding casually across the grounds toward them, perched atop a thestral. Its skeletal, dragon-like head bobbed up and down as it gamboled, ghostly eyes staring forward, and the sparse black hairs covering it did nothing to conceal the bones underneath. Its huge, leathery wings were folded to its sides.
"Good evening," she said pleasantly. "Out for a midnight fly, I see. So am I." She patted the head of the horse-like creature, and it tossed its mane. Ginny was the only one who looked unnerved; to her eyes, Luna was floating in midair, petting nothing.
"Horrid-looking things." Ron looked as if he'd just been handed a jar of Stinksap and told it was the only thing he could drink for a year. "I'd almost rather they were still invisible."
"I- I can see them, now," Hermione whispered. "It's because... because I'm dead, isn't it?"
Neville and Ginny spun to look at her at once, their reactions rivaling the one they'd had upon seeing her ghastly appearance several minutes ago. Luna, more slowly, also looked at her.
"DEAD?!" Ginny hissed. "But you just said she was GOING to die, not that she's already there! How can she be up and about if she's deceased?!"
"She's undead," Ron whispered. "I tried to say as much earlier..."
Neville sputtered. "Wait, you- you mean she's a-"
"Zombie," Harry finished.
"Wow," Luna breathed. "I don't believe I've ever met a zombie before..."
Harry noticed at that moment that Hermione was on the verge of a breakdown. It dawned on him how horrible it would be to have people standing around talking about your untimely demise like that.
"Let's just get on with it, alright?" he said hastily.
"This may just be the ticket," Neville whispered. "I mean, instead of doubling up on the brooms, the rest of us can just take thestrals! I mean, we can all see them, now!"
"I can't!" Ginny wailed.
"That's not half bad, Neville," Harry said. "Luna, can you call two more thestrals for us?"
"Of course," she said, and she began making a sort of clicking noise with her mouth. Harry was not quite sure how to describe it, but it sounded kind of wet and ghastly. After a minute or two, however, a thestral emerged from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, another one closely thereafter.
"Good work, thanks, Luna!" She beamed at him, then turned to watch as the two beasts trotted lazily toward them. Luna sped this process up considerably by holding out a raw steak, which the light breeze carried to their nostrils. They quickly moved in on it, and when they reached her began licking the blood from the meat.
"Alright, let's get this over with, as I'm sure the moment everybody wakes up they'll send out a search party." Harry was already astride his broom. "Well, saddle up, Neville. You, too, Hermione."
As nervous as he could tell she was, he knew she didn't hold any mistrust in these creatures. The thestrals had served them well last year, and were about to do so tonight.
"Neville, you're going to take point. Ron can tell your thestral where it's going, he's been there before. After that, he can take up the rear. Hermione's going to stay in the center, right on Neville's heels. Ginny and I can be the wingmen - er, wingpersons." He vaguely realized he sounded like Mad-Eye, which made him appreciate the methods in the old Auror's madness.
"What about me?" Luna asked.
Harry blinked. "Eh?"
"I'm going along, too, aren't I? Only I provided half your transportation, and it's not fair to make me stay behind."
They sighed collectively, and Harry spoke. "Oh, all right, but this is the limit - I swear, if Dean or somebody comes pelting out of the forest on a flying carpet, I'm going to Stun him. Six is more than enough. You can fly above us and scout, I guess."
Harry passed out five pairs of goggles, as he knew it would be a long, rough trip, and the biting wind would surely close their eyes eventually. Ginny used her wand to duplicate her pair, and tossed the newly-conjured one to Luna. As the uneasy sextet prepared for liftoff, Hermione stopped them.
"This is a little something that might just keep us from getting reamed upon our return." She withdrew her wand, swept it in a wide circle, and said, "Acceleratus!"
Nothing. They all blinked, waiting for something spectacular, but all that happened was a quiet snort from one of the thestrals.
"I told you," she whispered. "The Gem doesn't know me anymore, and neither does my wand. I'm the world's biggest fib."
Harry stepped from his broom and went over to her, patting her forearm.
"It'll be okay, Hermione. We'll bring you back and everything'll be fine. Don't worry so much. But what was that spell you were trying to do?"
"Acceleratus Charm. It's supposed to make moving objects double their speed. I thought... maybe we could cut our flight time in half."
