Promise You Won\'t Forget Me

~Chapter 7: Knowledge Can Be Deadly~

Hermione´s eyes blinked open, and for a brief moment she thought she had been pulled back into the Portal. Then she saw a familiar face watching her with heavy concern, and she realized she was in a hospital bed.

Harry looked exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face was haggard. She smiled weakly at him and tried to speak.

"Harry?" she croaked.

"Hermione?" he whispered, starting suddenly. "You´re awake! What happened to you? One of the passengers found you sprawled out on the deck unconscious!"

Hermione´s head ached again as she tried to recall what had happened after her fall. She was about to tell Harry everything when she caught herself. He was already suspicious of Ron, and to judge by his drunk performance the other night, Harry wouldn´t handle the news well. So she lied.

"I must have fainted, or hit my head or something," she said, dismissive, avoiding the steady gaze of those piercing green eyes. It had never been easy to lie to Harry. "I don´t really remember much."

This, of course, was a blatant lie as she remembered her time in the alternate dimension with piercing clarity.

"So," she continued with false cheeriness, "I expect you missed me last night."

"Last night," Harry repeated. "Yes, as well as the three nights prior to that. Hermione, you were missing for four days! Monty only found you early this morning! I was frantic!"

"Four days," Hermione repeated blankly. But she had only been in that dimension for a few hours, a day at the most! Obviously that was one of the dimensions in which time flew slower than this one. "Who´s Monty?"

Harry frowned. "Monty Grover, you met him on your first night on the cruise, Herm. Have you lost your memory? Quick, what´s my name?"

Hermione smiled at him. "You´re Harry James Potter, I´m Hermione Elizabeth Granger, your father was an Animagus--a stag--and his school nickname was Prongs. Sirius Black, your godfather and escaped convict, is also known as Padfoot, or Snuffles, and Remus Lupin, our former Professor, is a werewolf called Moony. No one speaks about Wormtail, unless it´s to curse him."

Harry relaxed somewhat. "You don´t know how worried we were."

"We?" Hermione echoed.

"Me, Alexa, Claudia, and, well, Carmichael," he added grudgingly.

Hermione was only saddened by the fact that Harry couldn´t even bring himself to say "Ron." "Have I missed much?"

"No. There were many questions about your absence, but I told everyone, except Claudia and Alexa, that you had taken ill and were staying in your room. Carmichael came to see you, so I had to tell him the truth.

"I believe the girls are around here somewhere, would you like to see them?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Send Alexa," she stressed the name slightly, "in first."

Harry nodded and, obviously reluctantly, he left. Hermione had just sat up and taken note of her surroundings (as she suspected she was in the ship´s infirmary) when Alexa skipped in.

"Hermione! Oh, you don´t know how worried everyone was! Four days! Harry was ready to throw himself overboard! We had no idea what happened to you. Captain Jack was drunk again, and Claudia and I had to keep and eye on Harry."

"Hello, Candace," Hermione said calmly.

She froze and all the color drained from her face. Nervously she avoided Hermione´s steady gaze.

"You must still be ill. I´m Alexa, remember?"

"Oh, I remember Alexa," Hermione replied coldly. "Your twin sister who´s locked away in another dimension somewhere!"

Candace turned absolutely white. Her eyes reflected her fear and her lips tightened.

"You can´t tell anyone!" she whispered desperately. "I don´t know how you know, but if you say something, they´ll kill her!"

"Who is `they´?" Hermione asked urgently. "Who are you working for?"

Candace looked like a cornered rabbit during hunting season. She twitched as her eyes flickered toward the door.

"I can´t," she whispered fearfully. "They´ll kill her, then me!"

Her eyes suddenly turned cold.

"I´m really sorry about this, Hermione, but for everyone´s safety, this is the best choice.

"Obliviate!"

* * *

Hermione must have fallen asleep again because she woke up and it was dark in the infirmary. She struggled to sit up and then decided she needed to walk around.

Some kind soul, Harry no doubt, had left out a robe and slippers. In fact, Hermione was sure Harry had done it since the robe was more of a negligee and the slippers were these ridiculous affairs she had purchased on a whim but were utterly useless as shoes. Still, they were the only things she had available, so she put them on.

