Voldemort's Blight Chapter 2 (Patreon)

When the sun began to settle over the horizon, the orange glow seemed to brighten everything outside of the Bubble. If you squinted at it just right, you could imagine that things were as they once were.

A puff of red-and-gold smoke obscured Harry’s vision as he exhaled. He carefully dangled the hand-carved pipe loosely between his lips. It’d been given to him, along with many of Hagrid’s other effects, after the half-giant died trying to save some stupid kids who were trying to act macho and see which one would be the bravest by getting as close to the edge of the Bubble as possible. One of them had slipped, and Hagrid had thrown himself forward, pawing the boy back into safety as he fell and rolled out of the Bubble. Hagrid died seconds later as he tried to scramble back inside. The blight had been faster than him.

Harry was laid back against the sloped roof of Hogwarts. His feet were pressed firmly against the thick lip at the edge of the roof, granting him a bit of safety so that he didn’t accidentally fall off. It was a quiet, peaceful place he could visit to relax. No one bothered him up here. Not usually, anyways.

He spotted Hermione flying a broom up to him well before she spotted him. Even now, she was still skittish on them. She flew like a first-year going through their first few lessons, all timid and uncertain. Though, that may have more to do with her coming to see him right now rather than flying itself.

When she spotted him, she made a beeline over and got close enough to see that there wasn’t anywhere safe for her to land. Harry figured that she’d turn around and give up on her mission. Instead, she furrowed her brows and got as close to the roof as she dared before suddenly leaping off of the broom.

At the last second, the broom bucked and tipped forward. Hermione’s jump barely had any momentum to carry her, but Harry was right there, snapping forward with a hand to grab onto her wrist and pull her back against the roof with him. As her broom plummeted towards the ground below, Harry drew his wand.

“Accio broomstick.”

The old Cleansweep came right back to him. He snatched it out of the air and set it next to his own Firebolt.

“Hate these bloody things,” Hermione muttered as she got situated like he was. She was obviously incredibly uncomfortable being here so high up, but she wasn’t about to turn away now that she was here.

“You should keep yours locked up with the rest then,” Harry replied. “Aren’t they only supposed to be used in emergencies anyways?”

“Now felt like enough of an emergency,” Hermione said, her eyes trying to find the point on the distant horizon he was staring off at. “How are you feeling?” She asked him tentatively, like he was going to lash out at her for such a simple question. He had countless times in the past when he was angry or frustrated, but he only felt drained of energy now.

“Fine,” he replied dryly. “Not looking forward to the next meeting, that’s for sure.”

“Everyone will be on edge for a few days,” Hermione agreed. “Do you think it’s doable?”

“Going out into the world again in search of something we’ve failed to find four times now?” Harry wanted to scoff, but that would just hurt Hermione more than his words already would. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” She asked him, genuinely curious.

“Because…”

There were so many answers he could give her, some crueler than others. He didn’t particularly feel like giving her any of them, especially not now.

Harry wasted time by wandlessly reigniting his pipe even though it didn’t need it. “What makes you think this time will be any different?”

“Hope,” she answered earnestly. “Everything can’t all just be miserable. We’ve tried before and… you know it didn’t work out how any of us hoped. We lost so much, but still…”

“You want a different outcome,” Harry finished for her.

“I believe there will be,” she corrected him gently. Slowly, Hermione leaned herself against him, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. “I know that if things had been different, Ron would’ve already signed up to go. He was reckless like that. And just as heroic.”

“Don’t talk about Ron to me,” Harry said sharply. He didn’t want to be reminded of his past failures.

Still, Hermione gave the horizon a bitter smile. “He would’ve been kissing me and promising to come back as soon as he could. He’d tell me that everything would be alright, that he’d set up a special dinner for just the two of us when he got back. We’d drink and dance the night away, forgetting all the time he was gone. And I’d cry knowing that he was going off somewhere dangerous, but he’d just promise me again and again that he’d come back. He never really knew what else to say besides that.”

Did any of them? Everyone who’d gone out on missions outside of the Bubble had been made well aware of the risks that came with such an undertaking. Yet, they’d still chosen to do so. All of them had friends and families to comfort and promise that everything would be fine. Hell, Harry had done the exact same thing twice already.

