The Last Time

Chapter 18

"Could you please stop tapping your foot, Hermione?" whispered Harry. "It's annoying."

"Sorry. Can't help it."

Hermione stopped tapping her foot and looked around. They were sitting in the hall outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, waiting for the Auror Trials to start. It promised to be a long evening. Ernie Macmillan was pacing the floor and humming softly, and Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin were sitting a few feet away and whispering.

Professor Tenby stepped out of the classroom with a sheet of parchment in her hand. "Let's get started, shall we? We'll go alphabetically - Terry Boot, you're first."

Great, I'm next, thought Hermione, as the heavy wooden door closed behind Terry and Professor Tenby. Better to hurry up and get it over with than to sit here and worry the whole time.

"You're doing it again," said Harry. "Your foot."

"I told you, I can't help it!" she hissed back at him. She knew her foot tapping was annoying, but it was next to impossible for her to stop. She was too wound up.

A little while later Terry emerged from the classroom looking dazed.

"How'd it go, Terry?" asked Lisa.

He didn't answer, but shook his head and dropped into a chair.

"Doesn't look good," said Harry softly. "But don't worry. You'll be fine." He gave her a nervous grin.

Professor Tenby stepped out into the hallway again. "Hermione Granger."

"Good luck," said Harry, squeezing her hand quickly.

Hermione followed her into the classroom, which was empty except for a long table at the far end where several people were seated. Six of them were people she didn't know, dressed in the deep blue robes of Aurors, and seated with them were the four Heads of Hogwarts Houses and Professor Dumbledore. Professor Tenby took a seat near the door. The six Aurors stared at her with looks of cold appraisal, which shook her nerves considerably. They don't know you - don't worry about it.

One of the Aurors, a short, blonde woman, rose from her seat and walked to one of two large silver circles that had been drawn on the floor. She motioned for Hermione to stand in the other circle. Hermione's feet felt like lead weights as she moved to the centre of the circle.

Dumbledore stood and began to give her instructions, but she only half heard them, as most of her mind was occupied in fighting the panic that had swelled in her chest and threatened to overwhelm her at any second.

" - will end when one of the duellers has been disarmed. Points will be awarded for - "

Breathe. Think. Don't panic. You know what you're doing. You can do this.

" - have any questions?" His face was serious but friendly, and the sight of his good-humoured blue eyes renewed her sorely lacking confidence.

"No, sir," she answered in what she hoped was a calm voice.

"Then let us begin. Wands at the ready, please."

Hermione went through the familiarities automatically and ended with her wand raised, waiting, eyes focused on her opponent.

On Dumbledore's count, she immediately cast a Shielding Charm. She was so nervous she couldn't concentrate well enough to put up a solid barrier, and the Auror hit her with an incredibly powerful Lassus Curse. Part of the curse was deflected by the incomplete shield she'd thrown up, but the part that hit her was enough to take her breath away and knock her to her knees. Good thing I didn't get the full force of it, she thought, or I'd be out cold.

Ignoring the waves of fatigue that swamped her, Hermione yelled "Reverso!" Her opponent's eyes went wide as she realized what had hit her. Hermione took advantage of her confusion to re-cast the Shielding Charm, this time with better results. Not as good as in practice, because of her exhaustion, but much stronger than her previous attempt. She got back to her feet just as the Auror began to get rid of the Reversing Charm.

Hermione desperately wanted to cast the strongest possible Adflictius Curse possible and disarm the Auror, but she was still foggy from the Lassus Curse and knew she couldn't cast one strong enough for her purpose. Now what? The panic was back now, stronger than ever.

Her opponent had finally wiped away the Reversing Charm, and shouted "Impedimenta!" The spell bounced harmlessly off Hermione's shield, making the Auror nod approvingly. Hermione was still too tired to cast her strongest spells, so she threw out a Jelly-Legs Jinx for its sheer annoyance factor. The Auror apparently hadn't expected such a low-level curse and fell to the floor before she realized what had happened, but quickly recovered. Keep using weak curses till you get your strength back - distract her - don't let her cast Lassus again, or you're done for. Hermione threw out a few more basic hexes, and her opponent dodged or countered them easily. The distraction worked though - the Auror was so busy dealing with the nuisance hexes before they built up, that she didn't get a chance to throw anything Hermione's way.

Suddenly Hermione realized her Shielding Charm was fading. She didn't have enough energy to re-cast the charm and then disarm the Auror; she had to move on. Taking a deep breath and concentrating with all her might, she shouted "Adflictio mano!"

The Auror yelped in surprise - but didn't drop her wand. Instead, she gave another approving nod and shouted "Adflictio capo!"

