Sometimes That's What It Takes

Chapter 4

Harry Potter was a busy man. Between following up reports of suspected Dark doings; meeting with superiors, subordinates, and friends looking for favours (he couldn't find it in himself to say no to people); trying to make sense of the whole goblin affair; and his new wife of six months giving him constant updates on the state of her ovaries (and expecting him to rush home and be 'ready for action' at a moment's notice), he didn't know half the time whether he was coming or going.

At the moment, he'd holed himself up in his office, trying to catch up on some paperwork. And so when the small, glowing shape poured itself through the keyhole, he didn't pay much attention at first; he assumed it was 'Charger', inviting him to meet Ron for a pint after work. It was only when the creature leapt insistently up onto his desk and gambolled over the monthly arrest statistics that he realised it was an otter, and sat up straight. Hermione didn't usually send her Patronus except in the most extreme circumstances.

Once the silver otter was certain of Harry's attention, it reported in Hermione's anxious voice: "I'm stuck on a cloud; probably over Snape's house. Help!" and then dissolved into thin air.

Harry blinked. How in the world...?

The ten-word limit on Patronus messages was always a bit of a hindrance to unambiguous communication, but Harry knew Hermione always made the best of it, and if she said she was stuck on a cloud over Snape's house, then she was stuck on a cloud over Snape's house. It just seemed like... a rather odd thing to have happened. And the fact that she had said 'help' made it fairly urgent. He exhaled heavily and pushed back his chair. He supposed he'd better get Ron in on this as well. Even four years after they'd left school, Ron would feel slighted if Harry and Hermione had an adventure without him.

He sent his own stag off to Ron, instructing him to Floo to the Wicked Weevil, and headed for the door.

******

I was trying to be brave. I was certain everything would work out in the end. It had been hours since I'd sent the message to Harry, though, and since Susan should have been done with the Professor, and I was still sitting on top of a nimbostratus, feeling damp and cold. And it was getting dark. Dusk would already have passed down below. Here, the sunset had been glorious, all pink and gold, but I hadn't truly been able to enjoy it. The first stars were beginning to sparkle up in the clear, indigo sky. With the sun gone, the temperature was plummeting as well. I already had my hood over my head and my cloak buttoned up, with my hands buried inside the sleeves.

I'd had to relieve myself a short while ago. I'd held out as long as I could, counting on help coming soon. In the end, though, I'd whispered an apology to the residents of the city below and squatted. My only hope was that it was still raining below, and the rain would dilute things. I'd never go out without an umbrella again.

I was worried. I tried not to be, to keep my spirits up, but I was frustrated by my inability to resolve my situation, and by the fact that I had no idea what was going on down on the ground. As long as I stayed awake, I could keep an eye on the shifting clouds, make sure no hole came too close to me. But it was looking more and more as if I would have to sleep up here. How could I keep myself safe while I was unconscious? My stomach clenched uncomfortably with nerves and hunger, and I conjured up another small fountain of water to drink from.

I'd had plenty of time to think this afternoon. About the Professor. About life. I was twenty-two years old and felt like I was doing little more than drifting along.

I had a job that meant something to me in the D.R.C.M.C., even if the hours were long, it didn't pay much, and the work was thankless. And my superiors took an open stance against everything I believed in, and saw to it that every attempt I made at upholding basic rights for all magical beings in the Department's purvey was doomed to failure before I'd even finished drafting a proposal.

I had my own flat -- well, I shared it with Crookshanks -- and had had a grand total of two boyfriends since Hogwarts, not counting Ron, whom I only officially went out with for about three months after the Battle. We both realised soon enough we'd drive each other batty if we actually had to live together. The other two chaps had been quite acceptable, but Walter was too much of an outdoor type, always wanting to go camping on the weekends. I'd had quite enough of camping to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. And Josh was more of a rebound from Walter; I only talked myself into thinking I was head over heels for him, and when the first rush wore off, there wasn't anything left.

