Digging The Hole and then Climbing Out

Digging the Hole, And Then Climbing Out

Chapter One

 

And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead us there are blinding

There are many things I would like to say to you

But I don't know how

Because maybe

You're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all

You're my wonderwall

-- Oasis, Wonderwall

 

Harry forced a smile for the waitress. "A black coffee, please."

The waitress, who was about his age or younger and very pretty, jotted that down and gave him a heart-melting smile. "That's it?"

"Yes," said Harry tiredly.

The lady wore a nametag proclaiming her Merinah. She nodded and took his menu. "It should be ready in a few minutes. Don't wanna keep anyone waiting." She grinned at him and swaggered off.

Harry thought she looked vaguely familiar and flattened his bangs over his scar self-consciously. He couldn't have anyone recognize him. It was very dangerous for him to even go out for coffee, but he was tired and needed someplace warm and a seat.

He also needed to find Hermione. She was his only hope, and he didn't know where to look to find her. He had threatened her into running away, though the memory of the time was hazy and he didn't remember anything except telling her to run. She probably would never even trust him again...

But she was his only hope.

The girl named Merinah came back over to him, carrying a steaming mug of coffee. She set it down on the table. "See? I keep no one waiting. Didn't even taken five minutes. We don't get very many customers anymore, ever since that new café opened across the street." She rolled her large blue eyes. "The son of a..."

"Thank you," said Harry, referring to the coffee.

Merinah flashed him a brilliant smile. "No problem. Want some company?" And, not waiting for his consent, she plopped down on the other side of the booth. "Sorry for bugging you, sir, but this store is dying." She sighed and twirled a strand of wavy black hair around her finger. "Wish I could go back home."

Though Harry didn't really feel very comfortable talking to anyone in case he was found, he hadn't had a conversation with anyone other than Voldemort in five years, so he couldn't help himself. "Home? Where's that?" he asked, sipping his coffee. It was hot, and burnt his lips and tongue, but the burn felt oddly satisfying.

Merinah pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Raleigh, North Carolina."

"In America?"

"Yep." She smiled slightly. "My mom kicked me out years ago. I had to go live with my aunt. She lives just outside of London. She died a coupla years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Harry quietly.

"So'm I," Merinah replied. "What about you? Where're you from? What's your name?"

Harry winced. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth. He hesitated and then said the first name that came to mind. "I'm Dudley Dursley, from right outside London."

Merinah's jaw dropped. "No way..."

Harry, suddenly feeling as if he shouldn't have said he was his fat cousin, frowned. "What?"

"You're Dursley!" She raised her hand and slapped the table, jarring his mug, her eyes blinking a few times and the focusing on him. "Well, you don't seem... Are you sure?"

"Er...no?" laughed Harry nervously.

"And I thought... Those tabloids really are bogus. You aren't fat or ugly... Dudley Dursley..." She laughed. "There must be two. God, where have you been?"

"Not here, apparently."

"Dudley Dursley, at least the other one, is the fattest man in the world, my spacey costumer" Merinah explained. "You must be a different one, though. You're kinda skinny, not fat...unless..."

"I'm related to Dudley Dursley," Harry said quickly. "I'm a third cousin."

Merinah didn't looked convince, but she decided against arguing. "Whatever you say." She grinned slyly at him. "I personally get a vibe from you that you're hiding something."

Harry jumped, spilling the coffee onto the saucer and burning his hand with the scalding liquid. He cursed.

"Oooh, I'm so sorry," said Merinah sincerely. She reached into her apron and pulled out a rag and began to mop the coffee off his hand. "Well, I think that confirms my theory." She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him and gave a half smile, still cleaning the table. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little burn, that's all..." said Harry quickly.

Merinah picked the mug and saucer up. "I'll go get you a new one."

"No, don't bother, I have to go now anyway." Harry wet his lips nervously. If this girl suspected he was hiding from something, it was dangerous to stay around her. She seemed nice, and he even considered asking her if she knew a Hermione Granger, but he was too paranoid by then.

He stood up and pulled a five-pound out of his pocket (the drink was actually only fifty-pence, and he didn't even drink it) and stuffed it into Merinah's hand. "Keep the change, I have to run."

He pushed past her and hurried out the door, into the chilly January air. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat (he'd conjured it up with magic and withdrawn some money from a bank Voldemort owned for his colleagues), and walked across the icy parking lot quickly, in a hunched over fashion.

He was brooding over the possibilities of actually finding Hermione so loudly in his mind he barely heard the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him. He glanced around and saw the waitress, Merinah, hurrying after him.

