A Capacity for Love

CHAPTER 3

All Saints' Day, 1996

It was dark when they materialized just outside the Hogwarts gates. They were sent back by Portkey. Hermione imagined that's how they were smuggled out, too, although she had no memory ofit.

She didn't know whether it was the same night or the next one. She didn't imagine that more than a few hours had passed, but on the other hand it might have been a day that they had spent in that tiny room.

She was wearing her pyjamas again, tops and bottoms (she'd burn them when she got inside) and Sandy was wearing her blue nightshirt. Both of them were stained and had stiff spots. Oonagh had on a black robe (presumably a Death Eater second, but without the hood); and Lisa her nightgown, which had once been yellow but was now covered with dark filth. She was conscious now and able to walk, but she was apathetic and unresponsive, allowing herself merely to be guided by the other girls.

It was cold; there was no wind, but the air was penetrant, and the stars glittered icily in the blackness above. The gravel in the road leading up to the gates was frozen in place in the mud, and jabbed painfully into Hermione's bare feet. The four of them hobbled mutely up to the gates, which were, as usual, closed for the night. There were lights on in the castle, but judging by their sparsity, it was either very early in the morning or very late at night. Oonagh reached out with the hand that wasn't supporting Lisa and rattled at the flared iron gate latch, but it didn't give. Without their wands, they couldn't trigger the mechanism or signal their presence to whomever was on night duty at the castle.

"Hey!" Oonagh yelled up toward the main building.

Hermione shushed her with a frown. "You'll wake half the inhabitants!" she hissed. "Anyway, Hagrid's the only one who can hear you from here," she added, her teeth chattering.

Oonagh frowned at her crossly. "If he's the only one that can hear me, it hardly matters how loud I shout. And Hagrid will do fine for opening the gate for us."

Sandy was standing against the fence, her forehead pressed against the metal bars. A shiver seized her body momentarily. "Look, there's a light coming," she murmured.

Hermione and Oonagh's heads snapped in the direction that Sandy was looking. It was true: there was a light bobbing along somewhere in the expanse between them and the castle.

Hermione tried to think about what they should say when Hagrid got there, but her brain was working so slowly. It felt again for a moment like it had when she was under the Imperius Curse: thick and far away. She shook her head and tried to get a grip. "We can't let him know what's happened. We'll say... We snuck out last night to go to Hogsmeade, but we got locked out, and Lisa fell down and got hurt in the dark."

"Without our wands? In our pyjamas?" Oonagh snorted. "Even Hagrid'll see through that in a second. We don't tell him anything," she said firmly. "He has to let us in, and we only talk to Dumbledore. Period. That's what we agreed. Right?" She looked around at the others.

Hermione nodded mutely, wondering distractedly what was wrong with her powers of reason.

The light was bobbing more quickly now, and they could see a pale, pinched face underneath a tall, pointed hat in its glow. The figure stretched its wand arm out and the gate's latch clicked downward. Oonagh and Hermione reached out at the same time and pushed it open. It wasn't Hagrid, but rather Professor McGonagall.

"Girls!" Professor McGonagall's distress was evident. "Good heavens, we've just received word. How terrible! Thank goodness you're all all right. Are you--" She stopped short as they came close enough for her to see them properly. Her lips compressed as she took in the sight of them, and her eyes flashed in momentary anger.

"Professor, Lisa needs to see Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

"I am taking you all to the hospital wing," Minerva said sternly.

"Oh, no, I'm all right," Hermione said bravely. "We have to see the Headmaster right away."

"It's really very important," Oonagh chimed in. "I'll be fine, too."

Professor McGonagall eyed the swollen purple skin surrounding Oonagh's eye. "You will come with me to the hospital wing." She turned her attention to Lisa, who was standing shivering between Hermione and Oonagh. "Miss Turpin," she said gently. "Miss Turpin, are you able to walk on your own?"

Lisa stared at the ground. Her breath was coming in short, low gasps.

"She won't say anything, Professor," Hermione said in a low voice, as if she didn't want Lisa to hear her talking about her.

"Come here, Miss Turpin," Minerva said kindly, reaching out to take Oonagh's place as Lisa's support. "I will help you. Miss MacDermott and Miss Granger are injured themselves."

But Lisa flinched away from the professor and gripped Hermione's arm more tightly. "I think we'd better just get inside quickly, if that's all right," Hermione said, uncomfortable with being the one to override Professor McGonagall's orders.

Minerva gave Lisa a penetrating stare, then turned and held her wand aloft. "Come along. Quickly, then!" And the five of them made their way up the path to the safety of the school.

