Chapter Six

"You knew you were in no shape to continue. Why in Merlin's name would you push yourself?" Hermione had to clasp her hands at her sides to keep from throttling Malfoy. The aroma of sordid air and white ash wafted off of Malfoy's wounds making Hermione's nose twitch and itch as the initial smell of urban decay rapidly dissipated. She wondered now how a truly pure soul would smell and decided to mentally document this moment for further research once back at home.

"Your timing is impeccable as always," he hissed through clenched teeth, "and as much as I enjoy a spirited tongue lashing as much as the next bloke, perhaps this discussion could be tabled for the time being?"

"It is absolutely the wrong time to have this conversation but I demand to know what you could be thinking of!" She barked angrily although she knew he did have a rather pressing point about timing and all that nonsense.

"Later."

"No. Right now."

Deciding to take a more sympathetic approach, Malfoy switched from hissing snake to wounded kitten. He practically mewled, "Granger, I'm in pain". He swept a lazy hand over his entire person to indicate that he did in fact hurt everywhere.

"And apparently you have been for some time. Taking five minutes to explain yourself won't make much of a difference. I'm sick of being in the dark! Besides, you're in pain not dying,"she snapped. Hermione may have been a bleeding heart but she knew when she was being put on and it infuriated her to no end.

"I never knew you could be so cruel. What would the Weasels think if they heard you?" he asked before looking at her stonewalled face and sighing, "Fine. Every second you stay in the forest, your connection to the near shore gets weaker. I can't afford to have your death on my record. I'm carrying quite enough sins as it is."

"The near shore?"

"Where we come from. The land of the living. We are in Indrik's Purgatory right now. The final death trap before a soul reaches the far shore or the spirit land."

"What does any of this have to do with my death?"

"Quite hilarious that that's your second question. Absolutely no self preservation skills in you, brightest witch. We'll teach you yet". He managed a sweaty smirk that lacked the normal potency.

"I'd think you'd be glad of that fact, otherwise you wouldn't be alive," she shot back. Hermione grimaced as soon as the words charged out of her mouth. Malfoy looked away from her face before breathing in deeply as if in preparation for a great oratorical display. He opened his mouth and Hermione waited silently, wondering at his reply. He closed his mouth and shook his head as if to rid himself of his original thoughts and then he opened his mouth to try again. Hermione studied his face and wonders what he means to say before his expression darkens.

With the look of a man who has never witnessed a rainbow after a storm, Malfoy responds,"I am in your debt again Granger. Let me repay it."

She only stared at him like one does with a particulary stupid person. "Yes, of course. You want information."

"I bloody well do!" In response, Malfoy's lips quirked in what could be loosely classified as a small, genuine smile and Hermione felt as if she'd missed something.

"As I said, souls cannot linger in the forest for too long. You are both spirit and body so I can only guess at what this forest is doing to you. If I can get you to the far shore, you'll be protected," he whispered before adding "At least for a time."

"Stop being cagey. Full honesty, remember?"

"I've told you all I can be sure of. I don't work in half cocked assumptions unlike your lot. Who jumps into another world without having any idea what they're getting themselves into?" Malfoy wiped his mouth reflexively as though he'd swallowed something fowl.

"So we just need to get to the far shore. Is that the town you were speaking of?"

"There is no "we" anymore. As you've so callously pointed out, I'm in no condition to continue on," he gritted his teeth once again as though he were about to say something truly unpleasant, "I give you permission to view my memories and find the appropriate path to the Town of the Far Shore. I'm too weak to relay the directions just now."

"You're truly an imbecile if you think I'm going on without you."

"Stuff the loyalty in your shirt Granger. Do the spell and be done with it. I tire of this conversation." His voice was taut like a silken strand preparing to snap.

Ignoring him completely, Hermione waved her wand in front of his rotting chest. "Episkey!" she shouted. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. She knew that was a long shot.

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. She thought back to her miniscule healer training and produced another spell, "Reparifors!" She watched as the sores on his body began repairing themselves and she smiled gleefully. She glanced at Malfoy's face which was tight with frustration. She raised her wand to produce the spell again, with more force to fully close the wounds, when she noticed the tissue had slowly stopped knitting itself back together and was in fact beginning to unravel and rot again.

