Author's Notes: Hey guys! Hope you like the chapter :P I got a beta to work on my grammar and spelling, yay!
Beta Notes: Okay, so I'm the new beta of this story, zzzooe, hi everyone! *Waves* So, I suppose I'm as excited for this story as you are, so leave reviews and enjoy reading! This is going to be good, so buckle your seat belts; you're in for a bumpy ride! :)
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Consciously Dead
By: Solest-Light-In-The-Dark
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The hospital wing was very still. Everyone was taking in short breaths, as if to not break the silence that had settled itself so keenly into the room. A thin, cold draught flowed under the doorway and between everyone's feet. Inside the room were quite a few people: Mr and Mrs Weasley, Harry and Ginny, Elda and George and finally Hermione and Ronald.
Hermione was laying on one of the hospital beds, Ronald the other. Everyone was silently praying for the both of them; though none of them knew if it would actually help, in fact they doubted it would. The war had been so cruel to them... so cruel. They had lost Fred and then Ronald had ended up nearly killed and Hermione too! Harry was still trying to save Draco from the clutches of Azkaban and Elda had never been so silent in her entire life.
The little girl had been lying in her mother's arms for the last two days. Everyone else had been here for three days, seeing as Murriel had to bring the girl over to St. Mungos. Elda's tiny fingers where clenched onto Hermione's and the baby refused to let go; if she did, it was only for the shortest moment. She knew her mother was going through something horrible and that her father might never come back.
Harry stood up, "I'm going to the ministry, maybe Kingsley will have reached a decision about Malfoy. Contact me if there's any change, in Hermione or Ron," he said tiredly, though he thoroughly doubted there would be any. But he hoped.
Harry lent down and gave Ginny a peck on the forehead before grabbing his jacket and walking solemnly out of the room. It was very cold outside; the weather seemed to reflect the mood in the ward Hermione and Ron were in. It was dreadfully dismal, painful, despairing and eerily silent. Even the healers that came seemed to understand that silence was a must and that it shouldn't be disturbed.
Ginny sighed and a few lone tears trickled down her cheeks before she placed her face in her hands and her sobs were heard throughout the room.
***Flashback*** (A.N. I know, first one :P)
Ron was frantically searching for a pulse, but he couldn't deny he was angry at Hermione. How could she?! She left them and suddenly after months - MONTHS! - She showed herself. But instead of running to him he saw her with him. And not only that... they were holding hands and they looked happy! WASN'T HE THE ONE SHE WAS MEANT TO LOVE? It..., it made his blood boil. It made him want to yell at her just like he had when she was about to leave.
But yelling was useless if she was dead.
Ginny had come forward and screamed, her knees buckling and she joined the search. She found a pulse moments later and her and Harry fell back with Harry quickly running over to Ginny and embracing her, holding her close.
Ron looked down at Hermione's pale face in his hands... She left us... she left me... that... that bitch! He thought angrily, but shook the thought from his mind. Though truthfully, dark thoughts never seem to leave you, so it kept coming back. The same thoughts of anger, of betrayal.
His hand tightened around Hermione's arm; every ounce of anger he seemed to have because she left him was going into the squeeze. 'I hate you.' He whispered softly, but angrily.
A black light flared, enveloping his hand which felt like it was burning. A few students pointed and Ginny's eyes widened. It was an explosion of black light and he fell unconscious next to her, quite aware that she had probably heard him... and hated him for it... hated him for not understanding what she had been through.
***End Flashback***
A healer walked in. He had neat, crisp, greying hair and a face lined with both frown lines, worry lines and laughing lines. His name was Healer Richard Ris, though everyone called him Richard, and if they didn't he would look disappointed, then people usually would. He knelt down next to Ginny.
"Go get some coffee, it'll do you good." Ginny stood up and nodded, Mr and Mrs Weasley quickly followed. The man was one of the best known healers to date, yet he'd brought no news yet. And in the end, he would have forced them to go too. George sat where he was. He hadn't left his brother and near-sister's bed since they came here. He felt responsible... he had been right next to Lestrange, but he hadn't noticed him moving. Deep down inside, he blamed himself.
George looked up. "You know something, and I know you do. You can't hide it from me."
Richard sighed. "Your brother is going to wake up soon, he's been improving... but as he's been improving, Hermione has been getting worse. It's like he's feeding of her life. If he wakes up she won't die, but she might not wake up, ever. And we can't figure out what damned spell was used on her! Otherwise we'd wake her up!" Richard angrily sat himself down on Ginny's seat. "Those bastard Death Eaters had been experimenting with new dark spells since the first war. The worst thing is, we've seen this spell before, that's why it's so fuc- I shouldn't say that... that's why it's so complicated.
'This spell, whatever it's called, though we nicknamed it "Morte Aeterna" otherwise known as "Eternally Dead", is incredibly dangerous, it doesn't actually kill you, well in the end it does... What happens is as soon as the spell enters your system it shuts down. The one case where it's thought someone survived this, though no one knows how, they said they heard things, felt things crawling up their arms, they said they had terrible thoughts. Like they wanted to kill or hurt everyone around them... and in this case, with your brother, I think Hermione did exactly that, except the spell didn't work properly for some reason.
"None of the healers I've spoken to know what to do, so we're stuck at a crossroad. That's why Mr Potter has been trying to have an actual conversation with Mr Malfoy, correct?"
George nodded slowly. "Dunno something like that for sure."
Richard smiled at him.
"When is he going to wake up?" George asked.
