Hermione Granger and the Paradigm Shift

Chapter 19 - Part 3

Three hours later Harry was asleep and full of several potions meant to ensure that he would stay that way for the immediate future. Hermione had supplied a full recounting of everything that had happened to Professor McGonagall. The room was now calm and quiet with most of the injured students having healed and sent to their common room, the castle in a temporary lockdown. Supper was a few hours away but Hermione felt like she had been awake for a week. All other visitors had been sent away due to the lockdown by Madam Pomfrey but Hermione had refused, taking up a silent vigil by Harry's side and monitoring the map for any other threats.

She was broken from her musings by a voice from across the room.

"How is he?" Daphne asked, her voice muted and raw.

Hermione made her way over to Daphne's bedside. "Like you I suppose. Thoroughly miserable but too stubborn to show it. Why aren't you sleeping?"

'I refused that potion. My parents are due any moment and I need to speak with them," she supplied.

Daphne sat up slightly, grimacing in pain at the slight movement. "And I wanted to talk to you, about your cloak."

Hermione reflexively clutched her bag where the cloak was stored and scanned the room to see if anyone had overheard their conversation.

"Don't worry," Daphne said, purposely speaking in a near whisper, "your secret is safe with me. But you need to know...that cloak is special."

Hermione nodded her head. "It's a Potter family heirloom. It does seem to be more powerful than most cloaks from what I've read about them."

"It's more than that, Hermione. It isn't just special...I think it's one of a kind special. I've never heard of a cloak being resistant to detection and summoning spells."

"Surely you are exaggerating..."

"I'm assuming you've tracked down a copy of Beedle the Bard by now?" Daphne asked. At Hermione's nod, she continued. "Have you read The Tale of the Three Brothers."

"You're joking," Hermione replied, not quite believing such a fantastical story could be true.

"My family has spent years obsessing over that book. Every story...any and every clue that could lead to a solution...especially one that deals with mastering death. My parents are convinced that the Hallows are real."

"Hallows?"

"The Deathly Hallows. The wand, the stone, and the cloak."

Hermione instantly recalled Dumbledore's expression when he saw the book in her hand. She still remained skeptical.

"I find it hard to believe that Death goes around handing out magical artifacts."

"That part is nonsense of course but that doesn't mean the fairy tale isn't based on real life events." Daphne paused and nodded toward the bed next to her as confirmation of her statement.

Astoria.

According to Susan Bones, Astoria had been hit by a simple bludgeoning spell but she seemed much worse off than any of the other students who had been involved in the fighting. The girl looked so frail and withdrawn...like death warmed over. Hermione had never noticed how pale and thin the girl looked in the past but now that she knew of her condition she could see nothing else.

"I'm sorry," Hermione stated, once again not knowing what else to say, "and I'm sorry protecting me led to you being discovered."

"My idiot sister has probably taken a few years off of her life by helping today," Daphne continued. "It's ridiculous and irrational but part of me stupidly hoped that by helping you we could cure Astoria of this wretched curse."

Daphne wiped at her eyes angrily. "Astoria and I knew the risks when we decided to help. Harry was smart not to let them know about the cloak and protect you."

As Hermione was pondering Daphne's words she heard a gasp and saw Harry's eyes shoot open. He tried to sit up before sagging back into his bed, the lingering pain caused by his prior torture hitting him in full force.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, quickly rushing to his side.

"Draco is dead," he informed, his voice gravelly and hoarse as he placed a hand on his scar. "Voldemort tracked him down and killed him. He said there couldn't be any loose ends."

"You saw it?" she asked in horror. It had been almost a year since his last vision.

He nodded with a grimace. "I don't think he wanted me to see it...it felt like he'd lost a bit of control...like he was furious but enjoying it at the same time. He made his parents watch, Hermione. They just stood there."

Hermione grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the nearby basin before placing it on Harry's forehead.

"I hate that you have this connection-"

Hermione purposely stopped herself from continuing her thought out loud. The HDF and the resulting drama had served as a distraction from the horrifying theory she'd had since learning of Horcruxes.

Harry had a connection to Voldemort.

"Close your eyes and try and go back to sleep, let the potion do its work," she urged.

Harry had a connection to Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"I need to tell Dumbledore," he murmured as his eyes slid shut, the potion taking affect once again.

Horcruxes were created by killing someone

"I'll tell him," she soothed. "Please try and sleep."

She placed the washcloth back in the basin and grabbed Harry's hand. It was softer now that he'd quit playing Quidditch. She prayed for the day when she'd get to feel those rough calluses once again.

Harry had survived being struck by the killing curse.

She brushed Harry's fringe back and looked at his infamous scar. It may have been her imagination but it looked brighter than normal.

Dumbledore knew something he hadn't shared with Harry.

She looked at Harry once again and a decision was made. No more secrets. No more unanswered questions. She needed to talk to Dumbledore.