A great, splitting pain roared through Hermione's head, making little white dots swim before her eyes, and she fell blindly to the floor. Somehow, she retained enough presence of mind to keep a tight grip on her wand. If she wants to play dirty, I can too. "Adflictio tracheo!"

Her opponent clutched her throat with her free hand and made a harsh gagging noise. "Adflictio praecordia!" she croaked.

Hermione felt as if someone wearing steel-toed boots had kicked her just below her ribcage. Fighting the urge to be sick, she raised her wand again and said, "Adflictio oculus!"

"Adflictio mano!" shouted the Auror hoarsely, with one hand over her eyes, and Hermione's hand seized up in a massive cramp. She tried desperately to hold on to her wand, but she was so very tired - her head was pounding, her stomach aching - and her nerveless fingers uncurled themselves and let her wand slip to the floor.

The click of her wand hitting the floor echoed in her ears.

I lost...I lost...This one thought kept flashing through her brain, over and over. I lost. She was still on the floor, holding her stomach and breathing heavily. The room was dead silent except for her breathing and the ragged, throaty gasps of her opponent.

"Thank you, Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore's voice cut through the silence. "That will be all."

Professor Tenby had risen from her seat by the door and was at Hermione's side, helping her to her feet. "Come along, Hermione," she said softly, steering her to the door.

Harry went white at the sight of her when she sank into a chair in the corridor. "God, Hermione, what happened in there?"

She waved a hand weakly in his direction and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. "Too tired to talk. Just want to sit here for a minute." She heard Professor Tenby call Ernie Macmillan's name as if she were very far away, and the click of his footsteps on the stone floor felt like sharp nails being hammered into her head. Harry brushed a few sweaty strands of hair from her face and began to rub her shoulders.

She had no idea how much time passed before she heard Ernie come out, followed by Professor Tenby.

"Harry Potter."

"Good luck, Harry," she whispered as he went in.

No one spoke while Harry was in the classroom. Ernie and Terry were sitting against the wall with their eyes closed, looking as bad as Hermione felt, and Lisa Turpin was biting her fingernails down to the quick. Hermione hoped that Harry was having a better time of it than she did. Though no one admitted it, from the looks on the faces of those who had gone in suggested that they'd lost as well.

Finally, Harry emerged, looking angry and irritated, and Lisa Turpin took her turn.

"I lost," whispered Harry, low enough that the others couldn't hear.

"So did I," said Hermione.

Lisa came out a while later, looking sick, and Professor Tenby told them to wait a moment for their results. After what seemed like an eternity, but was actually about ten minutes, she reappeared and told them to come in. Five chairs had been set up facing the long table, and they each took a seat.

Dumbledore stood again. "I must congratulate you all on your excellent work today. I have been extremely impressed with the level of talent and skill you have shown. Whether or not you advance to the next level, you are a credit to Hogwarts." He smiled at them all. "Now, Mr. Hebblethwaite from the Auror Selection Committee will announce the results." He sat down, nodding to the wizard beside him.

Mr. Hebblethwaite was a tall, thin wizard with short, curly red hair and blue Auror's robes. "You all look rather glum, so I'll start by telling you that all of you lost your duels. We expected you to lose - in fact, we would have been surprised indeed if any of you had managed to win. Those of us here today are some of the most experienced Aurors in the force." He gave them a small smile.

"And now, for your marks. These are out of fifty - forty is considered passing and will advance you to the next level." He picked up a sheet of parchment and read from it.

"Terry Boot - thirty-eight points." Terry looked relieved. Hermione supposed he hadn't wanted to do it in the first place.

"Hermione Granger - forty-six points." Forty-six! I passed! I can't believe it - I really passed! She felt as if she could melt right into her chair. Harry grinned at her and patted her leg.

"Ernie Macmillan - thirty-two points." Ernie also looked relieved, and not a bit surprised.

"Harry Potter - forty-eight points." Harry's face lit up in a wide smile, looking very pleased.

"Lisa Turpin - forty-one points." Lisa looked surprised and excited; apparently she thought she'd failed miserably.

Mr. Hebblethwaite folded the parchment and laid it on the table. "Congratulations to all of you for the excellent effort you've shown today. Those of you who have advanced to the next round will be receiving your instructions within the week."

The Aurors they'd duelled with came forward to shake their hands, and Professor McGonagall gave Harry and Hermione each a rare and truly wonderful smile and pat on the back. The other teachers gave their praises as well, except Snape, who stood off to the side and scowled. As much as Hermione was enjoying the praise, she was still desperately exhausted and ready to leave.

Finally, they got away from the crowd and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione wanted to talk to Harry about his duel, and tell him about hers, but she didn't have the energy. What she wanted more than anything was a long, hot shower, a fluffy pillow, and a warm blanket.