Richard stood up and dusted his perfectly white cloak off. "Really, we have no idea. Somewhere between now and tomorrow is our best guess for Mr Weasley. The problem is getting Hermione through this," His frown and worry line became very pronounced and he turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks and turned around again, "Tell this to your parents too."
George nodded and listened to Richard's footsteps clicking out of existence.
_____
"Minister, please, I need to see him. He's Hermione's last chance! I talked to Healer Richard Ris today, he said that if we don't find out what spell was cast on her she will die and with this spell, you can't just take her of healing potions and healing spells and let her die naturally, it'll just drag the death out. They tested similar cases. In one of the tests they stabbed a woman who was going to die from this spell, they stabbed her through her heart, her heart,bloody hell! And she didn't die! She bled and screamed, but the wound healed! Without any consent from the healers! No potions! No spells! The spell healed her to continue torturing her! Please, Minister..., please?" Harry begged.
He was sitting in a beautifully furnished room with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current Minister for Magic. Dark mahogany finishes and gold inlays surrounded him, but they did not comfort him. Nor did the warm crackling fire.
"Please...," Harry said again, his head hung in defeat, though a shard of hope remained inside him.
Kingsley sighed. "Fine, you can meet him, but I'm telling you now, he isn't going to be able to tell you much."
Harry stood and shook his hand. "Thank you." He whispered fervently.
Kingsley sighed audibly and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "When you leave my office you need to go down the first corridor on the left and then into the fifth door on the right. Tell the man in there that you have been allowed to see Draco Malfoy and that you need to be taken there as soon as possible. It's urgent. Got that?"
Harry nodded and gave the minister a small smile, "Again, thank you."
Harry turned to leave but just before letting the door shut behind him with a small click he stopped in his tracks. "Oh and minister?" Kingsley looked up. "Good luck."
Kingsley scowled at him, though there was a small hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The door shut and Harry sped down the corridor.
-----
Azkaban prison is a distraught building in itself. The battered stone is constantly fighting a battle against the ocean, the high pitched winds that whistled through bars and cracks in the stone. The area was surrounded by what horribly smelled like rotting flesh. Harry resisted the strong urge to turn around and run. The place reminded him too much of Voldemort and the death that seemed to follow the inhumane man.
A neat man in his mid-forties was taking Harry further and further into Azkaban. They wound through corridors and Harry swore the temperature had dropped since he had been here. A thick mist came out of his mouth every time he breathed out and he quickened his footsteps to keep warm. The place was bringing back distraught thoughts to his mind already.
It was as if somebody had shut him up in a room all by himself for months on end and now his only friends were himself and the shadows. They seemed to grab at his jacket as if to pull him into a deeper sense of despair, lull him into a deep sleep and then make sure he never woke again. The air was so cold that when he breathed in his throat would scream in protest for a moment, then settle only... to have the process repeated... it was unnerving him in a way that was all to new for him. He shivered violently.
"Here," the man said, bringing Harry out of his cold trance like state of mind. "Good luck," he said and opened a barred metal door.
Harry stepped in and the door closed with a loud slam behind him. The room looked utterly deserted and for a moment Harry thought that some cruel trick was being played on him by the auror.
A puff of warm, misty air rose then dispersed.
Harry looked at the corner where it had come from and saw a frail blonde shivering under a mottled grey blanket that camouflaged him against the filthy stone walls that he was sleeping against.
Harry crept forward and knelt at Draco's knees. He was deeply asleep, though he seemed to be having a bad nightmare; it was the occasional twitches of his hands and face that told him so.
"Malfoy," Harry whispered, shaking Draco softly. The man was stone cold so Harry shrugged out of his jacket and covered him with it. "Oi, Malfoy," Harry said louder this time and Draco's eyes fluttered open in a painful looking manner.
A small look of disbelief hovered on Draco's face for a moment before it dissipated. "Potter...," he whispered in a relieved voice, "Thank Merlin. How's Hermione?"
Harry noted the use of Hermione's first name..., maybe the Weasley's didn't know how in depth this relationship was.
Draco moved into a crouching position and swayed violently before coughing loudly.
Harry swore he saw blood.
Draco stopped moving, "You don't know how to cure her, do you?" he asked softly.
Harry shook his head, "No one knows how to... Tell me what we have to do, and don't leave anything out."
Draco looked up at the moon. His face shone with a ghostly parlour. Harry only now saw all the cuts on his face and just like the Weasley's had said, they were in exactly the same place as Hermione's except Draco's were deeper, wider and leaked more crimson blood than Hermione's.
"I should start from the beginning...," Draco whispered.
Harry shook his head, "I already know, the Weasley's told me about the marriage, connection and pregnancy. I don't blame you. Now, tell me how to help Hermione."
Draco exhaled loudly, "The only reason she isn't dead right now is because of the connection we have between us and because we were touching when the spell hit us. If I wasn't there, she'd be dead."
Harry waited patiently while the blonde cleared his throat.
"What the spell does is once it enters your body it latches onto your heart in a way... the only way to get it out is-," Draco paused and just before he continued his sentence Harry completed it.
"-To perform surgery..." Harry whispered in a mortified voice, "But doesn't that mean you'll also have a gaping hole in your chest?" Harry asked.
"And?" Draco asked softly, "Just go to the healer and tell him, her, whatever what to do, okay? You need to use a silver knife. Go dammit! GO!" Draco yelled before coughing violently and spitting to the side of him, coughing up blood.
"Keep the jacket," Harry said before running out of the room.
-----
A small look of pain crossed his face then his eyes opened slowly. He let out a low moan and a healer ran up to him.
Ronald had woken up.
Authors Notes: Liked it? xDDD
I totally did! Who else did? Awesomeness... :D