Chapter 40 – It's Very Easy to Take More Than Nothing
A/N: See post A/N. No beta – all mistakes are my own!
Hermione practically levitated off the ground and flew at Draco, an odd mixture between a shriek and growl emitting from her throat. He let out a startled oompf as their bodies collided and toppled into the dirt. Her hands probed frantically, touching every inch she could reach, making absolutely sure he was truly real and unharmed.
"I'll take that as a yes." He snarked, clearly content to let her fingers dance around his face.
"We are never doing that again!" she declared, her eyes narrowing as she took in his grin, "Bloody Cerridwen and these terrifying rituals. I thought I had lost you!"
Feeling the sting of hot tears in her eyes, her arms snaked around his neck in a bone-crushing hug and her face burrowed into the crook of his neck. She gave a loud sniff as he rubbed gentle circles on her back and made soothing sounds. She took comfort in the slight scratch of his facial hair brushing against her temples. If there had ever been a doubt in her mind about her feelings for him, they had evaporated just as quickly as the sunlight cracking the ritual line apart. He was solid beneath her and the protection she found in his encompassing arms felt like a breath of fresh air. She could have stayed there for the remainder of her days and be completely satisfied. She felt his hand shift and tap gently on her cheek.
"As enjoyable as it is to be stuck under a gorgeous witch," he grinned slyly, "Cerridwen put me through the ringer and I am exhausted. Rain check Granger?"
Hermione blinked before shoving off him in a spectacularly fast fashion, a blush flaming across her face. It had completely escaped her notice that she had stretched herself over Draco Malfoy like some leisurely cat, rubbing her face against his. Made even more embarrassing when she remembered that both of them were still completely nude under the ritual robes. Only a thin layer of fabric separated them. Several explicit images flashed across her eyes and Hermione thought she might spontaneously combust from the heat radiating from her face. Draco gave a knowing cough, effectively stopping the nearly pornographic mental train circling the tracks of her mind.
"Yes!" she cleared her throat just a little too forcefully, "Let's get some rest and we'll talk later."
He gave a decidedly out of character snort as her poor performance of indifference. Then his eyes widened as the site of natural destruction surrounding them, the ritual tools scattered carelessly. He gave her an incredulous look before shaking his head.
"It seems we have MUCH to talk about." He directed, his expression turning serious as he reached out a hand towards her, "The entire world has shifted."
Hermione was practically vibrating with her need to know what Draco had encountered in that ether world. A place where he had come face to face with Cerridwen. He had acknowledged that the ritual had been successful, but he refused to speak any further on the manner til he had a full belly and some rest. She understood but her overactive mind overrode her need to sleep, despite having been up for the entire night. She could feel the exhaustion creeping through her muscles, but she required answers! Grunting in frustration, she whirled towards the kitchen and flicked an antsy finger at the kettle. She gave a squeak of surprise when the flame roared up briefly before tempering down. Merlin help me, she groaned internally. Maybe a cup of chamomile or lemon balm tea might soothe her jumpy nerves. She tapped her fingers nervously upon the kitchen counter, huffing impatiently.
Several hours later, the soft click of a door latch abruptly woke her from a fitful sleep. Her fatigue had finally managed to catch up with her and she had collapsed onto the couch with an exasperated groan. However, her anxiety caused her to wake every half hour or so, eyes darting around apprehensively for any movement. Sitting up slowly, she watched as Draco crept out the door and into the glow of the dying sun. She hadn't realized an entire day had slipped by since the ritual. It felt like a lifetime ago. She padded after him, grabbing a light cloak from nearby.
Shutting the door behind her with a gentle click, her eyes flicked around the property before finding him standing at the garden's edge. He was crouched down, checking their fall plantings methodically. She smiled softly. She had known his talent for potions, but the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was an avid gardener gave him a very human-like quality. His eyes lifted, stormy gray and widely expressive, even from across the yard. He beckoned her over with a dirt-stained hand.
"You know." He began, standing upright while uncharacteristically wiping his hand on his trousers as she approached, "If we ever survive this, I think I'd like to start a garden like this but magical in nature. For potions you know."
Hermione had to stop herself from gasping. She had not missed his use of "we". She wondered if he'd want to start that garden with her. She gave him a wide grin.
"I think that is a wonderful idea Draco." She offered, stopping by his side and idly inspected the squash plant before him.
He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. Tilting her head towards him, she frowned slightly.
"If you need more time…" she started.
"No." he replied with some force, "There isn't time for that and I can't wear the burden that Cerridwen has given me alone. Come with me."
He reached down and took her hand in his, his fingers curling between hers. His touch felt like an electric current that raced through her. She wasn't sure what surprised her more: the facts that she was holding hands with the wizard that had once called her "Mudblood" or the fact that it felt like the most natural thing she had ever done in her life. It felt as natural as breathing. Her heart stuttered as she looked into those eyes of his. Furrowing her brow, she noticed they looked different. Something swirled deep with the gray of his iris, like tiny streaks of blue and purple while something sparkled deep within his pupils. These eyes terrified her. They were terrible and haunting but felt awfully familiar all the same.
"Draco, your eyes…" she trailed off, reaching up with her free hand to trace the outline of those strange orbs.
"I know and I promise I'll tell you." He breathed out, touching her hand with his before he pulled her towards the gazebo.
Once inside, he settled them on the shared bench, angling towards her. Noticing the chilled air, Hermione conjured some flames, this time without incident. He recaptured both her hands and Hermione felt a sense of foreboding. Not particularly ominous, but definitely earth-shattering in its importance. She was still lost in the unexplainable phenomena of his eyes. She wondered how she had missed them beforehand. He gave her hands a small squeeze, requesting her full attention.