Forget the shower, just give me the pillow and blanket, she thought, once she reached her room.

*****

A scream jerked Hermione from her sleep, chilling her blood and raising the hair on the back of her neck. It was a frighteningly familiar scream and she knew instantly where it came from. Taking a second to grab her wand, but not stopping to put on a robe or slippers, she leaped out of bed and ran to the seventh-year boys' dormitory.

Harry had kicked all the blankets off the bed and was curled on his side, screaming, with his eyes screwed shut and a look of pure torture on his face. There were long, red welts on his face and arms where he was frantically clawing at himself.

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione shook him gently. God, not again. What's happening to him? She shook him harder, trying to wake him from his nightmare, murmuring what she hoped were soothing words and wishing desperately that Ron were here to help her figure out what to do.

"Wake up, Harry, come on...whatever it is, it's just a dream...just a bad dream, you're alright..." Please let him wake up. Let this just be a bad dream, and he wakes up.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright, breathing hard, his face shining with sweat. He jumped in surprise when he realized Hermione was there, and pushed himself back against the headboard, looking like a cornered, frightened animal.

She slid back a little, perched just on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spook him.

He swiped furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his pyjamas, then fumbled awkwardly for his glasses and crammed them on his face, but didn't say anything. Hermione kept quiet, waiting for the hunted animal look to leave his face. She knew better than to try to talk to him until he calmed down. Just sit still and wait. He's not going anywhere. Let him calm down and sort himself out.

Finally, the terrified look began to fade and his breathing slowed to a more reasonable pace. Hermione went over to the table by the window and poured a glass of water from the silver jug that sat there.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, handing him the glass. "Was it a dream, or a memory?"

He took a drink of water, gripping the glass tightly. "It was a dream."

"About Voldemort?"

He nodded, taking another sip of water. "We were in the graveyard, after the Triwizard Tournament. But it wasn't the same place. He tied me to a gravestone, like before, but it wasn't his father's grave." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "It was my mother's."

"Harry..." Hermione sat beside him on the bed and put her arm around his shoulders. He was holding the glass so tightly she thought he would shatter it, so she gently pried his fingers from it and set it aside.

"He used her for the resurrection, instead of his father," Harry said hoarsely. "And somehow, I got loose, and he chased me through the graveyard, but I fell...it was Aunt Petunia's grave...the coffins were in but not buried, and I fell in...I couldn't move...and then...."

"Don't say anymore, Harry," said Hermione, holding him tightly. "It was just a dream. It's over, you're okay."

Harry shook his head and kept talking, as if he wanted to hurry up and get the words out as fast as possible. "I tried to climb out, but every time I got hold of something, it fell away, and I couldn't get out. And then everything went black...he buried me alive...I tried to dig my way out, but I couldn't breathe...there was dirt in my nose, in my mouth...I was breathing in the dirt and choking. Then there were things with teeth..." He looked at the scratches on his arms and shuddered.

"It's over, Harry, it wasn't real," she said again, stroking his hair. He leaned against her for a long while, relaxing under her touch.

"Sometimes, I think the dreams are worse than the memories," he said. "At least I know where the memories come from. The dreams...." He shivered a little, and reached down and pulled the blankets back onto the bed from where he'd kicked them to the floor.

She looked at the scratches on his arms and face. "I can fix those for you, if you want."

"Don't worry about it - they just sting a little."

She knew he didn't want her in his mind again. "I won't do it that way...I'll use my wand." She picked it up from the bedside table where she'd put it when she came in.

He nodded, and she set about healing the scratches. A minute later, his skin was smooth again.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better. Thanks." He looked over at the clock. "It's three in the morning. Sorry to keep you up."

"What's a friend for?" she asked lightly, kissing his cheek.

"You're the best, Hermione," he said. "Thank you."

"Any time." She paused. "I guess I should go back to bed."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure." He gave her a big grin, but it was forced.

She could see that he most definitely did not want to be by himself, although he wasn't about admit it. Harry Potter will never, ever, admit that he needs anyone's help. Ever. The boy could be trampled half to death by a rampaging hippogriff and he would say, "Yeah, it hurts a bit, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

"I could stay with you, if you want," she said.

"Would you?"

"Of course. There's room enough for both of us."

"What, here? In the same bed?" He looked scandalized.

"If you have another nightmare, I'll be right here." She paused, thinking of how to explain. "When I was little, sometimes I had nightmares. I'd go in my parents' room and climb in their bed, right between them. I felt safe. It helped me forget about the dream and go back to sleep."

"Oh. I never thought about that."

"I think...just knowing that someone's there, makes it better," she said. "It's just sleeping, Harry."

