Fic: September Morn (Part Six)
As promised, here is the next bit of what was supposed to be a quick short story, but which has turned into something else. I hope you enjoy it ... comment is always welcome.
Part One ... Part Two ... Part Three ... Part Four ... Part Five
September Morn
A post-Hogwarts H/D story
Rating PG (at the moment)
Part Six of Possibly Nine
Beta-ed by the Lovely olivia_lupin
********************
“Harry ... thank goodness you’re finally awake.”
Blinking against the light flooding in through an almost floor-to-ceiling window, Harry finally managed to focus blurrily on the person leaning over his bed. “Hermione?” he tried to move, but his arms and legs felt heavy, as if they were tied down.
“Whoa, Harry, don’t try to move too quickly. You’ve had a nasty fall and Madam Pomfrey said you might feel really light-headed and unsteady.”
He stared at woman for a moment, something niggling at the back of his mind, but the thought got lost as she pushed his fringe from his face. The gesture seemed so familiar ... so Hermione. Finally managing a small smile, he repeated her name, this time with more confidence. “Hermione.”
“Yes.” She kept up the gentle petting. “God, Harry, you had us all so worried. We thought we’d lost you.” The concern on her face spoke volumes.
“I just....” His throat felt like a bucket of sand had been poured down it and with a cough he tried to clear it. “Water ... please.”
Quickly, Hermione reached for a glass then helped Harry to raise his head. “Not too much to begin with.”
He sipped at the cool water and then let his head drop back to the pillows. “Thanks.” Everything seemed a little blurred and it took Harry a moment to realise he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He tried to raise his arm.
“No, take it easy.”
“My glasses.”
“Sorry, but you lost them. We’re trying to get a replacement pair for you.”
“Oh, right.” He felt like he hadn’t spoken for days ... weeks. “What happened?”
“You’re going to have to tell us that.” Keeping hold of Harry’s right hand, Hermione perched on the edge of the bed. “You turned up here all battered and bruised flying on a broom that shouldn’t even have gotten off the ground, let alone flown. Madam Pomfrey spent hours putting you back together again.”
Harry frowned. There it was again. That niggling feeling in the back of his mind. “Draco ... I need to see him. Was he hurt?”
“Draco hurt? Why would he have been hurt? He was with the others when they found you though. Maybe that’s what you’re remembering.”
“He rescued me?”
“Rescue?”
“I was....” Harry frowned. “I was caught after the mission. Lucius....” He took a deep breath. “Lucius Malfoy had me prisoner. I think I was at Malfoy Manor.”
She squeezed his hand and, raising it to her lips, quickly kissed one fingertip. “Yes, you were there, Harry, but you weren’t caught. You were injured getting away from the Manor.”
“I was?”
“Yes. You left here yesterday to try and retrieve the two artefacts ... the sphere and the wand. We’d found out that Lucius had them and you decided we had to get them from him. We don’t know what actually happened, but you did manage to tell us that you got both items and that you were injured while getting away.”
“But Draco ... he was with me.”
“He wasn’t, Harry. You went on your own.”
“I was?”
“Yes. And Draco’s been here all the time. He’s with Melissa and Leo at the moment.”
Harry realised he was staring at her as he tried to get his befuddled mind into gear. Had it really only been yesterday that he’d gone to Malfoy Manor to try and steal the two crystal artefacts? It seemed like days ago. And his roller-coaster escape and then capture seemed so real.
“Harry, you hit your head. Madam Pomfrey said it might affect your memory.” She rubbed gently at his arm. “What do you remember?”
He sighed. “Why can’t I move, Hermione? What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s nothing. I promise. We used a potion to stop from you moving about because of your injuries. It should wear off in a few hours.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “Harry, it’s important that you try and remember what happened. When we found you, you said you’d managed to get the artefacts, but they weren’t with you. Did you hide them?”
“No.... Look, Hermione, I’m confused. I don’t remember anything that you’ve said. What I remember was that I went with Draco because he knew his way around the Manor -- it’s his home for God’s sake. We managed to find the crystals, but I got caught and....” He tried to sit up, both fear and anger building. “And I need you to go find Draco for me. Right now!”
“What happened to the sphere and the wand, Harry?”
