Twenty Sinful Nights with Draco Malfoy: PART SEVEN
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"Hermione, what is it we're looking for?" Ginny finally asked, tired of walking into the darkness, pretending she didn't see the glowing eyes behind bushes and leaves.
"A portkey."
"In the Dark Woods?"
"I can see it in the distance. This path is clear. They smell the essence. They will not come near."
It didn't comfort Ginny. She took a final look back and sighed. She hated being dragged into this. She hated not having told Harry and Ron. She hated never saying goodbye. And she hated Hermione for turning their world upside down.
"Do you even know to where it leads?"
"No, but as long as it's anywhere but here, we'll be fine."
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm desperate here, Ginny," she said, sending a tree trunk that was lying in their path flying high over the woods. Ginny followed it with her eyes and stopped to wait for the crash in the distance. It splashed when it hit the lake. It scared the wits out of her. Hermione was far away. She ran to catch up, never once thinking to turn back.
"You think Lucius has done something to him? Is that why we're going to Azkaban?" Ginny asked, trying to keep her talking. It comforted her more than Hermione.
"I dunno," Hermione said, wiping the blood flowing from her nose on the back of her hand. She didn't even notice she was bleeding. Ginny handed her her white handkerchief. She didn't understand so Ginny gestured under her own nose and handed it to her. Hermione wiped off the blood and looked at the handkerchief. She finally stopped walking and stared at the blood. She absentmindedly thanked her and kept the stained cloth in her tight grip, mainly as a reminder. It took a bit for her to realize her mortality. It didn't deter her though.
They got to a point where Hermione became lost. They had not strayed from the path. The path just stopped.
"Are we there? Where's the portkey?" Ginny asked, watching her stare at the night sky, circling in a spot, slightly desperate.
"Yes, we're here. But I can't find it."
"I thought it was bright to you or something."
"It is. But look," she said, gesturing upward at the starry sky. "They're all bright."
She was right. Every star in the distance was bright, abnormally so. It was almost as if they were close enough to touch. That's when realization sparked in Hermione. She extended her arm up to the sky and tried to grab one, her feet lifting off the ground as if sensing her notion.
She floated high above Ginny's head. She stared up, trying to see what Hermione saw. She knew it wasn't the same but at some point, she was almost positive as star had removed itself from the dark sky and drifted down to Hermione's open hand like a snitch to a seeker. She tried not to think of Harry but everything reminded her of him.
Hermione started to lower down to the ground with the star floating just over her open palm. She looked at Ginny with bright, determined eyes, and commanded her, "We go on three… One. Two… Three."
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Draco had seen many seers before but never a child. This one, like all the others he'd seen, was used for information. She was a slave to a neutral side, which was slightly nobler he supposed. She couldn't have been more than 10 and had short blonde hair like it'd been cut off with a knife because parts were on fire. Draco wasn't sure where that door had led but there was no way this seer was from Hong Kong.
"Ask her," Om-ree ordered, as if he were one of her men. He knew he was immune of her charms, because of his blood, but he felt compelled to do so anyway.
He sat down on the large pillow in front of her. The girl sat staring forward, just over his head, on a large alter-like platform. She was so creepy that it was even a little bit funny. Then he saw she wasn't concentrating or meditating. She was blind. Her irises were white but he knew they had once been blue.
"What's your name?" he asked. Om-ree rolled her eyes.
"That's not what you want to know," the girl said. There was very little of a girl left in there, just a shell. Sight was very damaging to someone like her, a prisoner.
"If you know what I need to know, why don't you just tell me?" he replied, trying to sound as sweet and calm as he could. He felt great pity for her.
"I know what you need, don't need, and want. There's a big difference. I cannot reveal what you must not know yet."
"So you can only answer my questions, no?"
"Yes. Thus we are absolved of blame."
He raised an eyebrow. "Damn. So I could ask you who'll win the next Wizard Cup and you--"
"Malfoy, be serious!" Om-ree yelled, her arms crossed behind him. He smiled. The girl smiled too, which made him wonder whether or not she was really blind. Seers saw past and future, not present.
"Please…" he said softly. "Tell me what you see. Will I make it back to Hermione, to Hogwarts?"