Okay, he thought, agitated, I can stand only so much. If I weren't on withdrawal from murder, I'd kill her.

But he forced his face into a painful smile as she approached, carefully skipping over puddles where the slush had melted. She grinned at him and stopped in front of him. She held out a wad of money and a few coins. "Here, I don't need your charity, Dudley," she said, forcing the cash into his hand. "And while I'm in the process of annoying you, might I say you look quite familiar?"

Harry hastily stuffed the money into his pocket and smoothed his hair down over his forehead. "Might I say you're beginning to grind my nerves?" he snapped, more snidely than he'd meant to. He immediately bit his tongue.

Merinah didn't look hurt in the least. "That's my job. When I'm bored, I'm annoying. You're looking for someone. You're hiding from someone too," she accused, her blue eyes narrowing.

Harry took a step away from her. "H-How would you know?"

A slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "My name is Merinah Gattes, my spacey customer, and I'm a witch. I was supposed to be the next Divinations teacher at Hogwarts. You're Harry Potter, the 'dark wizard,' and you're looking for Professor Hermione Granger." She became solemn at his shocked expression. "And I can help you."

* * * * *

When you were called to Professor McGonagall's office, you should kill yourself before entering. There were rumors that those who went to her office never came out. Even teachers rarely entered. She was supposed to have cast a spell on her office, planted booby-traps, and killed any child who entered without her consent.

Of course, everyone knew this wasn't true. But every week, when Professor Granger went up to see the wizened old teacher, kids whispered excitedly amongst themselves, all wondering if she would ever leave.

This particular morning, when Professor Granger went to see the headmistress, she looked so distressed everyone knew she would never come out.

"This time she's not going to live through it," whispered Narrissa Patters to her friends Sara Beth Kassanra and Marrissa Patters.

"Yes, I swear McGonagall's going to get her!" Claire Parks told everyone as Professor Granger passed by.

They were all fairly right. For McGonagall did have a painful torture in plan for the young Granger, whose face that morning was particularly pasty and gray. She looked on the verge of tears, and all her students pondered why. It was Saturday, after all. Who could be sad on a weekend?

Unless...Professor McGonagall had called her to the office...

"Ooh," squealed Marrissa Patters. "She's really going to get it!"

That she would, but not in the way they would think.

* * * * *

"Hermione," said Professor McGonagall kindly as her old student took a seat in a plush purple armchair by the fire. "You look frightful."

"Thanks," Hermione answered wearily. "I needed that."

McGonagall eased herself into the chair behind her large oak desk, looking stern as she always had. But whenever she looked at Hermione, her eyes warmed gently behind her glasses. "You didn't sleep well?"

Hermione sighed sadly and shook her head. "Too many memories," she mumbled.

McGonagall was silent for a moment, staring out the window by her desk. "Quite right."

"Why'd you call me?" asked Hermione abruptly.

"Hmm?" McGonagall peeled her gaze away from the window and looked Hermione so squarely in the eyes that the young teacher squirmed.

"You never call me," said Hermione carefully. "I just come."

McGonagall smiled. "I do have something to warn you of."

Hermione faltered. "Warn me...of?"

The headmistress carefully placed her hands on the desktop, slowly knitting her long, gaunt fingers together. She took her time and seemed to be considering how to word what she wanted to say.

"Hermione," she finally said, "you never told me you saw Har - you saw him when he killed your parents."

She couldn't say his name. The bravest person Hermione knew couldn't say his name.

But Hermione knew whom she meant. She couldn't deny it, no matter how hard she tried. "I didn't think it relevant," she said carefully.

"Not relevant?" McGonagall frowned. "Hermione, H-he tells you he's going to...to...use you later on in life and you don't think it's significant?"

Hermione looked down at her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I knew I should have told you," she whispered. "It was just too painful."

"You loved him, didn't you?" asked McGonagall softly.

Hermione nodded.

"Oh, Hermione, is that what's been hurting you for all these years? It wasn't Hogwarts, or Ron's death?"

"It was everything piled together," Hermione cried helplessly. "How would you feel...?" She took a deep breath. "How did you find out? When?"

"A news report," said McGonagall delicately. "Har-he was spotted, Hermione, a few miles from here. I...spoke with a specific person, whose name I won't reveal, who's been spying on the dark arts supporters for about three years now. He...overheard a conversation between You-Know-Who and him, about the time he started to spy. He didn't have a chance to reach me until yesterday."

