The Hardest Choice?

Hermione glanced at Harry as he and Ron propelled her at pace towards McGonagall's office.

He hadn't spoken to her since she'd shown them her wounds and she had the distinct impression he was trying to avoid her eye. Ron, meanwhile, still had the look of a deer caught in a car's headlights.

She sighed inwardly. She had done the right thing hadn't she? Maybe she should have done as she'd planned and gone to Dumbledore on her own first...

McGonagall wasn't in her office. Harry swore in frustration. Now what?

"If yer lookin' for McGonagall she aint 'ere." Filch had been lurking down the corridor.

"Who else would we be looking for in her office?" Harry replied caustically

"I dunno, you tell me." Filch grinned all over his grubby face. "Or maybe yer'd like to explain to Dumbledore. Wonder what the punishment for nosin' round a professor's office is..."

"Fine," Harry snapped. "Take us to Dumbledore. That's who we want to see anyway."

Filch shrugged and shuffled off. "'Fraid I can't do that. He aint 'ere either. But I'll be lettin' him know, mark my words."

Harry swore again and thumped the door, partly through irritation at Filch, but also at the news that neither Dumbledore or McGonagall were in the school. How long would they be? This was urgent.

He looked at Hermione for the first time in the last twenty minutes. She was pale and drawn.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

She nodded.

"You aren't in pain?"

"No, actually it doesn't hurt at all." Hermione sounded surprised.

Harry frowned. Hagrid wasn't around either, he was away on 'school business'. He'd refused to tell them anything else about it, quite a feat for Hagrid, so whatever it was must be important.

Who else could they turn to?

At that moment, Harry was shoved aside by a Slytherin boy, who pushed his way through them without a word of apology. Harry started after him, on the brink of saying something.

But then a horrible realisation dawned on him. It made him feel ill. There was only one person he could think of who knew as much as McGonagall and Dumbledore. But it wasn't anyone Harry wanted to go to.

He bit his lip. He didn't know that he could trust this person, in fact from everything he knew, it was the last person he would trust. But anyone else would ask too many awkward questions.

"Harry?" Ron asked, finding his voice at last. "What are we going to do? Hermione looks ready to faint."

Ron was right. She was as white as a ghost. That made his mind up.

Harry turned abruptly and headed down the stairs, Ron stumbling after him supporting Hermione. Outside the Great Hall, he headed straight for the corridor and the stairs down to the basement.

"Where are you going?" Ron panted. Harry didn't answer. He passed the Slytherin common room, and Firenze's Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and proceeded down to the room where Potions lessons were held.

"Snape?" Ron asked, bewildered.

Harry stopped and turned to him. "Do you have a better idea?"

"But why Snape?"

"Because he's a member of the Order, like you said. He knows about my other dreams. And next to McGonagall, he knows the most about what's going on with Voldemort."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea..." she began.

But Harry was already knocking loudly on the door. He went in without waiting for an answer.

Snape didn't look up from his desk. He continued writing with his eagle-feather quill.

"Go away," he said curtly.

"We can't do that," Harry said.

That voice made Snape raise his eyes. "Well, well...Potter. And to what do I owe the...honour...of this unexpected visit?"

Harry took a deep breath, determined to ignore Snape's jibes. "We need to talk to you."

Snape eyed him suspiciously. "You? Need to talk to me?" He seemed stumped for words. He looked back to his papers. "Well I have no need whatsoever to talk to you. Leave."

"My dreams have started again," Harry pressed on, lowering his voice so that even Ron had to strain to hear him.

That got Snape's attention. He glanced at Hermione. She was leaning heavily against Ron.

"What's wrong with her?" Snape demanded.

"She was in my dream-" Harry began. But Snape silenced him with his hand. He waved his wand and a silencing spell settled around the room. Ron swallowed uncomfortably.

"Continue." Snape stood and approached Hermione.

Harry briefly explained about his dream, and Hermione's wounds.

