Title:
Author: khaoskit
Rating: M
Warnings: Twisted plotlines. Beware.
Summary: My longest HP fic ever, the most thought out and planned for, and by far the only gift fic I have ever crafted. Enjoy,
Janne Pederson. You Denmarkanese pastry woman, you.
Pairings: Fleur Hermione/Ginny & Gabriella & Cho
Prologue
Gradually, she came around. Her body lay adjacent with the floor, bushy brown hair wreathed around her head which she dully noted was aching horribly. With a soft grimace of displeasure twisting her features, Hermione very carefully pulled herself up into a sitting position and watched the different swirls of colors ghost before her glazed eyes.
"Moonstones fox-trotting across cockroach clusters in Honeyduke's basement..." the witch murmured, holding her two sizes too large head, not noting the sticky red substance which suddenly coated the pads of her fingers. Slowly, she rose. Even more slow did she lumber down the darkened corridor amidst the less than silent whispers of the portraits hanging upon the walls.
"Poor dear..." one wizened lady murmured, eyes trained sympathetically upon Hermione's retreating form. "Do you think she'll remember what happened?" Off to the side in a gilded frame sat a giant of a wizard. The gruff old man took a large pull off his tankard, beer pouring down upon his sopping wet beard. He took a massive paw and wiped away the excess as best he could before growling out disgustedly, "Fo' that bonnie lass's sake, Ah sure as bloody hell hope not."
The muffled conversation disappeared as the girl herself slipped away and around a stone corner. Drained and exhausted, Hermione's dissipating vision would not hold out for much longer. Straining fingertips brushed against a cool brass doorknob that invaded her line of weakening sight and as she pressed all of her leaden weight against the ancient wood did it quickly open. Quite generously.
The Gryffindor staggered through the archway and accidentally slammed into a desk, her body collapsing over the creaking structure which noisily voiced its protest. But during those last few steps, right as she was on the precipice of colliding with the main torture device of all fidgety students, a thought crossed her mind. A rather amusing one at that.
'Whenever did Peeves start oiling the door hinges as part of his mischievous pranks...?'
The room around her was already dark, but grew darker with every passing second. Already the ache of running into the desk was spreading throughout her upper thighs. Hermione's eyelids grew heaver and heavier, someone's fingertips pressing into the backs of her eyes, making her want to close them all the more.
Right before the witch slipped off to a world devoid of dreams though did a bright flare appear by her face. Squinting, and letting slip what could nearly be called an almost whimper of pain, she tried to decipher who or what it was that was putting off such a glaring brilliance. Logically, her mind gave her a sound enough reason. The last thought Hermione murmured before two depthless amber brown eyes closed to the world was, "It's only a ghost...I must have alarmed the poor...thing..."
Silence once more enveloped the room until a shadow began to move from somewhere near the hulking form of the teacher's desk. It heaved a weary sigh and was now standing besides the unconscious girl. It ran a cool hand over the witch's perspiring forehead and into her wild disheveled hair. The sunburst of light which had burst through the darkness was dancing on the end of a wand tip, loosely held by delicate pale fingers. Luminous silvery hair that was almost white, shining like liquid ice, brushed over those fingers right as the figure bent down to observe her new student. Pale artic blue eyes watched the girl with a very uneasiness dancing within the slim darker shade of midnight blue which encircled her pupil.
"What iz...?"
The professor leisurely pulled her hand back, enjoying the soft feel of curls beneath her fingertips even though she was still concerned about why the girl had stumbled in and keeled over across one of her desks. Her widening alarmed eyes were greeted with a candy apple coating of red shimmering upon milk white skin in the bright light.
The wand dropped. Darkness rushed in upon the scene, enveloping every detail, hiding all that was visible to the naked eye. Hurried and anxious breathing blanketed the hush of a Hogwarts night. Only a few whispered words were heard in the suddenly oppressive classroom.
"Mon dieu...Hermione..."