"Let me have a go with it, then." Harry withdrew his own wand and repeated her gesture and incantation. A feeble golden dust settled over them, making their cloaks and mounts sparkle dully.
"Er... did I do it right?"
"Well, it's not as bright as it should be, but yes, I'm sure we'll be getting some manner of speed boost now. At least, for a few hours, anyway." She still looked quite put out about her wand as she stowed it, and Harry found his heart had sunken slightly out of empathy.
"Here," Harry said, handing her one of the rings.
"What's this for?"
"It's one of the ingredients."
"I know that, you showed me the list," she said impatiently. "I mean... why are you handing it to me?"
"To remind you of why we're doing all this." His voice was quiet and soothing - so much that only she could hear it. "To remind you of why I'M doing this. You hang onto that ring for the time being, and every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I would do anything for you... lie, cheat, steal... keep a secret... even fly to Romania to prise open a dragon's chest cavity. You are more than worth this, Hermione. I don't want you to ever think otherwise."
She smiled blearily, onyx eyes shining with gratitude, and slipped the ring onto her pale finger. The silver and maize hues shimmered elegantly in the starlight.
"Thank you," she whispered as she slipped her arms carefully around her thestral's neck.
"Of course." As his hand went to his pocket, he felt the band's mate, and unconsciously threaded his finger through it.
"Whoa, WHOA!"
"Neville!"
His thestral was beginning to trot back toward the forest, evidently bored with all the idle chatter.
"Ron, get on with it!"
"Oh, right!" Ron jumped off his broom and sprinted toward the ghastly creature.
"Ready, now," he told the others as he hurriedly remounted his Firebolt.
Ron spoke loudly and clearly, as if worrying the beast was deaf. "Thirteen Fifteen, Trebuchet Lane! Er... in Romania!"
And the twinkling adventurers were soaring through the night sky.
~*~ To Be Continued
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X
************************************************************************ *****
WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. INGREDIENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR, BUT THE RECIPE IS. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, THEN RUN SCREAMING FOR THE NEAREST FLORIST AND DEMAND HE/SHE/OTHER BUY YOU A LEOTARD.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Slow goings, no? I've found myself busier than usual these past few weeks due to increased work schedule... and yes, chattering away on the phone for hours with girlfriends, as well. Sorry! I was shocked to find that, by the gods, I actually DO have a life! But enough about that.
I'm pleased (and slightly creeped out) that you all seem to like my Zombie-Hermione... that was definitely one of my better ideas with this fic. Interesting things are ahead for the Gryffindors (and a Ravenclaw or two), and I hope you enjoy the coming chapters!
************************************************************************ *****
~*~ Chapter Thirteen: By Starlight
Whispers filled the halls as the students went down to breakfast. Everyone, regardless of which house they were in, seemed to know that Hermione Granger was now in the hospital wing. Some of them thought her to have been killed, having heard it somewhere, but most said the same thing when they heard this news: if she were dead, why did they bother taking her to Madam Pomfrey?
~*~
"You should go to bed," she told them for the thousandth time.
"No," Harry said flatly. "We're not moving from your bedside again. Ever."
The previous night, they had followed Dumbledore and Hermione to the hospital wing, where a startled Poppy Pomfrey had dropped her tray of cleaned beakers, shattering them. After Dumbledore had briefly explained the situation and left them, Harry had slipped out and retrieved his belongings from Myrtle's bathroom before anyone else could. When he stowed them in his room, he noticed the Dark book had already been taken from the bottom of his trunk, which agitated him; it seemed Dumbledore had now lost faith in his supposed Golden Boy.
"I'm so sorry." Hermione's haunting eyes were shining. "I've gotten you in so much trouble, now, Harry..."
"It's not his fault Dumbledore thinks he's the next You-Know-Who," Ron said scathingly. "I can't believe him!"
"He has good reason," Hermione whispered. "Oh, Harry, why ever did you make that awful potion?"
"The answer's right in front of me," he responded quietly.
He saw she had been about to continue, but at this simple statement, she faltered, and stroked his hand even more fervently than she had been. "I- I-"
"I know, I know, I shouldn't be dabbling in the Dark Arts, as it's not a nice thing to do, and nothing good could possibly come from it, and I'll end up killing off everything that crosses my path. The Boy Who Snuffed It will become The Boy Who Snuffs, and so on and so forth."
