DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter!
Written for a Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Practice Round
Team: Kenmare Kestrels
Position: Seeker
Prompt: Mystery
AN: Enjoy this fanfic and please review!
Harry and Ginny walked slowly, heads bent down, hair disheveled. They held each other's hand tightly, trying to comfort each other. Their eyes were red and puffy from crying. Ron followed them, looking stricken and stunned as if he still couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that they had lost her, lost their best friend.
Hermione Granger, the bookworm of the Golden Trio, had been taken from them. She was gone, and there was no coming back. They still remembered it, fresh and clear in their minds.
They were surrounded by twenty or more Death Eaters. She had her wand out and was dueling furiously, as were Harry and Ron. They stood in the center, backs pressed against each other, as they fought for their lives.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix shrieked. A red light zoomed past, barely missing Hermione.
"Stupefy!" Hermione shot back. Bellatrix dodged it with practiced ease. Hermione looked around and knew they were outnumbered.
"Harry, when's the Order arriving?" Ron demanded after firing a Confringo at Dolohov. He was successful, and Dolohov was blasted away.
"I don't know, mate, but we've got to keep fighting. Expelliarmus!" Harry replied, panting. His lip was cut and bleeding. Hermione had a nasty bruise on her wrist that was rapidly turning purple. Ron's leg was bleeding from a long, shallow cut.
"Harry! Ron! We're outnumbered; there's too many!" Hermione shouted. She grabbed ahold of them and tried to Apparate, but found that they had cast an Anti-Apparation ward. She pushed them to the nearest fireplace after casting a strong Protego quickly. "Go, quick! It's won't last long. I'll be there soon."
"Wait, Hermione, what do you-" Harry was cut off as he and Ron were shoved into the fireplace. Green fire engulfed them, and they appeared at Hogwarts, in Dumbledore's office.
Hermione smiled grimly. She was ready. She thought of Harry and Ron, laughing and grinning at her, all the good memories they had, everything they had been through.
"Has the wittle Mudblood given up?" Bellatrix cackled. Hermione raised her wand in one final movement.
Slashing her wand down, she yelled her last words. "Ego immolo propter bonum!" I sacrifice myself for the sake of good. Hermione slowly turned into a large ray of golden light. Suddenly, the pulsing light exploded in all directions, wiping out the Death Eaters. The light gradually returned to form Hermione once again. She lay there, seemingly lifeless, waiting to be found.
The funeral had passed slowly and excruciatingly. The grounds of Hogwarts were filled with wails and sobs. Harry, Ginny, and Ron had returned to Grimmauld Place right after; they couldn't stand to see Hermione's grave.
"Harry. I - I can't bel- believe she's go-gone," Ginny cried softly into his shoulder. Harry smiled sadly.
"Neither can I, Ginny," he whispered. His mind was elsewhere, though. Why had Draco Malfoy been at Hermione's funeral? He had noticed in the days before that Hermione had spoke of Malfoy in almost loving words. It had been quite peculiar.
"Ron. Do you remember, you know, how Mione talked about Malfoy those last few days?" Harry asked him.
"Yeah. She almost sounded like she was friends with him." The last part came out in a disbelieving whisper.
"I want to talk to Malfoy," Harry announced. Ginny gazed at him in surprise.
"What do you want to talk to that ferret for?" she asked.
"He might know something whether we like it or not," he answered grimly. Striding to the fireplace, he threw in a handful of white Floo powder and yelled, "Malfoy Manor!"
"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy greeted him coldly, jumping up from the couch.
"You were at Hermione's funeral, Malfoy. Why?" Harry demanded bluntly. Malfoy's gray eyes fell, shining through with grief.
"I had every right to be there, Potter," he murmured.
"Every right?" Harry spat. "You bullied Mione and teased. You never missed a chance to hurt her. And you say you had every right to be there? You ferret-minded scoundrel!"
"You don't know the whole story, Scarhead!" Malfoy snarled back.
'Calm down, Harry. You're doing this for Hermione.' "Then what is the real story, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sighed. "It was after I joined the Order. Hermione was assigned to keep an eye on me, and thing sort of took off from there."
"What do you mean?" Harry inquired curiously. He had an inkling at what Malfoy was getting to, but it seemed so unlikely.
