Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 9

Face Off

Hermione tapped her fingers on the desk. "She's late."

Harry shrugged. "She'll be here, don't worry."

"Who says I'm worried?" Hermione watched as Shra paced, her feet padding against the stone floor. She glanced at the door and her ears flicked back.

That was curious. Was it possible that she didn't know where Elessar was? She kept that thought to herself; Harry wouldn't listen anyway so she let her mind wander. A new map was posted on the wall, its edges brown and fraying. Could it be as old as the other one?

The maps fascinated her. Perhaps it was the similarity to books, a doorway through time. There was something about these maps though, magic seemed engraved into its parchment. The swirl lines indicating waves swayed and a storm passed over Gondor. Even from where she sat, Hermione caught glimpses of forked lightening. It was history unfolding - they were not simple drawings.

She would often come here when Elessar was gone, studying the maps. Who knew what secrets they held? Hermione fingered the Time-Turner hidden under her shirt. After all, she did have a few moments to spare.

Shra froze and lifted her nose. Hermione twisted in her seat and saw Professor Elessar come through the doors. Her green clock was covered in dew and the hem of her dress was soaked.

"Forgive my lateness," Elessar said, but Hermione caught the worried tone in her voice. No one else seemed to notice, they were all to busy joking that it was all right if she hadn't shown up.

Shra leapt towards Elessar, knocking a stack of parchments onto the floor with her tail. A few rolled to Hermione's foot.

Elessar knelt and stroked Shra. The look in her eyes softened, but she seemed hesitant. Had they disagreed over something? Maybe even a fight? "Umin tuvs, fëa vanwa i sírëllo."

Hermione snagged her quill and wrote down the elvish, or at least what she thought the words sounded like.

Shra nudged her head in Elessar's shoulder.

"I fána rocco varna. Umin tuvs tanna Black."

Shra moved back. Both were ignoring the student's questions, everyone wanting to know what Shra was saying.

"Vá quentë ana sina Remus." Elessar stood abruptly. She did not look at Shra.

"We were hoping you wouldn't show," said Dean.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Elessar answered, hanging her cloak on a peg.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked. "It looks like you went for a morning stroll in the Dark Forest."

"I did."

The students sat there, mouths open as they stared at her. Shra grabbed a mouthful of Elessar's dress and yanked her towards the front of the class. The tension between the two was gone. Or was that just an illusion?

Laughter replaced the shock, the perfect distraction from Elessar's appearance. Hermione's eyes narrowed. It was brilliant; who would suspect that a wolf was drawing attention from Elessar's strange actions?

Granted, this wasn't difficult because the students had a special place in their hearts for Shra. The wolf added something extra to Hogwarts. The pranks she pulled with Fred and George were the talk of the school. It was well-known that Elessar got lectures daily from the staff, especially from Snape.

"That is quite enough Shra," Elessar scolded and picked up the knocked over papers.

Harry nudged Hermione in the stomach. "You're closer, help."

Hermione sighed and gathered the papers that had fallen near her.

"My thanks." Elessar put down the rest and took the two from Hermione. It was a simple statement and yet Elessar just had to look at her like that; it set Hermione's nerves on end.

"Sure," she said and then sat down.

Elessar straightened and addressed the class. "Today you will take your first steps in elven magic. First, I would like a review in elvish."

Several students moaned, including Harry. Hermione didn't pay attention. She had other things to worry about, like translating what Elessar said to Shra. The classroom faded and the voices became a backdrop as she concentrated on the scribbled elvish.

The sentences weren't complex like she had feared. Hermione brushed her quill against her lips. She could do this.

"I did not find him, his spirit vanished from the current."

Him, who's him? Could Elessar be talking about Sirius Black? After all the attack had happened three days ago, but vanishing from the spirit current? How could that be possible?

"I fána rocco varna." Let's see. Fána rocco meant 'white horse.' There weren't any white horses running around the Dark Forest, unless...?

"Unicorns," Hermione whispered. That had to be what Elessar meant. So a unicorn was safe, what did that mean?

She translated the next sentence to say, "I also found no trace of Black." The initial person who Elessar was looking for, was someone other than Sirius Black.

Her brain hurt; this was getting complicated. If only she could hear what Shra had asked. That might fill the gaps.

The last part was easiest to read. "I will not speak to Remus of this."

Hermione shook her head. What was going on? Wasn't Elessar supposed to be good friends with Remus, but the rumor lately said that they were in a fight.

"Hermione?"

Her head shot up to see Elessar staring at her. "Yes?"

"Please translate for me, 'I know your strength in war."

She put down her quill, careful not to look at the parchment in case Elessar figured out what she had been doing.

War was ohta and tuo meant strength.

She pictured the maps and the battle at the Black Gate of Mordor came to her mind. The translation came to her just as she remembered two short people running, swords high in front of a smaller army.

"Inyë hanya tuolya ohta," she said, careful to get to the correct pronunciations.

