Disclaimer: Nope, nope, nope. ...Still nope.
Hi! This chapter's a little...boring? Cos' this chapter's about the aftermath, and aftermath always means tying up loose ends XD. Anyway, sorry about this, but my updates will be kind of on and off now, because my college life has started! And as we all know, college life equals to busy life LOL. So please pardon me for any late updates(:
Enjoy!
Chapter 11
Hermione looked at the prone figure lying on the hospital bed, chewing on her lip and a lock of her hair guiltily. Her eyes traced the scratches and bruises that were visible on the scrawny arms and legs, a burden weighing heavily in her heart. It was all of her fault. If she hadn't been so emotional, hadn't been so stupid as to mind that Weasley's words, she wouldn't have met the troll, and wouldn't have placed both hers, Harry's, and even Draco's life in danger. It was all her fault.
She rubbed her eyes tiredly, another hand clutched tightly at her skirt. A hand fell on her shoulder and she stiffened slightly.
"It isn't your fault, Hermione," a soft voice sounded from behind her. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. Even the softness couldn't hide the cultured tone that had been bred for years.
She couldn't hold it in. A single tear made its way down her cheeks as she sniffled and gave a strangled whisper, "Not my fault? If n-not for me, H-Harry wouldn't be lying here!" She turned around and looked at Draco with wild eyes as she continued, "How can you say it's not my fault? Harry w-wouldn't have been injured if I weren't so stupid –"
A gentle hand cupped over her mouth, stopping her whispered rant. Wide brown eyes met calm grey as Draco murmured, "It isn't your fault, Hermione. Harry could have chosen not to save you, but in the end he did, and I'm glad that he did when I didn't, or you would have died."
Hermione's eyes softened as she heard the regret in his voice, and said, "It doesn't matter if you hadn't wanted to save me at first, but it matters that in the end you did. But I wish I hadn't been so stupid –"
"It was his choice, not yours. It was his choice. Our choice," Draco said firmly, with a steely tone as he grasped her arms tightly, cutting off her words.
She closed her eyes in a bid to get a hold of herself, gulping in deep breaths of air as she eased her emotions. Draco relaxed his hold on her arms and moved back a few steps to give her space. For a few moments, all they could hear was breathing.
"He was amazing. Confronting that beast, killing it. I didn't even know how he did it. One moment the beast was up, the next it was down," Hermione spoke up suddenly, pride in her voice, yet with slight trembling, as though afraid to recount that particular adventure.
Draco didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that statement. "Yeah, amazing. Acted like a real Gryffindor. And like any Gryffindor, it got him into this state," he retorted bitterly, waving his hand feebly at the prone figure.
She bit her lip and looked away. Draco quickly recollected himself and settled into a blank stare.
"He'll be alright, right?" she asked quietly, eyebrows knitted together in worry.
Lips tweaking into a smirk, Draco rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on, he survived the Killing curse. Nothing's going to be worse than that."
Hermione giggled a little, replying, "Harry's going to hit you for that, you know? He hates it when people talk about that particular event."
The blond attempted a smile, but failed spectacularly when his grey eyes gleamed suspiciously with what looked like tears.
"I'd rather he hits me, than just sleeping there," he whispered.
The duo slumped back into the brooding silence at that statement, interrupted only by the rustling of clothes on Hermione's part as she clenched and unclenched her skirt.
Harry had taken the brunt of the attack, being showered with glass and falling shrapnel as he covered Hermione. Coupled with stress and magical exhaustion, it was no surprise that he would collapse at the end. But the unconsciousness wasn't supposed to last for longer than a day, and it had already been a day and a half, almost two, judging by the orange light the Hospital wing was bathed in.
The worry almost drove both Draco and Hermione nuts. Even Hermione, who was obsessed with lessons, skipped them in the beginning just to keep vigil at his bed side, until Draco dragged her to the afternoon classes. The incident pushed the both together for comfort, and Draco couldn't bring push her away. Not when he still felt guilt.
The both of them looked on somberly as Madam Pomphrey bustled in and out, occasionally checking in on Harry.
--
… Warmth emanating from arms circling around him, a deep sense of peace falling over them.
Determined glint in narrowed eyes as long, elegant fingers twirled his wand, a wary stance as he crouched in preparation for any sudden attacks.
