Through Darkness and Light

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 13

Map's Memories

The scratching of Hermoine's quill against the parchment was the only indication there was someone in the library's corner. For years this spot had been deserted, not even those students looking for a quiet place to snog ventured here. Whether it was the oppressive silence or some other reason, Hermione didn't know. She was grateful for its sanctuary.

A fortress of books surrounded her with just enough space for a parchment. Wind pounded on the nearby window and every few minutes a sharp whistle resonated, air that slipped underneath the glass. Hermione had requested several times to Flich that he fix the alignment problem.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she flipped through a reference book looking for the precise attributes of a lockbard's root hairs. Nothing. This book only covered monocot plants, not ferns or intermediaries. Figures that Snape would give them a homework assignment on a plant that had yet to be classified with definite data.

She sighed and tossed her quill down. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't focus. Was she coming down with something? She felt her forehead. No fever. Then what was wrong with her?

Except that she already knew and it had nothing to do with her health. She couldn't stop thinking about Harry. Ever since that trip to Hogsmeade he had distanced himself from Ron and her. It was almost as if he was reminded of something when he looked at them and Hermione could see the anger in Harry's eyes, but pain as well.

This wouldn't make the truth hurt any less and revenge wouldn't bring his parents back. She just wished that he would open up; tell her what he was feeling just so he could get it off his chest.

To think Harry's own godfather was the reason his parents were dead. How could Dumbledore and the Ministry keep that from him? Harry had a right to know.

Maybe she should have told Harry about her conversation with Elessar a few weeks ago, it might have prepared him. At least then he would have known that the Ministry had ordered the teachers to keep silent about the reasons for Black's imprisonment.

A folded piece of brown parchment peeked out from her back. Her hands moved off their own accord. She took the old, fraying paper and unfolded the map. If her thoughts weren't on Harry or school, they were on this piece of history that the world had forgotten.

The fact that Elessar had given her this treasure surprised Hermione. Why did Elessar give this to her? The one student who outright distrusted.

Elvish script flowed neatly underneath the words 'Middle-Earth.' Her fingers trailed across the map's surface. This map was nearly 3,000 years old. Even now that thought sent chills through her.

A trace of magic brushed against Hermione. What was that? She felt it again, a soft brush against her senses. Hermione relaxed her mind, like Elessar had taught them, and opened herself up to the fëa current.

There were times during the evening when she could sense the fëa around her even though she couldn't see. However, this was the first time she got this feeling during the day.

"Strange," Hermione mumbled to herself. The current felt different today, almost as if the spirits were more defined. Why was it so easy to access?

Hermione let go fëa current. Everything was all right, perhaps she was just advancing more than she thought. Maybe if she ran into Elessar she would mention it. Maybe.

Something on the map caught her eye. There were marking in the bottom of left corner. That wasn't possible. She couldn't have overlooked something like that, not after 3 weeks of studying it. Hermione leaned closer. The color was off and appeared to be faded ink.

Hermione dug through her backpack and found her magnifying glass. She was right. Looking closer, her nose nearly touching the parchment, she saw that they were words.

"A journey alone," she read out loud. What did that mean?

She scanned the map and recognized other similar spots with faded writing. Why would Elessar write on her map? Was it even Elessar's writing?

Near the forest labeled Fangorn, Hermione studied a set of imprints. It was darker than the others, somehow preserved better or were more recent.

"Loss." Hermione jerked back. "What...?"

The script glowed, a pulsing white light that flowed as if someone were retracing the words. The world dissolved, colors changing into the parchment's aged brown. The map distorted and the blurry outlines of trees appeared.

Her mind screamed to pull back, to close her eyes and dispel whatever power was taking a hold on her, but she didn't. What's was going on?

Two figures emerged from the mist and the haze clung to their forms as they walked towards her. They were of the same height and build. A breeze swept past and their hair moved the same way.

"Who are you?" Hermione whispered.