Elessar nodded. "Five points to Gryffindor."

What? That was the first time Elessar had praised her.

"Now, you each have a feather and the name for it is 'quessë.' Please repeat."

"Quessë," the students said in unison.

"Close your eyes and unlock your senses like we have practiced. Picture the feather. Its shape, color and how it feels. As you do this say, 'Quessë."

Hermione did as she was told. This was silly. No respectable witch or wizard did this. But what if...? Whose to say that she couldn't learn elven magic? No one of course, except herself.

"Quessë," Hermione whispered.

Nothing special happened, but Elessar didn't say anything was supposed to.

Again she remembered the maps and the way they came alive. How was that possible? After all it wasn't logical, and yet it happened anyway.

"Quessë," she repeated. The word vibrated off her lips and the feather in her mind twitched.

"Quessë." The color changed, from a pure white to gray then brown. Wait a minute, she felt something!

Hermione opened her eyes. Professor Elessar stood in front of her and nodded. "Very good, Hermione."

"Quessë," said Harry.

Hermione sat shocked as Harry's feather swayed on the desk. She looked down at her now brown feather. "But how?"

"That is the power of my magic," Elessar said. "You called on the feather's spirit and it listened." She smiled and left to speak with Neville whose feather had turned a bright blue.

"Can you believe this?" asked Harry.

Her fingers trailed down the length of the feather. If she was disarmed she wouldn't be helpless. Had she been wrong about Elessar? After all, Dumbledore did trust her. Hermione sighed.

Why didn't she like Elessar? It was just something she felt when she first laid eyes on the elf, a pull in her gut that told her this elf was more than she seemed.

But who had Elessar been talking about? Hermione hadn't seen Shra worried before, but she clearly had been. Had Elessar been in danger? Hermione bit down on her bottom lip; she couldn't wait to tell Ron and Harry. Maybe they would finally believe her!

The class period flew and they continued with these same exercises. "Wasn't that excellent?" Ron asked when the lesson was over. "My feather turned three different colors."

"I could have sworn mine floated," Harry answered.

"That was pretty amazing," Hermione admitted.

"Well, imagine that," Ron laughed. "I reckon you're finally realizing that Elessar isn't so bad."

"That has nothing to do with it. Her magic is amazing, but that doesn't mean I trust her."

"But even still," Harry said, "she wasn't able to stop Black."

All thoughts of telling them about Elessar's conversation fled at Harry's forlorn expression. Sirius Black was after him and she was concerned with Elessar. She had forgotten about him, so caught up in her own conspiracies.

"Do you think Dumbledore has any idea how Black got in?" asked Ron as they left the classroom.

"I don't know, but Snape seemed to think that Black had help." Hermione glanced at Elessar's classroom. A couple stragglers filed out, their faces lit with excitement. Shra trailed after them and spotted Hermione. Her fluffy tail wagged once before she trotted in the opposite direction.

Maybe she could help Harry, or at the least put to rest what's been going on. Either way, Elessar could be trusted or she couldn't; it was time to find out.

"Nah!" exclaimed Ron with a shake of his hand. "They'll never cancel Quidditch, not even for Black."

"Hey, Hermione, what's with you?"

"Oh, what was that?" She turned to them and noticed the odd looks on both their faces.

"You haven't heard a word we've been saying," Ron stated.

"Of course," she pulled her book-bag higher up on her shoulder. "Listen, I need to talk with Professor Flitwick, I'll meet up with you guys later."

Before she gave them a chance she hurried off the other way. Darted to an adjacent corridor and pressed against the wall. When the coast was clear she headed to the classroom.

Professor Elessar sat at her desk, writing with a bright blue quill. A hand massaged her forehead and she closed her eyes. Dark rims hung above her cheekbones. In a human this would indicate a lack of sleep, but what does that mean for an elf?

Hermione was about to announce her presence when a thought stopped her. Elessar shouldn't be this exhausted. She was an elf; these normal things didn't affect her. It went along the same lines that Dumbledore could never be weak. And yet, it was happening. Why didn't she feel triumph at this realization; Elessar wasn't untouchable?

"Please come in, Hermione."

"How did you...?"

"I heard you. You must be quieter."

Hermione frowned; she had been quiet. A change in topic was in order. "Is that Neville's feather?"

"Beautiful, isn't it? I asked if I could have it." She gazed at Hermione. "That isn't why you're here."

Hermione placed her bag down, unfazed by Elessar's straight-forward statement. That just made her job easier. "No, it isn't."

Elessar nodded. "Then ask what you wish about Black."

"I..." she glanced at the floor.

What was wrong? This was her opportunity so why didn't she feel right? Maybe it was Elessar tired appearance; she didn't need a student accusing her of being in league with an escaped wizard.

"Professor, is there something wrong?"

Elessar's eyebrows lifted, the only sign of surprise Hermione could see. "My thanks for your concern. I am only weary."

