Chapter 29

Leaves of the Heart

Panting.

Running.

That's all they could do.

One breath, frighten, stifled, hot, shared by all their lungs.

Ron and Hermione's feet against the floor as the wind blew back their hair; friends in hot pursuit behind them. The fear in their eyes as they moved.

Umbridge. She was close.

It'd been a late-night meeting of the DA. They were all anxious to keep perfecting their Patronus charms. Hermione was keen to absorb it all so that she could further teach Draco the spell. Who knew when he'd require it under Voldemort's allegiance?

It all happened as it had numerous times before. The coin, sneaking away, not drawing attention.

Then Dobby popped inside the room with an urgent warning.

Run. They come for you.

Hermione's heart beat out of her chest as they absconded the Room of Requirement. Her sight of Harry, lost to it all. The commotion, the noise. She felt adrenaline as it filled her veins. Her clench on Ron's arm tightened as they moved through the corridors.

The way to Gryffindor Tower was unobstructed. Hermione and Ron tumbled into the portrait along with the other Gryffindors. Fred and George falling atop of Hermione whilst Ginny and Seamus dropped atop of Ron at the entrance just behind the protection of the portrait.

They all grunted and groaned. The sudden clatter of their bones against the floor burst the breath from their lungs, breath they already couldn't spare from the sprinting.

"Godric, Fred. You smacked your head on mine!" Hermione squirmed beneath their crushing weight.

"Oi, be glad you bumped his head," George grumbled as he shifted off of her. "I bumped something less pleasant."

It was met with a chorus of groans from the other Gryffindor girls in the room.

"Bloody close," Ron commented as he rose from the floor. He brushed off his trouser legs. "Might have to slack off for a bit, eh, Harry? Seeing as they'll be looking now."

A silence only greeted them.

She felt panic build in her belly. His face. It wasn't there.

"Oh Godric. Harry! Did he get left outside?" She flew to the portrait hole. It opened wide into an empty and silent corridor.

She stood in the center. "Harry?"

Echoes…they stretched all the way down.

Tears built in her eyes.

No. No. It couldn't be.

"Did any of you see him?" She shrieked.

Their wide-eyed horrified stares the only answer. Perhaps it was the fright in her voice. The sheer power of it struck her own ears as it repeated back from the depths of the castle.

"I think I saw him fall," a quiet Pavarti admitted.

The world fell away. Her fingers turned numb.

All the work with Draco, to keep Harry safe and under the radar. It was all gone. He'd be expelled for certain!

Hermione allowed a few frantic tears to fall down her cheeks. Ginny wrapped her arms around her struggling shoulders, the only thing that kept her standing.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione wept. "I'd have traded spots. I could have helped him. I'd have taken his place in the blame."

Ginny clenched her arms tighter. Ron joined his sister in support of Hermione's hysterics.

"Come on then," he whispered. "Let's get inside before someone sees."

Her teary eyes turned to her best friend. "We've failed, Ronald. We've failed him."

The fallen face of the redhead only greeted her with sorrow. His blue eyes, slanted in their corners as they regarded her, their close ally, lost in their own mounting despair. He grabbed her hand and guided her back into the protection of Gryffindor Tower. The farther she walked, the heavier the weight felt against her knees. Soon she was unable to stand.

Her heart raced so fast. Thoughts refused to slow, their rapid flashing at her eyes whether she wished for them or not. She dropped to her knees.

A hand petted the back of her head. Ginny murmured sweet words of support into Hermione's ear. They were nothing but white noise. Nothing.

A tremble came to her fingers as she realized the hope that was lost if Harry was left to the muggle world, unprotected under the supervision of his aunt and uncle. It would take no time for Voldemort to discover him. He was one person. A boy, with no means, no access, no safety.

Hogwarts was his only defense.

The ridicule, the embarrassment she endured from the lips of Slytherin just to keep him protected from their meddling. Lost. All of it. Gone.

Hermione sobbed. Her hands trembled mid-air in front of her as she gasped for words.

"I – I – we – we…"

Ron assured her quietly in hushed tones. "He's alright. He's Harry, isn't he? He's always got a way out of things."

"Look at her, Ron." Ginny muttered in disbelief.

Hermione knew she was in the midst of a breakdown, yet her mind couldn't pull away from the dark path she saw for the future. Chains. She saw thick, dense chains, unbroken by might or spell. A collar of ownership round her neck, tense against her throat. And red eyes. She felt them on her.