At her stunned expression, Malfoy chuckled darkly. "If I thought that would have worked, I would have been the first to suggest it. I'm not a masochist at least not in the ways you'd think." Hermione decided to once again file that comment away for later. Priorities.

"I don't understand!" she panicked as she began producing the spell with more and more fervor. Hermione felt her skin dampen with the exertion and she felt on the verge of collapse or tears. She raised her wand again, determined that her pronunciation must be off, when she felt a clammy hand on her wrist. She looked over to see Malfoy's steel eyes grounding her with a look a father would give an adorably wayward child. He shook his head slightly and gestured tiredly towards his skull. When she began to sniffle, he smirked slightly before closing his eyes like a bolt locked door. It was at that moment that she realized she was crying. This was the second time in as many months that she found herself crying for him. She sniffled and rubbed furiously at her eyes.

"Tears for me, brightest witch?" he whispered in surprise. His eyes were still locked tight and he had a painfully trembling chest. "Perhaps there is hope for me yet. I am well aware that you don't waste valuable kindness on those who don't expressly deserve it."

"Will getting to the far shore help you recover?" she asked hopefully. She couldn't let him drift away again. She'd taken him into her responsibility from the moment she'd saved his obituary photo and letting him go was like letting go of SPEW. It could not be borne.

"No, my body has been severely defiled whilst in purgatory. I cannot pass the barrier into town."

"Can I absolve you again?" she asked hysterically.

"Not for this. These pains aren't a result of my sins. They are the result of being corrupted by unclean spirits."

"Ritual cleansing?" she asked as a sense of unease spread down her fingers.

"My but you catch on fast." he drawled.

"Your winning personality continues to shine even in the darkest of hours Malfoy."

"I am cursed to be incredibly charming. A family trait," his lip was dampened with unwashed sweat as he attempted to drawl out his response.

"Tell me what to do and I won't pester you about why you didn't mention cleansing in the first place."

"A miscast ritual will kill you and I'll still have your death on my record. I knew I was never leaving this place. I can handle my own affairs. Get on with the legilimency," he hissed.

"Tell me what to do."

"I have determined the course of action that suits me best and there's nothing worse than a meddler. I decide how I go... at least allow me that much autonomy."

Her face, her tiny hands did not waver. "You would deny me." His astonishment came out like an unrepentant fact written in blood. His ears twitched as if hearing the whisper of rain against the shell of his ear for the first time. The idea of no was a singularly novel one.

"Tell me what to do," Hermione repeated calmly. Malfoy opened his eyes and stared her down. She met his stare and refused to turn away. Finally, he exhaled in defeat and looked away from her wooden eyes.

"Bury me and burn me," he muttered. Hermione blinked owlishly at him.

"Only a truly pure soul can cleanse a defiled one which can be a bit of a pickle if that helper isn't completely pure. You'll be devoured by the same scourge that has taken me if you aren't completely untainted, albeit significantly more slowly. Last chance to change your mind. Sure you're clean enough?"

"Procedurals?"

"The triumvirate: air, fire and soil. Rub dried earth into my sores, blow air into my mouth, then bury me in a hole and set it on fire. Won't it hurt." Hermione quirks an eyebrow. " Fine. Yes, of course it will hurt."

"How will I know that it is complete?"

"When I crawl out or disintegrate I suppose."

Hermione brushed away the blankets of leaves and twigs covering the ground around them to reveal the powdery brown dirt fermenting beneath. "What is the soil made of? It glints oddily when it hits the light just so."

"Decaying souls don't disappear. Everything has its purpose. This soil, those branches even those leaves are remnants of a life completed. One day this soil, this place will bring forth new life and new bodies. The life cycle will not end but it explains why they don't say much." Malfoy gestured towards the castoff branches and foliage surrounding them. "Too busy being a broken twig and all that rot."

"Walk me through this."

"So eager to learn," His hand rose up toward her cheek before falling back to his side. Her cheeks reddened as she looked over his shoulder at honestly anything that wasn't him.

