Promises Defended

Promises Defended

Chapter Seven: The New Face of Fear

Hermione screamed like she was dying. In fact, she screeched so loudly that her lungs were immediately sore, as if she was trying to burst eardrums and wake up the entire neighborhood. She screamed as loud as she could, and right in the troll's fat face--but she in no way dropped her wand. She distantly heard Bletchley shout something at the troll about shutting her up, and Moon moaning as her companion removed Hermione's full body bind from her, but Hermione kept screaming. The troll roared back in objection, spraying her with drool and snot, but Hermione didn't care. She just screamed.

After about fifteen seconds of that, the troll dropped her and clamped his hands over his ears, moaning in pain.

Hermione hit the floor and rolled, groping for her wand and coming up empty handed. She dove behind the bigger chunk of the couch as the troll screeched back at her (or at least she thought it was screeching, though it sounded far more like a subsonic rumble), clapping gray-green hands over his ears and shaking his head back and forth like a punch-drunk Auror.

"You idiot--"

"She's--"

"Arruggghhhhh!"

"Don't let her--"

Her parents were still screaming in the basement, high pitched and helpless with pain. The sounds sent a chill down Hermione's spine, making her feel sick--the world was spinning, the troll was moaning/screaming, the Death Eaters were shouting, laughter was coming from downstairs--act, Hermione! Do something! Quick, before they can stop you! Swallowing back the bile in her throat, Hermione tensed for action, trying to judge how far away the door was. Moon and Bletchley were partially out of the way--she could probably slip by before Bletchley could stop her, and--

"Grab her, fool!"

Bletchley shambled forward, and Hermione bolted.

"Hey!"

She'd never been a fast runner. Before she'd gone to Hogwarts, back in Muggle schools, she'd been made fun of for her knobby-kneed gait and her tendency to trip over her own two left feet. Two years of magic and flying on broomsticks (she hated heights!) hadn't done much for her coordination, but Hermione was trying. And she was going to make it! Bletchley had tripped over a floor lamp and Moon was blocked by the still-wailing troll. She was really going to make it--she could leave and get help and get back in time. Her parents were still screaming. Fifteen feet to the door.

Ten. Her breathing sounded like a struggling freight train in her ears, rattling around in her head like a backfiring automobile.

Five. She could just reach--

He sat in the darkness, staring down at the Font. As always, the power shielded behind the grate was both beautiful and terrifying--even more terrifying now that he had begun to understand. Remus shivered.

"This is the answer, isn't it?" he whispered, letting the carefully bundled stack of papers fall from his hands. "No notes, no clues. Just...here."

He watched silently as one hundred and fifty years of painstakingly created notes and theories fell into the world's last Font of Power, disappearing almost as soon as they made contact with the whirling currents. The rainbow dissolved Dumbledore's studies as if they'd never existed, erasing Remus' one physical connection to the Font. Air whispered through his lips. "I understand."

He finally did.

One man. Four men. Walking. Two face to face at the end, so alike, but separated by the one thing that truly mattered.

Four boys. Laughing. Joking. Smiling. Growing.

Hogwarts. As it once was and will always be. Beautiful. Mysterious. Ancient. Watching and waiting, for the time had come. Darkness was encroaching, and Hogwarts would face it--but this was not Hogwarts' world. It was his world, and he would fight. For his world, for his school, and for his friends.

Cold. Flash. Truth.

But some battles were always meant to be lost. Sometimes, the darkness has to be faced to be beaten. Remus shivered again, and realized that this was his turn. Peter had accepted, then conquered his darkness. James' inner demons were enough darkness to suffocate any, yet he remained strong, even with the weight of their world on his shoulders. And Sirius had let the darkness in...not for himself, but for others.

Remus would do the same.

Cold chill.

White light flashed over her head and Hermione dove for the floor. There were more of them--there had to be--and she was doomed. It was over. Her parents were still screaming--weren't they?--and they were all going to die. Or worse. It was over, and...she groped for her wand. I'll fight, she thought desperately, searching the room with her eyes. I'll find my wand and fight.

"Hermione!"

Bill Weasley's voice. Her brain recognized it even when the facts refused to sink in. He seemed so out of place there, couldn't be there. She had to be imagining things.

Startled, Hermione screamed when a hand reached out and dragged her aside, away form the shattered doorframe. Red-white-green light flashed as Bill shoved her against the wall, stepping out of the door to clear the way for another. He had to duck immediately as Moon took a potshot at his head, and Hermione yelped again when red light grazed his arm and Bill hissed in pain. For a moment, he slumped into the doorframe, then bounced away to the right.

"Stay down, Hermione!"

Green light flashed like a thunderclap, and Sirius Black felled the troll. Moon and Bletchley dove behind the same couch they'd destroyed only moments before--it felt like a lifetime--trying to find any cover they could.

The world snapped into focus as she watched her wand jump up off the floor and land in Black's outstretched left hand. Ineffectual spells came from the Death Eaters' direction, but they bounced aside like so much water thrown at a brick wall. Black tossed the wand at Bill, then gestured dismissively with the now-empty hand. Immediately, the couch disappeared, simply vanishing into thin air as if it had never existed. Moon screamed. Bletchley froze.

Bill stepped slightly to his left and handed Hermione his wand even as Moon's came up--but Black was faster and the female Death Eater flew backwards, hitting the wall hard enough to make the ceiling shake. Her wand sailed out the still open door, but no one watched it go. Bletchley was still frozen, still staring. Hermione just gripped her wand and wondered if she wanted the Death Eaters to die or not. She didn't know, couldn't know. Didn't want to know. Hermione was frozen, too.