As she ventured quietly onto the deck, she was somehow not surprised to see Ron leaning on the railing, staring out into the ocean. He seemed to always be around when no one else was. Sometimes Hermione wondered if he was a spirit, rather than a flesh and blood person. But, no, she still remembered the feeling of his arms as they grasped hers. He didn´t turn as she approached, but when he spoke, his words were directed toward her.

"I was worried about you," he said quietly.

"I dreamed about you," she returned, realizing as she spoke that it was true.

"I´ve only known you for such a short time," Ron said, still not looking at her, "but I feel as if I´ve known you all my life."

The tears were back. Ron was destroying her.

He was still talking. "When I heard you were missing, I panicked. I didn´t know what to do, I felt so lost." He turned to look at her finally, and Hermione was startled to see that he was shaking. Impulsively she moved forward and placed her hand on his.

He turned away, but didn´t move his hand. "Why did it feel like my entire world was falling apart? I barely know you!"

He sounded so angry. Hermione took his hand in hers and just held it, as she stared out at the water.

"I don´t know," she said finally. "The desires of the heart rarely make sense."

Subconsciously she put her head on his shoulder. Her heart was racing at their close proximity. Then Ron shifted and she pulled back.

"What is it?" she asked self-consciously.

His eyes were inspecting her face, as if to memorize every feature. Hermione could feel her face grow hot, and she lowered her eyes.

"You´re beautiful," he said simply. "I think that I could meet a million women and none of them would compare. You´re not just beautiful, you´re...radiant."

Her eyes met his and she saw something in them that she had wanted to see since she was seventeen. He bent his head down as she lifted her face up, and in one fluid moment their lips met in a slow, deep kiss.

Hermione broke away first. Breathing heavily she stepped back a few paces.

"I can´t," she said roughly, struggling to hold back tears.

"Why not?" Ron asked in a voice that shredded her resolve to pieces.

"Because you don´t remember."

Ron stared at her. In a tight voice, he asked, "Remember what?"

She sighed, a breeze blowing her robe against her legs and her hair out in waves.

"Remember Hogwarts."

And she walked away.

* * *

As she walked back to the infirmary, she ran into Monty Grover. Wanting to express her gratitude (and exercise her curiosity), she held out a hand to him.

"Monty? I just wanted to thank you for finding me. I have no idea what happened to me, I must have been hit from behind."

She smiled brightly at him, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in her head. He nodded and shook her hand.

"It was quite by accident, Miss Granger. I have no idea how you came to be in my former room."

Hermione froze. "I beg your pardon?"

"I had a mild case of sea sickness and needed to be in a cabin below deck where I couldn´t see the ocean around me, so I switched rooms. As far as I know, my room was left unoccupied, and I moved to one of the available rooms downstairs. I had returned to the other room searching for my eyeglasses, and discovered you--unconscious. So naturally, I raised the alarm."

Hermione didn´t know what to say. "And you´re sure your old room was empty?"

"Certainly. There was no luggage, no personal effects, and the password hadn´t been changed yet so I could go inside."

Her mouth was hanging slightly open. What would she have been doing in Monty Grover´s abandoned room? Trying to remember her time in the alternate universe, she failed. It was all too blurry now. But what she didn´t quite understand was how she got out.

"Well, thank you anyway," Hermione said, pulling herself together. She realized she was still only wearing a thin robe and nightgown, and flushed slightly. Monty didn´t seem to notice anything amiss. With a slight bow, he walked off in the opposite direction.

She went back to her bed in the infirmary and lay down, suddenly feeling very weak and tired. She tried hard to remember everything that had happened in the other dimension, and attempted to keep her thoughts off of Ron, but it was fading, especially the part after she had fallen. Hermione shuddered. It was miraculous that she had survived.

What Hermione did remember was her growing fear of insanity, which was only strengthened by the fact that she had been missing for four days, while it had only seemed like one.

She was reflecting on this as Jack the captain came in. He didn´t look drunk, but he was green around the mouth. What was wrong with that man?

"Professor Granger," he said in a tone of absolute relief. "Thank Merlin you´re all right."

