The Lord of the Stone

-BOOK ONE-
-THE SEARCH FOR HARRY POTTER-

Chapter Five: János

Two weeks later
Austria


Hermione sat up in bed and stretched her arms wide, yawning. She blinked as sunlight streamed in through the windows and illuminated Sirius’ relieved expression.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, from his chair in the corner of her room. Hermione nodded.

‘I feel fine; it’s hardly even a dull ache. How long have I been asleep?’

‘Four days. Alex’s antidote was extremely powerful, and it seems to have done the trick. How does it feel?’

Hermione put a hand to her side. Her head felt very light, and her whole body seemed cleansed.

‘I don’t feel bad – just a bit dizzy, that’s all. It must have been strong venom that Draco managed to get hold of. What was it?’

‘The poison from the right head of a Runespoor,’ Sirius replied. ‘It would have killed you if he’d let it go straight into your blood, but fortunately he decided to, er …’

‘Kiss me – yes, well, that’s just Draco Malfoy for you.’ She sighed. ‘I’m just glad the pain’s stopped.’

A week after Hermione had arrived in Höf her condition had deteriorated rapidly. For the few days between then and taking the potion she had been in excruciating pain as the poison had slowly worked its way around her internal system. Gesser had managed, however, with unwavering help from Sirius, to get the potion ready in time to save her. For four days the stuff had purged her body, slowly removing every bit of poison, and in time she would recover completely.

Hermione’s dreams were one of the few things that had kept her going during that time. Sirius never left her side, of course; he was always there to hold her hand, or calm her down, or administer Pain-Reduction charms. But in her dreams Hermione was always looked after by Harry, and she could not even begin to explain what that might mean. It was as though they had their own little world in which to converse, free from conscious thought and feeling. And though she had talked with him several times, Hermione still knew she didn’t really know him at all. She recalled one of the dreams she must have had whilst recovering.

*

The two teenagers walked together through a large park, smiling as they passed a group of young boys. It was warm and plants were blossoming all around them. Hermione loved the scenarios in her dreams; they were always beautiful, and cheerful.

‘I have nightmares,’ Harry was saying, walking quickly along. ‘Sometimes. But I’ve not had any in the last two weeks. I’ve come here instead.’

Hermione smiled. ‘I’m happy. What are your nightmares about?’

‘My parents,’ he said, with a slightly wistful smile. ‘My real family. Though I never really got to know them. I wish I knew how they’d died.’

Hermione said nothing. She couldn’t tell Harry what had happened, not in a dream. Dreams were not supposed to contain feelings of worry and discontentment – they were simply a time for her and Harry to talk about nothing in particular. She was talking with him, and yet at the same time wasn’t telling him anything at all.

‘Why do we meet each other in dreams?’ she asked, looking into Harry’s eyes. If she didn’t hate green eyes, she might have liked them.

‘I really have no idea. What have we got to do with each other, I wonder? I’m sure there’s some transcendent power deciding all this for us.’ He grinned.

Hermione bit her tongue again. To Harry, she was just the Girl In My Dreams. To her, he was The Boy Who Lived. And yet it felt perfectly normal and comfortable just to talk to him.

Harry glanced at his watch. ‘It’s time for me to go. But I’ll see you again soon.’ He leaned down and kissed her cheek, as he always did, and then disappeared, leaving Hermione on her own to wake up.

*

Hermione didn’t know why, but she felt it impossible, within dreams, to actually tell Harry anything concerning the magical world. It was almost as strange as her relationship with Draco – well, nothing was ever really going to be more complicated than that, but still, it confused her. The burning question she kept asking was that if she could remember her dreams after waking up, could Harry remember his as well? If they ever were to meet, would he recognise her?

The idea of meeting Harry brought with it a sinking feeling. Because of her foolishness and lack of courage, she and Sirius had been set back two weeks in their travels. They could well have made it to Romania by this time. Draco, with the help of his griffin, would probably be somewhere in the Middle East already. Hermione sighed. Was it all just futile? Was there any chance of them getting to Harry Potter before the Dark Lord? Had she ever really believed there was?

