All characters belong to JKR

Chapter 21 – Baby you Can Drive my Car

"Hermione!"

Adrian called out her name, running pass a shattered wooden fence, his boots caked with overturned mud and grass caused by the ruts from the wheels of the wrecked motorbike, as he ran to the girl who lay lifeless by a large tree on the ground only a few meters away.

When she first veered off the road toward the open field, crashing into the fence, he literally held his breath. Time seemed to stand still, his heart stopped beating when he watched the motorbike slip and slide in the mud, then through a fence, finally ending up on its side. The occupant was thrown off before it came to a complete stop. He ran to Hermione, in a heap on the ground, the wreckage of his ruined Muggle motorbike scattered like pebbles showing him the path to where she lay.

Sliding to his knees beside her, he shouted, "Hermione, Hermione! Are you all right? Don't try to move! Don't move a muscle. I'm here. I'm here, sweetheart." With shaking hands, he removed the helmet carefully, brushing curls away from her face. She was ashen, pale, her eyes closed.

"Hermione?" he demanded once more. Damn. If she were dead, he would never forgive himself! Never, especially as he had tried so hard to put everything on the course so that she could live!

Gathering her into his arms, he held her back against his chest as she opened her eyes. Really, her eyes sort of fluttered open slowly, and then she said, "You're not supposed to move an injured person, Adrian Pucey. That's basic First Aid. I'm shocked that as the injured person, I'm the one that has to tell you that."

"And I'm equally shocked that you wrecked. You weren't supposed to be able to wreck this thing. I placed a leveling spell on it to keep it upright." He moved his hands over her shoulders, arms, legs. Was she really okay? Her 'know-it-all' ability was functioning, of that he knew.

"I took it off. It seemed as if that were cheating or something, after you took the time to show me the clutch and the break and how to steer and all, so I thought if I were going to learn all the particulars, I might as well put my knowledge into action." She sat upright and then winced, in pain. "Ouch. I…I'm hurt. I'm in pain. I hurt my bum and my ribs."

He rubbed his hand down her hair and moved in front of her. "Your bum and ribs? Are you sure that's all you hurt?"

She nodded and affirmed, "And my dignity."

"And goodness knows that's in short supply these days," he said with a smile. "You could have at least hit your head. It's the hardest part of you."

She didn't smile at his meager display of humour, mostly because she didn't think it was funny, and partly because she really was in a bit of pain. "Please, help me up."

Instead of helping her to stand, he pulled her over to him, propping his back against the tree, tucking her to his side. Seeing that she wasn't hurt made his heartbeat come back down to the normal seventy-two beats per minutes. Seeing his motorbike in pieces across an open field caused it to race back up again. "My poor bike. I've had it for ages and I've taught all the Vipers to drive it and you're the only one to ever wreck it."

"Does that mean I'm a Viper now? If so, doesn't that fulfill another one of my tasks, to become a Viper?"

The rumbling of his laughter, deep in his chest, reverberated against her back and shoulder. Without answering, he brushed dirt and grass from his hands and jeans, then from her sleeves and back. "Your list said you wanted to know what happened in a meeting, and no, you're not a Viper." Grabbing her face between both hands he uttered, "Seriously, look what you did to my bike."

"I can't. You have my face. But look at the bright side, I'm okay. Doesn't that count for something?" she asked lightly. She tried to push away from him, so that she could stand, but decided she would remain on the ground for now. "Where are we, anyway?"

He pulled on her arms, pulling her so that she was almost in his lap, then he looked into her face, so close to his that he could count every freckle if he so desired, and said, "You're lucky, that's what you are. Damned lucky."

"Right, lucky, that's me," she said with a bit of sarcasm. "I'm dying in four and a half months, but oh I'm so very lucky." She hit his arms away from her body and made to sit beside him again.

"Is this the 'pity poor little Hermione' part of our conversation?" he goaded.

"Heavens, no," she proclaimed. "I wouldn't want you to go against type. You've not pitied me so far, and I wouldn't want pity from you now." She sighed, and wiped her muddy hands on his jeans, which made him give her a strange look.

Using his wand to remove the mud from his jeans he asked, "You never told me how your time with Potter and Weasley went."

"And you never told me where we were. We've been driving on deserted country lanes, so this must be private property."