A dark, grey world of screams and horror. The shaking tremble of panic as they were all hunted or tortured. The entire goodness that lived outside the castle walls, pulled. Pulled from her grasp.

"Are you alright, Mione?" She heard Ron's voice ask.

Screams that echoed through pitch black corridors. In every direction. Terror in their shrillness as it raked through her ears.

Bodies upon bodies of the death, people she knew all around her feet. The cursed life of living on as an asset.

"Mione?"

"Hermione? Love? Can you hear us?"

Her shoulders were grabbed and given a shake all the while, she heard her name uttered on a few lips. A cool hand touched her forehead.

"Why won't she answer?" A voice asked.

"I don't know," A voice answered. "She's the one who knows those things."

"Perhaps it's shock."

She no longer recognized her friend's voice. She no longer saw Gryffindor Tower in front of her. All she saw were the worst imagination in front of her eyes like a telly. It played, over and over, the depths the world would come to if Harry failed.

If Voldemort killed Harry, families would go into hiding. The Weasleys would go underground to protect themselves, but even that was a prayer. One by one they'd be hunted and discovered.

And Draco…he'd be protected but powerless to help her. They'd be separated.

A world of death, fire, shards of green spells, terror-filled screams, the emptiness of hope, was all that she felt.

Without Harry. They were nothing. Without Draco, she was nothing.

"We have to get her up to bed."

Someone scoffed. "What? Just carry her up the stairs? You forget we can't take a step on those?"

"We can't just leave her, Ron."

"What about the sofa?" A softer voice hummed. "It's close."

All Hermione felt was the touch of hands all over her. Weightless, as if she drifted up toward the heavens above.

A welcome reprieve to the weight of life in depressing times. Release from all the horror to impend on them.

The next thing she realized, she opened her eyes to a dim room. Too dim. It was in the middle of the night. Curtains were drawn to aid the darkness. Smoke of the air of a died-out hearth filled her nostrils. A simple chill from the blanket of darkness crept through her hands and face.

Her back ached. She rolled onto her side and cuddled deeper into the pillow. It was scratchy against her cheek, not like the usual cool touch of a silk pillowcase of her personal pillow from home.

Again, her mind fell away to nothingness.

She awoke again. This time to something under her side. It dug deep.

Her fingers danced down to remove it from below her, when she realized at the warmth of it's touch, it was somebody. Somebody's hand.

Her eyes snapped wide open.

Ronald laid on the floor just below the common room sofa. His hand was beneath her uncomfortably. Though, it didn't seem to bother him with his shoulder wretched in a strange position.

Hermione stared down at the redhead's face of total innocence, his mouth hanged open and awful snores exited his lips, but something so serene in his features, free of wrinkles and deep-set worry lines.

He must have stayed the night at her side so she wouldn't be alone when she woke. It was kind. It was his particular brand of thoughtfulness.

She went to extend her legs, which had been tucked up close, when an obstruction blocked their stretch.

Harry was on the other side of the sofa. His head lulled to the side.

She was so startled that a noise erupted from her lips before she could think better of it.

The noise stirred Harry in his seat. Soft green eyes blinked open, dazed and heavy with exhaustion.

"Oh Harry." Hermione was unable to help herself. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself tight against him. "Thank Godric. You're okay."

He breathed suddenly, startled by his awakening. "Yeah, Hermione. I'm alright."

She remembered the night before. Before everything went dark and terrifying, she remembered.

She revoked from their hug. "What- what happened last night? Why didn't you come to the Tower?"

"I got caught," he revealed. With a gentle rub of his face, his eyes started to awaken. "Umbridge brought me to Dumbledore."

Her mouth dropped open. "Dumbledore?"

"He admitted it was his army, Hermione. They found the list with 'Dumbledore's Army' on it. And he confirmed it. Why did he confirm it?"

Hermione put her palm on Harry's shoulder. A breath of a relief, and confusion, all at once let from her lips. She struggled through the slow moving of her mind. The sofa did not aid in restful slumber. She was groggy.

"Dumbledore knows what he's doing, and he's probably the reason why you aren't expelled."

"Fudge tried to arrest him."

"Tried?"

"Dumbledore fled."