She didn’t know. But she and Sirius had made an almost unspoken promise to the few good people left in the world. And she had met Harry, now, albeit in her subconscious. She owed it to the fate of those people like Alexander Gesser – good, kind people who lived in fear of the Death Eaters and their invincible master.

It was a daunting prospect for Hermione. Though she had been hardened over the years, the fact remained that she was still a girl, essentially, just barely an adult. In another world she might simply have been left at Hogwarts to work, and continue with intellectual pursuits. What would have happened if Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts?

In her first year at school, Hermione had been sorted into the Hogwarts house Gryffindor. At the time she had been most perplexed as to why she had been put there instead of Ravenclaw. Gryffindors were renowned for their bravery, and courage in the face of fire. Ravenclaws, meanwhile, were hailed for their intellectual capabilities. Slytherin, Draco’s house, housed those who were cunning and aspired to power. The final house, Hufflepuff, was for the loyal and true. Hermione had been top of her year in every subject in the year she’d spent at Hogwarts, and she’d wondered again and again why the Sorting Hat, which decided the pupils’ houses, had put her in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw.

Now she felt she had a better idea of why that was. Although she was very intelligent, this was not her strongest virtue. Though she would rarely have admitted it out loud, she was a brave person. She could handle danger, and was not easily intimidated. And now she was heading on the longest journey of her life towards India, and the fate of many people rested on her shoulders.

Oh, she was a Gryffindor all right.

It didn’t surprise her that Sirius had been in Gryffindor in his day, either. Together they made a good team. Hermione was not exactly sure where in the world she would be if it had not been for Sirius. Dead, maybe. Or perhaps festering on a wall somewhere in Simial Neryth. She had heard horror stories of what went on in places like that in England. The Purification Fortresses. The Death Eaters had built them under Voldemort’s command to hunt out and torture or kill Muggle-borns. Hermione had a feeling they were not exclusive to the “Mudbloods”, however. Her stomach quivered at the thought. What about those pureblood wizards who would not join with the Dark Lord? Would he be merciful enough to allow them death?

Somehow, she didn’t think so.

Murder. Torture. Rape. Abuse. The words rose in her mind and her stomach clenched. She wondered again, as she often did, what might have happened to her classmates from Hogwarts. She tried to remember the conversation they’d had on their very first night there...

**

Hermione had never been in such a grand room. As Albus Dumbledore sat down, having read out his messages, she gazed up at the Enchanted ceiling high above. The sky was inky black and peppered with stars. She remembered reading about the spell cast upon the ceiling in her new favourite book – Hogwarts: A History.

She’d been very nervous during the Sorting. Fortunately, the Sorting Hat had declared instantly that she was fit for Gryffindor alone, and she now sat at the Gryffindor table, taking in the magnificent surroundings.

‘Can you believe he read out Harry Potter’s name and he didn’t show up? I mean, Harry Potter might have been part of our year. It’s well unfair.’

Hermione turned and saw a redheaded boy she had spoken to briefly on the train talking with another, sandy-haired boy. Hermione scowled. The first boy had insulted her just because she’d been helping Neville look for his pet toad. She turned back to the place in front of her and looked at her food.

‘Is anyone sitting here?’ said a breathless voice from above her. Hermione turned, and saw that a pretty girl whose name she hadn’t caught during the Sorting was indicating the seat next to her. She shook her head, and the girl sat down.

‘This place is brilliant, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I’m Lavender Brown, nice to meet you.’

Hermione smiled at Lavender. ‘I’m Hermione Granger,’ she said. ‘I’m a Muggle-born witch, actually, so this is the first time I’ve ever really seen this much magic close up.’

‘Really?’ said Lavender. ‘I’ve been brought up knowing all about magic.’

As they spoke together golden plates and goblets appeared, soon followed by the inevitable banquet. Whilst Hermione and Lavender ate, they also started to talk to the other First Years.