Hermione was confused. She wrinkled her brow. "Harry's here? I don't get it... What's that have to do with me..." She trailed off. "Oh..."

"Yes, Hermione," McGonagall said sadly, "we think he's come for you."

* * * * *

"All right, now will you explain what you mean?" asked Harry impatiently as Merinah dragged him into her apartment. "It really isn't safe for me to stay-"

"Oh, put a sock in it, will you?" snapped Merinah irritably, shutting the door behind her and sliding the chain into the slot. "I have to be cautious, too, you know. If I'm caught helping you, I'm as dead as you are, so shut the fuck up."

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he stared at her in wonder for a moment, still not contemplating why she was helping him. He was a wanted criminal, deadly and feared.

And this strange American witch had taken him to her apartment and said she'd help him. He had a half a mind to think she was trying to corner him, but he was so desperate he didn't resist.

Merinah plopped down in a black leather armchair and kicked off her shoes. "Have a seat, Potter, make yourself at home."

Half expecting the police to jump out at any moment, Harry cautiously lowered his butt onto a sofa, sitting near the edge and almost on his haunches so he could pounce up at any second. Merinah didn't seem to notice or care.

"So you wanna know my story, huh?" she asked tiredly, wiggling her toes about in her stockings. "You wanna know how I knew who you were and how come I'm not calling the Ministry of Magic up right this second?"

Harry nodded slowly.

Merinah smiled at him, looking a bit too seductive for Harry's liking. She leaned forward. "To start with, we've met before, Mr. Potter. It wasn't a very enjoyable first meeting, but we've met, all right."

Harry furrowed his brow. "What? When?"

Merinah leaned back in her chair and rested her feet against the stocky coffee table. "Five years ago. At the Granger home." She lifted her crystal eyes and met his. "When you destroyed Miss Hermione Granger's life."

He sat stone still for a moment, leaning halfway off the seat in anticipation of what this Merinah Gattes would say, not expecting it to hurt him both physically and mentally. It was a horrible memory, one that had been interred over time in his frozen mind. He'd told himself he wouldn't remember, and so, he hadn't. Until now.

So that was why he'd been so frightened to go and find comfort in Hermione. She would never trust him again... What a fool he was.

Merinah opened her mouth, as if to speak, but shut it quickly again. She continued to study him under a sapphire gaze.

Harry closed his left hand into a fist and kneaded it with his right hand, so horrified with the memory he wanted to retaliate against it. But it was an essence, a mist. You can't fight something that doesn't exist physically.

This was the kind of thing that angered him so much he wanted to kill, something there that he couldn't reach but had to, wanted to, yearned to. He'd taken this rage off on others, innocent of the crime, and this kind of fury had ruined his whole life.

He wanted to bring his life back. He had to control it. He had to. But what life is there left, Potter? Voldemort's voice sneered. I have you where I want you. You helped me regain my strength. Now I can destroy you.

"NO!" Harry yelled, jumping up suddenly and knocking over the coffee table.

Merinah's eyes widened in sudden fear and she pounced up, on the verge of fleeing.

But Harry didn't attack her. He stood so still he could have been petrified. Only his chest moved, shuddering violently with each heavy breath he took to calm his anger. He closed his eyes tightly, and after many minutes of forbidding silence in which Merinah stood in a perfect stance to run and in which Harry stood looking quite frightful in his fray against himself, he bent down and picked up the coffee table and set it back up. Then he calmly sat back down and folded his hands in his lap like a good little schoolboy.

Merinah slowly let herself sit down, still staring at him in a mixture of fright and shock. "Good Lord, Potter, do you do that often?" she whispered. "No wonder you scare the hell out of people."

Harry laughed a shaky, wild laugh, but it was a laugh. "No, that's not it. They have better reasons to fear me."

Merinah frowned thoughtfully. "No shit. I was there, Potter. I saw what you're capable of." She smiled gently. "But I don't really believe someone as good as Harry Potter could turn so awful."

It stung, really, being considered awful, but the only outward sign Harry made manifest of his pain was a tightening of his fist, and then he bowed his head and remained calm. "If you saw me then, Ms. Gattes-"

"Call me Merinah," she said forcefully.

Harry nodded and continued. "If you saw me then, Merinah, why are you helping me now?"

Merinah eyed him darkly for a moment. "I suppose so many years in the dark arts makes us more aware of danger, huh, Harry?"

Harry straightened up a bit in response to this, but said nothing.