He didn't want to tell her that they were on Malfoy land. He didn't think she would appreciate that fact. "Never mind where we are, the question is, where's the rest of my bike? I see some there," he pointed, "and there, and there, and there."

She grabbed his hand and pulled it down to his side. Frowning, she lay back on the ground, gingerly, careful not to bump her bruised bum, and she peered up at the sunlight as it made its way through the awning of tree limbs and leaves. Taking her time to think of her response, she finally said, "I'll answer your question, even if you won't answer mine. My time with Ron and Harry was unproductive, to be sure."

He got up on his knees, looked down at her and relayed, "I could have told you as much. You went there to try to convince them to come home, didn't you? They won't come home until they find what they believe is an anti-curse. Why did you bother?" He held out his hand to help her to stand.

She hit it away. Remaining on her back, she wanted to spur him on by responding with…'Why did I bother? Gee, maybe I don't want to die alone, have you thought of that?'Instead, she continued to stare up at the rays of light making their escape through the interlocking leaves on the tree above her and she said, "Do you think I'd be better off if I'd had just died quickly?"

He groaned beside her. "This is the pity part of our conversation," he responded flatly. "Hermione, it was a simple motorbike accident. You said you only hurt your bum and side. For goodness sakes!"

Ignoring his ill humour, she said, "I'm not speaking of the accident. I'm speaking of the curse and the fact that I'm dying. I'm glad I'm not suffering, and I'd hate to be in constant pain, as my tailbone and such can attest at this very moment, so I'm thankful I don't have cancer like my parents had, but sometimes I wonder if I'd had been better off dying quickly, instead of this."

"You mean instead of living?" he said seriously.

"Living with an expiration date," she clarified, turning her gaze from the tree branches above them to him. "Am I better off living like I am, or would it had been better if I had died, say in the war, like Fred Weasley or Lupin. I wonder about that, when I'm alone at night. I hate being alone at night." Suddenly, she curled into a ball, on her side, and she began to cry. "I'm afraid at night."

Rubbing his hand up and down her arm he asked, "What are you afraid of, Hermione?"

"Dying alone." Then she let out a shaky laugh, then a hitched sob. "Isn't that absurd? When I'm alone I'm afraid of being alone. But really, more specifically, dying alone." She continued to cry, on her side, on the patch of grass underneath the tree.

"When my mum died, she had my dad and me with her, and even though she died in Hospital, we were with her to the very end. Same with Dad. When he died, although he died in his own bed, I was there with him, as was Harry and Ron. Who's going to be there with me, Adrian?"

He pulled her back into his lap and cradled her in his arms, holding her, rocking her back and forth. "You don't suppose Harry and Ron will stay gone do you?" he prompted. "And you've got all of us, such as we are. We aren't the same as your family, but we love you."

"But you're Vipers!" she sobbed.

He laughed, because he didn't know what she meant by that, and he was certain she didn't know either.

"Don't laugh at me. I don't know what to expect, and I don't know if it'll hurt, or if it will be peaceful, like falling asleep. I need to know! I don't want to die and I don't want to be alone at the end." She got up on her knees and started to move away.

"What makes you think we'd let that happen anyway?" he proposed, moving her to sit back down beside him. He meant that he wasn't about to let her die, but neither would he let her go through this alone. "I told you during that first meeting, when the Vipers decided to help you with your list, when you saw that I was part of the Viper's Den, although really, you already should have known I'd be there, but when you and I went to Theo's study to talk, I told you that I had no intention of letting you die, and no intention of telling the other's you were dying."

She wiped her tears away with one hand as the other moved in a mocking manner to indicate that she thought he was speaking too much. "No intention of letting me die is unrealistic and not the same as not letting me die alone, Pucey!"

Adrian grabbed her fingers and asked, "What?"

"Like you can keep me from dying! Your little theory about me falling in love with two of your pals to keep me living won't work. I spoke with Bill Weasley while I was in Peru and he confirmed what I thought. He's an expert curse breaker and he said it wouldn't work, as I already knew it wouldn't! Besides, in case you haven't noticed, Marcus loves his girlfriend, Blaise is bisexual, Draco only loves people named Draco and Theo is so broken that he doesn't even know if he's living or not, let alone how to love. I won't even mention you and me, because we know there's no you and me, so I'm as good as dead!"