The redheaded boy from the train, she now recalled, was called Ron Weasley. As she was eating her way through her main course, she caught snatches of his conversation with the boys around him.

‘Hogwarts will be great, no doubt about it,’ he was saying. ‘Five of my brothers came here, you know, three still do. And they’ve told me loads.’ His chest swelled, and Hermione noticed that the others seemed to be hanging on his every word.

‘It’ll be a lot of work, though,’ said the sandy haired boy, Seamus.

Ron grinned. ‘What are you talking about? We’re First Years. This year’s all about watching Quidditch and enjoying yourself. Forget working.’

Hermione scowled from across the table and put her spoon down. ‘Actually,’ she said, so that everyone could hear. ‘I think we will have to work, if we don’t want to be kept behind a year.’ Ron’s smiled faltered as he turned to look at her.

‘I wasn’t asking you,’ he said, and Hermione could tell he was remembering the journey on the Hogwarts Express too.

She ignored him. ‘Well,’ she said loftily, turning back to her soup. ‘If you don’t work, you might get kept back, or even worse, suspended.’

Ron turned away as well, and Hermione could have sworn he had said, ‘Talk about needing to sort out your priorities.’

She scowled and resumed eating, unaware that her hands were shaking. How could someone she’d only just met be so infuriating? She felt a hand on her arm, and turned back to Lavender.

‘Don’t worry about him,’ she said, sighing. ‘His brothers will keep him in line, well, his older one will. My sister’s told me about them all before.’

Hermione smiled. ‘Thank you, Lavender.’

*

Hermione returned to the present day with a jolt. She tended to get lost in memories and then forget them halfway through. But she remembered the day of her Sorting. All those innocent people scattered around the Hall. Where was Lavender now? And Neville, and all those other people? What about Ron? Though she’d disliked him initially, he’d stuck up for her a few times. Were they simply anonymous crosses in the ground, somewhere? Or were they strung up by their necks in the Fortresses, being beaten and ground into submission?

It was enough to make her feel sick. Not only that, but what about the teachers? Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape, even though he’d been strict. And Hagrid – kind, blustering Hagrid. Where were they all now?

All these questions were unanswerable, and she knew it. If any of the people from Hogwarts were still alive, she was unlikely to find them. In terms of people her own age, for Draco Malfoy really did not count, Hermione was very much alone.

*

After lunch Gesser took Sirius and Hermione southwards and up the tall peak of Hahnkogel, a mountain they’d been able to see from Höf. From atop it, the land slid away in all directions. To all sides there was green countryside, scattered with towns and woodland. Hermione could also see several rivers snaking in all directions, and smiled. Austria really was a very pretty country; she was sad to be leaving it so soon.

‘We’ll have to come back here sometime,’ she said absently. ‘If we ever get the chance.’

Sirius, presuming that this was directed at him, said, ‘Yes, it’s lovely. I came and stayed here sometimes before Voldemort’s rise to power. Parts of Switzerland are lovely too, you know…’

Whilst Hermione and Sirius continued to survey the landscape, Gesser strolled away a few paces and removed his backpack. He took a short draught from his bottle, and then removed from his bag a small vial containing a silver liquid. Smiling, he stood up again and returned to the others.

‘ – yeah, of course I’m going to be more on my guard in Hungary. But Draco will be miles ahead now, anyway, we probably won’t run into him again.’ Gesser heard Hermione saying this to Sirius as he rejoined them, and took a good look to the east.

‘I think this is the point at which I leave you,’ he said, smiling slightly, as he held out the small vial to Hermione. ‘Take this, Hermione. It might just help you when nothing else will. There are two draughts in this vial.’

Hermione took it curiously and smiled thankfully. Gesser returned it, and turned to Sirius. ‘As for you, Sirius…’ He reached into his backpack again and pulled out a short, silver crossbow.

