Power He Knows Not

From Out of the Wardrobe

At breakfast, Harry sat hunched over a cup of coffee, staring at the piece of toast he had been thoughtlessly chewing a moment before, when his friends found him.

"There you are mate!" Ron said, plopping down in the seat next to Harry's, "how long have you been up?"

When Harry gave no response, Ron looked up from the plate of sausages he had been filling his own plate from. He and Hermione gave Harry near identical looks of worry, as he continued to stare at his toast blankly.

"Harry?" Hermione reached across the table and gently nudged his shoulder.

Harry startled, turning his wide, slightly unfocused gaze to his best friends.

"What?"

The two shared a worried look, before Hermione said, very gently,

"Harry... did you sleep at all last night? You don't look well. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

Harry shook his head,

"'S'alright, Hermione. I just woke a bit early."

To avoid having to elaborate, Harry crammed the piece of toast in his mouth, chewing steadily for a couple moments before his thoughts petered off, and he unconsciously stopped, staring blankly at his coffee.

His best friends shared another worried look, and Hermione again tried to coax Harry into going to the hospital wing, without much success.

Harry ignored their attempts to get him to talk about what was bothering him all the way to Charms, where they had to drop it, as Professor Flitwick began taking attendance.

Somehow, Harry managed to avoid his friends' questions all the way to dinner, where he sat next to the rest of the quidditch team so they couldn't corner him.

Harry was more tired then he was hungry, so he was the first to leave the Gryffindor table.

Rather then head to the common room, however, Harry turned down a familiar corridor, and paced in front of the tapestry of Barnibus the Barmy, until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared in the opposite wall.

Inside the cluttered room, Harry headed down the nearest alley between stacks of abandoned junk. He quickly lost track of time, shifting through the towers of lost things, looking for the diadem.

As he walked past an old desk he might have already passed, lost again, he noticed something shudder out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he noticed an old cabinet sitting underneath a pile of broken trunks, quivering so badly Harry worried the entire stack would fall. Stepping close to it, he reached out and grasped the handle, pulling one of the doors open.

Harry stepped back quickly, as someone came stumbling out. It took only a moment for him to recognize the bushy mane of hair.

"Hermione?" He asked, reaching out to help steady his friend, wondering how she'd even gotten in the room.

"Don't touch me, freak." She spat, smacking his hand away. Harry reeled back as if she had punched him.

"What? Hermione, are you feeling alright?"

She straightened, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she sneered at him.

"Deaf as well as blind, Freak? Get away from me."

Harry felt a sinking in his gut. What was going on? It didn't sound like Hermione, yet it could be no one else standing there, and he knew both of his best friends' voices almost better then his own.

"Hermione? What's going on?" He asked slowly, trying to ignore the small, nagging voice in the back of his mind.

"Did you really think anyone would want to be friends with you?" She scoffed, "be real."
It felt as though a fiery lance was being driven into his chest.

"You think you'll amount to anything? You'll die alone, just like your freak parents! No one will ever want anything to do with you and your abnormalities! You freak!"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He turned and fled, racing through the towering stacks of abandoned junk, Hermione's voice echoing after him, until he saw the door.

Stopping only long enough to pull it open, Harry ran from the Room of Requirement, not bothering to check that the hallway was empty. He took shortcuts and back passages to avoid Filtch and any patrolling prefects.

It was much later then he had expected. The moonlight shining through the windows he passed made it clear that several hours had gone by since he first entered the Room of Hidden Things.

Harry didn't slow until he reached the Fat Lady's portrait, his thunderous footfalls waking her before he could.

She blinked at him blearily, barely shaking off sleep before she began to berate him.

"What time do you call this? It's half one in the morning! You children may not realize, but-"

"Pine wood!" Harry gasped, interrupting her rant, as he doubled over, trying to regain his breath. She slowly swung open, grumbling under her breath, but Harry ignored her, hurrying through the portrait hole as soon as it was open far enough to admit him.

He climbed the stairs straight to the third year boys' dormitory, dropping onto his four poster and trying to settle his breath, while the others snored peacefully.

It took a while, but he eventually settled in a restless sleep, confusing nightmares chasing each other through his sleeping thoughts.

Boggart Hermione was shit to write. Damn. I kinda just gave up on it.

Anyway, let me know what you think. Hopefully next chapter won't take so long, but no promises.

Hope you enjoyed, and happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Bakeku67