Chapter 2 : Digging Up Mental Graves
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 2|
Background: Font color:
DEDICATION: To Cassandra, Ashley, Brittany, JJ, Rachel, Sarah C., Heather, Stephanie, April, Jaclyn, Raevyn, Tina, Maria, “Gum”, and “Lead.”, Nicole I miss all of you! Good luck and may you achieve all of your goals!
I’m looking for a place-I’m searching for a face-Is anybody here I know-Cuase nothings going right-And everything is a mess-and no one likes to be alone-
~I’m With You:: Let Go:: Avril Lavigne
“Master. We have the information requested.”
Voldemort turned around to the bowing follower. “You know who has my information?”
“Yes Master. Took us eight years, but we found her.”
“Who is it?”
The follower told him. “So, it is she that holds the information.” An evil smiled appeared upon his face. “Harry Potter, let the games begin.”
“And where did Harry hide? He hid in an old trailer that was left to rot in the Clearing Woods! But even the girls found him there!” Ron laughed, taking another swing of his butterbeer. “Harry tried to climb out of the window, but the girls had surrounded the trailer and had pulled him down when he tried to escape. So, he was forced to answer every question before he was let go! It was some potion, Abs,” Ron said, still laughing, looking over at his red-faced wife.
“Really, it’s bad enough with Harry being chased because he’s the boy-who-lived, but with the potion... darn, I would’ve loved to have been there!” Fred laughed, smacking Harry on the back.
Harry had his elbows on the table and his face was in the palms of his hands trying to cover his burgundy face. It was Christmas Eve and Harry was sitting a the table in The Prancing Erumpent, waiting for their meals to come out. It was Christmas Eve and Harry would have loved to be doing other things instead of sitting with his family. True, Christmas was the time to spend with friends and family- but not if you were Harry Potter. It was Christmas Eve... and the anniversary of Voldemort’s first real attack of his upcoming, or as they called it. That’s where Harry would rather be, out fighting Voldemort. But he had his orders.
That’s right, orders. It had been seven years since he had got out of Hogwarts. Compared with the present, seven years ago Harry was innocent about the evil that surrounded the world. When he had got out of Hogwarts, he couldn’t have been more happy- that last year was horrible, as one was missing. However, that cheerful mood was squashed when every morning there were at least twenty owls, offering him jobs. He considered almost everyone, except for modeling: have all of the fans and wear the latest wizardry fashions and miss the old days on the train to Hogwarts? Become a train conductor! Ron had made fun of the last one, imagining Harry wearing blue overalls with a striped hat.
However, in the end, it was down to the last choice. How could he become a star quidditch player when there was still terror waiting to kill him and all of the Muggles and Muggle-borns? He decided on becoming an auror or unspeakable. Those times were rough. He had nowhere to live and the memory was still afresh in his mind. Added to the pile was that he didn’t know where to go to apply for the job. Luckily, he had to wait a short amount of time until an unspeakable showed up to offer him a job.
Harry looked around at the table. Ron seemed to have started the whole Weasley clan on another topic. All had smiling faces, yet Harry could tell that they were trying to forget the evils that lurked outside. As it was Christmas Eve. Harry took a glance at everyone’s faces, starting with Ron.
Ron was an employee for the Ministry’s Department of Magical Games and Sports. Years ago, Ron had been hoping for a job as a keeper for the Cannons, but the Cannons had been satisfied enough with the keeper that they had. So when the job offer came up to be part of the Ministry’s Department of Magical Games and Sports, he had cheerfully took it. See what I told Hermione, I didn’t have to get good grades in order to a job that I wanted! Ron said after he sent the acceptance owl back.
In fact, Ron had all of it, a job, a family of his own, a wife, and occasionally, fame. Two years after Ron had been an employee for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he met Abigail Hart on the Knight Bus. In fact, he was drunk when they met. Unlike other girls, Abby saw past the gross and disgusting part of him (he was drunk, remember?) and only saw his charming side, which Harry added, was very fortunate, because Abby probably would have thrown a shoe at him.