+++000+++000+++

"Hermione." Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain around the bed on which Hermione had been sitting for a good hour, giving them privacy. She smiled warmly at the student. She and Hermione had become close during the months Hermione had spent on the ward, both recovering from her Polyjuice experiment, and from her petrification. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to you. The others seemed to have suffered more urgent injuries."

"That's all right. I'm pretty well, actually."

"We'll just have a look, shall we?" Madam Pomfrey inspected Hermione's face and head, taking extra time to look into her eyes. "The Imperius?" she asked, her voice neutral.

Hermione nodded.

"Have you experienced any dizziness? Headaches? Disorientation? Inability to think coherently? After the Curse was lifted, I mean."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think so. Not that I remember, anyway." She paused. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, satisfied. "That's to be expected after exposure. It should clear up in twenty-four hours. Now, let's have a look at the rest of you. Remove your shirt, please."

"I told you, I'm fine. They didn't really do anything to me." Aside from That. But even that pain had faded. Mostly.

"Please, Hermione." Madam Pomfrey held her wand at her side and stood there patiently. "I think you know I only have your best interests at heart. That, and the Headmaster will insist that I make a thorough examination, in order to determine what...harm has been done." As Madam Pomfrey spoke the last few words, it seemed to Hermione that her normally professional facade softened a bit, showing her deep concern for her young patient.

Hermione sighed and unbuttoned her shirt. Madam Pomfrey looked her over, front and back. "No contusions. You were very lucky. But the Cruciatus does most of its damage on the inside. Let's just take a look--" She lifted her wand and placed it on Hermione's first vertebra.

"I wasn't put under the Cruciatus," Hermione interrupted.

Madam Pomfrey stopped. "You weren't?" She sounded surprised.

"No," Hermione answered softly. She felt as if she'd done something wrong. All the other girls were, she knew. But she wasn't.

"Well. You were very, very lucky, indeed." Madam Pomfrey came back around to stand before Hermione. "If I may ask, then...What other spells were you subjected to, other than the Imperius?"

Hermione looked down at her hands. She hadn't realized that she was twisting her fingers in her lap. "None," she responded.

"Perhaps you didn't realize it," Madam Pomfrey reasoned. "The Imperius--"

"No," Hermione said, and there was a rasping sound in her throat. She coughed to clear it. "There was nothing. I-- I was only under the Imperius for a short time. A minute, maybe. There weren't any other spells." She raised her eyes, but only far enough to look at Madam Pomfrey's neck. She could see the tendons pulling the skin taut.

Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione an appraising look, and there was a hint of admiration in her voice when she spoke. "You must have a very strong will. To throw off the Imperius so quickly, and protect yourself from everything else. Doing such advanced wandless magic, at your age. But I suppose you are a very special witch."

Hermione didn't answer. Maybe she had, somehow, unconsciously protected herself. Just like she had that summer when she was nine and some big boys threw mud balls with hornets inside at her, and she'd somehow been able to shield herself. But then that didn't make any sense; there hadn't been anything for her to protect herself against last night. There hadn't been any Cruciatus directed at her. No pain. No violence. Nothing...except That. And she certainly hadn't done anything to stop it. She recalled briefly seeing Oonagh across the room, clawing at her attacker, kicking him, fighting him every step of the way whenever he'd briefly let up the Immobulus. But she, Hermione, had done nothing. She'd been told to lie still, and she had. She'd let it happen.

"Hermione?" Madam Pomfrey was speaking to her.

She looked up at the Healer. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear..?"

"I said, would you please remove your pants?" she repeated, patiently.

Hermione didn't move. Remove her pants. The fingers, grabbing at her waistband. A feeling of nausea arose in her gut.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Madam Pomfrey placed her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Lie down now, here we go, you're looking a bit pale." She guided Hermione until she was lying on her back on the hospital bed.

Hermione felt the thick, stiff sheets beneath her fingers. So different from the soft sheets up in the dorms. Madam Pomfrey was pulling the woolen blanket up over her. It scratched horribly against her naked torso, but she didn't say anything. The Healer stuffed a pillow under her feet so that they were slightly elevated. "I'm just going to check on the others," she said, pulling the curtain back slightly. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Try to take slow, even breaths."

Hermione closed her eyes. She heard footsteps, people talking in low voices, the distant clanking of wood on metal. She felt herself losing touch with consciousness, her brain already drifting down the path toward sleep, when a voice right next to her jarred her back out of the depths.

"We have to go see Dumbledore!"

Hermione opened her eyes. It was Oonagh. She was wearing her school robes. Her face wasn't swollen anymore, although the skin around her eye was still slightly discolored.

"I've been waiting for you. Madam Pomfrey took forever on Sandy, but she was done with you pretty quickly. You really didn't have much, did you." She said this neutrally, as a statement of fact, but Hermione felt as if it were a reproach.