She smiled more. "Is that what you're worried about?"
"No… What is my role in this war?" he asked seriously.
"You're afraid you have no side. You're afraid of getting caught in the middle?"
He nodded.
"Don't worry, Draco. You're not going to end this war. Hell, you're not even going to start it. If you think it's bad now, I pray you never meet your true self."
"Whoa… my true self? What the hell's that?"
"It's nothing for you to worry about. Not yet. It will flourish in you, from your hate. It cannot be called by gender or name. It is a part of you, a part that you were meant to play from birth. The only way to stop this…" she said, then tilted her head as if trying to find another angle to him. "To kill a tree, kill it from the inside. Tear out the roots and it dies."
"My father?"
"He will die. But it will not be up to you. Your mother will be fine. She will not mourn, as I'm sure you know. Now do you want the answer to your first question?"
He smiled, a little more relieved that his father's death would not be by his hand and his mother would be fine. But Hermione. "Will I see her again?"
"You will see her before this tree. She will kill it for you. She knows loyalty you do not. She knows the truth of your bond in her mind, and has taken great steps to keep it from herself."
"I don't want her to. I've involved her too much."
"You're worried she's becoming like you?"
"Can you tell?"
The girl then did something that scared him so much, he would have crawled to leave the tent. She looked at him. Not at the void over his head. She looked straight at him and smiled.
"Every girl dreams of romance, Draco. Of course I can tell. If – If you survive the fall, bring her before me. There's something she has to know. Only she can understand. Please," she said, talking as if she saw him clear as day. Then she got serious again and returned to staring at her spot of emptiness.
He stood up and realized Om-ree had gone. He looked down at his watch. It'd taken longer than he thought. He looked at the door, then back at her. "I'll come back. I promise."
"I can't see that," she replied, shedding a tear. "Promises mean nothing to us. You'll come back, yes. You'll survive Hogwarts and you'll see your girl. But promise you'll come back as one. If the fall breaks you in two, kill the evil one. If it breaks you in three, sew yourself back together. Promise yourself that!"
He knew there was no way he would ever understand her till he was before these great obstacles. For all he knew, he'd have to use real yarn to sew himself back together. He took whatever comfort he could.
He walked towards her, kissed her on the forehead, and headed out into the sun. It never shut off there, even underwater. He took comfort in that too, the eternal light. It reminded him of Hermione.
And then it hit him, Om-ree's worry. He ran back inside and asked her, breathlessly, "Is she my mate?"
She didn't answer. She was already gone, if she was ever really there.
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Harry and Ron returned to Hogwarts empty-handed. They hadn't been able to find her, but at least they knew from Hagrid, who had seen her and Ginny go into the woods, that she was not alone. He hadn't told them about the Essence. He didn't tell Dumbledore, though he was already aware, in that special way Dumbledore always knows.
Neville came running down the halls, through the hurried crowds. Ron stopped him easily, being so much taller. They waited till he caught his breath.
"They're sick!" he yelled. "Hurry!"
He led them to the infirmary in the other direction. The moment they opened the door, they felt it… the pestilence in the air. It wasn't the illness itself. It was not airborne. It was the curse that had befallen upon the castle. It had never been so strong.
"What's wrong with them?" Harry asked Madame Pomfrey who looked frayed and overworked.
"I don't know," she responded, staring at the endless rows of sick children. "It's like they haven't any energy left. It's just been… sucked out of them."
Harry thought he saw her shed a tear but it could have been his imagination.
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"You look amazing," he told her in his dreams. She was wearing a long blue dress, midnight blue, that hugged her shoulders weightlessly and showed her neckline. It enticed him but kept him at a distance. He could never disturb such an image. It wasn't the real her but it would do.
He stood in the dark abyss with one hand on her waist, the other caressing her hair. It was not as fluffy and untamed as usual. It flowed gracefully in the unseen, unfeeling wind. Her skin seemed pale but no more than his own.
"I'm not real, darling," she answered, though her voice seemed distance.
"You're real enough."
"You've given up on her, then. She's still out there Draco. She's awake, looking for you."
He gasped like something cold had suddenly overtaken him. "We're not alone," he whispered. "They're faceless. They're everywhere."
"It's just shadows, Draco," she said sweetly.