"Well, I got to know her, she got to know me, and we fell in love. Then she went and died," Draco explained bitterly.
"Do you know how she died?"
"Of course not, I wasn't there, Potter!"
"Yes, but you might know what she was planning to do."
"I'm telling you, Potter, I have no bloody idea what idiotic thing she was going to do!"
"I'll tell Kingsley we'll have to look at- at the bo-body," Harry said, his voice wavering.
"What? She wasn't buried?!" Draco exclaimed in surprise and anger. "You have no right to conduct any research on my Mione, Golden Boy!"
"Ferret, I don't want this any more than you do. But we need to find out what exactly she did."
"You're hiding something from me, aren't you, Potter? You'd never let them touch Hermione," Draco suddenly murmured, silver eyes narrowed. Harry bit his lip nervously. Kingsley had told him not tell anyone; he didn't want to get their hopes up.
"Hermione- Hermione's not dead. She's in a coma," he admitted in a whisper. Draco looked stunned.
"Does anyone else know?" he whispered.
"No. Only you, me, and Kingsley."
"But why? Why are they hiding it?"
"The Minister doesn't want to get anyone's hopes up."
"Well, Shackebolt's an idiot. Even the Weaslette and Weasel don't know?" Harry nodded.
"They still think she's dead."
"I want to see Hermione," Draco announced. Harry grinned softly at him.
"Well, I supposed you would, but you'll have to wait till tomorrow. She's in St. Mungo'ss, getting settled." Draco puffed out his cheeks and blew out slowly in frustration. I'm coming for you, Mione. I'm coming.
The next day, Draco rushed into St. Mungo's. "Hermione Granger. Fourth floor, Spell Damage."
The assistant's eyebrows raised. "There isn't any Hermione Granger here, sir."
"She's in the special cases room. In a coma."
"Just a second, please. I'll have to check with the Healers." She waved her wand, saying, "Expecto Patronum!" A playful hare appeared. "Healer Mywerk. Draco Malfoy is requesting to visit Hermione Granger. Permission required." The hare sprang away to deliver the message.
A few moments later, a dolphin swam into view. "Permission is given." The assistant nodded at Draco.
"You can go on up now." Draco ran up the stairs quickly. He burst through the doors to find Harry and a woman - he presumed that this was Healer Mywerk - talking urgently. The Healer turned to look at him.
"Mr. Malfoy. Right this way," she greeted pleasantly. Draco acknowledged her with a curt nod and followed her to the room.
Hermione lay on a white bed, eyes closed peacefully. Her chest rose ever so slightly with every breath. Her chestnut hair was spread out around her head like a pillow. Draco walked to her bedside and reached out to touch her hand. It was cold and clammy.
"Hermione, what did you do to yourself?" he asked softly. "Have you made any progress?" he inquired, turning to face the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry shook his head.
"Nothing's changed."
"Why don't you check her notebooks, her purse, something like that?"
"I don't feel comfortable invading her privacy like that," Harry answered shortly.
"She gave me her journal before the fight," Draco admitted. Harry's emerald green eyes blinked in astonishment.
"What? Do you still have it?" He nodded in response.
"I haven't looked at it yet, though."
"Well, we'll look through that then," Harry suggested brightly. Draco smirked.
"Weren't you the one refusing to 'invade her privacy'?" he mocked. Harry turned red.
"Anything to help my Mione," he stuttered. Draco grinned at him. They had actually agreed on something.
They had spent hours pouring over her notes and hadn't found anything important yet. Well, they couldn't exactly say that; the book was filled with precious spells, jinxes, hexes, and more. They had reached the last few pages.
This might be my last entry. Harry, Ron, and I are being sent to fight in a raid. I'm worried. Kingsley said that the area had been overflowing with Death Eaters. What if we get ambushed? For this reason, I searched around for a special spell. I found an intriguing one; it allows the caster to sacrifice themselves in a dire situation. If things get too bad, I might use it.
E o i molo p opt r on m
A complex wand motion was shown below. The incantation was blurred at some parts, leaving it unable to discern completely. Draco and Harry exchanged glances filled with confusion.
"She was going to sacrifice herself." Harry let out a heavy breath.
"Why? How could she have done this?"
"She was scared. We have to find the counter-spell."
"But how will we, if we don't even know the proper incantation?"