It was three years after Ron met her that he was told the news: he was going to be made a father. When Abby was getting elope, she was pregnant. When she was eight months into it, they found a house. However, the house had the history of being a hotel in the 1800’s for the rich business men. It had three floors, each hosted one mammoth suite. So they had asked Harry and Ginny to pick one floor and pay one-third of the rent.
Harry smiled at the sudden memories. He moved onto Sirius. Yes, Sirius had been freed of all charges when Fudge had been assassinated and Tori Benning, an old school friend, had been elected. He was employed as an Auror. Yet, he didn’t actually go out and arrest people. He had chosen to sit behind a desk (given his age) and go over reports, scanning them for clues.
Ginny and Draco. More had been surprised to see those two to get together. While Ginny was on the second floor of the Janus, or how they took up calling the house, Harry was on the third floor, and Ron and Abby were on the first floor, as she was pregnant at the time. Ginny shared her floor with Draco, and was a star reporter for the Daily Prophet. Draco, however, was a spokesperson for the aurors.
Harry skipped by Bill’s, Charlie’s, and Percy’s families. He didn’t have much memories from them. Molly sat talking with Fred and George. Fred and George had their own joke shop, which Harry was pleased to remember that “Wizard Weasley Wheezes” blew away Zonkos the first year that it was up.
“Uncley Harry! Uncley Harry! I need ta ask a question!”
Harry snapped out of his mind and looked down next to him. Allison, Ron and Abby’s child, was looking up at him.
“What is it?”
“Do you have to go?” asked Ally, her blue eyes shinning up at him.
Ron had stopped his conversation with Sirius and looked at Harry. “She means that we never see you anymore, and when we do, you are always called away for some reason.”
Harry felt guilty. What Ron had said was true. He just didn’t think that he noticed. When he wasn’t called to have a new assignment at the Unspeakable Headquarters, he tried to stay clear of Ron and his family. He had lost one person and that was hard enough. He didn’t need Voldemort taking more away and the gut wrenching he felt the first time.
“I.... uh... I have to stop Voldemort, you know that.”
Ron didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, I do know. But you’re always gone for a week. If I didn’t know better, you are following Hermione’s traits and looking into the library.”
What Harry did for a living was always classified. He didn’t tell anyone, not even Ron. He guessed it was because of the relationship dulling between them, or he didn’t want to harm anyone. What Harry did for a living was his to decide whether or not to tell. As for these week absences, he was sent undercover to spy and fight.
Harry didn’t reply to Ron’s last sentence. “But, Voldemort won’t make an appearance on Christmas Eve, right?”
Ally was watching this with narrowed eyes, absorbing every word. Yet, when Harry said those last few words, her eyes widened. Ally had a belief that jinxes and miracles came true, and if you didn’t stop the jinxes with three knocks on wood, “bad things would happen”. In Ally’s terms, what Harry had just said was a jinx. She raised her tiny hand and started knocking on the tabletop.
Yet, before she could finish the last knock, Ron scowled her. “Allison, stop it. We’re in a public place. There’s no need for you to behave that way.”
Ally stilled had her fist in midair. “But... Uncley Harry said somethin’ ‘bout Vold-a-mortie comin’--”
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that people nearby had flinched at the name. From Ron’s reaction, a mixture of embarrassment and anger, he had saw them to. The rest of the table had stopped their chatter to look upon the sight that was before them. “Allison Leigh Weasley! How many times have I told you! Do not say the name! Get it?” Ally nodded. “Good. Now sit there and shut your mouth.” Ron hissed.
Harry was uncomfortable. Of course he had saw Ron like this. Many times, but to see him yell at his daughter, that was different. Harry looked at Ally, her blue eyes that she got from her father, tearing up. This inspired him to say something. “Ron, don’t get mad at Ally. She probably picked it up from me.”
Ron glared at him. “Then maybe you shouldn’t say it around her.”