Then there was Professor Snape. He was a constant presence in my life over the last four years, the only one, really, other than Harry and Ron. He'd been a project at first, something for me to focus on, to keep me from dwelling on the deprivations and horrors of that year, and of that one terrible night. I was only peripherally involved, for the most part -- not having any professional skills to offer -- but I helped where I could, and followed his progress with interest, and, soon, admiration. And the fact that every time he looked at me, my knees went weak and my mouth went dry made it difficult for me to make room in my life for a relationship with anyone else. I knew I was hopeless, but you can't control who you fall for, more's the pity.

Thinking about the whole wretched scene with Susan, I had to admit there was a grain of truth in one of her accusations: I didn't want anyone else to have the Professor, and there was a part of me that gloated that I was one of the few he admitted to his home, and the only one I knew of who was young, female, and single. Except for Susan, now.

If it did turn out that the rest of what she'd said was true as well -- the part about her and Professor Snape -- well, then... I'd be happy for him. For them. It would actually be a good wake-up call for me, to make me stop mooning over someone I could never have anyway. I tried to ignore the knife which seemed to have lodged itself in my heart.

My muscles were stiff and sore from sitting in the same place in the cold for so long. I didn't want to wander too far from my original position, to make it easier for someone to find me, although I knew the clouds themselves were shifting, and might have carried me many miles away by now. I stood up to stretch, still taking care not to lose Professor Snape's potions. It would be completely dark soon; I would no longer be able to make out an approaching cloud hole. I lit my wand, trying not to worry about the pitifully small circle of illumination it afforded me. I made a sweep of my immediate area, and as I did so, I thought I heard something. It had been eerily quiet all afternoon: no traffic, no leaves rustling, not even any birds. There seemed to be an airline flight path some distance away (another thing to worry about!), as I'd regularly seen aeroplanes breaking through the clouds, but none had come near me, so I felt fairly certain that as long as I didn't drift close to them, I wouldn't be surprised by a 747 popping up beneath me. Other than that the only sound had been the constant, unrelenting wind rushing in my ears.

Now, however, there was something else there. I lifted my wand, trying to determine where the sound had come from, but the wind made it impossible. All of a sudden, it was there, right behind me: "Hermione!" It was Ron's voice!

I whirled around, my hair whipping across my face, and found Ron hovering there, on his broom, a huge grin on his face. There were few moments in my life when I'd been more glad to see him. I barrelled into him and slung my free arm around him, pressing him fiercely to me.

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione, you're going to pull me off," he protested good-naturedly. "I don't think I can stand here."

I had to admit, he was probably right. While he was floating there, one of his feet was already dipping into the clouds, a move that would have been impossible for me.

I was on the verge of asking about Harry (after all, I had sent the message to him, not to Ron), when Ron said, "Hang on, I'll let Harry know I've found you." He produced Charger and sent him off with a brief message. "It's a good thing you started signalling with your wand," he said. "It's getting dark. Well, up you go." He shifted forward on his broom to make room for me.

"I was beginning to think I'd have to spend all night up here," I said, laughing with relief, as I swung one leg over the broom. "Did you have a hard time finding me? Where are we, any--" My chatter stuck in my throat as I realised I couldn't lift my other leg. It was as if my foot were cemented to the cloud.

"Somewhere north of Manchester, nearly over Bolton, I'd reckon," he answered, oblivious to my little problem. "You must have drifted pretty far if you started out over --"

"Ron," I whispered, interrupting him. "Ron, I can't get my foot up. I'm stuck." I felt the tears prickling up again. I was so close to being rescued, so close!

"What?" Ron looked down at my traitorous appendage, firmly planted on the cloud. He twisted around to reach down and tug at it, nearly tumbling both of us off the broom, but there was nothing for it. I knew in an instant that every effort would be fruitless.

"Ron, Ron, stop," I said, getting back off the broom. "It's no good. It's part of the enchantment." I stood there, downcast.

"What enchantment? How did you get up here, anyway?"

I shook my head and sniffled. "It was Susan. Susan Bones. And Professor Snape--"

"Snape?" Ron's voice took on a menacing tone. "I knew you should stay away from him. I don't care what everyone says about him being rehabilitated."