“I can still remember how he looked the day that he left,” Hermione continued. “I wanted him going out in fresh robes, but he said his dirty ones would do. No point in wasting fresh water when he was going to come home dirty anyways.”

Harry bit his tongue to keep from saying what was on his mind. He really didn’t want to ruin this peaceful moment of his.

Quickly, he took a couple of puffs from his pipe. The smoke drifted off above the setting sun.

“I waited day after day for him, and then when you and Ernie came back all alone…”

Hermione started to choke on her watery words as tears sprang from her eyes. Harry made no move to comfort her besides leaning his weight a bit more against her shoulder.

“I know he wouldn’t want to see me like this, but I hope that he’d be proud that I still believe our world can be saved,” Hermione blubbered out. “He looked up to you so much. No matter how hard he tried, he always thought that you were doing so much more than him. It made him try to be a better man even when he was already so amazing the way he was. He wanted you to see him as an equal.”

“I always did,” Harry muttered bitterly, flicking the tobacco out from his pipe. It was a waste, but he was quickly losing his taste for it.

“I know, and a part of him did too,” Hermione cried quietly. “But he always just wanted to do more. If you could reach the sun then he’d try to land on the moon. You gave him a reason to try to fight as much as I did.”

“And what did it cost him?” Harry finally snapped, regretting his words almost instantly, yet he continued on with them. “He went out there and got himself killed! It was all a waste! A fool’s errand, nothing more! We went searching for ghosts and came up with nothing! Who’s to say that this time will be any different?”

“No one,” Hermione shrugged, wiping at her eyes. It wasn’t quite enough to stem the flow of tears. “You might go out and learn that Septima’s coordinates are all wrong again like last time. Maybe it’s just another concentration of Voldemort’s Blight, and the second you portkey into it you’ll turn to ash and die. But I know that Ron would go. Even when his faith waned in those around him, he always came around to believe and stand by them. He was the first person to volunteer for the first three missions. If he were here today, he’d volunteer for this one too.”

“But he’s not here. I am,” Harry pointed out angrily. “Do you seriously just expect me to go back out there after everything I’ve been through?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied bluntly, stunning Harry. “Because the Harry Potter I know has hope. He hopes for a brighter tomorrow, a better future for us all. He’s the type of man who’d throw his body into the line of fire to protect any random stranger he saw about to be hurt.”

“Then why didn’t I go out on the last mission?” He questioned her.

“Because you were still hurting,” Hermione said, placing a hand on his chest and staring up at him with sincerity. “No one can handle everything by themselves. You needed a break, and you got one.”

“It cost six people their lives,” Harry retorted. “If I’d been there—”

“You would’ve died like the rest of them,” Hermione interrupted before he could say something they both knew wasn’t true. “Everything went wrong from the start. Cho should’ve led everyone back to the surface before they got too deep into the Pacific. She knew that they didn’t have enough Gillyweed in her emergency cache.”

If he’d been there, he wouldn’t have let them go through with the mission. Or maybe he would have. Maybe he would’ve told them to carry on, risking their lives on a slim chance to end Voldemort’s cruel punishment, even when his every instinct told him to turn back. He’d done that before, after all.

“And it was another time that Septima thought that she’d found the source,” Harry pointed out.

“Every time she’d been wrong was for good reason,” Hermione argued. “Her logic has always been sound. She’s been finding concentrations of magic along the lay lines of our planet. It was only natural to think that large spikes of magic were the source. And no one could’ve predicted that the collapse of the Australian and Hawaiian Bubbles would look like that on her detectors.”

“I still haven’t seen anything to suggest that this time will be any different.”

“Neither have I,” Hermione admitted with a weak smile. “All I have is blind hope.”

“That’s not a very Hermione-like thing to have.”

“It’s something I picked up from Ron.”

Harry fell silent at that. Without the pipe to smoke, his fingers felt restless. He wanted to grab his wand and go through his training routine of spells that he battered practice dummies with. At least then he’d be able to get out this pent-up anxiety within him.

“I haven’t told anyone else this yet,” Hermione said after several moments of silence. “But our situation here at Hogwarts is worse than anyone else truly knows. With our food supply dwindling and the steady number of births we’re seeing month after month, we’re bound to start strict rationing by the end of winter. Come springtime, we’ll be struggling to feed everyone unless our borders expand. Even then, it’ll take months before we can reap the benefits of it.”