“She shouldn’t have any fear of--” Harry caught himself from saying the name. But then again, he wasn’t going to say “You-Know-Who” either.
“She should. She isn’t like you, Harry. You can go out there and fight You-Know-Who and come back with a only a scar and a tiny personality damage, but she can’t. She’ll die.”
“I know that. But she isn’t going to go out there and fight Voldemort now, is she?”
Ron looked Harry straight in the eye. “You are annoying, almost as annoying Hermione was about her schoolwork, but not quite. No, you aren’t annoying with the schoolwork, but my parenting skills...when you are about as far from knowledge of any parent-thing as you can be!” They were speaking in quiet voices, just like quiet hisses now to not disturb anyone.
“Well, someone has too. Hermione isn’t here to tell you how to do things right, so someone has to.”
“What, be annoying? Look how annoying she was and look where she is now!”
Harry’s glare increased. He couldn’t muster up enough willpower to punch Ron. No, his training at the Unspeakable Headquarters had taught him to have patience. Instead, with one last intimidating glare, Harry left the restaurant.
It was amazing on how much rain can creased the anger. Harry was walking outside , just letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go. About five minutes into his walking, rain started falling instead of snow. It was also amazing how the rain was falling at this time of year.
Harry walked along London’s sidewalks. That was the first time Harry and Ron had spoken about Hermione. The first time in eight years. Both had pain when she was diagnosed, and for Harry, the pain hadn’t decrease. Yet, beneath the pain was curiosity. Beneath his skin, he knew something wasn’t right. From the first time he laid his eyes over the parchment with Hermione’s small, but frantic script he felt that something wasn’t how it seemed.
But back then, Harry knew it wasn’t natural. True, it had been a week after he last saw her, then her letter came, but it wasn’t natural. She seemed perfectly sane when she left, but now she was in St. Mungo’s department for the fully mental. And her writing... There was something uncanny about it. He had the writing checked just in case it wasn’t forged, but it wasn’t.
During her first five years at St. Mungos, Harry and Ron came to see her. That was the first and last time that any of them had paid a visit. It was very uncomfortable seeing Hermione sitting on her bed, her back straight and hands holding the end of the bed tightly. Her eyes were focused on something on the wall that only she could see. The visit was very quick. Ron had told her the news, he was going to be a father, and she was to be the godmother of the child, and Harry the godfather. There was no response.
Harry remembered that night after their visit to Hermione that they had packed up all of her stuff that they had been keeping and buried it under her favorite tree at Hogwarts. Along with the box, they had buried their memories and will to talk about her.
That is, until tonight. This night, they had unconsciously dug up that hole...
Harry sighed and stopped walking. Amongst his journey around London, he had made his way to King Cross Station. He had no idea why his feet brought him to Kings Cross. There was nothing here for him to see. Harry suddenly grinned. This was exactly where he met the Weasleys. He knew what he had to do. He wasn’t going to ruin another of his friendships.
There were red and clear lights shining on the Janus as it came into Harry’s view. Harry’s heart stopped. Those colors belonged to the Auror force. Something had happened. Regaining his senses, Harry ran up to the house. There were people of the Auror division standing outside of it, making reports.
He dodged human forms and headed straight to where he saw his friends. Ron’s face showed horror all over it; and he was holding Abby very close to him. Abby had streams of water running down her face, yet Harry couldn’t tell, as Abby’s face was turned inward to her husband’s chest. Ginny and Draco were there. Ginny look about half way to tears herself, and Draco had a severe face. Yet, little Ally wasn’t there.
“What happened?” Harry asked when he reached the group.
Ron looked up and choked. “When we got home... Ally... sent to her room... it was quiet... Abby went up to check... she wasn’t there.”
Harry shook his head, looking back at the building. He couldn’t believe it, so he had to see for himself.
Ally’s room was in the far east hall, away from the living room, where Abby and Ron probably were when she was abducted. It could have been possible that Ally was gone. Harry ran through the house and the Aurors weren’t bothering to stop him. He had been in training with most of these Aurors and they knew that Harry was one of the good guys.