Hermione regarded him coldly. "No thanks to you."

He turned red. "An unfortunate accident to be sure, but you´re all right now, no lasting damage." He tried to laugh. "Glad you´re back with us."

She glared. "Jack, you are the most incompetent person I have ever met. Who allowed you to become a captain?"

Jack grew flustered. "I assure you, Professor Granger, that I do not normally act the way I have for the past week. I´m sure you can appreciated how stressful my environment has been."

"That´s no excuse," she scolded. "In the past few days there has been a murder and a kidnapping! I was assaulted!"

"I apologize, Professor Granger, but accidents will happen. You cannot blame me for your failure to watch out for your safety."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed, outraged. "Wait just a minute--"

But Jack was gone. Hermione sat in the bed for a few moments, attempting to put her thoughts in order. Once she was alone, she got out of bed and rooted around in the cabinets, looking for a torch. She tossed things around, completely disregarding all else in her search.

"Ouch."

She froze and turned around. Harry was standing behind her, rubbing his head. He smiled at her.

"I think you hit me with a bottle of iodine. What are you looking for?"

Hermione put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Harry, I´m so sorry. I was looking for a torch."

"Why?" he asked. "Haven´t you got your wand?"

She laughed. "Of course, how foolish of me!" She pulled out her wand. "Lumos!"

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked curiously.

"I thought I´d do a bit of sleuthing," she said cheerfully. "And you´re coming with me to make sure I don´t disappear again."

He frowned. "I don´t think that´s a good idea, Hermione. You were in considerable danger last time you decided to go investigating. Perhaps it´s best to let sleeping dogs lie."

Hermione felt herself grow angry. "Harry, I was kidnapped and assaulted! A man is dead! I want answers!"

He put a hand on her shoulder and drew her into his arms. He just held her tight as she shook with anger, fear, and helplessness. She pressed her face into his jumper and breathed in his smell, that comforting, only Harry type smell. She relaxed slightly, but as she pulled back, she took a firmer grip on her wand.

"I´m still going to look for the truth, Harry."

"Then I´ll go with you," he replied. "I don´t want anything more to happen to you."

Hermione went behind a screen and put on a jumper and some slacks. She came out and walked out with Harry, both their wands lit. They walked out onto the deck and quietly headed towards Martin Franklin´s room. Hermione pushed on the door and it opened.

It was set up just like her own. Apparently, since the body was gone, the captain had felt it was safe enough to send a maid to the room. The bed was made and stripped of it´s bloody sheets. There was absolutely no evidence of anything having happened in that cabin.

"Hermione, what are we looking for?" Harry whispered.

"I´m not exactly sure," she admitted. "Evidence."

"Evidence of what? You still haven´t told me what happened to you! And where´s the body?" His voice had risen to a normal level by now. Hermione was worried he´d wake other passengers on the ship.

"Shh. I assume Jack made arrangements to have it taken away somewhere the other passengers were less likely to encounter it. Here, look through the drawers and see if there´s anything that could possibly explain why Martin was murdered."

Harry sighed and opened the chest of drawers along one wall, tossing articles of clothing behind his head. Hermione looked in the desk drawers, but there was nothing but a pad of paper, some pencils and pens, and a bible. She was momentarily frustrated as Harry´s search turned up nothing as well. She was beginning to think that perhaps whomever had killed him had also taken away all of his personal effects, but then she had an idea.

She knew that the maid service had changed the bedding, but would they have changed the mattress? And even if they had, because it was bloodstained perhaps, they would have brought it back once it was cleaned.

Tiny clues were beginning to come together; nothing substantial yet, but Hermione had the suspicion that Martin had been more than an Ambassador. And he had had an air of paranoia about him, the type of man who would go to great lengths to make sure that his secrets were well kept. The safes were too easy to break into, he´d never use them.

Harry watched her with his mouth hanging open as Hermione went to the bed and ripped off all the bedclothes. With a slight strain she lifted the mattress first and checked underneath. She hadn´t really expected anything to be underneath the mattress.