“What are you saying? That we’re going to starve?” Harry asked.

“By this time next year, yes,” Hermione admitted grimly. “Distributing the food out equally will lead to everyone becoming malnourished. I’ve already been toying with the idea of asking the elderly to make a voluntary sacrifice by walking outside of the Bubble to save the younger generations. I hate that I’d even have to bring something like that up.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad. If we expand our borders—”

“It still won’t be enough,” Hermione emphasised. “My estimations are based on best-case scenarios. Imagine how much trouble there’ll be when people learn that we’re cutting down on their rations. There won’t be enough aurors to deal with that.”

Harry shook his head. “Is this your way of trying to convince me to go out there again?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered honestly. “You’re the only person I truly believe can fix this mess we’re in. I know that it’s not fair to put so much weight on your shoulders, but I won’t hide something as serious as this if I believe it’ll change your attitude. It’s only a matter of time before the blight wins and destroys what’s left of magic in this world. And once magic fades, Earth will be no different than the moon, just a lifeless mass floating through space. Voldemort cannot be allowed to win, even in death. If he did… then Ron’s sacrifice would’ve been for nothing.”

So that was what it ultimately came down to then. As much as she tried to mask it with probabilistic language and arguments over what she believed to be important for civilisation as a whole, Harry knew that Hermione was still grieving Ron deeply all these months later. It was his belief in a brighter future that drove her onward, something that Harry had lost himself long ago.

She wanted his death to mean something.

Harry did too.

Instead, his death just meant more sleepless nights for Harry, hearing his best friend’s screams echo when the blight started eating him from the inside out after his last ward stone expired.

Harry closed his eyes and saw Ron’s pained face. His eyes were snapped wide open, a dark smoke billowing out of his mouth. He tried clawing at his own chest, making inch-deep gashes in his flesh as he physically tried to tear the blight out of himself. Then his skin faded in colour and he collapsed to the ground dead.

He still hadn’t told Hermione the real truth of Ron’s final moments. He’d come up with a far-more comforting lie: that Ron has faced the blight bravely, that he’d died quickly with his last words being that he loved Harry and Hermione. She knew it wasn’t the truth, but she only ever asked him to repeat that story, as if hearing it enough times would trick her brain into believing it to be what actually happened.

Would someone tell Hermione that he died bravely if he went out there again?

Twilight was upon them now as the sun fully faded from sight, and it brought a chill that had Hermione shivering.

“Will you go?” She asked him.

“It’s hard to say no after how much effort you put into manipulating me,” he replied with a wry smile.

“I prefer to think of it as motivation,” Hermione said. “And I did mean every single word of it.”

“I know you did. That’s why I’m not mad at you. Not that mad, anyways.”

“We’ll make sure that you have everything you need to go out safely,” she told him. “We’ve already been gathering it up.”

“We?”

“The council. They’ve been putting together a team for this, but they were hoping that you’d lead it. You’re known for doing the impossible.”

“I’m not going with a team,” Harry said. “If I’m doing this, I’m doing it alone. I don’t want anyone else dying.”

Hermione frowned at him. “You know that we can’t allow that. We need multiple people for redundancy. If something goes wrong, then we need to make sure that someone can get back here to let us know what happened.”

“Fine, then I’ll go with one other person. Just one.”

“That’s going to be a hard sell to the rest of the council.”

“If I really push the matter, they can’t stop me.”

“What about a smaller team? Four of you could—”

“Nope.”

“Three then.”

“I know that you know that two is not the same as three.”

“Two people then,” Hermione reluctantly agreed.

“I’ll take Susan—”

“She’s needed to keep our greenhouses going.”

“Ernie—”

“Is in the dungeons for stealing whiskey again. He’s not in a fit mental state to go outside of the Bubble; he’s not even allowed near the border of it.”

Harry took in a deep breath and sighed. “Just tell me who it is you have lined up for this extra spot.”

“The problem that we’ve always faced is that we don’t know what’s actually powering this blight,” Hermione began in that roundabout way she always did when she was trying to convince him of something he wasn’t going to be in favour of. “It could be an ongoing ritual, some type of magical artefact, or something else entirely, and Voldemort’s bound to have put some pretty strong protections over it. You need someone to go with you who has the breadth of knowledge required to deal with anything that comes your way. That’s why I’m coming with you.”

