It didn't feel right. Nothing felt right ever since Draco had passed out.
It was dark in the hospital wing, so dark that the only thing she was able to see was the two blondes' whitewashed head. Narcissa sat in front of her, her vibrant, azure eyes empty while her hand laid on the over-washed, greyed sheets. Draco hadn't moved an inch for two days now.
"You silly, silly children," Narcissa mumbled while tilting her head to gain better sight of the two, however it was little she could actually see. Her eyes automatically spotted the marred skin on his son's left forearm. She sighed, shaking her head from side to side, "You really shouldn't have."
Hermione anxiously moistened her lips, "He wanted me to help him with this. I warned him about the pain, but he was careless." Even Hermione was shaken how easily the words slipped from her lips, even though her voice was hoarse and guttural.
Narcissa cracked a fragile smile at her, "That's just like him."
She shifted when under the scrutinizing eyes, her thumb, which rubbed the top of Draco's right hand, froze, "I need to ask you something, Narcissa."
The matriarch just simply and very unladylikely shrugged, her head immediately turned back towards her son. She didn't even pretend she cared.
Hermione took it as a permission, "Maroon or blue?"
That simple question seemed to perk up the sleep-deprived wife's attention, "Pardon?"
"You heard me," she stated and after a moment, she resumed back to fiddling with Draco's extremely big hand. His palm was soft, while the skin was rough on his knuckles and so pale that it looked like it was actually lightning in the darkness, "Just about colours?" she shrugged half-heartedly, trying to conceal her nervousness, "What are your thoughts about them? About maroon and blue, I mean."
Even if Narcissa thought it was a strange question, she answered with seriousness, melancholy latched in her soft, calming voice as she wrapped the cruel words into eloquent sentences, "I think… maroon is the colour of dried blood." To that, Hermione shivered, "Probably been split for days, that kind of colour is maroon. It suggests death, torture and hopelessness, for me, at least." Maybe, this would freak out any sane person, but Hermione – by now – was definitely not one of those. Besides, Mrs. Malfoy's words could be understandable; she was a veteran, she survived two wars, basically unscathed. Only her entire family minded both times.
She quickly gulped down her nerves, lest Narcissa would catch on it, "And blue? What does it remind you?"
If she ever hoped to receive something not bothering to the soul… well, it was a foolish hope. Narcissa spoke without little consideration, slashing in the silence with ease, "Blue as a very deep lake, frosty, too, full of seaweed and without much creatures. Cruel. And so deep that you can drown in it, should you ever give onto the temptation to jump… Even if it was just for fun." Hermione could see as her navy eyes widened and became haunted at that very moment. "Probably that kind of blue would pull you down, until you drown."
Hermione's mouth fell open at that, she felt her heart-race quicken and her fingers twitched around Draco's cold hand, "My thoughts exactly."
She knew about the days passing, felt herself getting gradually weaker after each and every hour, but she was determined enough not to give onto temptation. That lake didn't feel right, the process of drowning sounded a lot worse than the actual death's promise. Being dead seemed easier than dying.
So she held onto hope, she held onto Draco's hand and listened to the nocturnes, playing in her head, humming along the melody. She knew she was slowly going insane, of course she knew that! She was well aware of that development, but she just kept on going forward, without resting, without napping to get Draco to wake.
Was he willing to take risks? To lose the chance of her love?
She never got answers when she needed those the most.
There was time when she cried – so hard that her sobs echoed in the hospital wing. There was time when she just sat there, void and without emotions, staring down at the seemingly inert body of the man she loved. But she never ever did give up.
Not even McGonagall's firm command was able to drag her out of the hospital wing for more than a lunch and/or a quick shower, so she didn't understand why Pansy even tried. This time, when she came, Hermione was laughing.
Why was she laughing?
Simple.
Pansy Parkinson wouldn't really have been able to endure her hysterical sobs without starting on it herself, so she ended up suppressing it with harsh laughter, that too, sounded hysterical, but was worn so much better than the enormous tears rolling down on her cheeks.
"Hermione?" she approached cautiously, perplexed by her current and quite sudden mirth. She, thankfully, didn't catch on the poor role she forced herself into. "You should come with me, Hermione. It's lunch break."