There were more Aurors in the bedroom, looking for more clues. From the looks of their faces, they knew what happened. Voldemort had assailed again.
One of the Aurors looked up. He too had foreboding surrounding his facial expressions. “Potter, there’s a message over there for you.”
Harry’s eyebrows creased and he went over to the wall where the Auror pointed at. On the wall was a piece of parchment being hold up by a pin that was a lightning bolt. Harry ripped off the parchment and the pin went to fall behind the dresser. He took no notice.
I took something of value from you.
One of your friends has something that I want.
Now usually, I could get it back, but wards that I can’t get by protect her.
If you want the little girl to live, get what I want. The girl knows. You know whom- she may be insane, but she has what I want.
There are three rules that you have to follow, or the girl dies.
1.)You have thirteen days. Each day will have a destruction, so the longer it takes, the more people are going to die.
2.)Don’t run to get more help. I have spies stationed around. If you do, people dear to you will die.
3.) Don’t plan to hurt me. If you do, you won’t win.
The time starts ticking now.
Harry looked up. He didn’t trust Voldemort about anything, but he believed that Voldemort wouldn’t kill Ally for the mere fact that if he did, he wouldn’t get the so precious information. Their war had changed into something that benefited them both. Harry suddenly didn’t want to look into the future.
Sighing, Harry looked around the room. This wasn’t going to be easy. If what Voldemort had said about Hermione was true, then Harry wasn’t so sure since Voldemort had lied to him before, it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. But it didn’t make sense.
He picked up a stuff animal from Ally’s bed. It was one he got her for Christmas and that Ally cherished dearly. It was a green and pink stuffed hippogriff. With that, he walked out of the room. Letter and stuff animal tightly clutched in his hand. No one stopped him until he was outside, confronted with his family.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Ron called out to him.
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to let you to fight You-Know-Who. I’ve already lost Ally and I’m not losing you either! No!” He said when Harry opened his mouth, “No, I’m not letting you go. I’m not in the mood... oh how Ally must hate me. The last time I saw her, I yelled at her!” A man whose offspring had been kidnapped changed the factor of manpower. Tears started rolling down his face.
Harry blinked. He was not going to get help. He was going to do it alone and that was final. “I’m going.” He said before he apparated out.
St. Mungos loomed in front of him, warning him to stay away. Yet, when there wasn’t anyway to get Ally from his worst nemesis except this one, he was willing to attempt to try this. Nevertheless, he knew whom Voldemort was talking about. He knew that she couldn’t have whatever Voldemort want, that was absurd. She was in the deepest parts of the hospital, way past where Neville Longbottom’s parents were situated.
There was a young witch at the front desk moving her head in a dance fashion. As Harry loomed forward, still clutching the stuff hippogriff and the letter, he could hear the soft humming of the music of Witches’ Beauty 2.5 radio station. The young witch looked up when she sensed Harry’s presence.
The receptionist tensed up. Harry watched as her eyes widened and her hand reached to turn down the volume of the radio. Her hands then traveled to her hair to make sure it was in place. Harry was sure that she knew who he was. Darn that witch magazine who featured his picture on their pages more than once. Though Harry always hated it, Ron had kept a collection of the magazines that had his face plastered to it.
“H-h-hello, Mr.- Mr. Potter. What do you want me t-t-to do?” Her face turned red as a tomato.
He was very annoyed on the inside, but on the outside he had his poker face on. “I would like to pay a visit to one of your patients.”
The receptionist made a swipe to put her blonde hair behind her ear. Her eyes traveled to his hands. Her eyes made a slight attempt to narrow in questioning as she looked up at him. “You have a-a-a child?” That question was dumb, she and Harry both knew it. It would surely made news if Harry had a child, and so far, Harry was quite the swinging bachelor. Both turned red. To cover up her mistake, she added, “Where do you want to go?”