They drew closer and she squinted, trying to make out their features. It was clear by their shape that they were men, but she had never seen anyone wearing that style of clothes. Clasped about their throats were cloaks woven from a fine material that shimmered in the filtered light.

"Tunics?" she asked aloud. No one wore tunics anymore, not for the last few hundred years. Hermione's knees shook with that thought. This was Elessar's map.

"Is this her memory?" No sooner did she ask that question then their features cleared and her mouth dropped. Elves.

They were everything and more she had imagined, unlike Professor Elessar who had hints of modernization about her; time had not tampered with these elves. They moved with a grace dreamed of and held a beauty she saw even in this colorless world.

There was movement to the right and another person materialized, wearing a similar style of clothing. Hermione's eyes went wide. "Professor?"

The change was astounding. Instead of Elessar's face being a mask of indifference, now Hermione saw a torrent of emotions. There was anger mingled in with hurt as Elessar watched the two approaching elves.

"Hello, little niece." The elf to the left spoke, his voice emotionless and cold.

"Elladan," Elessar replied. Her gaze flicked to the other elf. "Elrohir."

The one named Elrohir nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "It warms my heart to see you safe, Calrheane."

Elessar stood there, her hands clenched. "You have never concerned yourselves with my welfare. Why have you come here?"

Hermione hadn't seen this raw anger from her teacher. In fact she had been under the belief that feelings were beyond Elessar, a human trait that she lacked.

"That is hardly the welcome I expected towards your uncles." Some emotion flashed across Elladan's eyes, to fast for Hermione to recognize. "Though that is to be expected considering you were raised by one mortal guardian."

"Elladan." Elrohir gripped his brother's arm and shook his head.

"My apologies," Elladan said to his brother. Hermione noticed he didn't speak those words to Elessar.

"Why are you here?" Elessar asked.

"Your father," Elrohir said stepping closer to Elessar. "He is dying. Arwen asked that we seek you out."

Elessar stepped back and shook her head. "That can't be."

"The king is dying and will not last the next new moon, Arwen will soon follow him." Elladan's voice was deep and unforgiving. "She has chosen to remain with Aragorn even in death." He turned around, cloak billowing out behind him as he disappeared into the mist. "I will see you in Valinor niece."

Elrohir tarried, his eyes remaining on Elessar. After a moment he reached out and his fingers brushed her cheek.

Unshed tears filled Elessar's eyes as she pulled away. "I don't need your comfort or kindness."

"Calrheane, I..."

"Chose not to give it when I was alone and feared; when I needed it most," she snapped, her voice tinged with hurt. "And both of you, half-elves, were the only ones who understood. But you will always follow Elladan, and I have accepted that."

The scene before Hermione became distorted and the images blurred. The power that brought her to this place left and it felt like her energy was sucked from her. With strength she didn't realize she had, Hermione shut her eyes and forced her body back, away from the map she knew rested so innocently on the table in front of her.

Her chair rocked back and she gripped the table to keep from falling. She breathed, filling her lungs with as much air as possible. What was that?

"Hermione?" a voice asked, worry and concern prominent in his tone.

She blinked. "Harry?"

"Are you all right?" Harry stood beside one of the bookcases frowning at her.

"Yes, I'm fine." She waved him off as he came towards her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" A dark sweater had replaced his regular school robes and she noticed a pair of gloves sticking out of his front pocket. "You didn't hear me calling your name; it was as if you were in some kind of trance."

"A trance, no it was nothing like that. I was just so engrossed in my work that's all."

"You look pale." Harry pulled a chair across from her.

"Really, I'm alright. And besides, I did hear you calling my name, it just took awhile for you to get through." She did her best to smile, hoping to relieve Harry of his worries.

She couldn't tell him what happened; it was just too personal. Heck, she felt like she had intruded and even if she didn't like or trust Elessar, that was her memories. Hermione had no right to tell Harry about them.