Harry stared at her for a long time, trying to identify the persistent niggling feeling. Something wasn’t right, he knew that. He remembered being in a dungeon and the dining room at Malfoy Manor. And there was something else that couldn’t be a dream or even a nightmare. He could still feel the after-effects of the Cruciatus curses Lucius had used on him ... and the Veritaserum ... and the other ... things the older man had done.
His body still hurt from them and.... Harry’s eyes opened wide as he remembered the man stamping on his left hand. He tried to turn his head to see the hand but it was tucked under the blanket out of sight. Maybe if he tried to move it.
“You tell me,” he finally replied.
“I can’t; I don’t know where they are. But you do, and you need to try to remember. It’s important, Harry. If Voldemort gets his hands on those artefacts again ... if he finally uses them....”
He managed a lop-sided smile, but there was no humour in the expression. “But he can’t use them can he? Only Gryffindor’s heir can do that.”
“What? Oh yes, I know ... but if he gets them back, he could stop you.”
“True.” He shifted slightly, trying to relieve a knot of pain radiating from a point on his thigh.
“Are you okay? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?”
The niggling feeling suddenly solidified. Hermione had called Poppy ‘Madam Pomfrey’.
She hadn’t called the nurse that in years.
He glanced quickly around the small room. It was a perfectly ordinary room that could be anywhere and he recognised bits and pieces, like the fireplace and the red curtains with gold stars. Everything was familiar and yet it seemed out of place. The curtains were like those that surrounded his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. And the fireplace looked like one he remembered at the Burrow. Even the bed was like the one he’d spent so much time in while hospitalised during his school days.
Harry finally clutched at the blankets with his left hand and he let out a hiss of pain at the movement. The pain was real enough and yet....
It was like someone had constructed the room from bits and pieces of his memory. And this woman ... his best friend.... She’d kissed his fingers....
“Hermione....”
She pushed again at his hair. “Harry, please. This is really important.”
“I know. Look, I’m trying to remember what happened. Maybe it will all come clearer if you can help nudge it back into place. Hermione, do you remember your engagement party? When you danced with your father and he sang to you?”
“What? Harry, what’s that got to do with this?”
“Just humour me. What did he sing to you?”
“Harry....”
“It’s important, Hermione. You told me you’d never forget it. Especially after Voldemort killed him a few days later.” Harry tried to pull his hand away, but he couldn’t move it ... it felt like he was tied down.
“I don’t remember....”
“Of course you don’t, because you aren’t her! Is this another of your little tricks, Lucius?”
“No!”
“Looking into my mind and pulling out memories to make me think I’m home?”
“Harry ... please....”
“No! It won’t work. If you can’t remember what your dad said then you’re not my Hermione. Now get the fuck out of my head!”
The woman let go, stepping back, and Harry felt something like a shiver pass over him. It was as if he was being slowly lowered into a thick cold liquid and as it moved over him the room shifted. He was in the dungeon again, this time lying on a bench, and he couldn’t move because he was tied down.
********************
As Lucius stepped away from the bench, his fists were clenched and his lips set in thin-lipped annoyance. He paused in front of the figure standing in the shadows, deliberately not meeting the red eyes. “I’m sorry, Master. I thought I could fool him.”
Voldemort stepped into the room, studying the supine figure of the boy who had been his enemy for over twenty years. “The Boy is clever. Imagine what it would have been like if I’d taken him that night at Godric’s Hollow and raised him as my own. He would have been a worthy heir to Salazar Slytherin. But now....” He rested long bony fingers on Harry’s chest before pulling away as if he could pluck out the boy’s heart. Harry let out a sob of pain, squirming against the pressure. “He is nothing but a fallen hero ... the very last of Godric Gryffindor’s line.”
“What shall I do with him, Master?”
The Dark Lord turned away, heading for the door, which swung open as he approached. He didn’t look back as he spoke. “Do what you want, but keep him alive for now. I want my faithful Death Eaters to watch as the Boy Who Lived finally dies at my hand.”
********************
Harry shifted against the wood of the bench. It rubbed against his skin and he realised he was shivering with the cold.
Somewhere in the delirium that he knew was getting worse, he could hear Jonathan Granger singing to his daughter.
Look at what you’ve done ... Why, you’ve become a grown-up girl ... I still can hear you cryin’ ... In the corner of your room ... And look how far we’ve come ... So far from where we used to be ... But not so far that we’ve forgotten ... How it was before....