“I need to go to the mental department.”
Her eyes blinked a couple of times and before she could open her mouth to embarrass herself more, there was a voice behind Harry.
“Grace, I’ll take it from here.” Harry recognized the voice. He turned around and smiled. It was Neville. Grace, the burning receptionist, sat down to recover her senses. Oh, if this gets out, her friends would have a field day. Not because she actually met the great Harry Potter, but because of her claim: When I get to meet him, I’ll be calm and confident, and he’ll like me. Sure, like that happened now. She watched Neville and Harry walk away towards the mental wards.
“So, what brings you here? We haven‘t seen you for a while now.” Neville asked.
Harry shrugged, trying to act casual, though his insides were churning. “Oh, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.” When Harry didn’t reply, Neville added, “Who are you seeing?”
Harry sighed. “Hermione.”
“Why? I mean, you’ve haven’t seen her since, well it has been awhile.” Harry looked over just in time to see Neville’s face before it changed back to its blankness. The expression had anxiousness written all over it, as if he was afraid of Harry finding out something. It was also strange, Harry thought, that Neville had grown up to not to be the little nervous boy. Now he was like any other guy.
“Can’t I just see one of my friends?”
Neville raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything in reply. Silence surrounded them as they walked through the hallways of the hospital. The walls had taken on a grayish-hue color and was closing in on them. There was another office with a older man sitting at the desk this time. Neville steered them down a left hallway; there was quite a walk until they reach the room. Rooms, laboratories, and offices were starting to pop up.
They stopped in front of room 434. Neville looked into the window and turned back to Harry. “The doctor is giving her a check up, so we can’t go in there yet.” Harry made a face; Neville mistaking it as a grimace for not being able to go and see her. However, Harry’s grimace wasn’t about being able to go and see her right away. Instead, it was of Hermione’s appearance.
Harry hadn’t seen her for six years. Yet, the memory was still there. Her form had hit both of them in the face. She was very skinny, almost beyond doubt and skinnier than Harry had ever been. When Harry and Ron had asked the doctor assigned to her then about her skinniness, the doctor had shrugged and said that she wasn’t eating. As for her hair, it had been busier than usual, given the fact that she didn’t brush it, or try to, everyday.
But now... it was all different. She was different. More weight appeared to be on her, proving that she was eating healthy, though she was insane. There was more color in her face, which Harry also saw that her facial features had changed a little too. Her hair had grown longer, and had been brushed that day. Most of the bushiness was gone from the weight of her hair, which was now rolling down her back, touching the cotton of her garb.
“There’s a room in which we can sit in and watch.”
Harry, keeping his glaze on the person, said, “How much longer will it take?”
“Uh, well, it seems as if Dr. Weller has just started.”
Harry nodded. They went into the room next door. Indeed, there was a mirrored one-sided glass in which Harry and Neville could watch the process. Yet, it wasn’t a grayish room like the ones Harry saw on primetime television.
The room was a bright color, yellow in fact. There was a couch made of fine leather off to one side of the room for other purposes. In front of the glass was desks, which Harry concluded were for the papers that the observers were to fill out.
So Harry and Neville sat down, watching and listening to Dr. Weller continuing on her checkup. Harry watched as Dr. Weller spun her wand around Hermione’s head, blue light coming out and traveling into Hermione’s body. He watch as Hermione give an outward shudder to the blue light...
It was eerily silent. Dr. Weller had finished the orally version of the check-up, and was now taking some notes on her clipboard. Hermione was sitting on the edge of her bed, eerily sitting straight up. Her hands were placed delicately at the ends, them too were strange, almost trying to reach out to Harry. Her eyes were staring at one point in the wall...
Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes moved. It was very slight, but as an Unspeakable Agent, Harry caught it. She was looking straight into his very own. Yet, that was absurd, as there was a fact that there was only one side that you could see into. Hermione’s eyes moved back into the spot that they were and her head rolled on her shoulder.