"I know a person quite knowledgeable on sacrificial spells. We could talk to him," Draco offered.
"I suppose we could do that, Malfoy," Harry accepted.
"Draco," he corrected.
"What?" Harry said in surprise.
"It's Draco. If we're going to be working together, we might as well get on a first name basis."
"Ok, Draco." Harry Side-Along Apparated with Draco, seeing as he didn't know where to go. Draco knocked on the door briskly.
An old, wrinkled man opened the door, a smile on his face when he saw Draco. "Ah, Draco. Pleasure to see you! Who's this young man you've brought with you?" he wheezed.
"I'm Harry Potter, sir." The man's eyes widened.
"Bless my soul, Harry Potter! It's an honor to meet you! Come in, come in!" He ushered them inside and seated them on the couch.
"I'm Edgar Trutord, specializing in sacrificial spells."
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Harry said.
"Now, what brings you here, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy?"
"You see, it's very confidential information. Hermione Granger used some sort of a sacrificial spell to take out all the Death Eaters at a recent raid. She's in a coma now," Draco explained.
"Let me see the spell." Draco handed the journal to him, leaving it open to the page with the incantation. Mr. Trutord studied it carefully, and after a few minutes, he looked up.
"From what I can tell, the full spell is 'Ego immolo propter bonum'. The user will be sent into a coma."
"Do you know the counter-spell?" Harry asked urgently, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"Well, yes. It's somewhere in one of my notes. I'll be right back." He rose and ambled away.
"Harry Potter! Where are you?!" A voice jumped out at them. Harry groaned. A horse - Ginny's Patronus - cantered in front of them, snorting furiously.
"I forgot to tell Ginny I would be gone," he moaned. He sent her a brief Patronus, saying that he was busy and wouldn't be back for a while.
"Fiery temper, that one, eh?" Draco laughed.
"Yeah. She's exactly like her mother, I tell you!" They stopped chuckling when Mr. Trutord returned, an old book that seemed ready to fall apart in his hand.
"Ah, here it is. 'Ego immolo propter bonum, otherwise known Sacrificium Bonum, has only one counter-spell. While the spell is chanted, the user, a true lover of the affected, must hold the hand of the affected. Their wand tip must be resting where their hands join.
Hoc sacrificium est completum ad finem," he read aloud. Scribbling down the spell on a piece of paper, he handed it to them.
"I hope this will help. Hermione Granger's death would be a great loss to our society."
"Thank you, Mr. Trutord. I'm sure this will prove useful," Harry said, rising along with Draco.
They left the house in excitement. "I trust that you're going to do the spell, Draco?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow. Draco bit his bottom lip anxiously.
"I'm not sure. What if I'm not her true love?"
"I'm sure you are. I can see how much you care for her."
"Fine, I'll try. But if it doesn't work…" he trailed off.
"We'll find a way," Harry said confidently. They Apparated to St. Mungo's and flew up the stairs to Hermione's room.
Hermione still lay on the bed, sleeping. "There's been no changes," the Healer reported.
"We're going to cast a spell. It should reverse the spell she cast on herself," Harry confided.
"Mr. Potter, I must warn you, doing unknown spells could only harm her more," Healer Mywerk precautioned.
"We are aware of the dangers, but we must do what we can," Draco answered crudely.
"Very well, Do what you can. Call for me if anything goes wrong." With that, she left, robes billowing behind her.
"Ready?" Harry asked Draco, gazing at him.
"Ready," Draco replied, giving him a quivering nod. He strode to Hermione bedside and kneeled on the floor, taking her frigid hand in his. Pulling out his wand, he rested the tip of the hawkthorn wand at their joint. He exchanged a nervous, but excited glance with Harry, then turned back to Hermione, gazing at her pale, lifeless face.
"Hoc sacrificium est completum ad finem," he murmured hope rising up in him like a newly sparked flame. White-gold sparks flew from his wand.
Hermione blinked her caramel brown eyes. She opened her dry lips to speak. "Draco?"
"Hermione! Oh, Hermione!" Draco exclaimed blissfully.
"Mione! You're safe!" Harry cried, rushing to her. Draco kissed her frantically and passionately.
"Don't ever do that again," he whispered through the kiss. She smiled.
Hermione was back, and here to stay.
