Curse of the Dark

I have to keep running. Got to keep going. Got to go faster. I was never this fast when I was... when I was...I can't remember. It doesn't matter; this is all that does.

But I think there was something that did matter, though I can't remember what it was.

But I have to keep going. Got to run faster and I'm not even close. Not even time to run under the moon and go for flesh. To taste the sweet meat of human flesh and how the blood would dribble with the taste of victory. But there isn't any time now. Got to keep running. He's calling me now. He calls me, but not by name. He won't speak it. He doesn't want me to remember. But I will. My name is... It doesn't matter. Just who I am is important. Or what I am. Lean and sleek and faster than before. Before. What was before? There were people. But the thought makes me hunger for the taste of flesh and thirst for blood.

And I keep running.

Hermione stood numbly watching the Forbidden Forest for a long while after Harry had left her sight. She didn't even feel Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder trying to steer her back towards the castle. Just a million thoughts screaming to be heard first:

Harry's left and gone and he's a werewolf.

And I've got no one to talk to.

And where's Ron?

And what is going on and what did he have to tell me and why can't I think straight and...?

"Miss Granger. We must be going inside now. It's a bit chilly and we have a bit of work to do. Come along," and Dumbledore took her firmly, though gently by the arm and pulled her towards the castle. She let herself be steered away, though she never took her eyes off of the forest where Harry had disappeared to.

Thinking back on these days during the rest of her life, Hermione could never remember much. Some vague images of colors and many people coming to talk to her and her own voice answering in monotone, though it was not hers. The one thing she did remember was Ron. She saw every detail and took it all in and it haunted her for many years afterwards. She was sitting in Dumbledore's office after yet another barrage of questions when there was a knock on the door and Ron came in.

"You wanted to see me, Professor? Oh, Hermione. Didn't know you were...," he trailed off as he saw her expression. "I...um...get the feeling I'm missing something." Hermione just sat quietly and stared off at nothing, not even really listening while Dumbledore told the story. When she realized that he was done, she chanced a look at Ron. He looked more panic-stricken and terrified than she had ever seen anyone before. He looked like he wanted to cry, but he was much too far beyond that to be able to. His eyes were wide and strained and his face was contorted in utmost pity and despair.

"B-but what can we do? There is a cure right? Lupin said there was."

"There are a few cures, Mr. Weasley, but most require the full moon to work. And there is a certain time limit that we have. There is one I know of though. It may work, if we can find Harry. It's an Elixir called Revenge of the Wolf and it requires the strength of many wizards to make. Even more so because Harry is such a strong wizard. And then of course enough power to overthrow Voldemort's own."

"WE HAVE TO KILL VOLDEMORT TO GET HARRY BACK?!"

"Erm...well no not exactly. Just overpower him. He and Harry are connected by blood and by his scar and by several other passages, though none are nearly as important as the first two. Except, of course, for the curse."

Hermione looked up for the first time since she had seen Ron and stared vacantly at Dumbledore. "What curse?"

"Curse of the Dark. 'Twas the last magic that Voldemort was able to do before he killed Harry's parents. He sent the curse from a few miles away. It prevents Harry or anyone else from telling his true love of his love, or from his kissing or any other sort of romanticism of her or...," he coughed ever so slightly, "...him until that person tells him first. It is supposed to prevent him from associating with this person at all, but after Harry's parent's death, almost every wizard within England sent a charm on to him. He was and still is their savior and everyone wanted to help protect him. It slightly overpowers Voldemort. There are other affects of course; it is supposed to prevent the person from having any contact with anyone who might be kind to him. To some degree it worked for the first few years of his life, though it seems to be dying back now. It puts a person in to a state of unhappiness and hatred and frustration towards the world that is incomparable to anything else. It is quite illegal. The few times it was used by Death Eaters in the past, the cursed ended up in St. Mungo's where nobody can be kind to them, even if they try. Eventually the person becomes trapped inside their own mind and goes crazy; death is usually a welcome relief. Which reminds me...I can trust you two to keep this a complete secret, can't I? If word got out there would be panic all around. People would immediately suspect Voldemort and would cause mass chaos which would help no one."

Both teenagers nodded silently, both very pale when Ron spoke up. "Wizards have been trying to overpower You-Know-Who for years. How can we just all of a sudden decide to overpower him? We can't just walk up and tap him on the shoulder politely and ask him to move out of the way."

"I have just received an Order of the Phoenix notice. It turns out that through the several bonds they share that they can tap off of one another's powers, though not easily. If Harry can tap in to Voldemort's, along with the help of several other powerful witches and wizards, Harry might have a chance of defeating him. But he needs your help."

Now Ron looked like he might throw up and Hermione certainly felt like it. "We'll do anything Professor, won't we Ron?"

"Right. Of course we will. But still..."

"Thank you Professor," Hermione cut in. "We have to go and...um...catch up on our sleep if you don't mind." She half-dragged Ron out of the office.

"Hermione..."

"I know."

"But we can't just go to the library for this one."

"I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it."

Hermione didn't say anything for a long moment. Then her eyes lit up. "Lupin, Ron. We can use Lupin! If we can use him to communicate since they're both werewolves, we could make Harry remember who he is."

"But how are we to do that?"

Hermione bit her lip in nervous frustration. "I don't know." And with that she burst in to tears. "Ron, it's all my fault. I could have said something or done something and he'd be right here and I can't save him and it's all my fault." She buried herself in his shoulder and he looked around nervously, unsure of what to do.

"Um...Hermione? It's all right. We'll get him back. I know we will but crying doesn't help anyone."

