The Lost Horcrux

A Darkling Plain

"You don't remember?" Enola asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"I remember being in my Ritual Room," Harry told her. "Then something hit me, I passed out from the pain, then you showed up and came into my mind. What was I doing?"

"You were facing a Horcrux," Enola reminded him. "I assume you destroyed it, because that was all over by the time I got there. But you were in a state of physical shock. You'd done something very stupid ... not to mention very sneaky. You tapped into Hermione's energies and -"

"- stole all her pains!" Harry filled in slyly. "Yes, I remember now. No wonder I hurt so much."

"Harry Potter! How could you!?" Enola admonished. "I don't need to tell you how idiotic a thing that was to do? You could have killed yourself! In fact, you could have killed her!"

Harry shook his head. "I knew what I was doing."

"Clearly not!" Enola argued, vehemently. "Or else we wouldn't be here. What I don't understand, though, is why you came to this particular place ... this wasn't where I intended to send you."

"I think I understand," Harry mused. He began strolling around as he thought. "This place is fairly new ... you wouldn't have known about it. You tried to send me to my Pain Plain, yes?"

"That was the plan," Enola confirmed. "I didn't want to, but Nev suggested it ... and I couldn't come up with a better idea on the spot. Hermione was going crazy with worry next to me, see, and I couldn't think clearly with her in such a frenzy."

Harry frowned at her. "You didn't tell Hermione about this place, did you?"

"Not everything, but I had to tell her something," Enola confessed, sheepishly. "You know how stubborn she can be. She wanted to come with me ... but I didn't give her a chance to argue her case."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," Harry huffed. "I'd just have rather her not known about this place at all."

"This isn't something you could have kept from her for very long, Harry," Enola pointed out. "It's too fundamental to who you are these days. She'd have found out one way or another."

Harry sighed in agreement. "I suppose you're right. I just wish it hadn't happened so soon."

"Perhaps it's easier to just get it over with," Enola replied, sniffily. "So, what can you tell me about this new place? Why are we here, and not dragging you away from one of your nightmares?"

"Ever since my brain reached a certain level of healing, my mind has started to take a sort of control down here," Harry began. "Anything new I need to siphon off, my higher brain function does it for me, without my conscious involvement. It doesn't make it any easier, but it takes a load off."

"Ahh, I think I see," Enola nodded in understanding. "So because I sent you here carrying Hermione's problems ..."

"... it didn't know quite where to put me," Harry completed for her. "I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with how I view her problems, let alone face them as if I was her."

Enola nodded in consoling sympathy. "You have to start by doing the utmost hardest thing ... forgiving yourself. Even Hermione knows that."

"And I still can't do that most basic part ... I still own a huge share of that blame."

"Despite all of the things that Hermione said to you?" Enola asked. "She told me all about her meeting with you. In fact, we've talked about little else."