"Curse them, you fool!" And there was Flint, framed by the basement doorway--but he froze, too. Froze and stared, just like the others. Malfoy almost ran straight up Flint's back before he also skidded to a stop, gaping at Black. His gray eyes even widened to the size of small saucers, and his perfect skin was pale. Hermione slowly turned her head, almost afraid to look. Anything that had three Death Eaters frozen in place and Bill watching with a mixture of awe and fear had to be...questionable.

But Black was just standing there, wand extended and without an expression on his face. Slowly, he quirked an eyebrow at Malfoy, who visibly swallowed, his gray eyes flickering towards the door as if looking for a way to escape. Bletchley was shaking.

Then Malfoy recovered, moving too fast for Hermione's paralyzed eyes to follow. His voice filled the room, echoing ominously. "Avada Kedavra!"

Black sidestepped calmly, moving just far enough aside so that the brilliant green light could not singe the hem of his robes. Then he smiled, and Malfoy shuddered. The Death Eaters on either side of him seemed hardly to be breathing.

"Run," Black said softly when a long moment ticked by and they did not move. "Run while you can."

They took her to Avalon, but not before she'd noticed the red glimmer in Sirius Black's blue eyes and shivered. Yet he'd saved her, him and Bill, and he seemed normal enough. His voice was quiet and his words were kind; he didn't appear evil, even though her intellect told her that he ought to be. Of course, Hermione wasn't thinking as straight as she might have been--she too often found her eyes prickling with tears and her throat tight, but she refused to cry. She would not cry. She would get even.

Bill tried to distract her with books, history, and the ancient ruins that were scattered all over the Aurors' legendary island. It didn't work; she didn't care. Hermione could not feel. She was only empty.

Tonks was Bill's student, Hermione realized, and had not come last night because she'd been with her parents: a "Mudblood" Tonks and a pureblood Black. The young woman was almost as much of a contradiction as her lineage appeared to be, but Hermione liked her. Tonks was honest, and she understood the need for revenge.

"It's not something I've ever been driven by," Tonks said quietly over a breakfast neither was eating. "But I do understand the burn. As long as you don't let it take you too far, revenge is good motivation to become an Auror."

"I hope you never have to feel this way," Hermione responded darkly, feeling far older than twelve. They say that war ages you, the newly mature side of her said. I never understood that until now. Again, she had to swallow back the lump in her throat.

"Me, too," Tonks whispered, then straightened her robes distractedly. "One of my classmates, Jason Clearwater, lost most of his family a few months ago. I know he'd talk with you...if you like."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not interested in sharing miseries. I just want to fight back."

"Well, then, Hermione, you've come to the right place."

Right place, wrong time, she thought bitterly. But in five years, I'll be an Auror. Even if the war ends, I'm not letting this happen to anyone else. For the first time, her life had a purpose beyond learning.

By afternoon, she was sharing lunch with Lily Potter, still not eating much but asking about Harry. Hermione had discovered that if she concentrated, constructing a little box in the corner of her mind, she could lock the pain away. It didn't hurt so much, then, and she could even forget--forget for a moment. Hermione swallowed and had to look away from the older witch. Only for a moment.

"You can stay with us as long as you need to," Lily said gently, squeezing Hermione's hand. "I know it's not the same, but..."

"Thanks," Hermione whispered, having to close her eyes. Shove the pain back in the box.

"We'll understand if you don't want to," Harry's mother said hesitantly. "You've got some cousins--"

She shook her head. They're all Muggle. They'd never understand. "I'd rather stay with friends." The words almost came out normal sounding.

"Harry's with my sister right now, for safety," Lily explained, nodding with understanding. For a moment, Hermione wondered how it had been for her during the war, Lily Evans, but she didn't want to ask. Didn't want to know if this had happened to her, too. "I'll bring you there as soon as you're ready to go." She smiled wanly. "They're Muggles, so Harry probably needs all the help he can get."

Swallowing, Hermione forced a smile. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"There's no hurry, you know."

Hermione shrugged. "I'd...I'd rather not stay here much longer, anyway," she said hesitantly. "It makes me--makes me--think. About...everything."

"I understand."

The link was gone. Silenced. Blocked.

Emptiness. Careful construction, structured coincidences, and unexpected choices had come to naught. Nothing. Nothing?

A chill ran down his spine. It was still there, he knew. There but dormant. Waiting. The link was no longer under his control, and that did not precisely frighten him; it was merely cause for concern. Noted. And Malfoy had mentioned red eyes.

Those words. Six words. He'd not expected them, then had anticipated to discover an idle boast. Yet here they were, and there was red in his eyes. Nothing was idle about this opponent. This was the one upon whom he had been waiting for years. Someone, finally, was worth the effort. Someone worth challenging.

Harry was waiting when she came to the door, and he hugged her without a word. Three days ago, neither would have thought to do so, but this was different, somehow--and Harry seemed older, too. Was this how he always felt, knowing that his parents risked everything every day? Did he always live with the fear of losing them?

His innocent embrace almost made her cry, but Hermione fought back the sudden need. Not with six beady eyes staring at her from inside the clichéd-looking Muggle house, and Lily's soft eyes watching her back worriedly. And then there were the blue ones, almost red, watching over her from the sidewalk's edge. She could feel his eyes, most of all, and sensed that was why Harry's strange looking Muggle relatives did not come out to object.

Hesitantly, Hermione waved goodbye to Lily and to Sirius Black, more aware of the Auror's presence than ever before. There was something about him, something different from the others on Avalon that she'd never managed to notice before. He frightened her, in truth, and she was glad to know he was on their side.

"Let's go inside," Harry said.

"Right." She swallowed.

Black nodded to her when she looked back, seeming to know, seeming to understand. We'll get them, his eyes seemed to say. And a chill ran down her spine. Red flashed, red on blue, evil yet innocent. I will end this, the eyes vowed.