Harry turned away from the window, dropping the subject. Neville got a uncanny feeling on the back of his neck. Harry looked as if he was thinking something over completely, and that something was making his brow furrow. At length, Neville caught what was making Harry think.
“Neville, how long have you been working here?”
“Ah, about four years. I needed money for getting through college. I’m going to be a Herbology teacher when I get through college.”
“Are you her caretaker?”
“Hers and others, yes... though not during the day. Only at night.” Neville was tensing up. And that was how Harry knew that something was really go on.
“What was she diagnosed with again?”
Harry was asking him questions that he was sworn to not answer if it ever came to it. However, Harry was Hermione’s best friend, even if he wouldn’t come and visit her, he deserved to know what was going on with his best friend. These two heated debates were inside Neville, so he did the only thing to do in this situation; give the answers but not directly and in detail.
“What is that again?”
Neville blinked. Suddenly the debates stopped, leaving him with only one side of the argument. “The check-up is almost done, but by then Hermione would have to sleep. If you want, you can read her file.”
Harry was getting an headache. Sighing, and looking up from the large file in Neville’s office, he moved the lamp slightly towards the other way. It was midday by now, and he wasn’t even three-fourths through the file. He wanted to get up and stretch but his self-will wasn’t letting him. And only because of the way that Hermione looked at him through that glass, though she wasn’t supposed to know that he was there.
The light from his Raphometer was blinking. He had long since turned it off, refusing to look at the screen to see who was trying to get a hold of him. Yet, he had a fine idea of who it was. Ron, Sirius, and his boss at work. He knew that if he didn’t respond and turned up safely, he was in for a yelling match with his boss. Yet, it was hard. Something was wrong, and he was determined to figure it out. That and Ally’s kidnapping.
Argh! He need to get away from this desk and this tiny room or he’ll be rooming next to Hermione. Finally making a decision, he shut the folder, leaving it on Neville’s desk.
The hospital was still dreary, as it was expected. He assumed that he was miles above ground, for the lack of space on the ground level. That and it was easier to keep the wards under control. No one asked why Harry was there. They went onto whatever they were doing, whether it was talking to a patient’s family or checking in on their wards. Some of these could have been spies, Harry thought. Harry kept on walking until room 434.
The room was cleared, all except Hermione. He paused, looking into the squared window that was placed fixedly into the door. She was standing by the window, tracing the bars that were positioned outside of her window. Her face was exceptionally blanked and her eyes were unfocused, turned to the mountains.
From her patterns on the window, dimming the fog that rested on it, Harry could conclude that it was chilly outside; though that the inside didn’t reflect the cold. Gaining his will, Harry turned to door handle, and was surprised that it wasn’t locked.
Hermione turned around from the window at the sound of the door opening. She didn’t have her daily check-up until 7:30 p.m. and she didn’t have visitors. Harry watched Hermione blink.
“Hello, Hermione,” Harry said, looking down at the stuffed hippogriff that he was holding.
In reply, Hermione arched her neck to the left.
“So, how have you’ve been?”
Her face was so blank. Nonetheless, her eyes had a trivial insight as if she was trying to tell him to get over with the welcomes. Harry sighed and bit his lip watching as Hermione leaned onto the window ledge. “You’re not going to talk to me. Fine. Let me tell you, I don’t care if you don’t want to talk, but you have something that might save my godchild, whom I love like my own. I’m not going to let her die because of you.” He moved closer, surprised at his own harshness, but he didn’t let it show. “You have something that Voldemort wants. Give it to me.”
She blinked again.
Harry slapped his hands to his face. He needed to calm down. That much was needed. When he looked up again, Hermione had her head facing away from Harry, looking out of the window. Harry’s insides were struggling to keep their form. He looked down to where her hand was situated on the wall, making her uniform sleeve slip a little. On her wrist he could see a glint of gold. Suspicion wiped away all of the anger as he reached over to take her arm.