‘As you’re passing through Romania at any rate, I thought you might want this. The darts are either diamond or silver-tipped.’

Sirius took the crossbow, and looked curiously at the small arrows that accompanied it. Eight in total: four silver-tipped and four diamond-tipped. He thought back to his schooldays and wondered idly what Remus would think, seeing him with a silver crossbow. He then screwed his eyes closed and tried to drain the memory – thinking about Remus was almost as painful as thinking about James.

‘I just want you to take care,’ Gesser continued. ‘If you ask me, Romania is far more frightening than any Death Eater, save perhaps the top man himself.’ He shuddered. ‘And you are not the only ones with enemies, I assure you. I would be very surprised if a Death Eater ever escaped from Romania. Sasha does not take well to visitors.’

‘Who?’ said Hermione and Sirius at the same time.

‘One of the last wizards left in Romania, and he basically stops people entering. He looks after the beasts, too. I taught him once…’

‘Does he ever leave Romania?’ Sirius asked. Hermione had a feeling he was thinking back to the great black dragon on the Swiss border.

‘I do not know – I haven’t spoken to him for years. Why?’

‘Never mind,’ said Sirius, and Hermione saw him relax visibly. ‘Well, I suppose this is goodbye. For now.’

‘Oh!’ Gesser said, and removed his backpack once again. ‘I completely forgot.’ He rummaged around in it and pulled out a bottle containing a red liquid. ‘You’ll need to take this for a few days, Hermione. Once every morning and evening. Just in case of a relapse.’

Hermione took the second potion gratefully.

‘Well, you had better get going,’ Gesser said. ‘Goodbye, Sirius. Who knows? Maybe someday we will meet up again.’ He shook Sirius’ hand genially and turned to Hermione. ‘Take care, Hermione,’ he said, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. She smiled, and unable to stop herself, threw her arms around Gesser.

He stumbled a little, but smiled. Hermione, slightly embarrassed, said, ‘Thank you, Alex. Thank you for saving my life.’

Sirius smiled as well, as Gesser said a final goodbye. ‘Say hello to Mr. Potter for me!’ he called after them, and a few minutes later he was gone.

‘Well,’ said Sirius, glancing up at the high sun. ‘Let’s get going, Hermione. I don’t think you should try transforming or winging just yet. We’ll pace ourselves, hm? Besides, nothing does you good like a walk in the Austrian sun.’

Hermione agreed, and hoisted her bag onto her back. They smiled at one another and set off, glad to be on the road again.

*

After leaving Gesser, Hermione and Sirius made decent headway. They reached the town of Gleisdorf by nightfall and, as usual, managed to find a small coppice that provided shelter and a place to sleep. Hermione noticed that Sirius was keeping a close eye on her, and rarely letting her wonder out of sight. She was unsure whether to feel reassured or discomfited by this.

After a brief supper, Sirius pulled out a large scroll with a map of Hungary on it. Whilst Hermione took some of the potion Gesser had given her, Sirius perused the map using the light from his wand, occasionally muttering things like, ‘Death Eaters near here,’ or, ‘might meet a stray Horntail...’ Hermione, meanwhile, sat with her back resting against a tree. It was going to be hard for her to sleep tonight, after the warm comfort of Gesser’s cabin. Despite this, she yawned loudly, and Sirius looked up.

‘Do you want to turn in?’ he asked, the light from his wand illuminating his concerned face. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

‘Let me have a look at that map.’ She stood up, and walked a little unsteadily to where Sirius was sitting. He unfolded the map completely and handed it to her.

Hermione studied the map carefully, and noticed several red lines that Sirius had added, and a number of small notes. Hungary was not very different in size from Austria, but they would have to get through it much more quickly. There was every chance they might meet a stray Hungarian Horntail at some point.

