(A/N) Thank you so much for all your support. I can't apologize enough for not posting another chapter for at least 4 weeks. I couldn't think what to do next and plus it's the holidays :) Sorry for any inconvenience guys!
This chapter is dedicated to Merri, Mel, Gyps and Charlotte. (For being the greatest friends ever)
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Following The Sun, To Find The One
Who's Giving You The Wings To Fly.
Following The Sun, The Golden One
Losing Sense For Space And Time.
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Can You Feel The Waves Of Life,
Can You Hear The Sigh Of Love
Do You Believe In It?
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Following The Sun, Just For The One
Till You'll Find The Door You Thought.
Following The Sun, Like Everyone
Searching For A Sign Of Hope.
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Follow The Sun -Enigma-
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Chapter 25: Love, Devotion, Feeling, Emotion
Thin strips of moonlight fell across the three beds that lay closest to the window in the Hospital Wing. Hermione Granger weakly groaned a little in her sleep and then began to stir. It had been the first time since Voldemort's attack that any of the three had woken. Hermione moved her head and blinked heavily trying to accept her surroundings.
Blood was pounding in her ears making her head throb; nevertheless she sat up slowly, drawing the sheets up to her chin. It took her a moment to register that she was in the Hospital Wing; as the darkness of the room turned the furniture into hunched shadows.
So they had survived…at least she had.
Turning her head to the left she saw Peter Pettigrew in the closest bed and Harry in the furthest one. They looked terrible in Hermione's opinion. Her left arm still hadn't completely healed yet, but it had been at least a week since they had been brought from the darkened lair so much couldn't be expected.
A twang of fear suddenly flooded through her.
"Draco," she whispered to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea whether or not he was alright, or indeed alive. She remembered seeing Draco fighting with Alexandra as Voldemort advanced upon the two…his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. How was it possible that he had survived? How was it possible that Ron or any of the others had survived for that matter?
Hot tears sprung into her eyes as the dread pitted in her stomach made her muscles tighten. She was sure that Draco hadn't survived…after all betraying your father and the most powerful dark wizard in the world didn't leave you with much chance of survival. Shaking with dread, her head still throbbing with pain, Hermione decided that she could do nothing about it now, in the middle of the night.
So, choking back her tears, she slowly slid back under the covers, closed her eyes and tried to focus on getting to sleep…she needed rest to face the times ahead and prepare herself for the worst.
A high scream echoed through the darkened mansion, piercing and blood-curdling. Shadows danced upon the walls of the living room in which two people stood, cloaked in black. A third person, crouching upon the ground was now rising to their feet. This person flexed his ghostly white hands and cracked his neck. The other two people looked shocked and terrified.
"Didn't I tell you that I would return?" croaked Voldemort, his voice hoarse.
"Y-yes my Lord," replied one of the people standing before him. It was a woman who spoke.
"Then why did you three desert me? Well…you two, now that I have taken Goyle's life for my own, my soul taking over his," Voldemort spat, his eyes narrowing.
"Master, we thought you were dead!" The other person grunted, "Lucius said you had died!"
"Fool," spat Voldemort, striking Crabbe across the face, "Haven't you heard about the prophecy? I cannot die unless Harry Potter is dead; or unless the alliance is formed. Which I doubt is going to happen seeing Harry Potter's current state,"
"What happens now?" the woman spoke again, her voice quiet. Voldemort turned to her.
"Well Narcissa, seeing as though you are the last Malfoy who is actually loyal to me, unlike your wretched son Draco, you and Crabbe will assist me in destroying what little family Harry Potter has left. Then we shall round up Severus and tear him from the old fool Dumbledore's protection. Bellatrix kindly disposed of Sirius Black two years ago, as we already know. But now, we must get a little more personal. To Privet Drive!" Voldemort sneered, swishing his cloak.
Narcissa and Crabbe smiled at each other before wrapping their cloaks around themselves and disappearing with a little crack…
The Evil had returned…
Draco Malfoy sat up abruptly, pushing the doona covers off his over heating body. A thin row of sweat had formed on his upper lip and he felt as though he had just woken from a nightmare.
"Hermione," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He had the feeling that she was alright, a sense that she would get better and everything would be ok.
Draco checked his watch and it read 3:45am; still early. Someone stirred under the blankets beside him.
"What's wrong?" Ginny Weasley murmured, sitting up next to Draco, drawing the covers around her body.
"Nothing, it's alright Ginny; just a bad dream. Go back to sleep," Draco replied kindly, trying to give her a reassuring smile.
Ginny shot him a weak smile in return, tiredness was still ebbing through her body and she slid back under the warm comfort of the covers.
Ginny and Draco had been sleeping in the same bed together ever since the night they had talked together on the window sill. True, nothing was happening between them, but they were both comforted a little more by the fact that they could reassure each other about everything that had happened. It was a way they could both feel safe. Since Mrs. Weasley had gone back to the Burrow a few nights previous, Draco felt that Ginny needed to feel more secure; so the sleeping arrangements had been made.
Checking carefully to see if Ginny was asleep again, Draco snuck quietly from the bed, pulling the covers over his pillow to keep the warmth in. Stretching his arms out and yawning the blonde male pulled a white singlet over his bare chest and put some jeans on before swishing on his black cloak.
Pulling it tightly around himself, the Slytherin ruffled his hair briefly and headed for the door, swinging it shut behind him…there was no reason for him to return to the Head's Common Room again tonight.
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Padding softly down the carpeted corridor Draco could hear the witches and wizards in the paintings whisper among themselves and he knew they were talking of him but he didn't care. Who gave a stuff if they thought he was spying on Dumbledore? He knew the truth, which wasn't that and that's all that mattered.
The trouble was, practically everyone in the entire school had heard about the battle with Voldemort and they too though it extremely fishy that a Slytherin, a recent Death Eater and whose father was a well known Death Eater himself and faithful servant to "You-Know-Who", would suddenly turn and fight for justice unless there was something in it for him. And the fact that he had killed Alexandra, another fellow Slytherin, didn't help in the slightest.
"Damn Dumbledore," thought Draco momentarily, "Why does the whole school have to be informed of every little detail?"
"Lumos," he muttered into the now consuming darkness. His wand set off a dim glow across the floor. Draco ignored the grumbles from the wizards in the paintings who complained of the light being too bright.
After a few moments the Hospital Wing doors were before him. He reached out and touched the cool wood, running his fingers over the smooth surface, breathing deeply.
There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he whispered the Alohomora spell, pulled the door opened, slipped through and shut it behind him. Voldemort was alive…He was sure of it. Why else would the Dark Mark still burn upon his forearm? If the Dark Lord was truly dead, the Dark Mark would no longer scar his arm, it would have vanished entirely.
Smiling as he wandered over to Hermione's bed and seeing her face, Draco pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat, watching her intently. He traced his eyes over her features, along her jaw line, over her soft lips which he longed to feel against his again. He loved her more than life itself and treasured her deep within his heart. She was precious, a shining diamond in his times of darkness. And suddenly hope flooded through Draco's body…and he knew that she would be alright, that she could pull through.
Silently Draco reached out and touched her cheek delicately. He ran his fingers over her soft skin, prayers for her recovery filling his brain. Then he leaned across and kissed her gently upon the cheek. He sat back and sighed, he would wait, she would get better and then he would hunt down Voldemort and kill him, the wizard who had made his life agony ever since he was a kid.
He would get revenge one last time and he knew he would not fight alone…