"Harry... I'm not worth you turning evil."
He blinked, and saw that the murky liquid that had been forming was now rolling down her cheeks.
"Of course you are," he soothed. "And I'm not turning evil, I don't care what Dumbledore said. I just... I couldn't lose you. I couldn't."
For a long time, she stared at him, unsure of what to say. Then a hand strayed to her robes, and she produced the necklace. To Harry's surprise, the crystal was now red.
"What's that thing?" Ron asked.
"Why's it changed colour?" Harry asked.
"Obvious, isn't it?" she said, holding it up next to her face.
"Oh." Harry pulled his own out, which was still the same shade of green, of course.
"Wait, don't I get one?" Ron said. Harry stifled a smile.
"I'm almost afraid of what will happen, but..." She bit her lip for a second. "Let's touch them together again."
They did so, but her fears were well-founded. While a great deal brighter, they kept glowing the same hues they had been, though at the exact point at which they met, the two colours combined into a strange, silvery-grey borderline.
"But of course," she sighed. "How stupid of me to have hoped otherwise."
"What?"
"These crystals are imbued with magic, as you probably guessed. Once they've taken owners, only the two people that own them can make them shine purest white. Which means..."
"What, what?!"
"It means the crystal can tell I'm not the same person that bought it. I'm not really Hermione anymore, because I'm... I'm dead."
"But of course you are!" Ron insisted.
"The Soul Gems don't lie!" She was utterly distraught. "I may still have her body, and I may still have her spirit and memories, but I'm not really Hermione! I'm just... I'm just a cheap imitation!"
"But they glowed brighter," Harry said. "They must realize that even though something's not quite right, it's not all wrong, either."
"That's because I'm... Pseudo-Hermione!"
Harry snorted. "Pseudo-Hermione, eh?"
But her lip was trembling, and she seemed hurt that he wasn't taking her seriously.
"Look," he said, placing his hand on her knee. "You might be the walking dead, but you're still our Hermione. Everything about you says it, from the way you hold yourself to how sharp your mind is working. I certainly don't think you're a fake, and I'm sure Ron doesn't, either."
Ron shook his head vigorously. "You might look a bit peaky, but still the same old 'Mione, no doubt about it."
She looked between the two of them, then sighed deeply. "But for how much longer? How long is this rubbish potion supposed to keep me alive- or undead, or whatever?"
Harry did not answer, and did not look at her.
"Harry?"
He coughed. "Maybe a few weeks. Probably not that long."
The moment she began weeping, Harry pressed on. "That's only because we're not out of the woods. Harry Potter has not yet begun to fight."
"What are you on about?" she moaned immediately.
"Is this the thing you wanted the dragon heart for?" Ron asked nervously.
"THE WHAT?!" Hermione's eyes had flown open, a move that was much more disquieting when they were black as coal. "Why on earth do you need one of THOSE?!"
"Another of my mad potions," he whispered. "A good one."
"But Harry, we can't do anymore Dark magic, it'll-"
"This potion may have come from a Dark book, but it's anything but. In fact, it's one of the purest potions I've ever read about."
"What, what is it?" Hermione and Ron said in unison. Harry grinned cunningly, shooting a particularly meaningful look at Hermione.
"The Elixir of Agapé."
~*~
Dear Moony,
I need some things, and please don't ask why, just send them on if you can. I promise you it's of the utmost importance, and if you can manage getting them to me, I swear I'll never ask you for another thing as long as I live. I need seven white dove feathers and two silver-and-gold wedding bands; if you need money for them, help yourself to my Gringotts vault. I would be forever in your debt. Please send them on as soon as humanly possible!
Harry
~*~
"He's the only one I can trust, now," Harry muttered.
"But he's still working for the Order," Hermione whispered. "What if he alerts Dumbledore to what we're planning?"
Just then, the doors creaked open, and Ron slipped in, running over to them.
"Got it," he muttered.
"Did you ask Neville, or just go and take it?" Hermione needled him.
"I asked Neville. He had one."
"Let's see it," Harry said.
A tiny seed was in the middle of his palm.
"Forget-me-not, right?"