"It's not my theory," he said in a placating voice. "It was written by someone way before my time, and I'll go to Hogwarts and find the book with the ancient runes that has the anti-curse in it and prove it to you." He reached over, dusted the remaining tears off her cheeks and added, "True, Marcus loves Daphne, and Draco only loves Draco, but Theo still has a great capacity to love. He only needs to find it again."

She tore her hand from his and turned her head to the side. "And Blaise?" she asked, bringing his arm up to her face and wiping her face across his sleeve.

He looked at her incredulously, grinned, and then said, "And Blaise is the glue that will hold you both together. Speaking of, you didn't really say anything when I told you that Blaise told the other lads about your curse."

She fell back to the soft earth again, staring upwards. "I don't care who knows."

He straddled her body, gazed down at her and said, "You should care, because it's going to change all of the dynamics, and whose fault is that, Granger? You're the one who told Zabini the truth about your curse, not me! Yet you left me to take care of damage control, which is all I've ever done with that lot!"

"Now who's full of pity?" She kicked her legs, and squirmed underneath him, but he was too large and too heavy and she couldn't get him to budge. "Get off me!"

"Make me!" he taunted.

"Hey, what do you mean, left you to take care of damage control? What did you tell them when Blaise told them all that I was dying? You didn't tell me before."

"I told them Blaise was lying to get attention. I told them he was stark raving!" Hermione looked outraged at that admission from him, so with a frown, Adrian placed his back against the tree again. "Of course I didn't say that. I could hardly Oblivate all of my friends memories, even if I am an Unspeakable, and I'd be well within the law to do so. Still, I implored them not to tell Theo right now."

Hermione sighed, sitting up from the ground. "Like he'd care, anyway."

Adrian wondered if he should tell her that Theo learned Beatles songs in the wake of her absence – and he's done it just for her. That when he tried to take her cat, John, back to his flat, that Theo wouldn't let the little hairball leave their townhouse. No, he wouldn't tell her. She would have to figure out some things on her own. "You're right. He probably doesn't care. Get up if you're not hurt. It's time to go home. If you want to have a good cry, you can have it there as easily as you can have it here."

"I hate you, Adrian Pucey," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek.

He stood up and said, "Who doesn't. Come on then, give me your hand. Up and away with you." He took her hands in his, heaved, and helped her to stand in front of him. Releasing her hands, making certain she was steady, he used a spell and fixed and righted his bike. It looked a bit odd afterwards, but it was the best he could do.

"That was careless of you," he accused once more, indicating the bike, watching as she hobbling over to the fence, which she fixed with her wand.

"Seems careless is my middle name nowadays," she said softly. Leaning against the fence she complained, "Nothing's going as planned. Not the binge drinking, the dueling, or the driving the motorbike. The only thing that went right was cutting Lucius Malfoy's hair. Perhaps I should spend my last few months knitting or something. Might be boring, but safer."

He chuckled. "Cutting Lucius' hair has been the highlight so far? That's scary, isn't it? Fine, turn to knitting. You could knit a replacement jumper," he said, rubbing his hand over the worn material of the brown wool of her favourite jumper that she wore.

"I really don't know why you all don't like this jumper." She gazed down at the jumper, then back up into his face.

"My motto is love the girl, hate the jumper," he waned. Leaning casually against the fence beside her, he ventured, "Why did you leave so quickly? Did you and Theo fight?"

Shaking her head no, she answered, "No, we kissed."

"Ah, I see," he affirmed, shaking his head, which turned to a, "no, really, I don't see. What? You kissed, which is a good thing, but then you left, which is a bad thing. Explain, Hermione."

"He kissed me, and I kissed him, and we both decided it was a mistake."

When Adrian didn't respond to that, she turned to him. He was back on the mended bike, and without a word to her, he rode away.

She asked the thin air around her, "Was it something I said?"

Adrian parked the motorbike around the bend in the road, beyond Hermione's eyesight and then he Apparated back to Theo's townhouse. Running up the stairs at a fake, break-neck speed, acting out a fear he didn't really feel, he banged on the door of Theo's bedroom.

Because her and Theo kissed, and it wasn't a mistake. It was the start of something BIG! A simple kiss might be important enough to save not only her, but Theo as well, and if neither of them were going to do anything about it but run away from it, or lock themselves in bedrooms and play Beatles songs, then he'd do something about it!