"But Ron," she sobbed. "What if we don't?"

"We will." And she looked so sad with her tearstained cheeks and puffy eyes that he hugged her closely to his chest and a slow tear began to trickle down his cheek as well.

I can almost remember. It's like a line dangling just beyond my reach. But I can't do it. Not while I'm running. And I have to keep running. He wants me to. And we're so closely connected. I have to do what he says. And yet...there might be something else. But I can't remember. What was it? That someone. I think I can feel them. They're very sad.

But I have to keep running. He wants me to more than ever now. He doesn't want me to remember. But why? And who am I?

But I've got to keep running.

And yet, I almost remember.

Ron and Hermione were sitting in front of the common room fire, not speaking to anyone or each other, both absorbed in their own thoughts when Professor McGonagall came over to them. Neither of them noticed her for a long moment until she cleared her throat, making them both jump.

"Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you," she said in an unusually scratchy voice. "Follow me." She turned ant stalked out through the portrait of the fat lady. The two looked at each other in wonder before following her, having nothing else to do, and feeling helpless the entire way. She led them down one corridor, then another, and another, and through a tapestry, and up a huge tower where neither of them had ever been before. They climbed for what seemed like hours without end until they were beyond exhaustion and moving mechanically as if controlled by another force. In the midst of this, Hermione began to wonder. She had never read anything about this tower that kept going up, and there certainly weren't any towers this high at Hogwarts.

Finally they made it to the top of the tower. Hermione looked out of one of the open windows to the ground far below and could just make out the lake miles below. Besides the window, there was nothing else remarkable about the tower. The top, where they currently were, was small and cramped, made entirely of stone with just the one open window. However, this fact didn't seem to deter Professor McGonagall. She took out her wand and began muttering very quickly and unintelligibly, tapping every stone in the room. As soon as she did so, the space began to glow gold with odd, streaky patterns of scarlet. Then the walls started to slide away towards the window, finally leaving nothing but the window to suggest that they were still at Hogwarts. Around them, where there should have been miles of straight drop, there was a huge room, much larger than the Great Hall. The walls were of a scarlet painted stone. At one end was a huge, round table with six or seven hundred wizards sitting around it. Behind them was darkness as the light did not reach that far. The window still hung in midair, though it had nothing to suggest it was made of stone; it was merely a portal that showed the ground far below.

But the thing that captured their attention more than anything else was a giant phoenix, much larger than a hippogriff. It was radiating a source of light, completely overshadowing the few torches that lined the walls by the table. It looked amazingly real, yet it didn't so much as quiver, and neither were sure if it was real.

As they entered, a figure detached itself at the very head of the table, right by the phoenix. Dumbledore. "Welcome," he said, his voice echoing off the chamber walls, "to the Chamber of the Order of the Phoenix."

Running...running...running...got to keep running. Faster...faster...FASTER...got to go faster. He's getting impatient. He needs me there now. I have to go faster.

But who am I?

It's not important.

It is.

It's not.

It is.

Not.

Is.

Not.

Is.

Not.

IS. I HAVE TO KNOW. Who am I? I want to know. I've got to know. I won't keep going until I know.

You will keep running. I will keep running.

Who am I? I want to know. Tell me. I won't move until then.

You will.

I won't.

Will.

Won't. I'VE GOT TO KNOW.

In the middle of a deep forest, a dark shape hurtled past the trees with incredible speed. It seemed reluctant to go on, yet quite willing at the same time. Then, without warning, it tried to stop, though keep running at the same time. The result was that it went tumbling, rolling over and over again, finally coming to rest at the bottom of a large tree. It lay, unmoving for a moment before getting up and taking off again, at full speed in its original direction.

For a moment, neither Hermione nor Ron could do anything except stare. With a start, Hermione realized where she was, or thought she was, and managed to get out in a tiny squeak, "excuse me?"

"The Chamber of the Order of the Phoenix. You have been called here for a purpose. We need your help. You two are the closest to Mr. Potter and, therefore, our closest link to him. You both are already relatively a part of him. Using that, we may be able to contact him; bring him back. Though it won't be easy by any means. Voldemort has a firm hold upon his mind. We need to bring him down entirely to completely destroy his bond with Harry, though I think just getting him back would be fine, for the moment. The fact that Voldemort is able to do this at all means he is getting much more bold and powerful. We need to deliver the fatal blow as soon as possible, though we need Harry on our side to do that. It will be dangerous, though you two are our only hope. Are you willing?"

Hermione stepped forward immediately, as they had known she would. "I am."

Ron paused for a moment, before he too stepped into the light. "As am I."

"Very well then. Come kneel in front of the phoenix. We have laid out the spell already. Listen for the Phoenix." The two did as they were told and a slow silence began to sink around them. They were vaguely aware of the group of people behind them, all waving their wands and saying something and an incredibly scarlet column of magic flying at them, engulfing them both. A deep voice began to speak in their minds, unlike anything they had ever heard before. Call out to him. He needs you. Make him remember who he is. And who you are. It was the voice of the phoenix.

Got to keep running. Got to do as he says. Faster. Run. Faster. Run. Faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster.

But...who am I?

Run faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster. Run faster.

Then something else besides the pulsing voice in his head spoke. Something deep and soothing. Are you ready? The deep voice receded, though he was still aware that it was there, in the corner of his mind, a silent watcher. And then two others, distant, yet so familiar. He wasn't quite sure what, or who, they were, though. And then one spoke, tentatively, as if testing a trap to see if it was still set.

Harry?

Wicked.