‘This route seems best,’ said Sirius, leaning over Hermione’s shoulder. ‘We want to avoid Budapest like the plague, because that’ll be guarded by Death Eaters. However, the southern routes, through places like Kecskemét and the Great Plain, are basically empty except for Muggles. Even the dragons tend to stay in the north, towards the beginning of the Carpathians.’ He pointed all this out and Hermione nodded. ‘Going through on foot will take a long time; it’s nearly three hundred miles to the Romanian border. On the other hand, you might be able to start using wings again before too long.’

Hermione nodded, and began to roll up the map. ‘OK, at least we know where we’re going now.’

‘Quite,’ said Sirius, taking the map and putting it back in his bag. ‘But it’s getting there that’ll be the problem.’

*

They reached the border early the next morning and had little trouble disposing of the Death Eaters on guard there. Hermione convinced Sirius to let her transform into Redwing for a very short time just to check on their road ahead. When she landed and turned back into a human, she nearly collapsed.

‘I’m all right,’ she said to Sirius as she leant against a tree. ‘Just – I shouldn’t do that for a while longer.’ Sirius gave her a concerned look as she fumbled for Gesser’s potion. ‘I could see quite a bit of the land ahead of us, though. A lot of it’s cropland, though there was quite a large lake off to the southeast.’

‘Balaton,’ Sirius replied, putting a hand to his chin. ‘If we can make it there by nightfall I’ll be happy.’

Hermione stood up, refreshed by the potion, and smiled. ‘Let’s get going, then.’

Their pace was slow to start, but quickened as the day wore on. Hermione was still fatigued from her illness, and particularly her brief transformation, so Sirius did not try and hurry her. They spoke little; both had their own things to think about.

Hermione was feeling a little down again. She wondered vaguely where Draco Malfoy was by now, and felt anger and shame surge through her. How had she let him do that to her? She also thought of Harry, thousands of miles away in India. She tried to imagine actually meeting him in the flesh, instead of in a dream world.

Now that would be interesting.

A crescent moon was rising by the time Sirius and Hermione glimpsed Lake Balaton off in the distance. It was huge: according to Sirius, the largest freshwater lake in Central Europe. Hermione was often astounded by his knowledge of these areas, but did not comment.

As they approached the lake from the west, however, they realised that they were not alone. A number of dark figures were shuffling around near a small river. The trees were dense, and little moonlight was able to permeate the area. Sirius hissed at Hermione to be quiet and drew the Invisibility Cloak out of her bag. He threw it over them both and they advanced, careful not to trip over the jutting tree roots.

‘D – don’t come any closer… you can’t see what will happen … the… they… he… don’t come any closer! STAY BACK! They’re coming … for him … STAY!’

The voice cut through the air and Sirius and Hermione froze. Hermione’s mind span; surely that was the voice from her dream. There was harsh laughter.

‘You will return with us, or die,’ said a voice in a thick Austrian accent. ‘After all, the Dark Lord will be most distressed to lose you.’

‘NO!’ said the first voice again, but Sirius and Hermione did not hear what was said afterwards. The mention of Voldemort was enough to show them that they were dealing with Death Eaters. They moved closer to the voices, wands at the ready.

‘No?’ repeated the Austrian voice silkily. ‘Well, in that case, Avad –’

‘Stupefy!’ shouted Sirius and Hermione at the same time. The largest figure fell to the floor. The other figures looked around, stunned and scared.

‘Who’s there?’ one of them shouted. He was greeted with another batch of Stunning spells, and soon all the Death Eaters lay sprawled on the floor.

Sirius removed the Cloak and began levitating the bodies so they were out of the way. Hermione, meanwhile, approached the shaking figure on the floor.

‘Who’s there?’ he said, and Hermione held up her wand.

‘Friends,’ she replied. ‘We’re here to help you.’

She held up the light to his face and stopped dead.

At the ground by his feet was a white mask, which had been torn and had bloodstains on it. As she glanced up into his face, she saw a haunted look in his bright blue eyes and her heart skipped a beat. As he brushed away a strand of his black hair, she saw that this man, who looked about her age, was covered in bruises, scratches and blood. She glanced down to his arm and recoiled upon seeing the Dark Mark. She looked back into his eyes and he gave her an unreadable look before he fainted.