He gasped again, so sharply that when he opened his eyes, he was awake. But the feeling was still there. The empty faces, staring him down with eyes full of blame.
"You dreamt of her?" Om-ree asked. She'd been working on the desk in the room, writing a letter with great enthusiasm. He looked around. It was her room. A gray owl sat on her shoulder, reading as she wrote. He looked at the cage in the far, dark corner. It was still covered by a gray sheet. It wasn't for the owl.
He stood from the bed and walked to the cage. She saw him move in the corner of her eye but did nothing. She supposed it was time.
He stared at it before slowly lifting the gray sheet…
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Hermione closed her eyes and held onto Ginny's hand but all she could hear were her screams in the far distance.
"Hold on!" she yelled. "Just hold on, Gin!"
But her screams faded into the background. At one point, it all went quiet. She could hear Ginny's heavy breathing but the world went quiet. She opened her eyes and found the forest gone.
Ginny was shivering before her, her eyes closed shut and covered in cold water from head to toe. The air smelled of broken dreams. They were in the middle of a dusty room, old as time. Hermione prayed they were far from Hogwarts.
She let go of Ginny and ran to the old wooden door, pulled it from its hinges, and running outside. As soon as she heard that soothing sound of morning, of birds and… life, she began to laugh. She could see her breath in the cold air but she didn't care.
Ginny ran up behind her. "Where are we?" she asked.
"I have no clue. Isn't it marvelous?"
"Hermione, we just popped up in the middle of a shack in the middle of nowhere. You damn well better have SOME idea of where the hell we're going!"
"Look there," Hermione pointed across the lush grass onto a small town below the cliff. "What do you say we stop off for a bit of rest?"
"Rest?"
"It's about time I did a bit of dreaming... and about time you had a bath."
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The illness was spreading at Hogwarts, if one could even call it an illness. It had no symptoms. Students just collapsed, after hours of drained energy. Some went to sleep and never woke up. One boy fell asleep in the astronomy tower with his girlfriend. Another girl in Hufflepuff crashed on her broom. Some suffered class and potion related injuries. Dean lay in a bed in the hospital wing, his eyebrows once again singed off.
Harry and Ron came back to the ward as often as they could, during dinners and between classes. Something drew them to it.
"It's like they're waiting for something," Ron said, his fist under his chin, sitting forward in a chair beside Dean's bed.
"Well that's… awfully deep."
He rested back in the chair, sliding down. "I dunno. Maybe I'm trying to compensate for Hermione's--"
Harry smirked. "No. You just miss her."
"She's been gone for a while," he said, staring at the ceiling with an inquisitive look upon his face. Harry noticed he was looking quite older, though not all too wiser. "Was she ever really here?"
"Ugh. You're the most depressing sort of Hallmark card, do you know?" Harry joked. "You're the kind that's always stacked in a dark corner in the back of the store, past the good porn and the diapers."
"What the bloody hell's a Hallmark?"
"I don't know Ron. I just don't know," he said, about to get up when he noticed Ron slide down the edge of the chair, onto his knees, and face first on the cold floor. Harry looked up at Pomfrey who saw his petrified face and said, "Madame, I think we're going to need another bed."
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Draco let the gray sheet fall to floor. "What is this?" he asked. Om-ree didn't turn around. He asked it again, louder.
"It's a phoenix. Can't you tell?" she replied.
Draco looked at the sickly little thing. "This is not a phoenix. What's happened to it? Is it sick?"
She smiled. "Lovesick, maybe. Though she'll never admit it."
"How do you know Dumbledore, Om-ree?" She turned around slowly. He asked it again. He always had to ask her twice. The cold silence was not enough to break her.
"Once, a long time ago, he meant a great deal to me."
Draco looked down. "Then we'd better hurry. If I'm not there in time, Snape will kill him."
"If we're not there in time, he'll kill me too…"
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TO BE CONTINUED IN PART EIGHT:
--What's the meaning behind the seer's words?
--Who placed the portkey in the forest?
--Where did Ginny and Hermione land?
--Why are the children going to sleep?
--Whose are the empty eyes that follow Draco?
--Why would Om-ree die if Dumbledore did?
--When will lost lovers meet?
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