The deputy Head Girl smiled wryly, her hands covering the trails that the tears left on her skin, "Just after you answer a question," she bargained with strained vocal chords.
Pansy was silent for a moment, "Alright, I guess." She didn't need to see her to know she was pouting in dismay at that proposal – but that didn't stop Hermione from asking the very same question she shot at Narcissa.
The true Queen of Slytherin coughed awkwardly, "I don't really know why you should ask something like this, those are just colours! But, I guess, I'm with blue."
Hermione sank her teeth in her lower lip in thought, "Why?"
"It reminds me of the night sky. It's beautiful!" The war heroine could hear the dreams and adoration in her capturing and alluring voice. She was tempted to close her eyes and sleep while listening to it. "I love all the constellations and the stars are like gems in the darkness. Seems like they are another reality, frankly. It's romantic – but there's so much more into it than that simple word. I adore the upper world."
To that, Hermione looked down on her own body, hugged around by her weak – only functioning – arm, the tattoos that curled over her skin: Scorpius on her thigh, Cassiopeia across her belly, Taurus in between her shoulder blades, the Canis Major on her right calf, Corvus on her neck, just reaching her collarbone and she felt the burning presence of Draco's constellation on her left cheekbone.
She heaved out a strangely calm breath, "Why not maroon though?"
"It's like you, you bloody, reckless Gryffindors."
She didn't need to look at Pansy to know she was sneering at her. It was enough to hear her condescending tone. Maybe, that's why she couldn't stop releasing a genuine laugh – the first in the last three days.
After hours – maybe just a few, six, or maybe more, after twelve or so hours – without eating anything, she felt weightless, dazed and blinked down at Draco with emptiness in her hazel eyes. She didn't want anyone there, she didn't need anyone there. Though, she never said no to Neville, who simply lifted her in his arms. He brought her down from the hundreds of winding staircases, sneaked out of the castle to the Forbidden Forest and placed her in front of her beloved unicorn.
Sadness was easy to read in Selene's eyes. Hermione didn't know why she was that bothered, but she tried easing her pain, comforting her and humming the same melody that always played in her head. The unicorn's presence was liberating, she organized her messy thoughts, erased unnecessary future scenarios that scared her to the core and made her believe in something positive.
She saw beautiful things, overwhelmingly real things just behind her eyelids and it was all the unicorn's doing. Those touching pictures were enough to make her relax, forget about her problems, her impending death, about Draco and her feelings towards him. It was pure blessing.
Are you willing to lose the chance of my love?
She really hoped he wasn't.
"Thank you," she muttered; her forehead against Selene's neck as she listened to the enormous creature's calming, slow heartbeats, the way the muscles eased in her body and cherished her hot exhales that stopped her from shivering.
Everything was covered in white. And everything screamed at her: she should not be here. Her place was right next to Draco, she knew that much. Are you willing to lose the chance? That he wouldn't wake.
She shook her head in denial to stop the annoying record. The lullaby was better. It quietened down the hammering thoughts that kept ricocheting in her head. It was a way better.
"I need to ask you something," she muttered and heard an encouraging nickering. She smiled against the thick fur, enjoying the softness – like a plush pony. "Maroon or blue?"
The images that flashed in her head promptly caused her a head ache. She felt like her skull would explode – it was intense, so sudden and came when she was entirely unprepared with the well-known question. Blood, bones, glinting metals, quills and potions, fashionable robes and magical creatures – they were all in her brain for a passing moment. She started smelling different scents with those, oil, gardenias, petrichor, fruits, coffee and something really clean.
It felt mixed – pictures didn't belong to the right scents, to the right sounds and it was like a puzzle with a thousand pieces.
And just like that, it ended. It was cruel – she gave it to her in a silver platter, but took away all of it before she could have nicked the taste of victory.
Selene planted ideas, opportunities, futures in her head, but those didn't show her enough to know which the right colour was. It was confusing, even though it was a simple question: she got answers for and against both, but not the one that she was interested to hear. She wanted to know which one would keep her alive – which version of Vindico Parea was the right.
She had seven more days to decide. And the time was ticking – alarmingly fast.