She inspected the sides of the mattress and found what she was looking for. There was a small slit along one side, held closed with a couple of messy stitches, the kind you could easily pull apart. It was almost indistinguishable from the rest of the bed. Hermione ripped open the stitches and put her hand inside the mattress. Triumphantly she pulled out a very tiny book.

"What is that?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"I can´t say for certain," Hermione answered, "but I´d bet that it´s Martin Franklin´s journal."

"You can´t read that!" Harry exclaimed. "Those are his private thoughts!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, Harry, when did you become such an old maid? The man is dead, I don´t really suppose he´s going to complain. I´ll need to make it larger of course." She tapped it with her wand. "Much better. Ah, just as I thought. `The Journal of Martin Franklin,´" here Hermione´s eyes widened, "`MIA.´"

"What?" Harry asked. "What´s MIA?"

"Magic Intelligence of America. Martin wasn´t just an ambassador, he was a spy!"

Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I don´t think this is a good idea, Hermione. Put it back and let´s go."

Hermione glared at him and he shut up. She turned to the first page and read the first entry aloud.

"`Just received the news,´" she read. "`You-Know-Who´s back.´" She looked up at Harry in surprise. "It just ends like that. The next one isn´t for two more days. Let´s see, it says:

"`Have been busy making preparations. Will leave in a few days to alert the Caribbean Islands. They are unprepared, it will be slaughter if I do not get there quickly. Should take a Portkey, don´t understand the need to travel as an Ambassador. No one can be stupid enough to think that the United States would send an ambassador to islands under its control. Can´t believe it´s true. Hope I´m not too late.´"

She sat down heavily on the bed, the journal still clenched in her hands. After a moment she spoke. "This one´s a few entries later.

"`Have just introduced myself to Hermione Granger. She didn´t know. Afraid I may have blown my cover, but it was necessary. After all, she was one of the ones who defeated You-Know-Who, or thought they did, and I felt she had a right to know. Didn´t tell her everything, nor should I have. Some things are only matters for the MIA. You-Know-Who´s whereabouts are under close surveillance, am sure there´s nothing to worry about.´"

Clearing her throat, Hermione continued. "The next afternoon. `Something´s wrong, can tell. There are many suspicious characters on board and am certain that some of them know something. Hope he hasn´t left the Bahamas. He can´t be strong enough, right? He still needs his sacrifice. And Am certain that he hasn´t gotten it yet. After all, am sure that Harry Potter´s in no danger on this cruise. He´s well protected."

Harry had gone pale under his tan. Hermione looked up at him in concern and saw that he had stumbled against the desk. He was breathing heavily.

"Harry, are you all right? Do you know what Martin was writing about?"

He shook his head, unable to speak. "Never mind, continue."

Reluctantly, Hermione read the next entry. It was the day of his death. "`Something is definitely wrong. Perhaps she´s followed me. But that´s ridiculous. Beginning to worry that I won´t make it to the islands in time. Think someone´s trying to make sure I don´t make it to the islands in time. No matter. Will be perfectly safe."

Hermione choked back a sob. He hadn´t been safe. Someone had murdered him.

"Harry, do you know what this means?" He was still pale and unresponsive. "Voldemort´s still alive. He´s in the Bahamas."

Suddenly Hermione had an image of Voldemort in a Hawaiian print shirt and straw hat, sitting on the beach drinking a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella. It was too disturbing for words.

She shook it away. "Harry, we have to do something, we have to warn someone! Martin´s dead now, he can´t do his job." She stared at the journal in her hand. "This can´t be all there is too it. Where´s his briefcase? What about his other personal effects? Harry, did you look in the closet?"

Harry silently walked to the closet door. "Do you smell something?" he asked.

Then he opened it. Unceremoniously, a dead body fell out. Mitzi the maid´s dead body, in fact.

Hermione screamed and Harry jumped back in horror. Once she got control of herself, Hermione sat down and whispered, "Is she dead?"

Perhaps it wasn´t the most appropriate question, but Harry nodded grimly. He turned her over and Hermione could see the knife wound in her back. The weapon itself, however, was missing. Harry grimaced in disgust. Hermione held her nose; the stench was strong, she was amazed they had missed it earlier.