Fingers wiping away tears tenderly, elation and long-lost completion emerging for the first time as the same fingers linked both of their hands together, and with a tug, saved him from his hell.
The same feeling of happiness and completion like yin and yang as their bodies finally joined as one, souls humming with delight.
Being lost in those endless crimson eyes, loving how he had a particular shade to himself, where his eyes burned a deep, serious red that reminded him of molten lava when he uttered his most favourite phrase, "I love you"…
It was as though watching a quickly flashing television, the images moving so fast that it was quite impossible to catch any of it. He didn't understand what was going on, but somehow or another he did.
It all seemed to be fading in, and out, until everything simply disintegrated and floated away, just like he was in a dream, where he could never remember what was shown to him.
Thick fog replaced everything, but his limbs weren't cooperating as he tried to wade through, and everywhere looked bleak to him. Trawling through seemed like a pain, what with his head swimming with weariness and his whole body feeling like it was laden with lead or something equally heavy. Voices that he couldn't make out floated in and out, and he felt fleeting touches now and then. Everything was in such a haze that he wondered vaguely if he was hallucinating.
Despite the desire to just crawl back to the comfortable and cozy darkness before all the images showed up, he continued his struggle to fight against the daze and paralysis-like state he was in. He had to wake up.
--
A cough was the first thing that alerted the half-asleep duo and the nurse that possessed fox-like ears. Madam Pomphrey was circling his bed like a hawk before the other two students could even completely comprehend what that cough meant. Harry fought to keep his eyelids open, but every muscle was protesting. His whole body felt weird to him, and something kept prodding at his consciousness. Something was waiting for him. Where, what, when? He didn't know.
He felt groggy, and all his eyes showed him was blurriness and vague silhouettes. After a few blinks, familiar appearances came into his vision.
"How are you, Mr. Potter?" a clipped, professional voice asked.
His head was pounding hard and his throat felt like a withered plant as he blinked mutely at Madam Pomphrey, trying to regain his bearings. When he finally realized he had to reply her, he opened his mouth and tried to speak, only to cough in a croaking voice. The nurse immediately handed him a glass of water, which he downed gratefully.
As his throat finally felt like it wasn't about to die, he tried again, ignoring the nausea welling up within him, "I'm fine. How many days was I out for?"
Madam Pomphrey pursed her lips, taking out her wand and replied, "Two."
Harry blinked; the only sign of his shock. Madam Pomphrey began casting several diagnostic spells as she took advantage of his silence, and his eyes widened as he saw the wand light up in a familiar crimson colour. Images from his dreams flashed in his head, and he jerked a little. His heart beat sped up, unfamiliar emotions surging within him. He closed his eyes for a moment, steadied himself, as his vision started to blur and his headache doubled.
The nurse narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could point out anything, a body was flung onto him, and he found himself in a body-binding hug and the recipient of loud sobbing and intelligible murmuring. Recognizing the frizzy brown hair in an instant, he raised his hand and patted on Hermione's back awkwardly, murmuring, "I'm alright now."
Harry stiffened as a drawling voice spoke up, "Alright? You look half dead."
Turning his head around, he peered up at the blond, their eyes meeting. For a moment, they stared at each other without speaking, until Draco looked away, flushing a tiny bit. Harry let out the first small smile since he had woken up, understanding dawning in him. Switching his attention back to the nurse, he squirmed as she pinned him under her scrutinizing stare.
"You're to stay in the hospital wing for the next three days for observation," she stated primly.
She gave him a look, daring him to protest. Harry didn't even have the energy to fight back. Sighing internally, he resigned himself to another few more days in the sanitized, white, four-walled, boring Hospital Wing.
"And don't you dare sneak out of the hospital wing again, Mr. Potter," she continued in a warning tone as she walked over to a cupboard fetch some potions. Despite his migraine and weariness, he still managed to blush as Draco looked at him half-accusingly, half-amusedly. He forgot that Draco didn't know what happened.
Taking the first potion offered with a reluctant hand, he looked at that milky white liquid suspiciously. When he finally recognized the muscle relaxant, he drank it in a gulp as Madam Pomphrey asked, "Does your head hurt? Is your vision clear? Does your muscles ache?"
"Head hurts, vision clear, muscles are a little sore," he replied promptly, face settling back to his usual impassiveness.
