Dusty Death

Summary:

A mystery plagues Hogwarts during Harry’s (now AU) fifth year. When one nasty Professor ends up dead, who does the Ministry end up blaming? Is this person the real culprit, or is he/she still on the loose? A different type of mystery; one where we, the readers, know more than anyone in the story.

Disclaimer:

No one belongs to me…. Just playing with the creations of the great J.K Rowling!

Rating:

Pg 13 – Implied Violence

Genre:

Mystery/Romance

Chapter 2:

Promises

            If Harry thought his first day was horrible, the next one would just shatter the moon entirely. The weather was already foreshadowing the events of the day: rainy and gloomy with no signs of Hagrid anywhere.

            “But on the plus side, no Snape today,” Ron said bracingly.

            Hermione yawned widely, rubbed her seemingly sore and dry eyes and poured herself some coffee. Even though she was thoroughly tired she seemed quite happy about something. Ron questioned this and Hermione simply said, “The hats have gone. Seems the house elves do want freedom after all.”

            “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Ron told her cuttingly. “They might not count as clothes. They didn’t look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders.”

            For the rest of the breakfast, Hermione refused to utter a word to him.

            Harry was beginning to tire of these repeated petty arguments which Hermione and Ron insisted on doing every time they met up. And because of this, Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable as he continued to eat his small breakfast, looking up at the many owls zooming in through the windows. As his emerald eyes passed over the different coloured birds, he caught sight of an empty chair.

            “What happened to Umbridge?” Harry asked no one in particular, Hermione looked up from her breakfast at the question and looked up at the staff table. Only to see the same empty spot.

            “Maybe she wasn’t that pleased with our … participation yesterday.” She suggested, shrugging at Harry before returning to breakfast.

            That didn’t close the case for Harry. “You … you don’t think anything’s happened to her?” He asked as he noticed Ginny walk into the Great Hall, looking even more tired than Hermione. He absently waved to her, seeing Ron follow suit.

            “I don’t think so, though why should we be concerned eh?” Ron said.

            Hermione broke their stubborn silence by issuing another argument. “Harry’s concern is well established, Ronald Weasley.” She said coldly and Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

            “What’re you babbling ab-” Harry was with Ron really, he had no idea what Hermione was talking about.

            “He’s not concerned for her safety, but rather for Hogwarts. Seeing as if Umbridge is harmed in any way, the Ministry will be quick to blame Dumbledore and Harry especially. Am I right, Harry?”

            “Er … yeah … yeah, of course, Hermione!” He said quickly, seeing the truth in what Hermione was saying.

            “See, Ron? Harry’s got it figured out.” Even though she said this quite firmly, Hermione eyed him for a mere moment, which told him that she could sense he was thinking in another direction.

            Like it was difficult to see through…. Harry thought sarcastically as his two friends begun arguing once more. He tuned out of it, finding his gaze moving up to the long staff table at the back of the Great Hall.

            There was Snape, looking quite chary as he chatted with Professor Sinistra, who seemed to fall out of the conversation every time Snape opened his mouth to comment. Harry watched as Dumbledore was fingering his food idly, looking quite bored. He waved a hand and Harry watched as one of his hard boiled eggs lifted itself into the air and fell into his open mouth. At seeing this, McGonagall (who was seated next to him) eyed him sternly, but made no verbal comment.

            “Come on, Harry!” Harry suddenly felt Hermione grab him by his left armpit and, with surprising strength, lifted him from his seat. “We’ve got double charms now!” Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was only quarter after eight. (Classes didn’t start until nine o’clock).

            “Eh?” Harry blurted out, still in a daze from when he watched the staff members of Hogwarts, but now even more from seeing what time it was. Hermione rolled her eyes and started off.

            Harry looked at Ron for an explanation, but he just shook his head and finished his breakfast. Sighing at their pettiness, Harry rushed off in an attempt to calm her down. He found her walking speedily towards the stairs that led to the upper floors.

