Ch. 29— New York State of Mind
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The playing of the song marked a distinct change in mood as the three of them continued their journey onward.
Her anger, it seemed, had lessened considerably.
Lucius had not relinquished 'hold' of her hand, and in point of fact, turned himself so he could have both hands on some part of her. Severus, too, had not given up the 'cradling' of the back of her head and the ethereal caress of her neck.
As Lucius watched, she sighed, and turned more fully into both sets of their hands. And Lucius closed his eyes in thankfulness.
The gel knew they were there, that was true, but she still seemed yet unaware they were so close to her, 'touching' her. However, instead of their phantoms' touch instinctively feeling threatening as Severus had feared; it now appeared to give her peace.
Lucius looked for any signs the gel could be tiring. And thus far, there were none.
In fact, she seemed as dewy-eyed and fresh-faced as she had as if she'd awoken from a full night's rest. And not counting the sleep of her drugged state or the brief dreamless nap that followed after, the gel had been up for nigh on thirty-six hours and very well could be up another thirty-six more.
Now how well Lucius understood this state they were in could be construed as a curse for all parties involved.
When he had told Severus about the Incubus Curse, he did not disclose that the spell could be cast upon a victim as well. It worked both ways, and as Lucius had told him seemingly so long ago: 'it was all a matter of intent.'
There was the spell that one could cast upon oneself—and this was what both Severus and Lucius had intended to use. However, if the spell was cast on a wizard that had not chosen someone on which to 'feed', then the wizard would literally waste away before the seventh day of the spell's expiration. Depending on the wizard's intent, the spell could be used as a means of making a literal ghost before the victim succumbs to death and becomes a proverbial one.
After all, a man could live without food for thirty days. But water?
Dehydration had been known to kill in less than three.
And though, while in this non-corporeal state, they needed no food or water, they did need her… Hermione was their oxygen, their lifes' blood. They needed to share her thoughts, her dreams nightly in order to keep themselves alive. He didn't want to worry Severus, but their situation was a grave one.
This spell—this curse— could kill them.
And if she didn't dream, didn't sleep… Lucius closed his eyes and grit his jaw. Never in his wildest imaginings had he thought this would be the case.
He moved closer to her still.
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What feeling had come over her, Hermione wondered, not for the first time since she had let that song play: the one she had wanted to stop from playing upon pain of death in case Lucius and Severus were still with her? But she hadn't stopped it. Something held her back. And she realized that since she had played it, a feeling of comfort had come over her.
And it was comfort. Plain and simple.
She was feeling reassured and supported. But these emotions were out of the blue. They weren't coming from her. It didn't make sense.
But then, nothing seemed to make sense in the last week.
Could Lucius and Severus still be with her… somehow trying to comfort her?! The thought came suddenly, and she tried to dismiss it. After all, the Lucius and Severus that she knew were each in their own right not comforting types. After the torture she had put them through, she expected them to be gone.
But the thought just wouldn't leave.
They were still with her. Somehow, she knew it for certain. They were still choosing to be with her! And they were the ones providing the feelings of comfort—of peace— that she was experiencing. They were trying to comfort her.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione slowly let it out, allowing herself to relax, feeling a semblance of calm for the first time since her world had been so thoroughly shaken apart. And Lucius and Severus were the ones convincing her to feel this way.
The drive had done its job of helping to clear her muddled thoughts.
Well, that and the occlusion she had practiced.
She still had two and a half days before she needed to be home, before she needed to confront the reality her life had become. And in those two and a half days, she was going to live and enjoy the rest of her holiday without shame or self-examination. After all, she would most certainly give herself enough of that upon her return.
So deciding, Hermione assessed her choices.
She could continue to drive for the next five hours, hitting heavy traffic along the way from Washington D.C to Baltimore, then Philadelphia to New York, or she could pull over to a nice, secluded spot, apparate, and be in New York City in less than a second.
It was a no-brainer.