"I´d say she´s been dead for days." Harry wrinkled his nose. "To judge by the smell. Whoever did it figured that no one would look in here because there was already one dead body." He carefully picked her up and put her down in the bathroom, washed his hands several times, and left, shutting the door behind him.

"She knew something, Harry," Hermione said blankly, shuddering. "Oh, Merlin, we didn´t listen to her, we didn´t give her a chance to speak. She knew something about Martin´s death and was killed for it!"

She started to cry and Harry draped an arm over her shoulders. "I can´t do this anymore, Harry. There are two people dead, and the murderer is still at large." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I´m scared, Harry. I don´t want to play detective anymore."

He led her out of the room and shut the door behind him. "Come on, Hermione, let´s go back to the infirmary, I think you still need to rest."

She only put up a token protest. "I can rest in my own room."

"Sure you can, but some of your things are still in the infirmary, so let´s go get them and then we´ll take you back to your room, okay?"

Hermione nodded and they left Martin´s room. As they were leaving, the door two doors down swung open and Rita Skeeter leaned against the frame. She was wearing a floral print loose cotton dress, her rhinestone studded glasses, and a vacant expression. She was alert enough to already have a quill in hand, however.

"What´s going on? I heard a scream." As a tribute to her utter lack of compassion, she didn´t seem concerned, only intrigued. Hermione was tempted to slap her.

"Nothing, Miss Skeeter. Go back to bed," Harry said, steering Hermione away.

Becoming suddenly animated, Rita whipped out a notepad (which Hermione recognized as the kind the ship provided) and put her quill to it.

"Out late aren´t we, Harry?" she said with saccharine sweetness. "Having a midnight stroll with your love, perhaps?" Her quill raced across the pad as she spoke.

Harry glared in annoyance. Hermione was ready to toss Rita overboard. On second thought, however, she blurted out:

"Why didn´t you mention that Martin Franklin was a counter-intelligence agent?"

It was perhaps the first time in her twenty-odd year career that Rita Skeeter was at a loss for words. She stared incomprehensibly at Hermione, her mouth hanging open.

"I beg your pardon?"

Hermione realized her blunder, which she attributed to lack of sleep, her very large headache, and her recent traumatizing experiences, plural. She hoped that Rita hadn´t caught the most important mistake in those words. She was not that fortunate.

"Was?" Rita added a moment later, her quill already on the move. "And why wouldn´t he still be? Has he met with an accident? Is Ron Weasley involved?"

Harry gave Hermione a look that clearly said, `Shut up now.´

"I don´t know what you´re talking about, Miss Skeeter," Harry replied, giving Hermione a gentle push in the direction of the infirmary. "You´ll have to excuse her, she´s had a very difficult experience, and no," Harry said, cutting Rita off before she could begin, "she does not want to discuss it with you. Good evening."

They hurried away quickly, but not before Rita could get in one parting shot.

"Try as you may, no one keeps a story from Rita Skeeter. Besides, it´s foolish of you to antagonize me, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. I keep my ear to the ground. I know far more about your little friend than you ever could. I suggest you watch yourselves."

Harry didn´t bother to respond and Hermione fought the urge to stick her tongue out. How dare she speak about Ron! She had some nerve.

Hermione allowed Harry to escort her back to the infirmary, and then to her room. She collapsed on her bed without taking off the robe and slippers and assumed that she imagined it when Harry kissed her on the forehead. She fell asleep immediately.

However, still suffering from mild insomnia, she woke only a hour and a half later. She heard voices outside her door and went to open it, only to discover that it was open a crack, and that the two people outside weren´t there to see her. Reminding herself that it was poor form to eavesdrop, she did it anyway.

"I don´t like this, Doc," the first voice said. It was a woman, and it sounded vaguely familiar, but disguised as if the woman definitely didn´t want to be recognized. "They´re on to us. The entire plan´s going down the toilet."

"It won´t be much longer, Leona," said the second one, a man. "I´ll see to it that you get a medal for this."