Hermione whipped her face around, her blank expression disappeared. In its place was a frightened expression as she too looked down at her wrist. Harry’s eyebrows heightened in confusion as he looked down. On her skinny wrist was a charm bracelet... the very one that Ron and he had got for her for Christmas nine years ago. As they looked into each other’s eyes, both with angry expressions, Harry’s memories of that time brought forth.
Hermione’s eyes were trying to get him away, telling him he had no right to come in here and demand something that she couldn’t give. She might have been insane, but damn, she was intimidating.
Harry let go of her wrist. Now he knew for sure that she had something that Voldemort wanted. But the question was if she was going to give it away to Harry to save Ally. If Harry knew Hermione, he also knew that she was stubborn to all of the way.
He stopped when he saw Neville waiting by the door, looking at him. Harry bit his lip and made his way outside of Hermione’s cell. The steel door now separating from her tormentor, Hermione had gone back looking out of the window. Sighing, Neville said, “Have you’ve been though all of the files?”
“Halfway. I’m thinking about calling it quits. There’s nothing in those files Neville.”
Neville crossed his arms. “You just need to keep on reading.”
Harry growled. “What have I’ve been doing for the past eleven hours Neville? Reading about the reports that the various doctors have made about how insane Hermione Granger is!”
Neville looked around them, making sure no one was listening. He was sure that he wouldn’t be allowed to give others the patient’s folder to read. “Ok, fine. I know you want to help her but...” Neville paused, closing his eyes. “Just, just go home and get a rest. Come back and read. Just get a rest.”
Author Notes: Well, I hoped that was interesting. It was a hard chapter, as it was focusing on Harry after the whole ordeal and Voldemort’s attacks. Remember, this is chapter one. I couldn’t really focusing the whole thing on Voldemort’s attacks. That is not what this story is for. Oh, and just in. If you want updates as to where I am on this story, leave your email. I’ll send you loads of TUOIA updates- however, nothing else. I promise.
Author Responses to the Prologue reviewers:
Angelic Ashley- Ha! You reviewed! After all of my pushing and whining- Read my story, I read yours, blahblahblah. And it is supposed to be annoying! Thank you for that compliment- Oh well, I know you and I know your writing style so this is bound to be good! When I read it, it made me felt very good. Thanks... and in my mind St ‘Mangos’ is a fruit.. hehe, never mind. Just Joking. It is a hospital.
Arkbar- Oh... I am so happy that you said that not much was given away... that was what I was hoping for. Secrets are fun, especially when you won’t give them away to your die-hard Harry Potter FanFic friends... *grins evilly* Well, you said something about Voldemort being human... I don’t think I was thinking about that, but maybe my unconscious-state of mind was and thought that Voldemort has been in the world for ten years now-- he needs to ask sorta human.
blah gurl- NO! Not read between the lines... read between the letters- cause it was one word, as you saw from other Author responses.
Darth Flirt yup, you are right, you are going to know what is wrong with Hermione within a few chapters.
Revia- Another person who can whack me on the head with the fifth Harry Potter book, when it came out. And I thought I was being sneaky. Stupid me. Good conclusion about Hermione telling Harry about the conclusion, yet it wouldn’t be reality. Hermione had that dream, about she telling Dumbledore and Harry, yet in the end, the information killed everyone she loved. So she went into hiding so no Harry and Ron wouldn’t die because of her. Selfish, really, but without it, it would be really fake.
silent_sinta- Oh no! That is just really funny... I think I made a slight joke that Harry is going to be rooming next to Hermione if he didn’t figure out what happened! I’m such an idiot. Hopefully this chapter had you on the edge of your seat! Oh, and do you actually think I am going to tell you what Hermione is going to do? No way.
Twirler- Oh my. I really need to stump you guys. I don’t know what I was thinking when I made that challenge. You can whack me upside the head. You guys are really smart or I am really dumb to say ‘Hey there’s something wrong with Gricrucio.’ Well, you didn’t get the answer in this chapter. Next chapter.
Other Similar Stories
You Never Know