Hermione quickly pulled off the next exit, which fortunately was in some tiny, backwater town in middle of nowhere. Even the gas station was derelict, having an air of abandoned neglect. Parking behind the building and making sure no one was about, she got out and performed a shrinking charm on the car, reducing the beautiful Maserati until it was the size and weight of a Matchbox car.
And fetching from within her beaded bag the strongbox that had formerly housed her cigarettes, she transfigured the lining to be plush crushed velvet and added a cushioning charm for good measure. With her wand, she carefully levitated her little toy and situated it now in its cushioned box.
She had a moment of panic thinking that she had reduced Severus and Lucius as well.
And then, of course, it would only serve them right for their behavior towards her…
But calming her mind and emotions, Hermione reached out with that sixth sense she was just coming to realize she possessed concerning them and noticed that feeling of calm peace surround her once more. She knew the two of them were near, perhaps even 'touching' her in some way. And she guessed that since they seemed to stay with her each time after she apparated that this would again be the case.
Clutching her wand to her, she thought of where she wanted to go, and with a small 'pop', vanished.
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Severus stood close to her, and he glanced up to see Lucius with a panicked look in his eye, while the muggles surrounding them gawked at Hermione strangely.
She had apparated them to a very congested area, and looking around, Severus tried to get a sense for their bearings. Catching a hint of unfamiliar accents around him, he realized she had apparated them to New York City: the largest city in the United States.
"Stay close!" Severus barked, grabbing for Lucius's collar as she began to walk away, quickly getting lost in the mélange of muggles surrounding them. Lucius had probably never been in such a nightmare congestion of muggles in his entire life! Hermione was doing a good job at navigating herself and not bumping into anyone, but Severus and Lucius were having a devil of a time, having to walk through people in order to keep up with her. It made for a very uncomfortable, disorienting experience.
Unwittingly, or perhaps even nefariously planned, she had led them to Severus's version of what hell must surely be. He hated large cities and loathed crowds: the noise, the congestion, the gods-damned smells of the place. If she was still trying to punish them on her muggle holiday, well then she was succeeding marvelously.
Everywhere there was movement: people, cars, flashing signs on buildings all clamoring for attention! It was enough to make his head spin. Severus looked behind him, making sure Lucius was keeping close.
He was.
But whereas Severus was distinctly uncomfortable with the crowds, the crushing madness of humanity surrounding them, Lucius, after his paralyzing moment of disorientation, appeared to be enjoying himself immensely.
His eyes were everywhere, trying to absorb everything and anything he encountered. And Severus tried to look at it from his perspective.
The man had probably never once ventured into the depths of muggle London. Why would he have done? The wizarding world had quite shut itself away from the world of muggles, and Lucius's raising discouraged interaction between the two.
Whereas Severus, through lack of money and exposure, knew vaguely of city life as being dirty and congested, Lucius knew absolutely nothing of it at all. And for being so well-versed and well-traveled abroad to all the wizarding destinations of note, the world, it seemed, still held an element of mystery for the once jaded man.
Severus grinned to himself to see it, only wishing Hermione could witness it as well….
Gods, Hermione!
Quickly, he scanned the area for the little witch, dismayed when he realized he had lost—he saw her curly-haired form disappear around the corner almost a half a block ahead of them. Staying close to the pavements, Severus grabbed hold of Lucius's collar, and yanking, ran to catch up to her.
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Hermione smiled to herself as she sipped her latte. She had done it! She was in New York, specifically the isle of Manhattan. And it was fantastic!
Of all the cities that she had visited abroad with her parents, New York had never made the list. For although her Dad held a deep love for most American rock music, her parents had never desired to come to the States, preferring instead to tour locales with a more ancient flavor: Italy, Peru, South Africa, Greece, Turkey, and Switzerland.
And so, New York was all hers. Her idea. In fact, it didn't even hold the taint of having Michael near it. And so, she could be at peace, at rest here among the tall sky scrapers and constant noise and chaos.
She reached out with that 'sixth sense' of hers to 'see' if both Lucius and Severus had come along . But she could feel nothing. The atmosphere was too frantic, the noise too pervasive, and to quite put the point on it, she was far too keyed up to know if they were even around her or not.