            “Her – Hermione!” She continued to walk on, ignoring his cries. He shook his head, not knowing whether to continue on or go back to Ron.

            She’s mad about something…. Parvati didn’t say anything. Now’s your chance to figure out what’s bugging her. He stopped in front of the door that was just slammed by her, finding his heart beating faster than normal. It’s just Hermione…. Just keep going….

            He rushed up the stairs, finding her walking up and up, past the third floor where their Charms classroom was. He didn’t have time to figure out why she was skipping the third floor. He tried calling to her, but she continued going up, past the many students filing down the winding staircase, coming down to breakfast. He noticed, as he glanced upward, that she stepped into the fourth floor corridor, his curiosity perked up and he followed her there.

            Once he had passed the threshold, he saw her open and shut another door. Rushing after her, he slipped on something that felt oddly like a used banana peel. And when he heard the howls of laughter, he knew it was what he had felt.

            “OOOOH, POTTY WOTTY TRIPPED!” He heard the familiar catcalls that were Peeves’s voice. “CALL THE DAILY PROPHET, MAYBE HE’S GOT ANOTHER SCAR!” Cackling with laughter, the poltergeist soared off up the stairs Harry had just climbed up.

            Grumbling as he rose from the floor, he burnt the used banana peel and looked around, noticing no one, but the many portraits who all looked away with smart grins on their faces.

            Opening the door Hermione had just dashed through, he saw a couple of ghosts glide along, chatting about something, in front of the door.

            “What a frightful girl, eh?” One of them spoke in a pompous tone.

            “I say, Bingly, what was that all about?” His partner asked rhetorically. “And what’s she going in number twenty-nine for then?”

            Harry’s ears perked up as he entered the hall, unbeknownst to the ghosts.

            “I’ve never liked that room much…. Always gave me the chills, even when I was alive.”

            The other ghost chuckled. “Well, the Headmaster has closed it with good reason! If a ghost gets chills from going in there, then there must be something wrong with the room!”

            Chuckling even more, the ghosts glided through the door at the far end of the hall that led to the courtyard. Harry seized his chance, and rushed to the door of classroom number eleven, opening the door.

            “Bloody hell, Hermione!” He said through his teeth when he found the door was locked. He stepped back and took out his wand. “Alohamora!” The door unlocked and sprung open.

            Harry rushed into the room and looked around, finding no one there. “Hermione!” He screamed into the eerie, darkened, room. It was then that he remembered that this was the room.

            The feeling that he had not felt since his first year rushed through his bones. This was the room that had, at one point, kept the Mirror of Erised safe from prying eyes.

            Forgetting about Hermione for a moment, Harry stepped through the room, feeling his way using the wall (there wasn’t any form of lighting in the room), he found the back of the room, but there was no mirror there.

            “Of course it wouldn’t be here…” He muttered to himself, feeling a bit bitter about no finding the mirror. It would be nice to see his parents in human flesh once more, rather than in the spirit/ghost like forms that he had seen them in the previous year.

            He collapsed to the floor. Gazing at the floor for a few minutes while his mind revisited the graveyard once more.

            “You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?” Harry remembered the red eyes glinting through the darkness, directed right at him. “We bow to each other, Harry. Come, the niceties must be observed … Dumbledore would like you to show manners … bow to death, Harry….”

            The laughter of the circle of Death Eaters echoed eerily around the small room. Harry covered his ears in an attempt to block out the voices.

            “I said, bow,” Harry felt the skin on his back crawl, remembering how Voldemort used his magic to make Harry bow to him. “Very good, and now you face me, like a man … straight-backed and proud, the way your father died.”

            “And now – we duel.”

            “Harry?” The Boy-who-lived’s breath stopped as the voices halted in his mind, and he returned back to reality. He stood up, turning around to see Hermione peering at him, her eyes reddened.

            Without knowing what he was doing, he rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t … I can’t stand it, Hermione….”

            “Oh, Harry….” She said softly as she ran one of her hands down his back, succeeding in comforting him. “I’m so sorry….”