The woman identified as `Leona´ laughed hollowly. "What good is a medal if I´m dead? You know as well as I, Doc, that this mission is suicide, or at least it is now. It seemed so simple in the beginning. Stop a couple of Death Eaters from delivering their sacrifice to Voldemort and thus bringing about his complete resurrection. No one mentioned that someone aboard the damned Minnow was going to be murdering people. We´ve already lost Ben, and an innocent civilian. Who´s next? We´re too understaffed for this, Doc. We can´t all watch him at once."

The man, `Doc´, sighed. "I know, it´s like watching a magician. He keeps disappearing in a puff of smoke. We´ve got to get him to safety. I knew this was an idiotic idea. He trusts her absolutely, there´s no way we can convince him she´s the enemy."

It sounded as if Leona had punched the wall. "God, this is so frustrating! We´re just waiting around to die!"

"Will you keep it down?" Doc hissed. "Are you trying to wake the entire ship? At least keep it down near Granger." Hermione jumped at hearing her own name. "You haven´t spilled anything have you? You know that´s what did Ben in."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" she retorted. "I knew he wasn´t cut out for field work. No, I haven´t told her anything. Do you have any idea how hard that´s been?"

Doc laughed. "Hard? Think about my position for a minute. It´s been near impossible! She´s been suspecting, and I can´t do anything about it, because in order to cover myself, I have to fabricate more stories, until I´m so wrapped up in my own lies I can´t remember what´s true anymore."

"This is."

There was a minute´s silence. When Leona spoke again, she was a trifle short of breath.

"Don´t forget, Doc, we´re only doing our job. There are sacrifices."

Doc seemed angry. "It´s not fair to sacrifice her after all she´s been through!"

"You´re not falling for her are you? That wasn´t part of the plan. Damn it, I knew you were too involved."

"Shut up. I don´t give a damn about Granger. It´s all an act. I needed to know more about her relationship with him."

"Fine. Just do your job and keep an eye on her."

Leona seemed to have pushed some buttons.

"That wasn´t my fault. She just disappeared! I was sure they had killed her already."

They were talking about her again. Hermione slipped back towards her bed to think about the conversation she had just heard.

Harry was the sacrifice needed, according to Martin´s journal. Whoever Leona and Doc were, they were trying to protect him, which put them on her side. On the other hand, they seemed ready to do away with her, which put them on the side of the enemy. The mysterious Ben seemed to be Martin, and he was on her side, right? Which put his friends on her side. Oh, it was all too confusing, trying to figure out where loyalties lay.

And Doc had said that Harry "trusted her absolutely." Who else could the `her´ be but Hermione? Doc had also said that she was the enemy, but Hermione wouldn´t try to hurt Harry, unless some action of hers had given them the wrong impression.

Who were they really? Why didn´t they reveal themselves to her like Martin had? Then again, on second thought, perhaps they were doing the proper thing.

Now Hermione wasn´t sure whom to trust. Of course, she hadn´t been sure of whom to trust since she came aboard the ship.

She fell back asleep with in moments, but was awoken a short while later by a knock on her door. Stumbling out of bed, she made it to the door and peered through the peephole. It was Ron. She opened the door and blinked to clear her vision.

Yawning, she said, "What is going on?"

Ron grabbed her wrist and pulled her from her room towards the infirmary. He was practically running, and Hermione stumbled over herself trying to keep up.

"What is happening? Ron, unhand me!"

He placed a hand over her mouth and pulled her closer to him. They were in the doorway of the infirmary and in the moonlight, Hermione could see the bed she had occupied earlier. She also heard a lot of noise coming from the room. There were clashes and clangs as if whoever it was was ripping the room apart.

"Shh," Ron said, pulling her inside quietly. "Look."

He pointed to a figure who was rifling through the cabinets. After a moment the figure, in a frenzy, ran to the bed that had been Hermione´s. Then he took out a knife. Hermione gasped and started forward, but Ron held her back.

"I saw him sneak in here earlier, and I had to warn you."

"Warn me?" Hermione asked in confusion, but Ron shushed her again.

The figure brought the knife down in a stabbing motion several times, ripping apart the pillows. Feathers flew everywhere. He ripped off the sheets and swore loudly. Then, almost robotically, he turned and his face was illuminated by the moonlight. Hermione gasped again.

"Captain Jack!"

~*~