But what had happened? Why was she able to see that memory in the first place? Elessar wouldn't have given her this map if her memory could be seen. Or did she?

Hermione felt like yanking her hair. And of course all the while Harry sat there staring at her with that concerned look on his face. Her mouth snapped shut as she realized that the map was still in front of her. If he saw it, then that would lead to questions she didn't want to answer. Harry would know only one person Hermione could get a map like that from.

"So Harry, what are you doing here anyway? You normally stay clear of the library; or at least this part." The books in front of her blocked Harry's view. Carefully, so as not to attract his notice, she slid her potion's assignment out from underneath the map

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was actually looking for you."

"You were?" Hermione's hands stilled, leaving the parchment half visible. Her heart thudded and she fought to control her breathing.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I didn't know what to do. I guess I wanted to be alone."

"Ron and I both understand, but you can't let it eat you up like this. I know you need space but forgetting your life isn't going to bring them back."

"I know." Harry sighted. "I can't get Sirius Black out of my head, of what he did."

"If I was in your shoes I'd probably be handling it worse, but you're not alone." She smiled, hoping to give him the comfort he needed.

Harry smirked. "You? No, you'd keep a clear and level head like you always do. But I just needed some time, now though, I guess that's why I was looking for you; I just needed to talk."

"I'll always be there." Hermione dropped her parchment and reached across the stack of books, accidentally knocking several over as she squeezed his hand.

"Thanks." His eyes trailed down to the table and frowned. "What is that?"

Hermione froze and panic swept through her as she let go of his hand. "What's what?"

"That." He stood up a pushed aside her books, opening a pathway straight to her exposed map. Harry picked it up and his eyes narrowed as he examined it.

"Oh that, it's nothing really."

"Hermione, this isn't nothing. Where did you get this? This looks like what Elessar has up in..." he trailed off and he looked at her. "What is this?"

She knew that one question held within it about a dozen others. Why did Elessar give it to her; why didn't she tell him; why did she lie to him? And she had no idea what to say. She didn't even understand why she hadn't told Harry in the first place. It wasn't like she had something to hide and yet here she was doing just that.

"Really, it's nothing. Just a map Elessar gave me." She knew that was the wrong thing to say before the words even left her mouth.

Harry needed her trust, needed to feel like she was there for him, and she just went and did the opposite. What was wrong with her?

"Is that right?" Harry leaned back, his eyes never once leaving hers.

"I didn't tell you because it didn't seem important."

"You talked with her?"

"Yeah."

"About Black?" Harry prompted.

Hermione nodded. There was no sense keeping that from him; not even Ron would be thick enough to believe that Hermione had a conversation with Professor Elessar without bringing up Sirius Black.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I was going to, but there didn't seem like any point. I asked Elessar if she gave Black the phial and she wouldn't give me any kind of answer. All she admitted too was having secrets and that the Ministry was keeping something from you."

"And you didn't feel that was important enough to tell me?"

"No." She hated herself even as she said that one simple word, but lying wouldn't help her out now. The truth was at the time there was no point in telling Harry, nothing she assumed that could have been gained by what Elessar said. Obviously, she was wrong.

"We knew that the Ministry was keeping something from you about Sirius Black," Hermione reasoned. "Mr. Weasley much said that to you at the beginning of term. If Elessar had said something, anything about Black, I would have told you."

Harry bowed his head and placed the map back on the table. "You know what? Just forget it."

"Wait Harry!"

"I'll see you around." Giving her one last look, Harry walked back through the aisles.

"Please, I'm sorry." Hermione's knees shook and she slid down into her chair.

The map lay on the table where Harry had placed it, but the curiosity she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by an empty feeling. Why couldn't she just tell him the truth? Why was she so confused?

"This is that stupid elf's fault! If she hadn't given me the map in the first place I wouldn't have lied to Harry. And what was I even protecting? Her feelings? I don't even like her!" Her arm darted out and knocked over a stack of books.

Except it wasn't Elessar's fault. It was hers.