Hermione rolled over onto her side and tried to peer through the gap in the curtain around the bed. It was still dark outside. "What time is it?"

"Just past seven."

"Morning or evening?"

"Morning."

Then her dormmates would just be getting up, only now noticing she was gone. What would she say to them? Her stomach gripped again.

"Miss MacDermott!" Madam Pomfrey came back, carrying a tray. "What are you doing out of bed? And disturbing the other patients. I'm not quite done with Miss Granger yet."

She shooed Oonagh out, but not before the other girl had given Hermione a hard look and urged, "Hurry up!"

Hermione lay back again, holding the blanket up against her chin.

"Feeling better?" Madam Pomfrey asked, letting go of the tray so that it hovered in the air next to her.

Hermione nodded. "I'm just tired, I guess."

"Of course, I'll let you get right to sleep. We only need to do one more thing." She perched herself on the edge of the chair next to Hermione's bed and tilted her head so that it was at the same angle as Hermione's. "Now, I know you've told me you weren't harmed magically, aside from the Imperius," she began gently. "But I have to know: were you harmed physically?"

Hermione swallowed over a dry throat.

"I have reason to believe that you were," Madam Pomfrey said, and Hermione knew that she knew. The other girls had told her. Or maybe she could see it, the same way she could see the aftereffects of the Imperius in her eyes. Maybe everyone would be able to see it. Hermione wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

"It doesn't hurt," she whispered. And it didn't, as long as she lay still. That had been good advice: lie still, and nothing bad will happen.

Madam Pomfrey smiled kindly. "That's good. As I say, you've been lucky in many ways so far. But, if a physical attack did take place, there may be damage which you are unable to feel. Internal damage. I'd like for you to let me take a look. I promise I'll do my best not to hurt you."

Madam Pomfrey stood and moved to the end of the bed. The tray followed her. Hermione noticed only now that there were a couple of small glass bottles on it, some cotton swabs, a comb, and tweezers.

"Hermione, I'm going to pull back the covers now. Can you slide your pants down?"

Hermione reached under the blanket and pushed her pyjama bottoms down, and Madam Pomfrey helped her remove them.

"That's fine. Keep your knees up like that, that's it, just a little more apart, I'm just going to take a look."

Hermione stared up at the ceiling and clenched the blanket against her chest, trying to concentrate on the scratchiness against her skin, rather than what Madam Pomfrey was doing. She felt the Healer's fingers, and knew she was trying to be discreet, but it made her think of those cold fingers and that other foreign intrusion. She felt a lump in her throat and willed herself not to cry. She hadn't cried then, and she wouldn't cry now. Sandy had cried. Last night and this morning, during Madam Pomfrey's examination. Hermione had heard her. She knew those sobs by heart now.

After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey pulled the blanket back over Hermione's legs. "That's all; you did very well," she said with a smile. "Again, I think you were very lucky. There was just a small tear, which I've already fixed up for you. We'll know about any possible viral infections in a couple of days."

"Viral infections?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, but you never know," Madam Pomfrey said reassuringly. "Now you just close your eyes and get some sleep. I'll make sure you aren't disturbed."

"Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed, propping herself up on her elbows. "We have to see the Headmaster right away!"

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "I know, Miss MacDermott's been raging at the bit to get up to see him, but as I've already told her: Professor Dumbledore is not here. The Deputy Headmistress has given orders that the four of you are to stay here until he returns and is able to speak to you. She hopes that will be later today."

"And my dormmates?" Hermione asked, agitated. "Do they know...that I'm here?" And do they know what happened? was her unspoken fear.

"All of your dormmates have been informed that you were taken ill during the night and are being treated here. However, they will not be allowed to see you until after you've spoken with the Headmaster. Minerva's orders." It was clear that Madam Pomfrey was in complete agreement with the Deputy Headmistress.

Hermione lay back on the flat hospital pillow and was about to close her eyes when she realized she was still naked under the blanket.

"Madam Pomfrey?" she called.

"Yes?" The Healer stopped just as she was about to leave the area.

"May I... Could I have my pyjamas back, please?" Not that she particularly wanted to put those filthy things back on, now or ever. But being naked was worse, at the moment.

"I'm afraid we have to keep them until the investigation is completed. Professor McGonagall has had a set of your robes sent down from your room." She nodded at the chair beside Hermione's bed, where a black bundle lay neatly on the seat, and then swished the curtain shut behind her.

Hermione sat up and began pulling her clothes on. They were freshly laundered and felt cool and fresh, and when she lay down again and pulled the blanket up over her, she felt almost normal. Until the flashbacks began.

AN: Next up: Snape.