"No, Ron," I said, trying to calm him. "He didn't do this. He doesn't know about it. It was because of him-- Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter."

Over Ron's shoulder, I could see another dark figure approaching rapidly. It must be Harry, I thought, and mere seconds later, my best friend emerged from the twilight on his broom. He braked abruptly, turning in a tight semi-circle to avoid running into Ron.

"Nice going," he congratulated Ron, pounding him on the shoulder. "Come on, Hermione, let's get out of here. I can hardly see where I'm flying."

"I can't," I said miserably. "I'm stuck."

"What do you mean, you're stuck?"

"I can only lift one foot at a time. It seems some part of me has to always be in contact with the cloud." I attempted to demonstrate by lifting one foot and then failing to be able to hop.

"Let's see about that." Before I could protest, he had zipped over to my side, wrapped one arm around me, and tried to pull me up onto his broom. Impressed as I was by this feat of machismo, one foot remained steadfastly attached to the cloud's surface. He released me and scratched his head.

"What if you take off your--" he started, but I held up a hand to stop him.

"It won't work, Harry. I'm the one who's enchanted, not my clothes." It had been a clever thought, admittedly, but I didn't want to risk losing my boot for something that was obviously not going to help me. My admiration for Susan's spellwork was increasing in direct proportion to my despair at ever getting out of here.

"Well, bloody Merlin in a frying pan," Ron swore, hovering.

"Why don't you tell us what happened, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Maybe we can find a way around this." His Auror training was starting to bear fruit: ask questions first, analyze, then seek solutions. I was quite proud of him. However, I'd already been through everything backwards and forwards for the past few hours, and if I hadn't figured out a solution, I hardly saw how Harry would.

"It was Snape--" Ron began, a definite snarl in his tone.

"It was not Professor Snape," I corrected him through bared teeth. "It was Susan Bones."

"Susan Bones? Wasn't she at school with us?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and now she's a Healer." I sighed. I could see I would have to tell them the entire, sordid tale. "She's Professor Snape's new P.T. That's physical therapist," I clarified. "She came to see him this afternoon, right when I was leaving. We had words, and... somehow, she got the impression I was a threat to her, and she must have sent me up here to get me out of the way."

"A threat?" Harry frowned. "In what way? You didn't hex her, did you?"

"No, of course I didn't hex her! Harry, you know I wouldn't do something like that!"

"Thebirds," Ron coughed into his hand.

I gave him a sour look and continued speaking to Harry. "She seems to have got it into her head that she and Professor Snape are... Well, that they're together."

Ron groaned. Loudly. "What is it about him? First you, now her? Tell me honestly, Harry, has he got something? Some secret power over women?" They both knew about my sad little obsession; Ron still harboured a secret conviction that Professor Snape had dosed me with a love potion.

Harry laughed. "I don't think so, Ron."

"He's a very powerful wizard, in the prime of his life," I explained loyally.

"He's old," Ron muttered.

"He's mature," I emphasised.

"He's got a gimpy leg--"

"That's a cheap shot, Ronald Weasley!"

"Now, now, children," Harry interceded, holding up one hand. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Hermione, go on, tell us what happened with Susan."

"She was very odd," I said, recalling the wild look in her eyes. "I suppose it could be true, but... somehow, I don't think so. I rather think she's lost touch with reality."

"She'd have to, to fall for that berk," Ron couldn't help commenting.

"Ron," I said reprovingly. "Anyway, she told me I shouldn't come round anymore, as she would take care of Professor Snape's deliveries from now on. Only, I'd just been in to pick up a batch, and he didn't say anything about it. I gave him his money, like usual, and he told me to take the next batch. Here it is." I produced the box from where it had been tucked up under my cloak. Harry reached out for it. I relinquished it with both relief and a touch of uneasiness. It wasn't that I didn't trust Harry with it; it had been something of a comfort to me, holding something of the Professor's close to my heart.

Harry balanced himself and took his other hand off his broom so he could open the box. All the little vials were still in place.

"What are they?" he asked, holding the box close to his face in order to see the contents better in the dim light from my wand.