*

‘Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?’

Hermione leaned over the young man whilst Sirius, who’d been preparing a fire, glanced at her.

‘Has he still not woken up?’

‘I can assure you,’ said the young man, whose eyes were still closed. ‘I can hear everything you are saying. I just don’t want to communicate.’

Hermione gave Sirius a puzzled glance, and turned back to the man. Her heart leapt again for some reason. His accent was clearly English.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

This time, he sat up and opened his eyes, and pierced Hermione with his gaze. Hermione blushed inadvertently. God, those eyes…She repeated the question, but he did not withdraw his stare.

‘Whatever you wish it to be,’ he said, and put a hand to his head. ‘In fact, I can’t remember. Where am I? Who are you?’

Sirius came over, this time. ‘We’re Sirius Black and Hermione Granger,’ he said, taking the boy’s hand in his own. ‘You’re in Hungary, very close to Lake Balaton. Can you not remember your name?’

The boy, or man (Hermione could not quite decide which), sobered slightly. ‘They did this to me. They’re still coming after me. And they’re coming for … him.’ He said all this still looking straight at Hermione. She felt a prickling at the back of her neck.

‘Who are “they”?’ Sirius said, quietly.

‘His foll – the Death Eaters.’ His voice seemed to go up and octave and he spoke much more quickly. ‘They did this to my mind. I do not see what others see. They – I cannot … help me! They’re coming after me!’ Without warning he sprang up and pulled out his wand, looking wildly around. Hermione’s stomach dropped when they broke eye contact, but she pretended not to notice it.

‘Please, sit down,’ said Sirius coaxingly, and Hermione could sense something deeper in his words. ‘You are safe with us, for the time being.’ After Stunning the team of Death Eaters, they’d found a spot a little way from the Lake in which to camp. They’d brought the young man with them.

Reluctantly, the man lowered his wand. ‘One of them approaches. I sense it.’

‘Have you met a man called Alexander Gesser?’ Sirius asked, quietly. Hermione shot him a confused look, but the man turned and fixed Sirius with his unnatural stare.

‘A man who has much to hide,’ he said, in a whisper. ‘But of a true heart! Yes, he helped me to recover from a very bad period some time ago. It must be nearly five months since then.’

Sirius’ brow creased ever so slightly. ‘It was last month.’

The man stood still, and his eyes, instead of fixing themselves upon Sirius’, began to rove around the clearing at high speed. It was as though he was looking for something. With a small noise of satisfaction, he stepped towards a large tree. He cut a slice of the bark and held it to his nose, inhaling its soft scent.

‘You are right,’ he said, casting down the piece of wood. ‘It was last month I saw him. And yet since then … it feels like far longer…’

Hermione sat on the ground, quite dazed. How had he managed to work that out from a piece of bark? Who was he? And why could she not draw her eyes away from him?

‘Sit down,’ Sirius repeated, and the man did so. ‘Please, tell me what you can.’

The man shot another look at Hermione, and smiled briefly for the first time. Hermione’s heart jumped in her chest, and she looked away. What the bloody hell…?

‘They tortured me,’ he said, looking into the fire. ‘Persistently. They say that the Cruciatus Curse destroys the brain – they are quite right. My mind is very nearly destroyed, and only one kind of person can heal it. I can no longer distinguish between what is real and what is not. And I see things… things too horrible to imagine. They called me X, simply because I made no sense to them. I could see things past anything they will ever dream of… they have … I will take… they will come for me, and him.’

Sirius said nothing. Hermione could see the deadened look in his eye again, the one she associated with him and Azkaban.

‘I know what it is to be tortured persistently,’ Sirius said to the man, quietly. ‘Do you remember any of the time before you, ah –’ He motioned to the Dark Mark on the man’s arm.

