AN: I'd like to thank York, Cookiepirateface, Keira-House M.D., and hukomuyo for their reviews of the last chapter. You guys rock!
Oh, bit of language in this chapter (well one word, really), but I thought I would warn you up front.
The occupants of the Hospital Wing experienced different reactions upon discovering the empty bed tucked neatly behind privacy curtains.
The best friends of the person who was suppose to be in the bed sent each other a weighted look, and with a nod of their heads, they took off to recover their wayward friend. A slight detour to the Gryffindor dormitories was the first and foremost thought in their minds.
The nurse who reigned dominion over the Wing went away muttering and grumbling about stubborn lions that constantly refuse to heed her good advice and stay in bed until told differently.
The Headmaster's normally twinkling eyes dimmed and the Deputy Headmistress's lips pursed as they silently left the room with the knowledge that the missing teenager would not be recovered for some time.
As the room cleared, no one noticed the disillusioned figure lurking in the shadows with calculating eyes.
The two friends surveyed the map to discern the location of the missing hospital patient. Ron scowled in disbelief when he finally spotted her name. "The library," he cried incredulously. "What is she doing there? Studying? She should know better than to leave before she is properly healed."
Harry ran a hand wearily through his messy locks and shrugged helplessly. He had a feeling he knew why Hermione prematurely released herself from the Hospital Wing and went straight to the library.
That reason would be Harry's big mouth.
When his emotional breakdown finally reached an end, Harry unloaded more devastating news on Hermione.
He was predestined to die.
…Neither can live while the other survives…
To say that Hermione did not take the prophecy well was an understatement. She laughed for a solid ten minutes upon the announcement that the self-declared, most powerful dark wizard ever based the future of his bigoted reign on the preposterous predictions of a sherry-chugging delusional dingbat. Harry knew Hermione did not like Trelawney but her imitation of his divination teacher at the end of her rant put to rest any lingering doubt he may have inadvertently been holding on to.
The one thing he was positive about was that Hermione's eyes took a certain gleam after he revealed that Dumbledore had known about the prophecy all along and decided to finally inform Harry in the wake of yet another personal tragedy. Harry had recognized that look then in the Hospital Wing but refused to admit that Hermione would do anything to jeopardize her recovery.
He had been wrong.
The proof was sitting right in front of him at her normal table tucked in the back of her sanctuary. Merlin, she looked like an escaped mental patient.
Sitting all by herself lost in her books was Hermione in her hospital gown and robe. The nonsensical mumbling only added to the frazzled image she conveyed. Gone was the well organized and starched Prefect. In her place was a girl lost in a sea of thick tomes that she barely had the strength to lift. Her hair, though tamed and shorter after the summer's escapades, was strangling a pencil in its bound confines atop her head. Her face, naturally tinted with a bronzy glow, appeared washed-out and weary. Harry knew she wasn't sleeping well yet the potions Pomfrey had her on kept her in a perpetual state of fatigue. Something in the hunch of her shoulders spoke of a determination that bordered on desperation. Her desire to right all of the perceived wrongs of the world stood visible in the tilt of her head and the draw of her mouth. Her cupid's bow lips that normally inhabited a serene smile while reading were gnawed to the point of bleeding. The most changed however was her eyes. The chocolate pools that always held such intellect and confidence were dimmed and haunted. The laughter was missing as if sucked from her very being the moment Sirius went through the veil.
All-in-all, she looked an absolute wreck.
Running a hand through his messy black hair, Harry nodded to Ron.
His studious friend was so lost in her thoughts and frantic search that she never noticed the approach of the remaining two-thirds of their trio or the confused stares from her classmates due to her appearance.
It had finally happened.
She couldn't believe that it had finally happened.
The library, her sanctuary, the place that yielded all the answers she sought had come up empty.
She could find nothing that she could use.
Nothing!
How was that even possible? Wasn't the primary function of a library to impart knowledge? It can't impart if there is no knowledge on the subject to begin with.
The library failed at its job to provide Hermione with the information she sought.
Ahh!
Hermione despondently dropped her head onto her work table only to instantly shoot back up when she felt a stab of pain in her abdomen. Great, she thought, I think I pulled a stitch, again.
Madam Pomfrey worked miracles with accidental mishaps from students' spell backfires and potion blowups but a simple knife injure had to heal mostly on its own, or so she claimed. She could re-grow the bones in a twelve-year old's arm but a stab wound took weeks of pain potions and stitches.
Where was the fairness in that?
The Gods of Justice and Equality for Inflicted Wounds were apparently on vacation, Hermione finally decided as she turned back to her research only to slam the book closed when it dared to continue to not yield any useable facts. Or the gods hated her like the library seemed too.
Merlin, she was tired.
Hermione rubbed her eyes in a hope to stifle off the oncoming tension headache she could feel building in her brow.
The words before her though useless had blurred to the point of unrecognizability. Maybe leaving the Hospital Wing had been a mistake after all. How was she supposed to help Harry if she could barely keep her eyes open? She felt bone weary and disconnected. The pain potions left her in a hazy, unable to concentrate for long periods until they started to wane.
She had escaped the ever watchful eyes of Madam Pomfrey before she could give her today's dose of the putrid-flavored brew. Sometimes she thought the potions were purposely foul as punishment for getting injured in the first place. The taste would linger for hours upon Hermione's tongue despite her constant consumption of the pieces of Hogsmeade fudge Ron continually snuck in to her. She preferred the pain to that horrid concoction Pomfrey insists on jamming down her throat every four hours.
Pushing the hair that had escaped from her loose bun out of her face, Hermione squared her resolve. She was just going to have to go to the source its self, she decided.