"First, dig me a grave," he commanded and she instantly envisions herself in a dirty pillowcase bowing at his feet. "I must be interred to be reborn clean."

"Dig it yourself."

"Unclean, remember?" he smirked and she knew he was starting to enjoy ordering her about despite the circumstances. "I cannot participate in this ritual. It is on your shoulders, brightest witch."

"Right," her leg jiggled furiously and she placed her hand on her knee to stop the shaking. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this."

"You managed to make a miracle out of those two mumpdungs you call friends. If anyone can pull this off it's you."

"Don't." she seethed.

"I have never doubted your stubborn capability, brightest witch," he replies soberly.

"Oh for Merlin's sake stop calling me that."

"Never my brightest witch. Not when it annoys you so." She pretended to not hear the "my". What in holy hell does that mean?

Hermione dug the grave with a conjured spade. He insisted that a magically dug grave would not satisfy the ritual. She caught him smirking up at her sweaty face and arms and wondered: how many lies he tells on a daily basis?

Soon, the defiled man became too frail to speak or even grunt in pain. His sores smelled more strongly of putrescence and cloying despair. Malfoy was clipped to consciousness by a thin, wavering string stretched beyond its limits. Hermione began digging with the ferocity of a treasure hunter stumbling upon the pulsing holy grail. Her fingers locked and cramped as she threw her body into her work. With her headspace clear of all distractions, she ignored her tattered hands until a rough valley has been formed near Malfoy's body.

She performed a weightless charm on his frail frame and lifted him like a precious glass sculpture too delicate to even tip to the side. She dropped him rather clumsily into the crude hole when her concentration abruptly broke. Her heart panted heavily and her hands were trembling. She had the grace of a newborn fowl. He glared at her and she glared back in shame.

Once settled, he twists and turns weakly to find a more comfortable position before nodding to himself, satisfied with his work. His steel smooth eyes turned towards her again and she felt as if he were clawing into her very soul with his boundless gaze. Finally, he retracted his sharp eyes from her, shutting them softly as though going down for an afternoon nap. A tear tracks down her face; the stillness cupping them together was too tight.

He braced his fists over his chest, before exhaling deeply while hollowing out his cheeks as though allowing his very spirit to seep out through his nostrils into his makeshift coffin. She had never seen anything more horrifyingly beautiful and yet so utterly grotesque. A gothic beauty. She realized with a sharp exhale of her own that she loved him...in a completely cosmic, we are the world, we are the children sort of way.

With the cloudless sky casting shadows over Malfoy's face giving him the appearance of a hollowed corpse, Hermione stumbled forward then reached down to grab him by the back of the neck. Pulling in all of her magic, all of her fears and all of her hopes into one single breath, Hermione gently nudges his mouth open before forcing all of it into his tattered body. She pulled back in time for him to clamp his mouth shut as though savoring a fine red on his palate. His head jiggled slightly to indicate that he was ready and she deposited the upturned earth she had previously tilled over him. Hermione shook away the ironic thought that she and only she would bear witness to the purging of Malfoy's tattered soul. He would reemerge baptized from a purging fire. Clean.

A stalwart priestess coaxing the excess decay from a stubborn vessel, Hermione murmurs incendio over the funeral pyre watching the flames bubble and snap at the interred earth. The defilements began wisping up like steam from the ground as the fire traveled deep into the earth. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as the fire burrowed deep into the ground. Malfoy's inhumane screams attacked her ears and she dug her nails into her sides. She recognizes his shrieks as a muddy melody that could only be deciphered by her. Her mind is clogged with the heady meaning of his nonsense words as her own screams fasten to his; schoolhouse bully and victim chanting a binding hymnal of sorrow and regret.


Thank you for reading! I am currently revising the first chapters for clarity and syntax and all that, but it shouldn't majorly change anything in the plot! I am beta-less so please excuse my errors while I work on this! Also the concept of the near/far shore is completely stolen from my favorite anime, Noragami. I hope you all are staying safe and socially distant. Thinking of you all during this time and hope my story can help take your mind off of things for a few moments as so many of your stories have done for me 3