~~~ End of Part Six
29th September 2004
Lyrics - September Morn by Neil Diamond
Part One ... Part Two ... Part Three ... Part Four ... Part Five
September Morn
A post-Hogwarts H/D story
Rating PG (at the moment)
Part Six of Possibly Nine
Beta-ed by the Lovely olivia_lupin
********************
“Harry ... thank goodness you’re finally awake.”
Blinking against the light flooding in through an almost floor-to-ceiling window, Harry finally managed to focus blurrily on the person leaning over his bed. “Hermione?” he tried to move, but his arms and legs felt heavy, as if they were tied down.
“Whoa, Harry, don’t try to move too quickly. You’ve had a nasty fall and Madam Pomfrey said you might feel really light-headed and unsteady.”
He stared at woman for a moment, something niggling at the back of his mind, but the thought got lost as she pushed his fringe from his face. The gesture seemed so familiar ... so Hermione. Finally managing a small smile, he repeated her name, this time with more confidence. “Hermione.”
“Yes.” She kept up the gentle petting. “God, Harry, you had us all so worried. We thought we’d lost you.” The concern on her face spoke volumes.
“I just....” His throat felt like a bucket of sand had been poured down it and with a cough he tried to clear it. “Water ... please.”
Quickly, Hermione reached for a glass then helped Harry to raise his head. “Not too much to begin with.”
He sipped at the cool water and then let his head drop back to the pillows. “Thanks.” Everything seemed a little blurred and it took Harry a moment to realise he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He tried to raise his arm.
“No, take it easy.”
“My glasses.”
“Sorry, but you lost them. We’re trying to get a replacement pair for you.”
“Oh, right.” He felt like he hadn’t spoken for days ... weeks. “What happened?”
“You’re going to have to tell us that.” Keeping hold of Harry’s right hand, Hermione perched on the edge of the bed. “You turned up here all battered and bruised flying on a broom that shouldn’t even have gotten off the ground, let alone flown. Madam Pomfrey spent hours putting you back together again.”
Harry frowned. There it was again. That niggling feeling in the back of his mind. “Draco ... I need to see him. Was he hurt?”
“Draco hurt? Why would he have been hurt? He was with the others when they found you though. Maybe that’s what you’re remembering.”
“He rescued me?”
“Rescue?”
“I was....” Harry frowned. “I was caught after the mission. Lucius....” He took a deep breath. “Lucius Malfoy had me prisoner. I think I was at Malfoy Manor.”
She squeezed his hand and, raising it to her lips, quickly kissed one fingertip. “Yes, you were there, Harry, but you weren’t caught. You were injured getting away from the Manor.”
“I was?”
“Yes. You left here yesterday to try and retrieve the two artefacts ... the sphere and the wand. We’d found out that Lucius had them and you decided we had to get them from him. We don’t know what actually happened, but you did manage to tell us that you got both items and that you were injured while getting away.”
“But Draco ... he was with me.”
“He wasn’t, Harry. You went on your own.”
“I was?”
“Yes. And Draco’s been here all the time. He’s with Melissa and Leo at the moment.”
Harry realised he was staring at her as he tried to get his befuddled mind into gear. Had it really only been yesterday that he’d gone to Malfoy Manor to try and steal the two crystal artefacts? It seemed like days ago. And his roller-coaster escape and then capture seemed so real.
“Harry, you hit your head. Madam Pomfrey said it might affect your memory.” She rubbed gently at his arm. “What do you remember?”
He sighed. “Why can’t I move, Hermione? What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s nothing. I promise. We used a potion to stop from you moving about because of your injuries. It should wear off in a few hours.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “Harry, it’s important that you try and remember what happened. When we found you, you said you’d managed to get the artefacts, but they weren’t with you. Did you hide them?”
“No.... Look, Hermione, I’m confused. I don’t remember anything that you’ve said. What I remember was that I went with Draco because he knew his way around the Manor -- it’s his home for God’s sake. We managed to find the crystals, but I got caught and....” He tried to sit up, both fear and anger building. “And I need you to go find Draco for me. Right now!”
“What happened to the sphere and the wand, Harry?”
Harry stared at her for a long time, trying to identify the persistent niggling feeling. Something wasn’t right, he knew that. He remembered being in a dungeon and the dining room at Malfoy Manor. And there was something else that couldn’t be a dream or even a nightmare. He could still feel the after-effects of the Cruciatus curses Lucius had used on him ... and the Veritaserum ... and the other ... things the older man had done.