It would be tricky, but with the proper planning and the right connections, she just might be able to get an audience with the only people who could help.
Loosing herself once again in her thoughts, Hermione missed the determined expression upon the face of a certain redhead too late to prevent the upcoming disaster.
Ron thundered towards his swotty friend and without any sense of self-preservation grabbed Hermione's shoulder.
His endeavor resulted in him receiving a wand in the face; a wand that had a glowing tip.
Harry used his seeker reflexes to yank Hermione's wand hand up as the spell released. A jet of red shot over the Arithmancy shelves and collided with the wall right beside Madam Pince's head. The pinch-faced Librarian shot up from her desk and pointed menacingly at the trio and then at the library doors. Her message was received loud and clear.
Harry spelled Hermione's books back to their rightful shelves. He didn't need Madam Pince black listing them for the offense of leaving her precious books just lying around after a perceived assassination attempt.
Ron grabbed Hermione's bag and her arm so he could literally drag her out of there. No sense in staying where they weren't wanted.
In their rush to leave, none of the trio recognized the magnitude of what just transpired. Hermione not only reacted on instinct but cast a nonverbal spell unconsciously.
Once the trio made it into the hall, Hermione jerked her arm out of Ron's grasp. "What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" Ron looked to Harry in disbelief. "Bloody hell, you almost stunned me!"
"You grabbed my arm," said Hermione. Her tone indicated that she found that a sound reason for almost jinxing her friend.
"You didn't even look before firing," continued Ron.
Harry could tell Ron was not letting this go any time soon. He cut in before Hermione could retort and redirected the conversation to the reason they came to the library in the first place. "Why did you leave without permission?"
"Leave where?" asked Hermione innocently, as she began to walk in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.
"Hermione."
The way Harry said her name, concerned with a twinge of desperation, made her stop in her tracks with her back remaining to him.
"You're bleeding."
"Fuck," Hermione mumbled, just loud enough for the other two to hear her. She couldn't resist rolling her eyes heavenward in silent aggravation. So not fair.
"Harry…did she…did you…?" stumbled Ron.
"Ron, are you sure they fixed you completely after the Brain Room incident? You do not seem to have a full grasp on the Queen's English."
"No need to be mean, Hermione," said Ron sullenly.
"It's only mean if it's untrue, Weaselbee," sneered a voice from the shadows.
Emerging from around the corner was Malfoy and his bumbling brutes of an entourage. The normally haughty smirk of Malfoy's ferret-face was surprisingly absent. His features seemed more drawn and sharp today.
Absently, Hermione wondered if that had something to do with his father's imprisonment and the public embarrassment of his family name now their connection to Voldemort was revealed sans more Imperius claims.
Hermione shrugged. She didn't really care. The bastard got what was coming to him in her opinion. Throwing curses at children for Merlin's sake.
Truthfully, Lord Malfoy was probably safer in Azkaban. He lost the orb Voldemort coveted so much. And after the diary debacle, he could not have endeared himself any more into his Dark Lord's good graces. He would probably be dead now, she mused. They actually did the bigot a services by locking him up.
The image of an unkempt Malfoy thanking them for imprisoning him brought a smile to Hermione's face until she looked back towards her friends.
Both Harry and Ron had pulled their wands. Luckily they still had them at their sides but at the slightest provocations spells would be flying. She did not need this now, damn it. She was bleeding and in need of medical assistance that was preferably not Madam Pomfrey. That woman would ward her bed to prevent further escape attempts if she went back there.
Her day just kept getting better and better. She typically didn't feel quite satisfied with her day anymore until she verbally emasculated Malfoy, but she was not in the mood right now to play mediator. Best to defuse the situation, and if the tremble of Harry's wand was any indication, it needed to be fast.
Undaunted by the interruption, Hermione continued on her path as she said, "Take your childish drama elsewhere Malfoy. We are in a hurry…"
"Granger, you're bleeding." The astonishment in Malfoy's voice momentarily startled her. Why would her ability to bleed shock him?
Shaking her head, she continued, "Like I was saying, we are in a rush to get to…"
"To the Hospital Wing," cut in Harry, directing his remark to Hermione.
She glared at him for a moment before giving a resigned sigh at the determined edge in his emerald eyes. "To the Hospital Wing," she conceded.
Hermione couldn't help but think as she walked away that for the first year since entering the Magical world she was actually looking forward to summer. She really could use a break from academia before she got killed or driven insane. She didn't want her Head Girl opportunities to be ripped from her because of hotheads and their inability to keep their mouths shut and their wands hidden.
Hopefully, she could get home without further incident, Hermione mused, as she felt Harry's hands on her shoulders so he could turn her around and escort her back to the Hospital Wing.
As they walked down the hall and away from the baffled Slytherins, she couldn't help but hum "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" to herself.
With a bit of luck, things would be better after a few weeks of rest.
If only she knew that now the Dark Lord had made his presence known once again the Magical world would be rocked to its foundation, she might have decided transferring was a better option to staying in a war zone.
Ignorance is bliss and all that after all. She would learn before the summer was out however that no one is safe from evil. Not even the Muggle world.
That is it for this chapter. Hope you liked it.
I have a quick inquiry guys.
How are we feeling about Draco?
I haven't decided how I want to work his task in the sixth book. As of right now, it does not affect the plot I have in mind because the Death Eaters are going to need to attack Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, but the circumstances might change. My question pertains more to possible redemption/spy capabilities for the bouncing ferret.
Let me know.
Next chapter: Introduction to the mysterious Grangers that are forever mentioned yet never heard.
Review?