He was shocked when he heard a voice in the hallway behind him ask, "What do you want, Adrian?" Theo stood behind him in the hallway, Hermione's cat in one hand.

Breathing hard, not from exertion, but from the fear that his plan might not work, he said to Theo, "We were doing an item on Hermione's list, teaching her to ride a motorbike, and she wrecked. We were right outside of London, on the Malfoy Estate, where I taught all of you to drive it, and she wrecked." He sincerely hoped he'd said the word 'wrecked' enough times to get his point across. Should he say it once more? "She wrecked."

Theo pushed the kitten into Adrian's arms and ran down the hall, out of sight. "Wait!" Adrian shouted at his friend.

Draco walked out of his bedroom, looked at the clock in the hall and said, "It's only four in the effing afternoon. Is it such a crime for you people to let a man sleep in once in a while?"

Adrian pushed the cat into Draco's hands and walked down the stairs and out of sight.

Hermione started to climb over the fence, her foot on the bottom rung, as she peered down the country lane, looking to the left and then to the right. Feeling in her jumper pocket for her wand, she was about to Disapparate back to her flat, when she heard a distinct Apparition 'pop' behind her.

Turning quickly, she saw Theo standing at her back. He rushed up to her, his hands suddenly on her cheeks, then in her dishabille hair. "Are you hurt?"

"What?" She was confused, more than hurt.

"Adrian just Apparated to our house and the first thing out of his mouth was that you had an accident. He said you wrecked the motorbike. Are you hurt?" He continued to pull on her arms, hands, turning her around, studying her for injuries.

"How did you know where to find me?"

He dropped her arms, stood up straight. That thought must not have occurred to him. "I don't know. He said you were hurt. I grabbed my wand and…I…I…I don't know. I just came to you."

"Really?"

He nodded, his hand sweeping back her hair. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She nodded. He grabbed both sides of her long, brown jumper, pulled her closer, and embraced her, but he only held her for a moment. Then he pushed her away, recoiled as if burnt, or shocked. He stumbled away from her, ending up against the same tree where only moments before Adrian and Hermione had sat. He fell down next to it, sitting on the ground.

Hermione staggered over to him. He had his dark head resting against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed. Something was wrong with him, and she didn't know what. "Theo, are you okay?" He had just asked her if she were hurt, and now, she was worried for him. He looked as if he were in pain, emotionally, but even physically unwell.

He held up a hand. It shook. "I've only ever twice before been able to hone in on a person when I thought they needed me. Now it's happened again. I didn't want it to ever happen again."

"Really?" she asked again, crawling nearer. She didn't know what else to say. She sat right beside him. "That's an unusual gift. I've never quite heard of it."

"I'm highly sensitive to people and their moods," he said huskily, his hand sweeping over his brow. "The first time it happened, my mother was dying, and I didn't even know it, she wanted to shield me from it, but suddenly, I felt a pull, right here," and he pointed at his abdomen, "and though I was with my friends, I told them I had to leave. I went to her house and found her right before she died."

"When was the other time?" Hermione saw that he still had sweat on his forehead, though there was a chill to the air. She took the end of her long jumper and wiped the edge of it across his skin, sitting back on her heels.

He didn't want to tell her about the other time. He wouldn't tell. Plus, if he told her, she might leave, and he didn't want her to leave. He liked the way she touched him, stroked his fevered brow, and grasped his shaking hand. He needed someone to take care of him. It had been a long time since someone took care of him.

"It was a very long time ago." Not that long ago. He hated lying to her.

They were both silent, sitting almost facing each other, his back to the tree, her hand innocently resting on his thigh. She didn't want to know anything else about this man, did she? She had left to get away from her feelings for this man. As if he could read her mind, he asked, "Why did you leave?"

"I was only gone a few days," she explained.

"That's not what I asked, or rather, that didn't answer my question." He found it convenient how she only answered what she wanted, yet in that respect, they were so similar. He studied her closely, measuring her as if he'd never really seen her before, or might not see her again. "Did you leave because I kissed you?"

"You didn't want to kiss me," she reminded him.

"I never said that," he frowned. He shook his head, silently, weary, and he adjusted, "I only said that it was better that we wait."