It was the fifth day. The hand in hers didn't look so pale anymore, it didn't feel dead and she was thrilled by the tiny changes in his state. But, during the process, she all but forgot that she lost one more day – now, Hermione only had six more days, if she were not mistaken. And there was still a chance that she, in fact, was.
It was dawn now. The sun had just started rising and its sharp pink and orange colours gave faint glow to the room, even though the pale softness that cuddled her form and kept her warm. She was perched on her usual chair, her hair in a messy bun, her shirt crumpled and she felt utterly worn out. So ugly and careless, worried and unbothered by all that.
Hermione Granger had also lost weight in the last five days, too. Seeing her boney shoulders and spider like fingers, Pansy kept nudging her to food which she expectantly refused, stubbornly attaching herself to the hospital wing, right next to Draco because was she willing to lose that much? And above all, was she willing to lose him?
And what was the worst, she was still undecided. Her mind kept playing games with her, when she felt settled on maroon, she, of course, immediately got a new reason why she should chose blue after all, and vice versa. It was maddening.
She turned to Draco's pale form, unkempt silver locks and to those, striking, closed eyes while her thumb kept rubbing his skin as she murmured, "What do you think about colours, Draco?" Her voice was even strange for herself, shaky and forceless, so weak and quiet, "You never told me your favourite. Which you liked the best out of all. I would remember," she promised, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I would remember you answer if you ever gave me one."
Broken. So utterly broken – in shards, tiny pieces and just faintly there, balancing on the edge of insanity and hopelessness. She was definitely not okay, she kept playing, Merlin, did she try to give up, but it would have felt not right – like cheating. Because being dead was easier than dying.
"Answer me somehow," she pleaded, her nails sinking in his skin as she held onto him, fearing to let go, because without that connection, she would be alone, "Answer me Draco, please."
It was helpless. She was helpless.
"Please."
It was so faint that at first, she thought, she just imagined it. When it happened the second time though, she decided she must be sure of it! She carefully, unsurely backed away from the laying figure, owlishly blinking down at him, utterly bewildered when facing those tired, quicksilver eyes.
She tested it yet again – squeezed his hand. And he did it again, too! He squeezed back!
When seeing her utterly amazed expression, he cracked a smile – careful and with hidden pain under the mask, but still, it was a smile and it was enough to assure Hermione: he was real, he was there and she should not fear anything anymore. He wasn't willing to lose the chance! He was alive!
Her heart thumped with vigour and her hands shook and her eyes blurred and her mind shut down. She was all just raw emotions, everything but sense and so overwhelmed that she cried out in mirth. Hermione felt the lump in her throat, she felt light-headed and she felt so much in the very same moment: relief, fury and happiness, above all.
"You're really here!" she panted in excitement.
She could feel his heartbeat under her palms as she checked him, her fingers running around his arms, above his ribcage and stroked his neck as she told him how much she missed him, how very much she would not be able to live without him and love another.
The words stumbled out of her lips without any effort, surprising even herself with her eased confessions. She felt like her heart beat like drums in a concert – in contrary, he felt like his frozen in action.
Their eyes locked – both just realizing what Hermione had said. It was a moment of silence, of uncertainty mixed with shame and embarrassing waiting for the other's reaction. Draco stared at the brown mess beside his bed as he stared at her with unblinking eyes, from up to down and all the way back. He gulped – and their hearts beat together.
And then, those carefully constructed dams just simply broke down. There was no going back from this point.
If you ever experienced struggle... well, this was a hard chapter. Also, don't be shy, share your thoughts with me - every author is eager to know what you think! It's always a joy to get to know more ways to look at your own stories!
Also, I recently shared a new story, it's actually a one-shot series called Dark Chocolate (which is a one-shot collection for days when you have nothing better to do. Dark chocolate is always bitter, but still a delicious treat - so are the stories in this series. Twisted humour, sweetened aghast and romance, more than skin-deep. Or drabbles that are raw, eerie and edgy. Mostly Dramione, various pairings and AUs.)- check it out if you're interested, it starts with a Hansy story, but there's going to be a dramione up soon, too! :)
My other dramione - Let's play dumb, which is a travelling AU - is dragging because welp, you call that monster school. Sadly, it knocked over my writing schedule - not just my life.
Before I forget, you can also find me on tumblr: aischenna dot tumblr dot com. Just saying. ;D