            He pushed back from his best friend and looked into her honey coloured eyes, letting go of her. “”What’d you mean…?”

            “Well, I ... you came here for me, but ended up remembering….” She trailed off, stepping back as if she suddenly realized how close the two of them were.

            Harry then remembered why he had followed her all the way up here. “Umm … are you … are you alright, Hermione?”

            She peered at him curiously. “Well, I guess I’ve been better….” She walked over to the wall opposite of the, now shut, door and sat down, leaning against the wall. She patted the floor next to her, indicating that Harry should sit there.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as he sat down, fiddling with a pebble on the ground.

            She laughed, but Harry couldn’t hear the usual merriness that accompanied the laughter. “It’s kind of hard too…. You understand right?” Harry nodded slightly. “I’m alright, don’t worry… Just, this is our OWL year…. You had the whole hearing thing during the summer…. My parents are beginning to reconsider Hogwarts….”

            “Wait, what?” Harry said after her last comment, she looked up at him and nodded solemnly.

            “They … they’re worried about me. I – I told them what had happened last year. After you told us everything, I mean….” She took a deep breath and turned away from Harry, finding the floor much more interesting at that moment. “Every time I come home from school, I tell my parents what I did that year. This … this year was no exception.”

            “Oh,” Harry didn’t know what else to say, he found his brain had turned off. And what Hermione had said earlier kept repeating in his head; over and over again.

            “My parents are beginning to reconsider Hogwarts…. My parents are beginning to reconsider Hogwarts…. My parents are….”

            “I had to practically beg my parents to let me come to Hogwarts…. They were planning everything for me, apparently even my marriage, but now the prospect of marrying a witch is not … well, not really an asset if you know what I mean.” Hermione chuckled as Harry continued to hear the same line in his head.

            “You can’t leave.” Harry stated simply. At hearing this, Hermione peered up at him with a questioning look on his face.

            “Oh, can’t do your homework without me?” She snorted and turned back to the floor. “That’s all I am to Ron, he’s not helping me right no-”

            Harry’s brain turned the ignition, and the gears begun to work once more. “You remember our third year?” Hermione turned back to him once more, and sighed.

            “Sadly, I do… It was a … an interesting year, to say the least.” She snorted again and looked back at the floor.

            “You were taking every possible class…. And yet, you continued to try to help me with … with everything, really….” His gaze was torn away from Hermione once the gears in his head started slowing down. “And … err … I, guess I need that support; now more than ever.”

            The two of them were silent for a moment; before Hermione laid her head on Harry’s left shoulder, sighing blissfully. “Thanks, Harry.” She said softly.

            “Err … you’re – you’re welcome.” The gears had halted, but Harry’s heart beat seemed to quicken considerably.

            “Hey, will you promise me something?” She said, suddenly standing up.

            “Umm … sure?”

            She smiled at him earnestly. “After this year is over, can you come and … and convince my parents….” She stopped and looked away with a blush on her small face. “No, forget it, its stupid….”

            “No, no…” Harry rose from the ground and found out that he was only a couple of inches taller than Hermione, but she still seemed so small and innocent as he looked down at her. “I’ll do it…. You and Ron…. I have a feeling that I’m going to need the both of you more than ever…. And besides….” Harry smiled.

            “What?” She asked after a moment of silence.

            “Someone has to keep a hold on his leash.”

~*~

            Arriving at his Charms class in time was a feat only Harry could pull off (due to his amazing luck).  And luckily Hermione was able to keep at his toes as they dashed down a floor and through one of the longest corridors in the entire castle, only to arrive at the classroom; finding all its occupants waiting outside for the Professor.

            “Is that him coming?” Harry heard the distinctive voice of Dean Thomas as he continued to run, but at a slower pace, now that he knew Flitwick wasn’t there yet.

            “Nah, mate, it’s just Harry and Hermione.” Neville told him. “Why’re you two so late?” He added when they arrived at the crowd in front of the classroom.