"Do you remember what happened? Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy had informed me that you were the one who had saved them. Do you remember anything about it? What did you do?"
Harry's blank mask cracked a little as his eyes widened. He clutched the blankets in reflex. He…saved them? No. It wasn't him.
He remembered the shards of glass and rubble hitting him with a painful vengeance, and the loud creaks and crashes echoing continuously around as walls and supporting structures gave way and glass shattered under the assault of the blunt weapon. He remembered the desperation he felt and the helplessness in that sudden moment when he thought that they were utterly done for, and he remembered the great big ugly brute that stomped around like a child throwing a tantrum, albeit being much more dangerous.
But one thing that etched itself firmly into his mind stood out the most.
The impressive presence that stood regally in front of the troll, the graceful movements and the tantalizing magic, coupled with the sense of familiarity. The man was the one who had saved them, whose presence had called out to him, and had evoked so many emotions within him. But strangely enough, he couldn't remember the face. Only the eyes.
Those crimson eyes…
…Tom…
Harry shuddered, sweat trickling down the nape of his neck as he bit out, "N-no."
"No?"
"No. I don't remember anything."
He took in deep breaths discreetly to calm himself down, palms pressing into the mattress as he waited for his palpitating heart to slow down. A secret, he thought. The whole event would be a secret. He would not refute what the others thought, he would not tell the truth. Something told him not to tell, and he wholeheartedly agreed.
"Very well then, I suppose you are tired. Have some rest. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, please return to your Houses. It is already close to your curfew," Madam Pomphrey said curtly as she began arranging his pillows.
Some hesitant shuffling was heard as the duo moved silently out of the hospital wing. Harry directed a reassuring smile at the both of them who were clearly worried till they were out of his sight.
Turning around to face the nurse, he noted dully that the nurse was looking at him with a strange expression. She sighed after a few moments, handing him the second potion. He eyed the thick blue potion, hesitant about drinking it. It didn't look at all familiar to him.
"That is Dreamless Sleep. Drink it up and go to sleep," she stated calmly.
Gulping it down tentatively, he murmured, "Thank you."
The nurse didn't say anything as she switched off the lights and tucked him in. As he was falling asleep, he felt a soothing hand running through his hair, and a whispered goodnight.
--
"Stupid boy…Idiotic child who refuses protection… Mice…Get himself into coma…"
Harry stirred as soft hissing sounded in his ear. His bed creaked as he shifted slightly. Cracking his tired eyes open in the darkness, he blinked a few times before he could finally see in the dark.
"Troublemaker of a boy…Fighting trolls, good Merlin…Mice…"
"Eros?" Harry hissed curiously as he pulled himself up into a half seating position supported by his elbows.
Peering over the edge of the bed, his suspicions were confirmed as he saw the green snake was half-coiled on the floor beside his bed, head raised so that she was looking up at him.
"Carry me up. This floor's too cold," she grumbled, irritation flashing in her black beady eyes.
Tongue-tied for a moment, Harry numbly reached down and carefully hoisted her up onto the bed. Eros hissed in pleasure as she felt the warmth of the sheets, uncurling herself to her full length as she lounged on the bed, taking up almost half of it. Harry simply watched in bewilderment as she made herself comfortable, merely protesting weakly at the end, "You're taking up too much space."
In an instant, half of her was rounding up on him as she retorted, "Taking too much space?! You better get used to this, Potter! I am so going to stay by your side for the rest of your life! Ooh! How dare you not let me go with you on Halloween! Just because of that stupid rebellious act where you said 'I can protect myself!' you get hurt and land yourself here! Stupid humans."
Harry stared back at her as she finished her rant, lips breaking out in a sheepish smile.
"How dare you laugh!" the snake protested, black eyes flashing.
Harry reached over and pulled the snake into a hug, though careful not to squash it. Giggling a little, he hissed teasingly, "Aww, Mummy's worried."
Eros huffed in irritation, retorting, "You're lucky that you escaped alive!"
Harry froze at that comment, his mind dredging up the memories that he had temporarily suppressed in favour of sleep. He was lucky, yes, lucky that they were saved by the man.
The man, his head reeled at the thought of him.