"I can't wait," she spat. She tried to stand, but he grabbed the end of her brown sweater in his hand, grasping it so tightly that his skin turned white.

He closed his eyes again, leaned his head back, and then opened them. He looked up at the patchwork of sun shining through the leaves and said, "You're very contrary, Hermione Granger."

"So are you," she leveled with a soft tone. Somehow, naturally, she leaned down so that her head was on his thigh, and she joined him, gazing up at the sun-streaked canopy above them. "What are you most afraid of, Theo?"

"I'm not afraid of anything anymore," he lied. He knew it was a lie when he said it. He knew she would know it was a lie, but damn, he wanted it to be the truth. "What is there to fear, when the worst has already happened to you?"

"Hmm, I wonder," she trailed off…her voice soft and weak. "I used to face fear without worry, feeling I was capable of anything." Her breath seemed to stick in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. She sat up, rocking herself back and forth, soothingly, "Now I feel afraid all the time. I hate that. I hate that feeling. I was the Gryffindor girl who was full of courage. I was the one that faced fear head-on. I took others by the hand and helped them through their darkest times, and now I'm so afraid all the time that I feel like such a fool."

His fingertips were in her hair. It felt good, calming, drifting from her crown down to her back.

He said, "The other time I was able to feel that someone needed me, really needed me, I decided not to go to them. I ignored the feeling. I turned away, before I found out what they needed. I've regretted that every day of my life since. That's what I mean by facing my worst fear. My worst fear was to find that I would ignore that feeling again, and I would find you hurt, or something. That it would be too late." He stopped talking. He willed her to remain looking away from him. He couldn't countenance her stare right now.

She fell back again, but this time, he helped her back, and brought her over his body, so that she was draped across his lap. "Theo, I'm afraid," she said clearly.

"So am I, Hermione."

"I think we're afraid for different reasons," she clarified, lifting her hand to touch his cheek, then taking it away quickly, as if scalded.

"I wish to hell you were wrong, but I think you're right," he agreed.

He reached his fingertips to her neck, bringing them slowly down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, into the open collar of her shirt. His face softened as he gazed down at her. He wanted to kiss her again, but she was right, he was too afraid. He wouldn't fall in love again. Loving someone, and being afraid of losing them, hurt too much. He pushed her away, stood, and pulled her up. Then without asking her permission, he Apparated them both back to his house.

They stood in the small front garden, separated only by a walk on one side and a wrought-iron fence on the other. Draco and Blaise were standing by the gate, waiting for them.

"We didn't know if you'd be Apparating into the house, or driving back on the motorbike, so we thought we'd wait by the road. Where's Pucey, and what happened to you?" Draco asked Hermione, picking a leaf out of her hair. "Did you take a tumble?"

"Off the motorbike, but it still counts as one of my tasks completed," she explained, scratching her kitten on the ear as he wriggled in Draco's hands. Draco let the cat down at their feet. The cat moved through the iron bars separating one side of the fence from the other.

"I think if you wrecked the bike, it doesn't count," Draco goaded. "I think I'd like to see you complete one task as planned, then we'll see about them counting, Granger dear."

Blaise pushed Draco's shoulder, even as Malfoy smiled at her. She laughed and said, "Now come on, give me this one. None of the other ones have turned out as planned either, and you've let them count."

Suddenly, Marcus walked out the front door, to stand upon the stoop. She looked from one man to another, and she realized that they all, save for Theo, knew she was dying. Yet she didn't feel any differently toward them, nor did she think their affection or liking toward her was artifice or different, and for that she was grateful. She smiled.

Marcus started down the steps and he said, "Malfoy, pick up the cat. He's on the other side of the fence and he's about to go out into the road."

Just then, Adrian pulled in front of the house. He didn't see the kitten in time. All eyes turned toward the little cat as it darted out into the road.

Hermione screamed as the motorbike hit her kitten.

A/N - I wrote this the night my cat died, so sorry. I added that last line, and was going to take it out, but didn't. However, just because "Spink" died doesn't mean that 'Bob, Zeus, Caligula, Nero, Dante, Marcus, George, or John' is dead. Really. It doesn't.

Since then, my aunt has died as well, so it's not been a good week for me. That's also my excuse as to the reason this chapter is so late.