“Out of the question,” Harry rejected her instantly. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or her abilities, it was that he didn’t trust himself to be able to bring her back alive. Anything could go wrong out there, and he didn’t want to lose his other best friend because of it.

“I’m more than capable of doing this, Harry. It’s my choice.”

“Guess again,” Harry retorted sharply. “You’re not going out there to risk your life.”

“You need me on this mission,” Hermione insisted.

“I need you to stay here and keep Hogwarts under control. Blimey, Hermione. We could be out there for nearly two weeks. Do you really think that Hogwarts would manage without its quartermaster to keep everything running smoothly?”

“I’ve prepared instructions and lists—”

“I’m not letting you risk your life on this. Ron would never forgive me if I let you go out there.”

“Now who’s the one being manipulative?” Hermione’s nostrils flared in frustration.

“I don’t care. I’ve been dealing with your one-sided compromises enough today, but this is where I put my foot down. If you want me going out there, then you’re staying in here. And if you go out there, then I’m staying,” Harry told her, the matter decided in his mind. “Give me a list of anyone else who fits the requirements.”

“There isn’t anyone,” Hermione argued. “Bill needs to stay here to oversee the Bubble—there’s no one who understands it half as well as he does. Septima is marvellous at theory but balks under pressure—you remember why we had to pull her off of Bubble duty in the first place, don’t you? Daphne…”

That familiar, brilliant flash of inspiration shot through Hermione’s eyes. They twinkled the way Dumbledore’s used to.

“Daphne could do it,” Hermione muttered to herself.

“Absolutely not,” Harry shot the idea down quickly. “She’s a menace.”

“Only to you. And she knows more than just about anyone else about the blight. Granted, she doesn’t exactly seem like the adventurous type, but she fits all of the other boxes.”

“What about her parents and her… sister?” Harry couldn’t quite remember if she had any other siblings. “They’ll worry about her if she leaves.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at his weak excuse. “Do you have any legitimate reasons as to why she shouldn’t come besides the fact that the two of you hate each other?”

“We’ll probably kill each other before we find the cause of the blight,” Harry said.

“No you won’t. You know how important this mission is. Even if you get on each other’s nerves, I trust that you’ll put all of that aside when the time comes. You did it when you went out with Draco on the first mission.”

“Yeah, and I nearly left the git behind because he was whinging so much.”

“But you didn’t,” Hermione said. “And you won’t leave Daphne behind either. If you really don’t want to go with her, then I’m your only other option.”

“Is there really no one else?” Harry asked.

To her credit, Hermione did think about it for a few moments. “With how bad the state of managing the Bubble is right now, we can’t afford to pull anyone off of it. McDermid and Kelleway would be the only two people working on the Bubble I’d trust with a mission like this. Outside of them, myself, and Daphne, I don’t think that there’s anyone capable of doing this mission with you.”

“Then have Daphne take their place on the Bubble and give me one of them.”

“They both oversee teams of enchanters until Bill. Even though Daphne would have no problem working on the line, she wouldn’t be able to just walk in and take over an entire team.”

“What about—”

“Could you quit searching for excuses and just give in already?” Hermione huffed. “Me or Daphne. Pick.”

The next day, Harry found Daphne in the Great Hall. The enormous room was overcrowded with hungry people, few of whom seemed pleased with the fact that today’s breakfast seemed slightly smaller than the one from the day before. How small would it get before he came back?

Daphne was hugging a chestnut-haired witch tightly while Draco and Narcissa Malfoy stood off to the side. That had to be her younger sister, Astoria, but where were her parents?

Draco said something to them and gestured towards Harry with his head. Daphne gave her sister one last squeeze and whispered something into her ear before pulling away. She didn’t look back once as she practically marched over to Harry’s side.

“Just so you know, I tried to get a different partner for this mission,” she told him the second he was in earshot, looking annoyed that he was in her presence.

Harry gave her a mocking smile. “I tried the same thing. Guess we’re both off to a roaring start.”

“Just don’t slow me down and we’ll be fine,” Daphne said as she walked straight past him.

Slow going was all they had once they left the Bubble, but she didn’t know that yet. There were dangers and unexpected dilemmas at every turn. She’d learn soon enough. He just hoped that it wouldn’t cost her life.

Even if she was Daphne Greengrass, he couldn’t stand to watch any more people die at the hands of Voldemort.