Merinah sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "You know, for a while there I actually believed you were a horror, Potter, I really and truly did. But I'm the Queen of Divination, and I had a dream." She paused and let out a hoarse laugh. "Dr. Martin Luther King..."

Harry wrinkled his forehead. "Hmm?"

Merinah snapped out of her trance. "Oh, sorry. Never mind." She chewed her lip. "About three years ago I started having this dream. I've had premonitions in dreams before."

"Must be awful," commented Harry quietly.

"Yeah, it is," she replied evenly. "But you learn to cope." She stared down at her hands for a moment before continuing. "It was a weird dream. For a while I thought it was a plain old nightmare, from that visit to Hermione's house when you were there. But it kept happening again and again, and getting more vivid all the time..." She stared at the floor, quiet again for a while.

"What...what was the dream about?" asked Harry, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice.

Merinah swallowed hard. "I was...I was standing somewhere dark. Everything was black... And there...you were there. And so was Hermione... I thought we were fighting, first, I mean, what else should I think?

"But... I heard this voice. This gentle, old-man's voice, deep and monotone." She laughed. "I thought it was God, at first. I was like, 'Whoa, the voice of God is in my sleep!'"

She shook her head, her black hair shimmering over her shoulders in the light, and looked up. She caught Harry's eyes and held them. He wanted to look away; he couldn't. "It was Professor Albus Dumbledore, Harry," she whispered intensely, " and, by God, he still had faith in you." She smiled softly. "So I guess I will too."

* * * * *

Hermione exited Professor McGonagall's office wearing a shocked, pained expression, but very much alive. She was hardly aware of the fact that kids flattened themselves against the walls as she passed, couldn't hear them whisper amongst themselves, "Oh my God! McGonagall turned her into a zombie!"

Hermione's head was swarming, her stomach was churning, and she felt she might throw up her breakfast. Harry was coming for her. Harry was going to use her. And then Harry would kill her.

What was right in that?

Her lower lip trembled and she was shaking by the time she'd reached her room. She stood at the door, befuddled for a moment, having completely forgotten the password.

She blinked repeatedly. I'm worried about getting into my room when Harry Potter is a couple of miles from here? she thought, puzzled. I'm going to die any day now. Why must I worry myself over passwords?

She racked her brain and continued to stare blankly at the oak door. She knew she must have been a sight for the students, their smart, strict Professor Granger, staring stupidly at her door, her face pale and her eyes blank and glazed like a cocker spaniel's.

"Er, Professor?" a timid voice asked.

Hermione turned around, her hair flipping into her face and getting tangled in her eyelashes. She made no move to remove it, just stared at the fifth-year girl behind her, who was wringing her hands nervously. "Yes?" she asked, her voice muffled from her hair.

The girl, whose name was Erika Dunhaven, and Hermione knew it, but couldn't quite remember it at the moment, bit her lip. "Are you...er...all right?"

Hermione suddenly snapped out of her daze and realized what she must look like to the students. She quickly straightened her hair out and forced her eyes back into focus. She put her "stern professor" mask on. "Yes, of course. I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

Erika didn't look convinced. "You look a bit...ill."

"I'm in perfect health," lied Hermione. "And now I must go to..." She suddenly realized she had nowhere to go, having forgotten the password to get into her room. She blinked a few times. "I, er, have to, um..."

"Would you like to join my friends and me at Hogsmeade?" suggested Erika gingerly.

Hermione wasn't really in the mood to go to the cheery town, much less hang out with her students there, but Erika looked sincerely concerned. She quickly decided she'd go to Hogsmeade, yes, and be one of the chaperons. That would surely bring her mind off the horrors it was riveted to at the moment. "I was going to Hogsmeade, anyway," said Hermione quickly. "I just forgot the password to my room and, erm, that's why I looked so distressed." She wasn't a good liar, but she couldn't very well tell Erika the truth.

She almost laughed aloud at that scenario, "Oh, yes, I'm in terror! Harry Potter's coming to rape me!"

She blinked rapidly. No one had quite used that word to describe what was going on. But it was true, wasn't it? It was so true...

Hermione inwardly slapped herself. Stop thinking about it!

"Thank you for your offer, Dunhaven," she said, forcing a smile. "Maybe I'll join you for some butterbeer."

Aha! she realized. Butterbeer! My password.

Erika gave Professor Granger a sideways look and went off to join her friends, waving behind her and calling, "See you in Hogsmeade!"

She and her friends started to giggle about something, and as Hermione told the statue outside her door the password, she couldn't help but feel as if she were the butt of their laughter.

 

* * *