Harry x Hermione: It started early

Chapter 61

Chapter 61: Shattered Memories

The aftermath of the Quidditch match left Hogwarts in a state of unease. Whispers of Harry's confrontation with Dean Thomas echoed through the castle, and the scars on the Gryffindor common room walls seemed to absorb the residual tension. Hermione, haunted by both recent events and the uncertainty of her pregnancy, found herself grappling with the weight of her choices.

The revelation of the possible fatherhood of Ron Weasley loomed over her like a storm cloud. In the quiet moments between classes and in the stillness of the night, her mind replayed the night she and Harry had been together. She vividly recalled Harry reaching for a condom, a gesture she had initially brushed aside in her preoccupation with the complexities of their relationship. Now, the memory became a lifeline, a potential shield against the possibility that Ron might be the father.

The scars on Hermione's chest, concealed beneath layers of fabric and magical concealments, seemed to throb with the burden of her doubts. The Gryffindor common room, once a place of camaraderie, now held a discordant energy that mirrored the fractures in Hermione's world.

One evening, as the sunset cast a warm glow over the castle, Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office. The scars on Dumbledore's face, etched with the wisdom of ages, seemed to deepen as he spoke with Harry about memories of Tom Riddle.

In the Pensieve, the ripples of memory unfolded like a tapestry of shadows. A young Tom Riddle, orphaned and alone, navigated the harsh realities of life before Hogwarts. Dumbledore's commentary provided context to the fragments of a past that would later cast a long shadow over the wizarding world.

As Harry observed the young Voldemort's journey, the scars on his chest resonated with a newfound understanding. The echoes of Tom Riddle's childhood, marked by loneliness and a thirst for power, reverberated through the office like a cautionary tale.

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione found herself in the midst of an unexpected vision. An outer-body experience transported her to a battlefield, where Harry faced Voldemort in a duel of unparalleled intensity. The scars on her chest, hidden beneath layers of fabric, seemed to pulse with a shared connection as she watched the harrowing confrontation unfold.

In the vision, Voldemort's cruel laughter echoed through the air as he struck Harry down. Hermione, a helpless spectator in the ethereal realm, felt the gut-wrenching pain of loss as Harry's lifeless body fell to the ground. Tears streamed down her face, a testament to the raw emotions that transcended the boundaries of reality.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume her, Harry's voice cut through the illusion. "Hermione, come back. It's not real."

Her eyes snapped open to find herself back in the familiar surroundings of Gryffindor Tower. The scars on her chest, still pulsing with the lingering emotions of the vision, seemed to carry the weight of a reality that teetered on the edge of despair.

Harry, his concern etched on his face, reached out to her. "Hermione, are you okay?"

The tears in her eyes betrayed the depth of her emotions as she enveloped him in a tight embrace. The scars on their chests, both seen and concealed, seemed to meld in the shared vulnerability of the moment.

"I saw you die, Harry," Hermione whispered, her voice a fragile tremor. "It felt so real, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Harry's grip tightened, a silent reassurance that transcended the boundaries of words. "It wasn't real, Hermione. I'm here, alive. We can't let visions dictate our actions."

The scars on Hermione's chest, hidden beneath layers of fabric, throbbed with the residual echoes of the vision. "Dumbledore told you about Horcruxes, didn't he?"

Harry nodded, the weight of the revelation settling between them. "Yes, he did. We need to find and destroy them to defeat Voldemort once and for all."

The scars on Hermione's chest, both visible and concealed, seemed to pulse with a newfound determination. "Then we'll do it together, Harry. We'll find those Horcruxes and put an end to this."

As the night unfolded, Harry and Hermione began to outline their plans. The scars on their chests, etched with the complexities of their journey, seemed to carry the weight of a shared destiny. In the encroaching darkness, they forged a pact to confront the looming shadows that threatened to engulf the wizarding world.

The Gryffindor common room, once tainted by the discord of recent events, became a haven for strategic discussions and shared purpose. The scars on the walls, silent witnesses to the ebb and flow of history, seemed to absorb the echoes of determination that emanated from the duo.

As Harry and Hermione delved into the mysteries that awaited them, the scars on their chests, both seen and concealed, became a testament to the resilience that defined their journey. The outer world mirrored the inner complexities, and in the heart of the storm, a quiet resolve to confront destiny emerged—a resolve that would carry them through the shadows toward the promise of a brighter dawn.