The Misery Index

The Misery Index

Chapter 1: A House, A Photograph, And A Stolen Book

It was a dark Thursday night. The rain pitter-pattered against the windows and roofs of Godric's Hollow. The houses creaked in protest as gusts of wind were swept their way. Thunder cracked through the rain like a whip and a lightning bolt ignited the sky.

Unconsciously, Harry Potter rubbed at the scar on his forehead. He ran a hand through his dark tangles of hair, messing it up even more. Sighing, he continued staring out the window at the vacant village. He tried to image the streets outside bustling with people and their children, stopping to stare at all the fantastic items just inside the shop window but he couldn't. Everything was an empty shell.

Leaning into the cool window, Harry pressed his forehead against the glass. His scar was starting to twinge and he didn't want to think about what it could mean. He had never been a religious person, but he silently prayed Ron and Hermione were alright.

The trio had arrived at Godric's Hollow a year ago that day (had it been that long already?) to hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes. They decided not long after they arrived that when they located one, two would go to retrieve and destroy it. It was too risky for them all to go, what if all of them perished? No one else would ever think to search in their absence. One had to stay behind to preserve hope for the rest of the Wizarding World.

Ever since, Harry and either Ron or Hermione by his side, they had been successfully destroying all but one of the Horcruxes. Dumbledore's theories had been correct. But tonight was the hunt for last, and probably most difficult, Horcrux: Nagini the snake.

This being one of the most dangerous retrievings in their short "career," Hermione and Ron had begged Harry not to come with them. He was vital after all, the "Chosen One." At first, he flat out refused. No way was he going to let his friends walk head on into danger. He didn't even want that for himself, let alone his friends to be dragged along with, but what choice did he have against them?

So, after a long hour of raised voices, folded arms, angry tears, and words that will soon be regretted, Harry gave in from the sheer fact that he was emotionally drained and could argue no longer. Ron and Hermione left in pure silence, their hearts hardened just a bit more from the darkness looming just in front of their unsuspecting noses.

And now here Harry Potter sat, feeling utterly and completely useless, watching rain droplets make a wet path down the window that separated him from the outside world and trying to ignore the slightly more painful twinge in his scar.

Suddenly, the ticking clock seemed obnoxiously loud to his ears. Glancing lazily over the clock he registered that they had been gone about three hours and he hadn't moved one bit. He supposed he should at least make himself comfortable. Searches like this sometimes lasted days.

So for the hours and hours leading up to their return, Harry ate little, read quite a bit, wrote a few sentences in a personal journal he'd been keeping unknown to his friends, and reluctantly dosed off for short periods of time. He rarely slept anymore. Either insomnia plagued him or the nightmares did.

He must have dosed off again for when he woke the fire in the grate was only smoldering ashes. He tried to revive them with the fire poker, but it was no use. Untangling himself from the chair, he wandered aimlessly over to the mantle above the fireplace to stare at the picture in front of him. Slowly he reached out and gently removed it from the shelf. He gently rubbed his thumb over it and tried to remember what such innocence felt like.

The Harry, Ron, and Hermione that resided within the picture frame were in the middle of an epic snowball fight. They were all ducking and hiding, running and throwing. How oblivious this picture perfect trio was to their fate; to the train wreck waiting just around the corner. It was hard to believe that these tumbling, rosy-cheeked children ever existed. His eyes raked their way over the photo once more before he began to put it back on the mantelpiece.

But suddenly it began to change before his eyes. All at once the tone was slightly darker and there was an eerie soft glow that surrounded it. Somehow the snow wasn't snow anymore, it was flecks fire that fell from the clouds like rain. Harry felt them like pinpricks on his skin, scorching his clothes and charring his skin. The frame was warm beneath his fingers as the figures within the photograph fell to their knees in anguish. He watched them yell out in despair but couldn't hear a sound. Their screams itched just beneath his skin as the picture warped and an invisible flame burned away at the edges.

From far away he heard voices calling his name, but the darkness had already started creeping in from the corners of his vision as the floor came up to meet him...

----

The first thing Harry noticed was the ringing in his ears.

The second thing he noticed was a cold hand gripping his as if he were the very anchor of their existence.

And the third thing he noticed (after the ringing in his ears subsided) was a familiar voice whispering, "Please Harry. Please wake up..."

His heart swelled at the sound of her voice and the pleading within it. Slowly he lifted his heavy eyelids and saw Hermione whispering incoherently with her eyes screwed shut and gripping his hand tightly. Her hair was hanging limply from her head and her whole body was soaked to the bone. She shivered every once in a while but never opened her eyes.

Gently he squeezed her hand. Her head snapped up and her eyes found his. A sigh formed in her mouth but before he even heard it escape, Hermione wrapped her arms around him tightly and completely knocked the breath out of him.

"Umm, Hermione?" Harry rasped.

"Yes?" she muttered into his shoulder.

"I can't really breathe here."

"Oh, right. Sorry..."

Slowly she loosened her grip on him until she was sitting back on her chair at his side. He could see the worry clouding her eyes.

"I'm just so glad you're alright. That's all," her hands were still gripped tightly together.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"What happened? After I...blacked out?" He had a feeling that something out of the ordinary had happened to cause her to worry so much.

At first she just stared at her lap, searching for words. Then she looked up at him and their eyes locked.

"When Ron and I got back from searching you were staring at that photo and gasping. Like you couldn't breathe. Then you fainted and I reached out to try to help you and you started...convulsing. Your eyes rolled up into the back of your head and you were just thrashing. I told Ron to go get a spoon or something so you wouldn't bite your tongue clear off and after a while you started settling down. But your pulse was so faint Harry. It was almost like it wasn't there and you were clammy all over. I was just so scared."

She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands again. He watched her twist her hands in her lap.

"But I'm okay now."

Hermione raised her head and a slight smile graced her lips. "Yes. You're alright now."

He half-smiled back before she got up from her chair and made her way to a suitcase sitting on the dresser within the room. She was searching for something.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood beside her as she rummaged through the contents.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"Well," she began as she tossed a few things out of her way, "we're not entirely sure how to destroy Nagini so I figured I might as well start looking for a spell or something shouldn't I?"

It was then he realized the suitcase was entirely filled with books and obviously had been magically expanded from the inside to hold such volumes. Something caught his eye and he stilled her hand. He plucked from the suitcase and enormously battered copy of Hogwarts, A History.

A blush crept its way up Hermione's face. "Well...I thought we might...need it sometime..." she muttered lamely.

And then Harry did something he hadn't done in a long time. He laughed. He genuinely and truly laughed. And no matter how embarrassed Hermione was, she couldn't help but smile.

For at that moment, she thought she might be in love with him.