He didn't know why he was so affected. Every time he thought of that incident, every time the figure of the man flashed in his mind, something would lurch within him, and he would break out in cold sweat, pulse racing. His head ached, and the pair of unique crimson eyes haunted the recesses of his mind. He couldn't remember how the man actually looked, but something told him that it was important. He was important.
"Eros," Harry whispered suddenly, emerging from his thoughts, "how can you find someone?"
The snake looked at him strangely, black eyes glinting with something unknown. "Well…what do you know about that someone?"
Laying down so that he was side by side with her on the bed, he replied, diving into his short memories about his encounter that lasted only for a few seconds with the man.
"He's very, very powerful, and he has crimson eyes. I think he looks like a ghost somehow; he has that translucent skin, though it's much more opaque than the ghosts around here. I'm not sure about his name, but I think he's called Tom."
Eros was silent for a few moments.
"Why are you trying to find him?" a curious hiss questioned.
Harry paused. Why was he trying to find that man? Covering his eyes with his arm, he gave a sigh.
"I don't really know. Curiosity? Gratitude? The man did save my – our lives, you know? It's just, something tells me to find him. I really want to know who he is."
"It's rare for you to want to get close to someone. You only let pinhead and the mouse-haired in, for unfathomable reasons mind, despite the fact that there are probably hundreds of brats waiting to be your friend. And – what did you mean by the man saved your life? Weren't you the big hero that saved the day?"
Harry scowled deeply, recognizing the various insults Eros weaved into her reply.
"For the umpteenth time, Draco isn't a pinhead and Hermione's hair is of a darker brown than that of mice! And you know perfectly well that those brats aren't trustworthy anyway, so you can't blame me for being distant!" he groaned, before lowering his tone to an inquisitive one, "and why does everyone think that I'm the big hero anyway? Didn't the both of them see him?"
Eros gave an imitation of a human shrug as she replied nonchalantly, "Whatever. The two human brats just said that the troll was up one second, making a huge ruckus, and when they looked up, it was down, you were fainting and the whole toilet was saturated with magic."
"How did you know? No, wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know," Harry deadpanned, frowning at her.
She gave his a snake's imitation of a shark-like grin, hissing, "Well, if you want to find whoever that someone is, I suppose you can try those flimsy papers that you humans love to stick your noses in? If he is that powerful, wouldn't he be in there?"
Harry's eyes widened.
Lunging over to give the snake a strangling hug, he replied excitedly, "You're a genius!"
Eros' only reply was a choking protest and a whacking tail.
--
He sighed as Hermione lunged at him the instant they saw him standing outside of the hospital wing.
"Oh Merlin, I'm so glad that you're fine now!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with something that looked suspiciously like tears. Behind her, Draco couldn't stop smiling in delight.
Harry blinked in surprise; he hadn't thought that they were so worried. In the whole healing daze and thinking of upcoming research plans, he hadn't much paid attention to his two friends after the first sobbing fest where Hermione had repeatedly apologized, only for him to smack her on her head as he told her that it was natural to save her as she was his friend. Pulling her into a willing hug, he reassured, "I'm fine now."
Releasing her, he walked over to Draco. The two of them stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and Harry's jaw clenched in determination. It was now or never. Pulling him into a one-handed hug, he asked, "We're still friends, right?"
Grey eyes flickered uncertainly from him to the hopeful girl, as something settled in his eyes and he nodded minutely. Harry broke out into a wide grin and hugged him again, causing him to blush.
The school seemed quiet for a Saturday morning, as the trio met no one as they trouped down the halls to head towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione rattled on and on about the lessons held for the whole week he had been out, with Draco adding in a little, and he listened patiently. He would rather not spend all his extra time working through missed lessons.
Waiting for the moving staircase to stop, Harry asked casually, "Anyway, I forgot to ask, but what happened after that whole troll incident?"
Hermione flushed as Draco teased, "Hermione here took all the blame for herself so that the two of us wouldn't be punished. I would have stopped her, if not for the fact that I was busy gaping at her Gryffindorish tendencies."
Harry grinned and relaxed at the sight of Draco's laughing expression, knowing that he meant no harm. "What punishments? And what about Weasel?"
Their faces darkened at the mention of that red head, and Draco spat, "Fifty point deduction for us, but that Weasel got scot-free, even when we told Professor McGonagall about it. That son of a bitch…ugh."