"Boil Cure Potion. I don't think that has anything to do with it."

Harry snapped the lid shut. "You never know. Go on."

"Well, then she said I was in the way, coming between her and the Professor, and I should stay away. I told her I'd need to hear that directly from him, and tried to go back to the house, but she wouldn't let me. She was quite agitated, saying I was trying to cheat the Professor, and put a spell on him, and ... other things," I concluded vaguely, not wanting to mention the part about me being a jealous hag and trying to keep Harry and Ron for myself. Which wasn't even true! "And then she took out her wand -- she was so fast, I didn't see what she was doing -- and she cast it."

"What was it? Did you hear it?"

"I'm not sure... It sounded something like 'Silly Nimbus'... something with 'nimbus' at any rate. Which explains the clouds."

"Right," Harry said, all business. "I'm sure you've tried all the usual things... Finite, Apparating..."

"I did try to Apparate -- it didn't work, obviously -- but I didn't actually try a Finite," I admitted. "I was afraid it would end the spell directly, and I'd fall."

"Let's try it, then," Harry said. "Can't hurt. Here, you get up on Ron's broom." He took out his wand.

Now that I had both hands free, it was easier to get up behind him, leaving that one stubborn foot still stuck to the ground. I didn't hold out any great hopes of this working. It was notoriously difficult to end someone else's spell, nearly impossible if you didn't know what spell it was in the first place. On the other hand, Harry was a trained Auror. A tiny flicker of hope rose in my chest as he pointed his wand at me.

"Finite Incantatem!" he intoned. The flicker died away. My foot was as stuck as ever.

"It didn't work," I sighed, getting off Ron's broom again.

"I say we round up Susan," Ron said briskly. "Bring her up here and break this."

"Susan Bones will definitely be my next stop," Harry vowed. "But we've also got to take care of you," he said to me. "In case I can't find Susan right away, you'll need food, water, some way to keep warm."

"I can handle the water," I said, demonstrating with an Aguamenti Charm. "Some food would be nice," I admitted, "but what I'm most worried about is falling through a gap in the clouds, or the spell ending abruptly."

Harry and Ron both thought about it for a moment. Then, in one of those impulsive shows of loyalty that made him so dear to me, Ron said, "Here, you take my broom." He flew over so he was right next to Harry and transferred himself over onto the back of Harry's broom. "Harry and I will go back down."

"--and I'll track down Susan," Harry picked up Ron's plan.

"In the meantime, I'll go get you some things. I'll be back before you know it." Now settled behind Harry, Ron held his broom out to me. I took it, feeling immensely safer. Now if I did start to fall, all I'd have to do was get up onto the broom. I silently thanked Madam Hooch and all the broom gods for having forced me to learn to steer and control a flying broomstick. Also for the fact that it was dark now, so no one would see me flailing about on it.

Harry handed Professor Snape's box to Ron, so he could steer.

"How will you find me again?" I asked, as the boys were about to go.

"Ah, good point," Harry said. He sat up straighter in order to dig around for something in his pocket. He came up with a small disc, which he held out to me.

I recognised it as a Tricky Tracker, a Weasleys' product.

"Do you just happen to carry these around with you?" I asked Harry, amused.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said with a grin. "You never know when you'll want to tail someone."

I pocketed the small tracking device. Now I could be found within a five-kilometre radius. It should be good enough for Ron to find his way back.

"You going to be okay?" Harry asked.

"I'll be fine," I assured him, with more confidence than I actually felt. I tried to be positive, though. Harry would probably find Susan and get her to end the enchantment before Ron was halfway to the Burrow. I wouldn't have to spend the night here. Surely not.

"Well then, hold tight; we'll see you in a bit." Ron waved as Harry steered his broom away and down, and they were swallowed up by the clouds.

I looked around. The cloud surface looked solid as far as I could see, which reassured me slightly. I turned off my wand light. It was completely dark now, as the moon hadn't come up yet. The sky above was brilliant with stars. I found the Big Dipper right away, and Orion; Andromeda and the Chariot. I sat down again and pulled my cloak up around my legs. And waited.