She settled back into her seat. Dumbledore was a protection all the non-pureblood students needed from the reign of terror of Umbridge. Without him…

"Umbridge is Headmistress, isn't she?"

He paused. Behind smudged lens, his eyes were filled with guilt.

Instantly, she knew her friend's emotions like the words on a page.

"It isn't your fault, Harry. Dumbledore took the blame. You didn't make him do that."

"He wouldn't have had to if he didn't feel the need to protect me," Harry said swiftly. "It was our idea. My class. I should have said something."

She shook her head. "You'd have been expelled then."

"So? What does it matter now? Umbridge is going to expel me eventually."

"Don't say that." Her hands raised in the air, lost to the fury that it invoked. "Don't even think that."

"I'm not worth all this," he said. "All this sacrifice. It's like all I do us mess up things for everyone else."

"You're the hope, Harry. We'd all rather die than see that hope diminish."

Despite all the struggles with Harry, it felt natural when they talked. The way they connected, they understood one another very well, when they weren't in their own frustrations.

They sat there in the quiet. Harry lost in his own words to actually say anything as Hermione thought of last night and what happened.

Pavarti said she saw Harry fall.

She touched his arm gently. His head turned slowly to find her probing gaze. "How did you get caught?"

He scratched the back of his head. "A Trip Jinx."

"But who -."

"I'm surprised he hasn't told you," Harry replied.

Her forehead scrunched. "What are you talking about?"

"Malfoy is on the Inquisitorial Squad."

Her heart stopped dead in its tracks. Like a spell, icy venom filled the insides of her body through every artery and vein and lining and muscle and tissue. The Slytherin coldness injected deep to the exposed warmth of her Gryffindor heart, all too close thanks to Draco's personal key to her interior.

"What is the Inquisitorial Squad?" She asked quietly.

"Umbridge made it for students to uncover rule breakers in the school. One of their duties being hunting us."

Hermione shook her head.

Draco warned her. He told her he'd do all he could to reveal what they were doing. He was so angry about the club. Revenge on Harry being the forefront, but the other part was fury at her for choosing Harry over him.

A visible shudder crawled down her spine.

"Don't worry," Harry assured her. "It wasn't you."

"Pardon?"

"It wasn't you who led him to us. Umbridge had an informant."

That lessened the blow, but a miniscule amount. Hermione was the reason Draco knew anything about their club in the first place.

"Is that what Umbridge said?"

It was possible the witch lied. She was inherently dishonest. Her actions entirely unethical. Draco could have still used Hermione and Umbridge lied in loyalty to her squad.

Squad. Godric, that burned her up so bad. How could he not tell her?

It explained things, like how he always knew what she did. He'd been following her. Them. Or whoever he used to track them down.

"That, and, I saw her." He winced at the memory. All at once, she realized what he meant.

"It scarred her face."

"SNEAK, right across her forehead."

"Who was it?"

"Marietta."

Cho brought Marietta to the meetings. The witch always seemed hesitant. Never adapted to the entire going against Umbridge thing quite as well as everyone else.

"Serves her right," Hermione said stiffly. "She knew what it meant to join. And what the cost would be."

"It looks awful."

"Good. Then everyone will know she's a bleeding sneak."

Disloyalty was a disgusting trait. Hermione despised anyone who turned on those who trusted them.

Draco soared towards the top of her list. Disloyalty his only shining trait she remembered.

In protest of his betrayal, Hermione went to breakfast with Harry and Ron, gathered the rest of their close friends – from all houses that participated in the DA – and refused to even acknowledge the table of serpents. To ensure she did not meet his gaze, she sat on the opposite side so all he saw was her back.

Ernie Macmillon and Ron sat alongside her. Ginny was there, Michael was, too. Harry sipped tea quietly. He was still shaken by the departure of their headmaster. Others, though, were more vocal about their disgust with the new Headmistress.

"The fall of true education comes in a pink dress," Ernie said.

"She's not qualified for any position at this school," Hermione grumbled as she crunched on a piece of toast.

"Not even Filch's," Ginny added.

Ron shook his head. "Dumbledore is barmy for leaving his position to her."

"He had no choice," Harry commented quietly. "Fudge ordered him charged and sent to Azkaban."

Seamus Finnegan came and sat nearer the group. He leaned over. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"The headmaster's office sealed up," Seamus revealed. "Won't let anyone in. Word is, Umbridge is furious. Wants to blow the door down."