She literally felt herself humming with the vital energy of the city around her.
It was bliss.
Whipping out her cell phone—like every other muggle that seemed to inhabit the place—she began typing with her thumbs, looking for a hotel based on location. She wanted one near Central Park... and she needed one tonight.
There was a hotel a few blocks from here, the Hôtel Plaza Athénée it was called, and she thought it would suit her purposes nicely, but the only trouble was the online service was booked. Well, it wouldn't hurt to go there and see if there was a last minute cancelation, and if there wasn't, then there was always the Holiday Inn.
So thinking, she took a last sip of her truly delicious latte and left, making her way through the hustle and bustling Friday afternoon crowd of New Yorkers going home after the end of a long work week.
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They walked three-abreast again, Severus and Lucius alongside her as she navigated the heavy foot-traffic.
Lucius marveled at her. She blended in so seamlessly with her surroundings, absolutely comfortable in them. And dressed as she was, she looked exactly like a native.
He was slightly disturbed to think that.
The young woman beside him was a witch… and not only a witch, but quite possibly the most intelligent and powerful witch he had ever come across. It was not just anyone that could create and wield a spell of that magnitude and strength as she did this morning.
And she looked full-on muggle.
Lucius was quickly learning that the wizarding world was a very small and isolated place compared to such droves as what surrounded them en masse.
In the sea of muggles amidst them, she did not stand out one bit, and this troubled him for perhaps the muggle filth had been right? Would she be happier as a muggle? Lucius studied her in profile as they walked. Hermione's eyes were bright with excitement; there was an air of vitality about her now, and she looked completely at home in her element.
And he supposed there was an appeal to it, especially for one such as her.
In a city such as this, no one knew her.
No one cared who she was or what she did. And the anonymity of living in such a vast and clamoring place must appeal to her on a basic level. For well Lucius knew how much she hated being treated as a public figure, the wizarding world's 'Gryffindor Princess' as the tattered rag Witch Weekly had dubbed her.
And how they had deified and slandered her name over the years!
Yes. Anonymity would definitely appeal to one such as her. And she was smart and able-bodied enough to walk away from the magical community and make a success in a place like this New York.
Smart enough indeed.
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"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we are currently booking two months in advance."
Severus heard Hermione give a small sigh, and shake her head. "That's alright. It was a long-shot as it was, but I just wanted to check and se—"
"Really, it's ridiculous!" A woman insinuated herself ahead of Hermione as she was standing at the counter, pointedly looking down her nose at her, and then turned to face the clerk. Severus narrowed his eyes as the rude muggle woman began to speak, "I requested Gerolsteiner mineral water specifically be stocked in my room and none but Perrier is to be had. Not to mention the room is facing Southside. I clearly requested east-side facing only. I demand to speak to the Concierge. After all, with how much I'm paying for this room and not to have it to my exact specifications…" She barked a laugh. "It's an outrage!"
Severus studied the odious woman.
Done up and painted in gold from her brassy blond head to her over-bulging, gold-shod feet, the elderly muggle was one of those destined never to be satisfied. He had a particular loathing for the type, having met his fair share during his tenure as both Hogwart's professor and Death Eater. People like her seemed to thrive on the creation of melodrama and the manufacturing of insult.
If only Severus were in his physical form…
Hermione thanked the attendant politely and turned to walk away. Severus caught Lucius's eye as they reluctantly followed.
Lucius shook his head. "She's too polite for her own good, Severus; that's what it comes down to. You or I would have put the odious muggle woman in her place but neatly—" Abruptly, Lucius stopped speaking as they watched Hermione duck behind a large potted fern and draw her wand.
Just what was the little witch doing?
And well Severus now knew that particular spell coming from this particular witch, and he watched as the gold-painted woman blinked dazedly and shook her head. "You know what? I think I'd get better service at the Holiday Inn Manhattan. I would like to check out… if you please." The 'please' seemed to be added as an afterthought.