"I'm not that thick," Ron protested. "Of course it's a forget-me-not!"
"Good, good, then just, give it here, I've got my bag."
Ron handed it over, and Harry took out a thick parchment envelope, dropping the seed in. He sealed it before shoving it back in the bag.
"Only need to open it one more time," he muttered.
"Oh, yes," Hermione whispered, her hand darting under her pillow. "Quick, put this in there, too."
She handed Harry a jar, which he held up to his eyes. "What is it?"
"The Mandrake Draught, of course! I nicked it from Madam Pomfrey's cabinet last night - it's what's left of the harvest in our second year. I'd feel a bit guilty about it, but I doubt there'll be many petrified students cropping up again."
Between their classes and mounting studies (they only bothered with it to keep up appearances), the leisure time of their last few days had been spent frantically hunting down all the ingredients for the Elixir. The easiest of these was plain white rice, which Dobby was more than happy to provide them with. The hardest was still hanging on Pigwidgeon's return.
Hedwig returned first, however. At breakfast on the fifth day after Hermione's death-and-resurrection, she had swooped into the Great Hall, bearing a rather flat package. He petted her gratefully and slipped it into his pocket while she helped herself to one of his sausage links.
Back in the dormitory, he frantically ripped the paper off to find a box. Opening the lid, he found seven gleaming white feathers, all in pristine condition, and under that, lying on the velvet-lined bottom, were a pair of extremely handsome rings: two thin bands of silver tightly intertwining one gold band.
"There's a letter Spellotaped to the inside of the lid," Ron said.
Harry laid the rings aside and opened it hurriedly.
Dear Harry,
I can't imagine what you'd want with wedding bands, but I do hope you're behaving yourself! You've not been sneaking girls up to your dormitory, have you? I pray an owl bearing a birth announcement doesn't arrive next! Of course, that still doesn't explain your need for the feathers. Either way, I'm glad to have helped, and you can certainly count on me for anything else you may need.
Moony
"Lupin's a stand-up chap, isn't he?" Ron said, grinning. Harry's mouth was also stretched into a wide smile as he bent to further examine the artifacts.
~*~
One small event interrupted their otherwise smooth plotting. Colin Creevey, a student having stepped on him in the halls, had turned up in the hospital wing with a broken toe. Immediately upon seeing Hermione, he started taking pictures, and though Hermione and Ron seemed ready to tear him a new one, Harry said that they would actually pose for his camera - IF they got every last photograph, and had his assurance that none would find their way into anyone else's hands. Colin hastily agreed, and several semi-poignant snapshots were taken... though Hermione adamantly refused to smile.
Pigwidgeon didn't deliver his letter until Friday, two days later, having had a lot further to travel. The normally-hyper owl was positively exhausted, and gave one tired hoot before heading for the Owlery.
"Well, he obviously hasn't sent the heart on," Ron mumbled, looking at the envelope. Harry, also uneasy, opened it.
Harry,
What you are asking of me is impossible. I'm sorry, I would really love to help, but I just can't see any way of doing it; all of our dragons are quite precious to us. It pains me to tell you this, and I'm deeply sorry to hear that Hermione's sick. I hope Madam Pomfrey will find some other means of curing her.
Charlie
"Git," Ron snapped. "I'd like to see her come up with something better than what we've got."
"This isn't over," Harry whispered, glancing warily over at Ginny, who had looked up at Ron's harsh outburst. "We'll make him understand, we'll make him try harder."
"And just how are we gonna do that? Send him a Howler?"
His face was set. "We'll do one better. We're going to Romania."
~*~
Harry and Ron were quite startled to find Ginny and Neville in the common room when they went downstairs late that night.
"What-?"
"You're not going off alone," Ginny said, hands on her hips.
"But we're not going anywhere!" Ron lied. It was a feeble one, at that; he had his Cleansweep slung over his shoulder, and Harry had his Firebolt. They were both wearing heavy traveling cloaks.
"Do we look that thick?" Neville said, glaring. "You two have been acting weird all week. We know it's got something to do with Hermione."
Ginny held up a handful of peach-tinted string. Harry and Ron exchanged a dark glance. Just how much had they overheard?
"What's all this plotting about?" Ginny pleaded. "You can trust us, can't you?"
