thestoryweaver: baccano: rachel (Default)
[personal profile] thestoryweaver
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets [J.K. Rowling]
Pairing: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Notes: Set in the Chamber of Secrets period. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic ever.

After supper, he dashed to the infirmary. Only one thing was on his mind; he didn't even notice Ron's strange looks, and he didn't stop when Neville called him.

As he reached the door, he paused for a while to catch his breath. He placed his hand over his chest and felt his pulse. Strangely enough, it was beating hard not because of his unexpected marathon but because of something else.

Fear.

He shook his head, trying to chase away the disturbing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Then, he opened the door and walked inside, straight towards a familiar figure lying in bed.

Madam Pomfrey was right. There was no use talking to a Petrified person. Surely, Hermione wouldn't hear a word of what he would say.

"Hermione." He sat down beside her and patted her hand gently.

There was no reply.

He felt uneasy. If Malfoy was in the infirmary right now, he'd be laughing at him for talking to someone who was turned to stone...

"Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey remarked. She was standing behind him. "I'm afraid she cannot hear you. You and Mr. Weasley have been here before---"

"Madam Pomfrey...can I stay for a while?"

"But---"

"Please? I won't make any trouble. I'll...just talk to her."

The witch shook her head. Whether it was out of disapproval or pity, Harry didn't know. Then she sighed resignedly. "All right. But only for a few minutes. Don't take long." Drawing the curtains around Hermione's bed for privacy, she walked away to attend to the other patients.

"Hello, Hermione. I'm back again."

As if on cue, the window across the young wizard opened. Harry turned his head at the sound.

A gentle breeze floated inside the room, carrying with it the sounds of students laughing.

"See Hermione, you should get back to normal soon. We all miss you."

He patted her hand affectionately once again.

Hermione's hand was cold. Stone cold.

Nevertheless, Harry gripped it as if to give her warmth. It was useless. Still, he held on to her.

"Hermione." He whispered with desperation. "I'm scared."

The breeze played with his hair.

"What was it that attacked you?"

More laughter from downstairs.

"I wish you could hear me, Hermione. I thought you of all people would understand. I want it to end, because I'm afraid that it'll be too late---"

He remembered the Mandrake Potion.

If there was a cure, then why does he still feel that strange fear in his heart? The fear that he felt when he saw the expression in Professor McGonagall's eyes when she held out Hermione's hand mirror?

"What would Ron say if he could see me right now?"

He didn't tell his best friend that he was planning to visit Hermione alone...to talk to her. He wanted to tell her things that only she could possibly know and understand.

"What if...I was...the Heir of Slytherin?"

A sudden hush came across the students who were formerly laughing.

"I know it's a silly idea, but what if it's true? You said it yourself that I'm a Parselmouth...and..."

There was silence.

"Back in first year...it thought of putting me in...Slytherin."

The laughter downstairs started again.

"It said that being in Slytherin could help me become...great. And it adds up... Ernie said that I'm the one attacking the Muggles because of my hatred for the Dursleys...what if it's true?"

A girl giggled.

"What if...I may not know it, but I could be the one attacking you?"

He heard Filch cursing the noisy students.

"What if somehow...I was responsible for...what happened to you?"

Harry.

He looked up and frantically scanned the room. But there was no one.

His green eyes gazed over Hermione's still form.

A ghost of a smile was on the young witch's face.

The breeze once again entered the room.

It's all right..

Harry stood up and kissed Hermione on the forehead.

"Good night, Hermione. I'll be back soon."

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Kaoru, the Story Weaver

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