Both Severus and Lucius looked down at the little witch before them with new eyes and watched as she quickly stowed her wand up her sleeve and stepped away from the potted fern. She blinked, looking around, the very picture of forlorn innocence.
Upon seeing her, the clerk behind the counter quickly rushed to her. "Miss…oh, miss! We've just had a cancellation," the young woman stated breathlessly, beaming at her.
Hermione started, looking aghast. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! I'll take it!" Oh, but they were going to have to work on her reaction of 'fake surprise' if she was ever going to pass muster with a Slytherin.
The other woman laughed. "Splendid! It will be a couple of hours before the room is ready, though." The clerk pulled a face. "We have to clean and clear it of its last occupant," she said as she eyed the retreating figure of the gold whey-faced woman with distaste.
Hermione smiled and thanked her profusely.
"Anytime." The clerk said. "This is one instance I can genuinely say I am happy to be of assistance."
Smiling, Hermione made her way outside of the Ladies Cloakroom, and making certain no one was about, she addressed them. "I know what you both are thinking; that it's an abuse of power, but come on! She really wasn't going to enjoy the room, and I most definitely am…so…" she bit her lip and shrugged. "I mean I'm only here for two days anyway, and that woman certainly looked like she could afford to stay wherever suited her fancy if all that tacky gold lamé is anything to go b—" Severus placed a finger to her lips, and wonder of wonders, she stopped talking.
Her eyes widened, and she gulped. "Right. Rambling." She licked her lips. "Errm, I'll just be a moment." Obviously shaken, she turned her back on them and opened the door.
Meanwhile, Lucius hitched a lone eyebrow as his eyes followed her retreating form. "Either she's getting more attune, or we're getting stronger in our presence."
Severus looked after the closed door, watching it, waiting for her expectantly. Even this little separation was causing him anxiety. He knew it was the edge of the 'hunger' he was experiencing, but the knowing still didn't stop the feeling from occurring. He replied absently, "I believe she is getting better at detecting us. I noticed it this morning that even when she was angry, when she addressed you, she turned towards you instinctively."
He saw Lucius gulp, the blond wizard's hands had balled into fists. And Severus knew it was taking everything for Lucius to stay right where he was and not follow her. He knew because Severus felt the same way. He tried to distract them both. "Still, she addressed us openly, Lucius, and that's the first time she's done so since the car ride this morning when she spoke of her father and that song."
That got Lucius's attention. "That song, Severus! Oh, that bloody song!"
Severus shrugged. "You're the one who professed it to be… what were your exact words…'full of sage advice'?
Severus watched Lucius's eyes narrow, preparing an acid reply when the door opened. "Quiet." Severus quickly ordered, "Here she comes."
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While in the lavatory, Hermione changed into her running clothes. Central Park was literally only a few blocks away, and since she had a couple hours to kill, she was going for a run. She shrank her bag until it was the size of a credit card and zipped it securely in the pocket of her pants. With her wand fastened to the inside of her forearm via a sticking charm that she could shake free should she need it, and hidden by the lightweight long-sleeved top she wore, she was ready to run.
She could have sworn she felt Severus's touch, his fingers on her lips just now. Never had she felt the man's hands on her more so than this week. But then, of course, he obviously couldn't use his tried and true methods of hexing her to silence or replying with an acid comment to get her to leave the room.
So the man had to resort to more physical forms of communication.
Hermione blushed in remembrance and her heartbeat quickened. She had sat on the man's lap…while he talked to her and rocked her gently, soothed her when they were at the nexus. She pursed her lips and shook her head. No, my girl. Not for you. Have you not learned your lesson?! No more men for you! Especially tall, dark, and spyingly sinister.
Well, at any rate, it seemed her crush on her professor was not a thing of the past as she once thought. And it still had the potential to harm her…as this week had so amply proven. Besides, he could have been only trying to comfort her in preparation for dealing with Michael and their situation at hand. It might not have even had anything to do with her. After all, the both of them had made a mockery of her privacy, her thoughts—DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! She scolded herself. YOU'RE IN NEW YORK! ENJOY IT, AND GO FOR YOUR RUN!