"We don't want you getting chucked out, too," Ron said.
"TELL US!!!" they both shouted.
"Shh!" Ron hissed. "D'you-"
"The game's up, Ron," Harry breathed resignedly, walking across the dark common room and flopping into a chair. If they kept shouting at each other, the whole castle would wake up, and then they'd REALLY be in it; seemed a wiser move to let the cat out now and avoid piercing glares and accusations. "Hermione is dying."
"WHAT?!" they hissed, barely able to keep from hollering again.
"Well, really, she's already dead," Ron said, clutching his broom uneasily. "Except... not. It's a bit hard to explain..."
"What are you babbling about?!" Ginny hissed. "This isn't funny!"
"No, it isn't," Harry muttered.
"Then why are you saying such horrible things?!"
"Because it's the truth. If we don't get hold of a, er... special item soon - and by soon, I mean less than a week - Hermione's not going to make it."
Neville and Ginny's faces fell, and they sat down silently, staring off into space. Ron and Harry exchanged depressed looks.
"We're going with you," Neville whispered.
"We told you, we don't want-"
"You haven't got a choice," Ginny continued. "If you don't let us go, we'll just follow you, anyway. Hermione's our friend, too, and we're not going to let her die if there's anything we can do to prevent it."
Harry sighed, pulling at his hair. He knew this speech - it had been given almost exactly a year ago, by the exact same people. He also knew it was futile to try and put them off their determined course.
"Fine, forget I said anything. Let's just be off, we don't have time to spare."
~*~
The Hogwarts grounds seemed as dark as ever they had as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and a reluctant Hermione stepped outside. The half-moon kept drifting behind the sparse clouds, and the stars seemed far dimmer than usual.
"I still don't think I should go," Hermione whispered. "I ought to just stay in bed, what if I'm dangerous, or-"
"Bollocks," Harry breathed as he eased the giant oaken doors closed. "You're as dangerous as Fang."
She smiled, but definitely still held her misgivings.
"Now, how the bloody hell are we all going to manage with only three brooms?" Ron whispered. Ginny had retrieved hers from her room before they set off - she and Neville had also donned warmer garments.
"Well, we'll just have to double up," Harry said. "Hermione can ride on mine, and I guess Neville can ride with-"
"Look!" Hermione shrieked. Harry grimaced at how careless she was being with her volume, then saw what she meant.
Luna Lovegood was riding casually across the grounds toward them, perched atop a thestral. Its skeletal, dragon-like head bobbed up and down as it gamboled, ghostly eyes staring forward, and the sparse black hairs covering it did nothing to conceal the bones underneath. Its huge, leathery wings were folded to its sides.
"Good evening," she said pleasantly. "Out for a midnight fly, I see. So am I." She patted the head of the horse-like creature, and it tossed its mane. Ginny was the only one who looked unnerved; to her eyes, Luna was floating in midair, petting nothing.
"Horrid-looking things." Ron looked as if he'd just been handed a jar of Stinksap and told it was the only thing he could drink for a year. "I'd almost rather they were still invisible."
"I- I can see them, now," Hermione whispered. "It's because... because I'm dead, isn't it?"
Neville and Ginny spun to look at her at once, their reactions rivaling the one they'd had upon seeing her ghastly appearance several minutes ago. Luna, more slowly, also looked at her.
"DEAD?!" Ginny hissed. "But you just said she was GOING to die, not that she's already there! How can she be up and about if she's deceased?!"
"She's undead," Ron whispered. "I tried to say as much earlier..."
Neville sputtered. "Wait, you- you mean she's a-"
"Zombie," Harry finished.
"Wow," Luna breathed. "I don't believe I've ever met a zombie before..."
Harry noticed at that moment that Hermione was on the verge of a breakdown. It dawned on him how horrible it would be to have people standing around talking about your untimely demise like that.
"Let's just get on with it, alright?" he said hastily.
"This may just be the ticket," Neville whispered. "I mean, instead of doubling up on the brooms, the rest of us can just take thestrals! I mean, we can all see them, now!"
"I can't!" Ginny wailed.
"That's not half bad, Neville," Harry said. "Luna, can you call two more thestrals for us?"