Almost two hours later, tears streamed down Hermione's face. Her heart was absolutely shattered for him. To relive a person's deepest fears and painful trauma was unspeakable enough, but to do it willingly? She cried even harder at the thought. Lurking deep below, she was also cursing Cerridwen. Hermione would have never asked for such a task. How dare Cerridwen root inside her mind and literally commit mental, and to some extent, physical torture on Draco. That made Cerridwen no better than Bellatrix in her opinion.
Chew on that you ghastly swamp tart, she mentally snapped at Cerridwen.
She would never expect Harry or Ron, her most dear friends in the world, or anyone else she cared for to complete such a trial. Lastly, she was some shade of furious that Draco would decide to accept this ridiculous test.
"I can't believe you would agree to such a thing!" she cried, not sure if it was relief or irritation that coated her words, "What if something had happened to you?"
"Yes, it was rather Gryffindor of me," He replied crisply, "but as you can plainly see, I'm fine."
Hermione whipped her head up, giving him a withering glare followed by a loud sniff.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy," she snapped, "If you think some ridiculous attempt at Gryffindor bashing humor is going to put me off how much danger you were in, I promise another repeat of 3rd Year."
He chuckled lightly, holding his hands up in supplication.
"I don't fancy getting smacked by a bushy-haired know-it-all a second time." He smirked, "Although, I believe right now I carry the unofficial title of know-it-all for the moment."
His words abruptly stilled her internal raging. What in Circe's name was he going on about? She gave him a blank stare as the tears finally slowed their descent.
"Cerridwen gave me a parting gift." He spoke simply, turning his unnerving gaze full on her, "Along with something else."
She shivered at the intensity of his stare. Willing herself to not look away, she fixed her eyes upon his. It felt as if he was looking through her, at her, and beyond her – all simultaneously. With a breathless gasp, she understood exactly what he had been hinting at. His was the eyes of someone who had seen too much. Had lived many eons. Had witnessed the triumphs and atrocities of both man and beast. Someone who had witnessed the birth of time itself. She rapidly became lost in them, drowned in them. She noticed flashes of deep red and bursts of blinding orange edging the whirls of blues mixed within the gray matter. Familiarity streaked across the crests of her mind and she drew back promptly, creating as much space between them.
"She gave it all to you." She whispered reverently, "The knowledge of all that was, all that is, and all that is to be."
She dragged a trembling hand to her mouth as her tears abruptly ceased. She felt cold at the sight of him. All the wisdom to be held and he was sitting as if there were not a care in the single world. Was this her Draco? Or was this something else? She thought briefly of King Midas and his quest for riches or Icarus and his dreams of flight – was this being before her a former shell of the wizard she had grown to care for or was it something much more sinister?
The tips of her fingers curled against her lips, the fingernails pressing crescent shapes into the delicate flesh. He gave a terribly slow nod, as if the motion pained him. Those strange eyes grew misty as his hands dropped and made their way deftly to her own shocked pair – still covering her equally stunned expression. She became frightened of those hands as they creeped closer and she panicked, desperately wishing they'd stop their forward movement. She cringed as they clasped her own, her breath rattling in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut at the contact, willing herself not to sob openly at the touch. She sunk beneath her thick thoughts.
It couldn't be him. Even if it was him, in some physical or atomic manner, his mind must have been long gone. No one, she reasoned, could retain their sanity under the weight of all that. Could he now be some eternal or dimensional being that had lost all sense of their humanity – tethered to Cerridwen in some twisted manner? She reasoned that if she had been bestowed a similar gift, she doubted she would be able to bear that particular burden. Just the emotional burden and knowledge of the Deathly Hallows, Horcruxes, and just the overall stress of protecting "The Boy Who Lived" was enough to drive a single person absolutely insane.
A task in which you failed most spectacularly, I might add. A deep voice sighed gently.
The words curled around the shell of her ear, but they weren't vocalized. No sound had been made beyond the quiet whispering of the nearby woods and flowing stream. No, these words had swirled inside her ears and danced across her head. She heard them as solidly as the weight of his hands against hers. Hermione stilled so sharply, she felt a muscle twinge. Craning her neck at an almost nonsensical angle, her eyes narrowed at the wizard to her side. However, a flash of burning curiosity burned under her skin. A flicker of intense interest that mocked at the potential implication of what had just transpired between them. The ludicrous nature of such a rare magical instance be damned. Setting her shoulders in a determined line, Hermione shifted to fully face him again, a question poised at the forefront of her mind. A question she knew only Draco, a truly present and lucid one, would be able to answer.
"How do you know I'm mad?"
Something slid across his eyes, a movement so unnatural that Hermione flinched in her effort not to look away, almost like a second pair of eyes had briefly occupied his own. As suddenly as it had come, it disappeared and Hermione let out an involuntary shiver. He grimaced mildly before recovering and gripped her hands as if they were his only tether to the physical world.
"You must be or you wouldn't have come here."
(Long-ish) Post A/N: Sorry once again for the long delay in posting. More sickness (yay pneumonia), vacation, and crazy demands at work have kept me from giving this piece the attention it needs. I am still in love with this story and at this point, I have completely derailed from my original concept and am just really going where the fantastical side of my mind deems necessary.
That last line was from Alice in Wonderland – a nod back to previous chapters. Also, do we like what just happened?! Can you imagine what this might mean for the future and what else do you think Draco has gained? What are yall's theories?
As it stands right now, I have no posting schedule beyond finishing this story before the end of the year. If you are one of those folks who can't handle WIPs, my apologies! Turn back now, beware (lol). So once again, thank you for your patience and your continued kudos, messages, reviews, likes, views, and more! You are all beautiful people. - delphicpigeon