So deciding, Hermione occluded her thoughts, stuffing the emotions down deep, put in her earbuds, and turning her music up as loud as she could stand, made her way out of the hotel and towards the entrance to the park.
Oh, but she had always wanted to do this!
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Severus was going to die.
Expire.
Collapse.
Of exhaustion.
He panted.
And looked ahead of him.
Lucius was just barely keeping up with her as she ran.
Just barely.
And Severus was falling behind.
And oh, but she set a punishing pace.
He ran harder to catch up to her. He had to be near her.
He had to!
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The loop was six point one miles, and Hermione was trying to finish in three quarters an hour. It had been a long time since she had set such a goal for herself, and it felt good—damn good if she was honest. Oh, but the park was beautiful, and it felt great to be surrounded by others as driven and like-minded as she.
Briefly, she wondered if Severus or Lucius had accompanied her. She couldn't 'feel' them with her, and to her knowledge, neither man ran. But then again, she wouldn't really know, would she? Both appeared to be physically fit… so they must be doing something right. Looking down at her watch and then at the marker coming up, she poured on more speed.
It was going to be close.
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There was nothing like a younger woman to make Lucius Malfoy feel his age. Gods! But Hermione could run like the wind. He had no idea, none at all when he watched her on that damned machine.
Lucius looked behind him and only just caught the shadow of Severus in the background, trying to keep up with them—with her. He sincerely hoped her stamina had to do with her abundance of energy left after the nexus. If not, gods! It was going to take two of them—Lucius could most definitely see that now. It was going to take the both of them to satisfy the witch. For just one wouldn't do.
Not for Hermione Jean Granger.
Lucius's only encouraging thought on this death march of theirs was that maybe she would tire herself out, burn off her excess energy she felt, and sleep.
Gods, please let her sleep soon!
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"Those are gonna kill ya, ya know?"
Hermione looked up from the cigarette she just lit and deliberately took a drag. She watched as the stranger finished stretching from his run, and pulling out a cigarette himself, lit up.
For her, it was a congratulatory pat on the back. She had finished, shaving a minute ten off her best time.
"Hey, me? I like a woman who's a walkin' …or should I say runnin' contradiction. Puttin' herself through hell on the loop just to paint her lungs with tar." The stranger smiled at her wryly as he continued to smoke.
Smiling around the cigarette, she looked him over. His accent was pure New York, and he looked every bit the native New Yorker—tall, dark, a bit like he could trounce one in a fight. And she supposed he was cute enough in his own way… built as he was like Michael. At the thought, her eyes instantly narrowed to slits.
She shrugged. "We've all got to die some day," And taking a last drag of the cigarette she held, tossed it and out the butt.
His eyes widened. "Ah, God! But you're British! Gotta love the accent of a British girl! You girls can make anythin' sound classy and refined. Go ahead, say somethin' vulga." His eyes dared her.
Hermione laughed in spite of herself and shook her head. "Well, you obviously like women—"
"Love 'em, lady. Say, hows 'bout I treat you to dinna and a show in Little Italy. I know the sweetest little Italian join—"
She held up her hand, heading him off at the pass and shook her head. "As I was saying, it's obvious you like women… and so do I." She grinned toothily , wagging her eyebrows. "What's the old adage: the area between a lady's arse and her quim is a chin rest?"
Smiling, she gave him a three-fingered salute and ran on to his startled bark of laughter.
She heard him yell after her, "I'm in love with ya, lady!
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"Severus, we're going to have to do something. This can't go on."
Lucius was currently lying prone, listening intently as Hermione finished getting ready for her evening out. They were situated in a posh suite with luxurious muggle amenities—even better than that of the last hotel. But the suite's primary feature was the gloriously decadent bed standing floor center before the floor to ceiling view of the skyline below.
It was the bed that Hermione would not be using any time soon.