"Of course," she said, and she began making a sort of clicking noise with her mouth. Harry was not quite sure how to describe it, but it sounded kind of wet and ghastly. After a minute or two, however, a thestral emerged from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, another one closely thereafter.
"Good work, thanks, Luna!" She beamed at him, then turned to watch as the two beasts trotted lazily toward them. Luna sped this process up considerably by holding out a raw steak, which the light breeze carried to their nostrils. They quickly moved in on it, and when they reached her began licking the blood from the meat.
"Alright, let's get this over with, as I'm sure the moment everybody wakes up they'll send out a search party." Harry was already astride his broom. "Well, saddle up, Neville. You, too, Hermione."
As nervous as he could tell she was, he knew she didn't hold any mistrust in these creatures. The thestrals had served them well last year, and were about to do so tonight.
"Neville, you're going to take point. Ron can tell your thestral where it's going, he's been there before. After that, he can take up the rear. Hermione's going to stay in the center, right on Neville's heels. Ginny and I can be the wingmen - er, wingpersons." He vaguely realized he sounded like Mad-Eye, which made him appreciate the methods in the old Auror's madness.
"What about me?" Luna asked.
Harry blinked. "Eh?"
"I'm going along, too, aren't I? Only I provided half your transportation, and it's not fair to make me stay behind."
They sighed collectively, and Harry spoke. "Oh, all right, but this is the limit - I swear, if Dean or somebody comes pelting out of the forest on a flying carpet, I'm going to Stun him. Six is more than enough. You can fly above us and scout, I guess."
Harry passed out five pairs of goggles, as he knew it would be a long, rough trip, and the biting wind would surely close their eyes eventually. Ginny used her wand to duplicate her pair, and tossed the newly-conjured one to Luna. As the uneasy sextet prepared for liftoff, Hermione stopped them.
"This is a little something that might just keep us from getting reamed upon our return." She withdrew her wand, swept it in a wide circle, and said, "Acceleratus!"
Nothing. They all blinked, waiting for something spectacular, but all that happened was a quiet snort from one of the thestrals.
"I told you," she whispered. "The Gem doesn't know me anymore, and neither does my wand. I'm the world's biggest fib."
Harry stepped from his broom and went over to her, patting her forearm.
"It'll be okay, Hermione. We'll bring you back and everything'll be fine. Don't worry so much. But what was that spell you were trying to do?"
"Acceleratus Charm. It's supposed to make moving objects double their speed. I thought... maybe we could cut our flight time in half."
"Let me have a go with it, then." Harry withdrew his own wand and repeated her gesture and incantation. A feeble golden dust settled over them, making their cloaks and mounts sparkle dully.
"Er... did I do it right?"
"Well, it's not as bright as it should be, but yes, I'm sure we'll be getting some manner of speed boost now. At least, for a few hours, anyway." She still looked quite put out about her wand as she stowed it, and Harry found his heart had sunken slightly out of empathy.
"Here," Harry said, handing her one of the rings.
"What's this for?"
"It's one of the ingredients."
"I know that, you showed me the list," she said impatiently. "I mean... why are you handing it to me?"
"To remind you of why we're doing all this." His voice was quiet and soothing - so much that only she could hear it. "To remind you of why I'M doing this. You hang onto that ring for the time being, and every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I would do anything for you... lie, cheat, steal... keep a secret... even fly to Romania to prise open a dragon's chest cavity. You are more than worth this, Hermione. I don't want you to ever think otherwise."
She smiled blearily, onyx eyes shining with gratitude, and slipped the ring onto her pale finger. The silver and maize hues shimmered elegantly in the starlight.
"Thank you," she whispered as she slipped her arms carefully around her thestral's neck.
"Of course." As his hand went to his pocket, he felt the band's mate, and unconsciously threaded his finger through it.
"Whoa, WHOA!"
"Neville!"
His thestral was beginning to trot back toward the forest, evidently bored with all the idle chatter.
"Ron, get on with it!"
"Oh, right!" Ron jumped off his broom and sprinted toward the ghastly creature.
"Ready, now," he told the others as he hurriedly remounted his Firebolt.
Ron spoke loudly and clearly, as if worrying the beast was deaf. "Thirteen Fifteen, Trebuchet Lane! Er... in Romania!"
And the twinkling adventurers were soaring through the night sky.
~*~ To Be Continued