"Just sleeping." He looked at her carefully. "I reckon that would be okay."

It was a very awkward moment while they climbed under the blankets and got comfortable. Hermione belatedly remembered that she wasn't actually wearing real pyjamas, just an overlarge grey t-shirt that came to just above her knees, and for a moment she wished she hadn't offered to stay. She turned on her side, away from him, and closed her eyes. She was very tired, and her whole body still hurt from the duel.

"Good night, Harry," she said.

"Good night, Hermione."

Sometime before dawn, Harry began to talk in his sleep; broken mumblings that Hermione didn't understand.

"Harry, it's just a dream," she said softly, turning over. "It's not real."

Then they both fell back to sleep.

*****

"What the hell is going on here?"

Hermione forced her eyes open. The room was flooded with early afternoon sun, and her head swam from the curses she'd endured the night before. It took some effort to focus, but when her eyes finally cooperated, she saw Ron standing in the door, his blue eyes wide with shock and confusion, with Ginny right behind him, looking equally shocked.

For a moment, Hermione was totally disoriented. Why am I in the boys' dormitory? And then she remembered coming to help Harry...Oh my God - I'm in Harry's bed. I am in Harry's bed, with his arms around me...

By the sudden movement behind her, she knew Harry had woken too. They jerked away from each other immediately.

"I am not seeing this, I am not seeing this, this is not happening!" said Ron, shaking his head and backing into the doorframe. He looked like he wasn't sure whether to throw up or scream or run away.

"Ron, let me explain," she stammered, leaping out of the bed, ignoring the fierce protests her body was making at the sudden movement. Every bone in her body ached as if she'd been beaten.

"Oh, dear Merlin! You aren't even dressed!" said Ron, running his hands through his hair. "What the hell is there to explain? It looks pretty obvious to me!"

"What are you doing back?" asked Harry, getting up.

"I thought I'd come back early to see my friends, and find out about the Trials," said Ron. "How dumb was I?"

Ginny said nothing, but sank into a chair, looking stunned.

"I know this looks bad, Ron, but honestly, it's not how it looks," Hermione said desperately. "Harry had a nightmare - "

"I don't want to hear it," said Ron, his face darkening. "I can't believe this...it's not happening. I'm just seeing things."

"You're not going to even give her a chance to explain?" said Harry, stepping towards Ron.

"You shut up," snapped Ron, sounding hurt and defensive. "After all that we've been through together, everything that happened and then you... you... turned around and did this. Like none of that even mattered at all!"

"It's not like that, Ron," said Harry, his voice deliberately calm. He was obviously trying to head off Ron's rapidly mounting fury. "Nothing at all. She wouldn't do that to you and neither would I. Nothing happened."

"Oh, of course not," said Ron sarcastically. "She was just keeping you company, right? You had a nightmare and she came to make you feel better. In your bed! Oh Merlin, I can't believe this..."

"Ron, please listen to me," said Hermione, trying very hard to keep from bursting into tears. "Nothing happened last night. I just slept here. That's all."

"Sure," said Ron. "I really believe that. Just like I believe Lucius Malfoy isn't really a Death Eater. How stupid do you think I am?"

"Ron, I swear, nothing happened with Harry and me. Why won't you listen?"

"Because I'm not a fool, Hermione. I know what I see." He started pacing angrily around the room.

A sickening, panicky feeling began to spread through Hermione's chest as she realized he wasn't going to listen to anything she had to say.

"I thought we were going to start over, Hermione." Ron's voice was flat, empty. "Didn't you - I mean - did you mean it at all?"

Hermione turned away, not wanting him to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. How could Ron think something like this of me? What kind of person does he think I am? What kind of person does he think Harry is? I know it looks bad. But nothing happened. Nothing.

"Ron, please," said Harry. "You're my best friend - even if I had feelings for Hermione, I'd never, ever act on them. I know how you feel about her, and how she feels about you. Our friendship - "

"Is over," said Ron thickly, and Hermione realized that he was trying very hard not to cry. It wasn't working, and he was shaking very hard with the effort of keeping himself from breaking down.

Ginny spoke for the first time. "Don't say that, Ron."

"Stay out of this, Ginny," he choked, fumbling at his sleeve and fighting the tears that welled in his eyes. He was wearing a gold watch with a creamy white face; the one Harry had given him for Christmas. He yanked it from his wrist and threw it down as if it were something filthy he didn't want to touch. It slid across the floor and hit the end of his bed with a thwack, and the upper face snapped open to reveal the green face with three hands underneath. All three hands pointed to Hogwarts.

"Don't talk to me. Don't ever talk to me again."

Then he stormed out of the room, taking a piece of Hermione's heart with him.