His body still hurt from them and.... Harry’s eyes opened wide as he remembered the man stamping on his left hand. He tried to turn his head to see the hand but it was tucked under the blanket out of sight. Maybe if he tried to move it.
“You tell me,” he finally replied.
“I can’t; I don’t know where they are. But you do, and you need to try to remember. It’s important, Harry. If Voldemort gets his hands on those artefacts again ... if he finally uses them....”
He managed a lop-sided smile, but there was no humour in the expression. “But he can’t use them can he? Only Gryffindor’s heir can do that.”
“What? Oh yes, I know ... but if he gets them back, he could stop you.”
“True.” He shifted slightly, trying to relieve a knot of pain radiating from a point on his thigh.
“Are you okay? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?”
The niggling feeling suddenly solidified. Hermione had called Poppy ‘Madam Pomfrey’.
She hadn’t called the nurse that in years.
He glanced quickly around the small room. It was a perfectly ordinary room that could be anywhere and he recognised bits and pieces, like the fireplace and the red curtains with gold stars. Everything was familiar and yet it seemed out of place. The curtains were like those that surrounded his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. And the fireplace looked like one he remembered at the Burrow. Even the bed was like the one he’d spent so much time in while hospitalised during his school days.
Harry finally clutched at the blankets with his left hand and he let out a hiss of pain at the movement. The pain was real enough and yet....
It was like someone had constructed the room from bits and pieces of his memory. And this woman ... his best friend.... She’d kissed his fingers....
“Hermione....”
She pushed again at his hair. “Harry, please. This is really important.”
“I know. Look, I’m trying to remember what happened. Maybe it will all come clearer if you can help nudge it back into place. Hermione, do you remember your engagement party? When you danced with your father and he sang to you?”
“What? Harry, what’s that got to do with this?”
“Just humour me. What did he sing to you?”
“Harry....”
“It’s important, Hermione. You told me you’d never forget it. Especially after Voldemort killed him a few days later.” Harry tried to pull his hand away, but he couldn’t move it ... it felt like he was tied down.
“I don’t remember....”
“Of course you don’t, because you aren’t her! Is this another of your little tricks, Lucius?”
“No!”
“Looking into my mind and pulling out memories to make me think I’m home?”
“Harry ... please....”
“No! It won’t work. If you can’t remember what your dad said then you’re not my Hermione. Now get the fuck out of my head!”
The woman let go, stepping back, and Harry felt something like a shiver pass over him. It was as if he was being slowly lowered into a thick cold liquid and as it moved over him the room shifted. He was in the dungeon again, this time lying on a bench, and he couldn’t move because he was tied down.
********************
As Lucius stepped away from the bench, his fists were clenched and his lips set in thin-lipped annoyance. He paused in front of the figure standing in the shadows, deliberately not meeting the red eyes. “I’m sorry, Master. I thought I could fool him.”
Voldemort stepped into the room, studying the supine figure of the boy who had been his enemy for over twenty years. “The Boy is clever. Imagine what it would have been like if I’d taken him that night at Godric’s Hollow and raised him as my own. He would have been a worthy heir to Salazar Slytherin. But now....” He rested long bony fingers on Harry’s chest before pulling away as if he could pluck out the boy’s heart. Harry let out a sob of pain, squirming against the pressure. “He is nothing but a fallen hero ... the very last of Godric Gryffindor’s line.”
“What shall I do with him, Master?”
The Dark Lord turned away, heading for the door, which swung open as he approached. He didn’t look back as he spoke. “Do what you want, but keep him alive for now. I want my faithful Death Eaters to watch as the Boy Who Lived finally dies at my hand.”
********************
Harry shifted against the wood of the bench. It rubbed against his skin and he realised he was shivering with the cold.
Somewhere in the delirium that he knew was getting worse, he could hear Jonathan Granger singing to his daughter.
Look at what you’ve done ... Why, you’ve become a grown-up girl ... I still can hear you cryin’ ... In the corner of your room ... And look how far we’ve come ... So far from where we used to be ... But not so far that we’ve forgotten ... How it was before....
~~~ End of Part Six
29th September 2004
Lyrics - September Morn by Neil Diamond