            Harry shook his head and, luckily, Neville and Dean got the idea and dismissed the topic. “Flitwick’s not here yet?” Harry asked rhetorically.

            “Apparently not,” Hermione chipped in, leaning against the stone wall next to the door, eying Parvati and Lavender at the other end of the hall. It appeared as if Hermione thought herself better than gossiping about the latest boy, though when they glanced at Harry and begun to giggle wildly Hermione’s frown deepened.

            “Wonder why….” Dean muttered as he mirrored Hermione’s stance against his section of the wall. “Bloody hell, he’s late…”

            “Two and half minutes, Dean,” Hermione chided after looking at her wrist watch, which Harry had never actually noticed before. “Its not like Voldemort’s found a brother.”

            This blunt remark was met by a long, awkward silence from the four fifth year Gryffindors. Harry begun to eye Hermione for a moment, and found that she looked utterly relaxed, her back aligned with the wall and her fingers drumming lightly on the stone. It seemed as though she didn’t give a damn that she just scared Neville and Dean.

            “Oi, Flitwick’s coming!” Ron said from behind Harry, startling him slightly. “Where were you two?” He added questionably, looking from Harry and Hermione. Harry was about to answer when Flitwick lumbered over toward him. He gave Ron a pointed look that said he would tell him later.

            “Class, may I have your attention please?” Flitwick, being as small as he was, was having difficulty gathering the attention of the class, even with his escort’s (Ronald Weasley) call. “Class?!” Flitwick squeaked once more, finally gaining the attention. “Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “A crisis has occurred, and the Headmaster has asked all students to be escorted to their dormitories by their Prefects. Luckily, the two Prefects of your year are right here, so you may return to your dormitories immediately.”

            This statement was replied with an eerily long silence from the Gryffindor students. They all remembered something like this occurring during their school time. It was in their second year, when the Chamber of Secrets had opened up and released the foul Basilisk, who petrified several students, but luckily didn’t kill any of them.

            The students began filing out of the corridor and onto the staircase. Harry was about to follow Ron and Hermione with the rest of his classmates, but was stopped by one of Flitwick’s tiny hands, gripping his wrist.

            “I’m sorry, Mr Potter. You’ll have to follow me, Professor Dumbledore asked me to bring you to him.” Flitwick’s usual jolly expression was absent from his visage at this point. He looked back at Ron and Hermione, who were waiting for him with anxious faces. Sadly, he shook his head and put on an apologetic face as he followed Flitwick in the opposite direction of the rest of his year.

            “Harry!” Hermione rushed to him, despite Fliwick’s protests, but she seemed to forget whatever she wanted to say as soon as she reached him. She was just standing in front of him, her honey brown eyes searching his for the truth.

            “It’s alright, Hermione….” Harry couldn’t help but think he was saying this to himself just as much as he was saying it to Hermione. “I’ll … I’ll be okay…. They just want to ask a couple of questions….”

            Hermione was trembling tremendously as she continued to gaze at Harry, knowing that she wouldn’t be seeing him for some time.

            “It’s alright, Ms Granger.” Flitwick said, putting a hand on her back as softly as he could. Harry somehow doubted that Hermione could actually feel his hand, it was that soft. “It is as Mr Potter says; they just want to ask the Boy-who-lived a couple of questions….”

            All three of them knew that this was a lie, but it was covered with a delicate shield of innocence. “Remember, Harry….” Hermione said, still trembling. “You promised me…. You promised….”

            “I know, Hermione.” Harry said, placing one of his own hands on her shoulder. “I’m going to be okay….”

            With that said, Flitwick and Harry left Hermione standing there. After she lost sight of the two of them, she fell to the ground on the small landing the three of them were on a second ago and begun to cry her heart out, with no one there to hear her pleas for salvation.

Author’s Note:

Wow, what a place to leave off eh? So where’s Harry going? That’s probably the only question in your mind now…. But should there be something else you should be thinking about? AHA! The magics of mystery! No spell can beat that!

Thanks for reading and PLEASE review!