"A chair, Weasley," Snape ordered. Ron scrambled across a desk to get one. Hermione sank into it gratefully.

"You say the wounds don't hurt?" Snape asked Hermione. She shook her head. "Let me see them."

Hermione's eyes opened wide in horror.

"Hey, hang on a minute!" Ron protested, but Snape barked at him to be quiet. "I can assure you, Miss Granger, that I have no interest in anything other than the wounds," he told her impatiently.

Hermione glanced at Harry. Reluctantly he nodded. Hermione looked at the floor and lifted a little of her shirt, just enough to show most of the scars.

Snape looked grave when he turned away. "Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall will be back shortly. In the meantime, I suggest you take Miss Granger to the hospital wing. Those wounds are infected."

Ron made a hasty move to leave. Harry helped Hermione up and then whispered to Ron to take her. "I'll catch up with you later."

Ron looked from him to Snape.

"Just go, I'll be ok," Harry assured him.

Ron didn't bother to argue. He just wanted to get out of there. He disliked being around Snape without a roomful of classmates as a buffer.

The door closed with a thud.

Harry turned back to Snape, who had resumed his writing. "Well?" he demanded.

Snape looked up, one eyebrow raised derisively at him. "Well what Potter?"

"Do you know what's going on? Is it the same thing as before?"

Snape eyed him through his long greasy hair. He pursed his lips. "I don't believe it is Potter."

"Well what is it then?"

"I think Professor Dumbledore would be best answering that." Snape indicated the door.

Harry ignored him. "Do you know what The Breaking is?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because that's what Voldemort said. 'Witness the breaking'."

Snape's eyes strayed to the chair where Hermione had sat. He appeared to be frowning. Harry waited for a reply.

"The breaking..." Snape murmured. "It can't be..."

Then, as if remembering Harry was in the room, he pointed to the door. "Out, Potter, and shut the door."

"But-" Harry began.

"Out!" Snape repeated forcefully.

Harry hesitated before deciding it was best to go. As he closed the door, he chanced a peek back. Snape was sitting with his head in his hands.

Harry's curiosity piqued. What was The Breaking?

And why had it thrown Snape?

* * *

Harry slipped into the hospital wing. He looked around for Hermione and Ron but couldn't see them.

Then Ron's head popped out from behind a curtained off bed at the far end of the room and he beckoned Harry over.

Harry took a chair next to Ron. Hermione was lay on the bed, sleeping.

"Madam Pomfrey gave her a sleep potion," Ron explained. "She says the infection will clear if she has complete rest for a couple of days."

Harry nodded. "She looks a bit better already." Hermione did indeed have a little colour coming back in her cheeks.

Harry relayed to Ron what had happened with Snape. "He knows something, I'm sure of it," he finished.

"The Breaking?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. Voldemort mentioned it in the dream."

"Do you think it has something to do with Hermione?"

Harry shook his head. "It might. It seemed to. And Snape's reaction pointed to that too." He frowned. "I really wish I knew what Snape knows..."

"I guess we'll have to wait until Dumbledore gets back," Ron concluded.

"Not necessarily. There might be something about it in the library." He nodded to Hermione. "She'll be ok here. Let's see what we can find out."

The library was busy with pupils in their NEWT and OWL years. Harry brushed away the fact that he and Ron had done little studying so far. Their NEWTs weren't until next year; they had plenty of time yet.

He and Ron pondered over which section to take. Magical History was a possibility, unlike Muggles and the Wizarding World, which they quickly discounted.

Eventually Harry decided to look in Ritual Magic, while Ron started in the Historical Events in Magical History.

Ron searched for over an hour but found no reference whatsoever to a breaking of any sort. When his eyes began to ache, and his stomach rumbled hungrily he went to search for Harry.

He found him sat at a table reading a large dusty red volume, with yellowing pages and fading fancy script.

"Found something?"

Harry shook his head. "The only mention of a breaking is in regard to the breaking of a magic circle."