‘No. I have no access to those memories. This is one of the reasons I do not know my name. In fact, I …’ He trailed off. Sirius and Hermione both looked at him. ‘STUPEFY!’ he said, without warning. Hermione gaped as a beam of white light shot from his wand and towards the trees behind her. ‘STAY BACK!’ he shouted to the emptiness.

‘Put your wand away,’ said Sirius, looking sad and sympathetic at the same time. ‘There is no one there. They are not coming yet.’

The man continued to stare at the empty space into which he just cast his spell. Hermione sat back, saying nothing. She was a Muggle-born, and vaguely recognised the signs. Schizophrenia – what had her father used to say? Someone who distorts reality with unreality. Well, that was almost exactly what the man had said about himself.

‘When did they make you a Death Eater?’ Sirius asked. He remained perfectly calm, and Hermione was surprised. She had never seen Sirius like this, so calm and focused.

‘I cannot say,’ the man replied, putting his wand away again. ‘I cannot remember a time when I was not held by them, and tortured. Consumed…’

‘You need sleep,’ said Sirius. ‘Both of you, in fact. Get ready for bed, and I’ll make some supper.’

Hermione yawned, and had to suppress a laugh. Sirius could be so much like a father sometimes that it was uncanny. Sighing, she pulled off her cloak and jumper, and rummaged around in her bag for something clean to wear.

And then she got that peculiar prickling again, at the top of spine. She looked sideways and noticed that the man was fixing her with his gaze again. Instead of turning away, though, she looked back, studying his face.

Sirius had managed to get rid of the smaller cuts and bruises, but a livid gash still stood out down the side of the man’s face. His black hair was short, not even reaching the back of his neck. And his blue eyes stood out like stars on his pale face. Hermione’s heart leapt again. She was acutely aware of how good-looking this wizard was, and of how carefully he was scrutinising her.

‘Thank you for finding me,’ he said, and smiled for the second time. Hermione was amazed at how much it lit up his features, and how much more attractive it made him. Draco Malfoy never looked this good, she thought wryly. The man had got up now, and walked towards Hermione. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek and then withdrew, saying, ‘Thank you’ again. He then walked away to get ready to sleep.

Hermione’s mind was reeling. The last hour had been the strangest of her life, and her heart was beating like a sledgehammer against her ribs. What was wrong with her?

Sirius watched Hermione and the young man with amusement, and could not help but be reminded of times long past. With a sigh, he placed some sausages on a plate.

‘Excuse me?’ he said to the man, who had removed his heavy Death Eater cloak and was wearing a light shirt.

‘Please, call me János.’

‘Why?’ Sirius asked, interestedly.

‘It is the only name I can think of,’ he replied. ‘And it is Hungarian. I like it.’

Sirius smiled. ‘János. It’s a nice name. Would you care for some food?’

And as they talked, the three discovered much about each other. János was prone to having occasional delusions, but Sirius was able to cope with these. Hermione was starting to wonder more and more exactly what he had done between leaving Hogwarts and being sent to Azkaban.

‘Where did you go, János, after you left Austria?’

‘I came this way, into Hungary. I eluded capture up until today, and you… they would have killed me. You saved me. Thank you.’ Hermione smiled.

‘What will you do now?’ she said, quietly. ‘Will you come with us?’ She did not quite realise the hopeful voice with which she’d asked this question, and Sirius smiled to himself.

‘Where are you going?’ János asked, looking at Hermione again. She thought she was going to go mad if he kept looking at her like that.

‘We’re … searching for someone,’ she said. Although she felt she could trust János entirely, he was a Death Eater, and could be deceiving them. Surely not…

He seemed to understand perfectly, though. His eyes widened. ‘You are searching for… for him?’

Something in his voice clicked. ‘Yes, we’re looking for him.’

Horror gripped János, and he stood up. ‘They are looking for him too! They will find him! How do you know where he is? We must find him!’

Sirius and Hermione shared another look. János was looking between them helplessly.