Harry's eyes flashed for a moment, and he growled angrily, "What?"
"He denied ever insulting me, and acted like some goody goody two shoes. Professor McGonagall couldn't do anything, though I think she believed us," Hermione spat irritably, creasing her forehead as she scowled.
Harry cursed softly as they neared the Great Hall. Pushing the door open, the trio fell quiet and switched subjects, though their expressions remained disgruntled. Exchanging looks that agreed to meet later, they separated.
The Hall was almost empty as it was still early in the morning, with only a few teachers up on the table, and less than twenty of the students filling the House tables. Draco moved to join Theo at the Slytherin table, while Hermione and Harry walked to the Gryffindor table.
"Hey," a soft voice greeted as they reached the table. Looking up, he found himself smiling at Neville.
Swinging her legs over the bench, Hermione chirped with a bright smile, "Morning, Neville."
Harry scooped himself a bowl of porridge as he greeted back, "Hey."
Neville timidly looked down at his bowl as he stirred the contents, and spoke quietly, "I'm glad you are alright. You looked so distracted and unwell you know? That night Ron…well, on Halloween's night."
Harry swallowed a gulp of pumpkin juice, choking slightly as he remembered that night.
"I heard what happened, and Ron really went too far. I wish Professor McGonagall would punish him, but none of our year mates dare to speak out," Neville continued, wrinkling his forehead as he pushed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Frowning, he looked at Hermione questioningly. She promptly replied, face flushing a slight angry red, "That Weasel – sorry Neville, Weasley had been insulting people left and right. At least, only for the first years. The upper years don't know, and no one dared to tell the Professors after our failed try."
Harry clenched his hands and gripped his goblet tightly, glowering at the innocent looking porridge bowl. Emerald eyes glinting with fury, he suddenly stood up. Directing his question at Neville, he asked, "Are his brothers like him?"
He shook his head mutely, blinking at him in shock at the sudden question. "Umm, no. Percy's real helpful when it comes to studies, and Fred and George are a great deal of fun."
Harry gritted out tersely, "Good. I'm off to write…a letter."
The two Gryffindors gaped at his back as he walked tensely out of the Hall.
--
Dear Fred and George Weasley (Or Gred and Forge),
I shall be straightforward. Your youngest brother, Ronald, has managed to be a nuisance to the rest of the First Years by insulting and making trouble for them. I will, on behalf of the rest of my year mates, be exacting revenge, of sorts, if you get what I mean. I would like to request for your help in this endeavour. If you agree, please meet me at the Gryffindor common room on Monday night.
Cheers to our possible cooperation,
Harry James Potter
Two contemplating looks were exchanged as mischievous glints appeared in their eyes. The two red headed twins stood up simultaneously, each wearing identical devilish smirks and calculating eyes. The people around them instantly moved away when they glanced at them, feeling some sort of anxiety and thrill as they registered that familiar look.
The twins were about to strike again.
"Pompous way of putting things, but definitely an interesting request. How about it, my dear Forge?"
"Seems like our dearest Ronniekins have gotten on the bad side of our magnificent Boy-Who-Lived. Of course we shall try to get our lovely brother back on the right side of things!"
--
Tuesday found a red faced Ron Weasley tied up, dangling from the ceiling of the Great Hall with nothing but boxers that are yellow with neon pink polka dots, hair switching colours every five seconds, "I'm the world's largest asshole" painted on his chest with bright green paint, spouting nonsensical sentences such as "I love Slytherin", "Professor McGonagall has the cutest butt", and "Professor Snape is sexy" constantly.
The professors had no idea whether to laugh or cry, but no one seemed to have the idea of letting him down. The students, especially the First Years, had a hell of a time laughing at the predicament of Weasley. The girls kept bursting into fits of giggles every time they looked up, while the boys hooted loudly in laughter and pointed at the hanging boy every now and then, snickering.
Weasley's face turned redder and redder by the minute, and began shouting at the top of his voice, but everything that came out, was of course something as ridiculous as "Professor Dumbledore and Professor Vector are shagging!", which caused the whole Hall to burst out in laughter.
The three perpetrators held proud smirks on their faces as they glowed at all the hidden praise. No outright compliments of course; they didn't dare get them into trouble.
All mistakes are purely mine.
Review, review, review! Please?
-Myxa