"Maybe that's it?"

Harry shook his head doubtfully. "I don't think so." He closed the book with a thump and gazed over towards the restricted section.

Ron read his thoughts. "Another outing for the cloak?"

Harry got up stiffly and stretched. "Looks like it. We'll see what Dumbledore has to say first." He dropped the book he'd been reading onto Madam Pince's desk as they left and headed down for what was left of dinner.

* * *

Ron picked up a spoon and delved hungrily into a serving of apple crumble, sprinkled with cinnamon and drenched in delicious smelling vanilla custard.

Harry watched him. He had no appetite. He just wanted to know what was happening with Hermione and what part his dream had played in it.

He didn't have long to wait. Before Ron had swallowed his first mouthful, young Dennis Creevey approached them. "You're wanted in Dumbledore's office, both of you."

Harry shot up from the table.

Ron followed slowly, somewhat reluctant to leave his dessert. He sighed wistfully. Maybe he could pop down to the kitchens later and ask Dobby if there were any leftovers.

Harry had left the Great Hall by the time Ron caught up with him. They hurried up the stairs to Dumbledore's office where McGonagall was waiting for them. The stone gargoyle leapt aside when she gave the password and the three of them stepped onto the moving spiral staircase.

Snape was stood just inside the cramped and cluttered office, trying to keep a distance between himself and Fawkes, Dumbledore's beautiful phoenix.

Dumbledore himself was seated behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of his face. He motioned for the two boys to sit.

Harry chose not to. He looked from Dumbledore, to Snape, then to McGonagall and back to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stood slowly. "I want to hear about your dream, Mr Potter," he said quietly.

Harry looked at Snape again. "Hasn't he already told you?"

"I want to hear it from you. Please, sit down."

Harry took his seat beside Ron. "Well, as you know, I had a dream last night," he began.

"Was this the first one?" McGonagall broke in. Harry nodded.

"Please continue Mr Potter." Dumbledore started pacing as he listened to Harry. He stopped him when he got to the part about Hermione's wounds.

"Yes," he gazed at Harry over the top of his glasses. "I have visited Miss Granger. Very strange that the wounds give her no pain..." He seemed to ponder this for a moment until Harry interrupted him.

"Professor, do you know what 'The Breaking' is?" He deliberately glanced at Snape from the corner of his eye and felt sure he saw him flinch at the question.

"Hmmm?" Dumbledore gazed at Harry blankly. "What was that? Oh yes, The Breaking. No, it isn't a term I'm familiar with..." And he too glanced at Snape.

Snape certainly seemed uncomfortable. Perhaps for this reason, Dumbledore asked him to fetch Madam Pince. The look of relief on Snape's face as he slipped out was evident.

This intrigued Harry. He planted himself directly in front of Dumbledore. "Snape knows what The Breaking is, doesn't he?"

A silence fell. McGonagall shifted awkwardly, and Dumbledore for the briefest moment seemed lost for words.

"Please Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall. I need to know. I didn't know enough last year, and the only person living that I could call family died because of that."

Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a look. Harry watched them both hopefully.

Then without a word, McGonagall left.

Dumbledore returned to his chair. "I believe you have a lesson starting shortly. Good day to you both."

Ron stood hesitantly.

Harry stepped closer to the desk. "Please Professor. I don't want Hermione to be put at risk because of me."

Dumbledore peered up at him. "I can assure you Mr Potter that Miss Granger's situation is not as a result of something you have done. Or, indeed, haven't done," he added. "Now, on your way..."

Ron pulled Harry away when it was clear he wasn't going to go on his own.

Once they were back in the corridor, Harry swore. He kicked out at the only thing he could, the ugly old gargoyle, and had to leap away as it snarled at him before settling back into stone again. He landed on his back on the floor.

Ron held out a hand to help him up. "Looks like I was right then."

"About what?" Harry grumbled, dusting himself off.

"That it's time your father's cloak was dragged out again..."