‘We must get some sleep,’ said Sirius, standing up as well and hesitating. Hermione suddenly saw why he looked uncomfortable. The two of them usually slept in their Animagus forms, but they could not trust János enough yet to reveal their skill to him.

‘The ground is soft enough for us to sleep on,’ he said, giving Hermione a pointed look. ‘We can discuss what we’re going to do in the morning.’

Hermione found a small patch of grass underneath one of the dark trees and willed herself to fall asleep. But a certain pair of blue eyes was watching her in the darkness, and she could sense them.

‘János?’ she whispered. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No,’ he said, and she heard him stand up. He looked around for a minute, and then came to sit next to her. ‘Have you ever seen the Fortresses?’

Hermione blinked. She’d seen one from a distance, but had never actually been held captive. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I thought they only had them in England.’

‘Oh, they do.’ He pulled out his wand and lit the end of it, illuminating his weary face. ‘But I remember being there, before coming out here. That’s where … they…’

‘They what?’

‘They took my memory, Hermione. They destroyed half of my mind. I still see things that just –’ He sighed and looked to the other side of the clearing. ‘– aren’t there. Only one sort of person can cure me, and it has to be of their own will.’

‘Who?’ said Hermione, leaning forward slightly. János looked very pale in the dim light, and his eyes had lost some of their intensity. He turned to look at her, and smiled shortly.

‘Werewolves. That is why I was heading eastward. After I escaped from Austria, I was bent entirely on finding my way to Romania. The country does not scare me as it does the Death Eaters. If I could find a werewolf there, he or she might be able to help me recover some of my lost thoughts. They might be …’ he coughed harshly. ‘I cannot remember anything of my life up to the Purification. And the memories I have of that period are …’ He trailed off into the darkness.

‘What did they do to you?’ Hermione asked, curious and horrified at the same time.

János sighed. Hermione looked at him carefully – only twenty years of age, roughly. She hated Voldemort for doing this to people so young. ‘In those places,’ he began. ‘They are not purely interested in physical pain. Yes, they use the Cruciatus Curse, but that is not the extent of it. They have the great mirror. The Mirror of Raef. They showed it to me once, I remember, and I was not the same afterwards. The thing shatters your perception of what is happening and you simply have its images imprinted on your brain. And yet –’ He sighed deeply. ‘It only shows what you most fear, not anything that has actually happened. But they convince you that what you see is really happening. It sends a lot of people mad.’

Hermione had clapped a hand over her mouth. How could they do that to people?

‘There are many young girls in the Fortresses, also. I needn’t explain to you what some of the Death Eaters – they –’ Without warning, he jumped to his feet and punched the nearest tree savagely.

‘János!’ Hermione said, and stood up as well. She pulled out her wand and lit the end of it – János had dropped his. He looked back at her, eyes blazing again, with blood pouring from his hand. ‘Oh God – here, let me fix that.’

She stepped close to him and placed her wand against his fingers, muttering an incantation softly. The blood flow stopped, and János was left with a clean cut. Hermione stepped back, satisfied.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed, and looked up into her eyes. She smiled softly.

‘I know you’ve been through far more than I have,’ she said, slowly. ‘But there’s no point in getting angry, or injuring yourself.’ She glanced at his hand. ‘We plan to go through Romania, János. We’ll do all we can to try and get your memory back.’

And all of a sudden, he had leaned forward and kissed her, very tenderly, on the lips. He drew back ever so slightly, and Hermione’s heart leapt. Had he just kissed her? They looked at each other for another half minute, standing perfectly still. But this time they both leaned in.

Hermione could taste the slightly metallic taste of blood as she kissed him, but she did not pull away. He put a hand on her neck slowly and she felt something strike through her. She kissed him more intensely, weaving her hand around his back.

She felt her knees weaken. Kissing Draco Malfoy had never been like this, and she’d done it enough times to know. But this certainly wasn’t time to think about Draco. She broke the kiss very lightly, and her chest hitched. She looked back at János, and felt herself come forward into his arms again, his blue eyes mesmerising her.