"Are you sure? I thought elves didn't sleep much."

"I see you've paid attention. Lately my spirit has been in need of rest. Don't concern yourself, it will pass."

"Oh." That's curious, why would her spirit be tired?

Elessar placed her blue quill down. "Shra did an excellent job distracting everyone, didn't she?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"They all forgot I was in the Dark Forest and was late to class, except you."

Hermione nodded, her throat having gone dry. She fiddled her tie, Well, that's because I don't trust you."

"Yes, I know. I've been curious as to why."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "Because, well you're an immortal. You've come back for your own reasons. I can't imagine you left paradise to teach children elvish magic."

"So my being an 'immortal' means you should distrust me?" Elessar stood and walked to the map of Middle-Earth. A wistful expression crossed her face as she brushed her hand over the small city that read Minas Tirith. "I gave up that life."

"You may have left your elven home, that doesn't change who you are."

"Perhaps, then what about you?" Elessar asked. "Do you consider yourself a Muggle or a witch?"

"Well, that's silly I'm a..."

"Witch? Are you sure? And what of your parents?" Elessar asked.

Hermione's fist clenched. The anger she felt was not directed at Elessar, but at herself. Her first impulse had been to deny her parents, proclaiming she was a witch. But she was a witch. She went to Hogwarts and learned magic. Did that she discounted her parents blood?

"Hermione," Elessar continued, "you are right to distrust me. I have not earned your trust."

This truth, so easily spoken, surprised Hermione. There weren't many people who counseled against complete and blind trust. Dumbledore trusted Elessar. If she, a student, had put together pieces of Elessar's past, specifically the phial, then there's no way that Dumbledore didn't know.

So where did that leave her?

Hermione shifted, her focus traveling to the map. The words, 'Fangorn Forest' jumped out and she remembered the conversation with Shra. "What happened last night?"

Elessar smiled. "I will be more careful who we speak in front of."

Hermione blushed. "Well, you are teaching elvish."

"This is true. I had not expected the speed of your advancement." Elessar sighed. "Last night had nothing to do with Black. The Forest was in pain and called out to me."

"Why? What happened?"

"I do not know."

"Don't know or won't tell me?"

"I shall leave that for you to discover."

Cryptic and evasive, probably a criteria in order to be an elf. Hermione was going to reply when she noticed Elessar stiffen. Professor Lupin walked by and hesitated when he saw them. Without saying anything, he continued on. So, the rumors were true.

"Umm, Professor did the two of you have a fight?"

"A fight?" Elessar asked. "Yes, he is angry with me."

"Oh, I'm uh sorry to hear that."

What was she supposed to do? Comfort her? A hug or pat on the hand? None of that seemed appropriate.

Hermione fidgeted with her tie and an uncomfortable silence settled between them.

"I apologize," Elessar said shaking herself from whatever world she was in. "You came here to speak with me about Black."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

The question no longer felt important. She had glimpsed into something else, a larger pictured that she hadn't been aware of. However, she might as well ask what was on her mind and deal with the consequences. "I wanted to know if you were the one that gave Black the phial."

"I see." Elessar opened a window with a wave of her hand, allowing a breeze in. Her face relaxed. "You are preparing Hagrid for Buckbeak's trial."

The evasive responsive didn't surprise Hermione. "Yes, I am. What does that have to do with you and Black?"

"Everything."

"What?"

"Who's to know every thread, every connection that exists? I can't claim that. Nor can Dumbledore or even you. Everything is connected."

"And Sirius's Black?"

"It is a strange thing that he is bound to Fate, and yet the only one who remains free to choose."

Elessar's words pulled at her. For a moment Hermione stood at the edge of a vast lake. The mist was dense, but there were hundreds of lights, little lanterns that floated above the water.

"What are you talking about?"

"There is more than we see." Elessar gestured to the spot on Hermione's chest where the Time Turner lay. "What I say will not matter. You shall leave this room distrustful of me, but following your own path."

"And Black? What about him and Harry?"

Elessar's shoulders fell. "The Ministry is keeping secrets from Harry, this you both know. Harry will discover them. I and the staff shall remain silent. Black will face judgment; not even he can escape that."

Hermione bit her lip. "So even if I were to ask you again if you gave Black the phial, what would you say?"

"I would say nothing," Elessar said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She moved to her desk and opened a drawer. "This is for you."

Hermione took the old parchment. "What is it?"

"A gift."

Hermione carefully unrolled the parchment and froze. "Professor this is..."

"A map. Actually, it was mine while I traveled Middle-Earth. I no longer need it."

Perhaps a bridge formed at that moment. Elessar challenged Hermione in a way no one else had before. The other teachers would not have stood against her accusations; discipline actions would have been taken. However, Elessar forced Hermione to see beyond the facts.

She glanced down at the map. Just as Elessar said, there were connections everywhere and she now held one of them.