Severus had caught up to them just as the muggle in the park asked her to 'say somethin' vulga', in a more gods-awful accent that Lucius had never encountered. Was he even speaking English?
And Hermione had quipped back with such wickedness!
They had taken the scenic route back to the hotel, going through a part of the park known as 'Strawberry Fields'. It was, as Hermione quietly explained to them on the way there, a war memorial of sorts dedicated to a man who had given his life and his art for world peace: a muggle musician by the name of John Lennon. They did not linger there, however, and Lucius thought he knew why.
The place was quiet… as quiet as an isolated section within a great city could be. And quiet was the antithesis of what she needed— what she wanted right now.
Distraction, it seemed, was the name of Hermione's game.
"Have you noticed she is no longer angry with us?" Lucius asked as he looked up from his position on the bed.
Severus had his hands above the frame of the door leading to the bathroom, torturing himself to Lucius's mind, with thoughts of her naked self on the other side. The both of them were physically bereft of her company.
Severus didn't even look up as he stated wearily, "Yes. She's occluding all her emotion and thoughts concerning us and the bastard. It seems she made a decision to make her holiday into a real one and avoid thinking about any unpleasantries."
"Hmm, yes." Lucius rose from the bed and went to stand near his brother. "And as such completely ignore her thoughts concerning us, and thereby avoid the conflicting emotion she feels." Lucius groaned. "At this point, Severus, she's got to realize she feels something for us?" Lucius asked a bit desperately.
Severus only shook his head, continuing to stare down at the floor. "Her power lies in intellect, not in heart. She doesn't trust herself, and this week has given her ample enough reason to doubt herself further. She's also quite thoroughly divorced from the emotion she feels… at my prompting no less."
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So occlude it away, Ms. Granger. Isolate and sever the emotion you're experiencing from the thoughts you have. Emotion is of no use to you; you need to be precisely focused on the objective you're aiming to achieve.
Severus could really kick himself for telling her those words. Her objective now was simple: to run. Both literally and metaphorically. Severus said aloud, "I do hope you're not still harboring under the delusion that she will invite us to share her bed and thereby break this curse. If you are, I think you are bound for disappointment."
Lucius snorted, absently perusing the pamphlets lying on the table nearest him. "No, mon frère, I hold out no such hope, but gods, we just need her to go to sleep!"
Right as he said it, the bathroom door opened and Hermione appeared, her hair a riotous mane of curls, a bit of eye kohl and lipstick accentuating her features nicely. She was dressed casually-chic in tight, black-fitting muggle trousers that accentuated her feminine shape, a slithery silver top that did much to accentuate her charms, and as an afterthought, she summoned a black jacket from the depths of her beaded bag and placed it on the bed to grab on her way out the door. As both of them watched, she donned her boots, putting them on one at a time using the edge of the mirrored dresser as a prop. And as she did so, her arse was put on prominent display for both men to admire.
Severus's breathing stilled.
Unable to resist, he walked over to her, and inhaling her scent, placed his hand proprietarily on the exposed bit of flesh at her hip where the slithery little top rode up the slightest bit.
She stilled, straightening from her bent position.
Lucius too made his way over to her and, bending slightly, placed his nose nearest her neck, breathing in behind her ear. "Is this where you place your scent, dearest?" he asked quietly.
Her breathing quickened.
Groaning aloud, Lucius nuzzled at her neck, and Severus could see the gooseflesh rising from where he nuzzled all the way down from her exposed clavicle to her bared arms. Severus bent forward and kissed the other side of her neck, ghosting his hands down the curvature of her waist until she was fully held in his phantom's embrace.
She swayed, moaning, almost falling forwards but for the edge of the dresser that caught her at the hip.
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A/N: And this is my grande finale of sorts, dear readers: an 'Updating Bonanza' if you will. This will be my last A/N until the end as this little tale of mine will be complete and available for you to finish reading tonight! I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone? As always, this authoress adores hearing from her readers, and would sincerely love to know what you think.
So, do drop me a line, won't you?
xxkattiaxx