Even Hogwarts hated Umbridge.

Hermione snarled harshly at the witch's total disregard of respect for the ancient school. "Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office... Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old —"

"I'd not finish my sentence if I were you."

His voice was a screeching halt to the conversation. Draco, behind her back, scowled with his anger.

Couldn't even go an entire morning with her silence. Pathetic.

Her hands gripped the edge of the table.

Then he dared retract points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Hermione exhaled in rage. Her knees started their ascent in her seat when Ernie opened his mouth to their defense.

"Prefects are not permitted to take points from other prefects."

"You'll find that this badge -." He opened his robes and gestured toward the gaudy badge just above his Prefect badge. "Grants me to do whatever I wish."

Hermione was so insulted by the abuse of power that she stood from the table. "Unbelievable. It would seem that this entire castle has been taken over by imbeciles."

She stormed off from breakfast, so close to breaking another school rule of not cursing another student. Not that it would curse any other student than the absolute worst there was!

Somewhere along her journey, she heard the sounds of her two bodyguards behind her. They were not sneaky in their pursuit of her. All the months she permitted them with no fight.

Today was another day altogether.

She turned around. "I am sorry for this," she said before she pulled her wand on them. A jet of hot air whipped from the end of her wand and blew the two oafs off their feet.

It was not their fault they were friends with a manipulative prat. However, he was nowhere near to confront so they were the next best thing.

Only. Near the end of her spell, when the thought to run came to mind, the spell was countered and broken.

Draco Malfoy stood, wand at his side, teeth gritted.

Just the sight of him brought forth true rage.

She fired. This time, at him.

"Stupefy!"

He blocked it with that bloody arrogant face of a self-serving arse.

"Rictusempra."

Blocked.

"Locomotor Mortis," she tried again.

Spell after spell she shot at him. Each one blocked so agilely. With skill.

She pressed harder for a spell he couldn't counter or block. "Reducto."

"Petrificus Totalus."

All the while, she noticed his footing. Each counter brought him one step closer.

Her eyes went wide. She sent a jelly legged jinx straight for them.

"Stay. Away. From me."

Draco took another step. Hand remained in his pocket. As if he wasn't breaking a sweat, as if she was not worth the bother!

She pressed her lips together. "Stupefy, Reducto, Stupefy, Expelliarmus."

It was rapid fire. Spells shot from her wand like a bullet intent on harm and melted away by his shields. Each bringing him closer to her.

Hermione refused to bend. Sweat beaded at her forehead as she continued the onslaught against him.

Godric she could have kept going for hours at that egotistical mug, but her shoulder started to burn. The muscles screamed in pain as it moved. Every cast shot it farther and farther into her tissues until the very tendons around her heart burned under the fire of pain.

Between the pain, the blinding anger in her mind, and the fact that he hadn't fired a single spell in response, Hermione went beyond her own control. Her temper feasted on the betrayal that came from Harry's capture and his secrecy.

"Fight back, you coward!" She wanted to provoke him. She yearned to slurp in his own frustrations. "Fight me."

"I won't," he said.

She shook her head. "No. NO. You don't get to be so chivalrous as to pretend concern for me. You don't get to pretend that you care for me after lying, betraying my trust in you. After everything you've put me through, the mental assault of the fabric of my being for your amusement, all to throw it away on something that would earn you privileges. A stature about everyone." Her lips curled to a harsh snarl. "How dare you use me."

Draco's brow fell low, right above his eyes as menacing as the edges of his gaze. His hands roughly grabbed her hips and pushed her against a wall. He made no effort to harm her but did little to deflect from the jolt of the cold wall.

"It may displease you to know that I did it for you."

"Me?" She scoffed harshly. "Bullocks. You did it for yourself. To get that badge on your shirt there."

"I warned you what would happen, didn't I?" He hissed in the harshest essence of control. "I warned you that I would use any means necessary to protect your image. Potter's secret club was going to get found out. Eventually. Umbridge was not above cursing students to uncover it. And you'd have been exposed. You forced my hand, pet. There was no other choice than to hunt it myself…protecting you was all I had in mind. Why do you think I let the house elf go free?"

Air expelled from her lungs. "You let Dobby - ?"

"I ensured I was the first one there to catch whoever was there, in case you got any bloody Gryffindor ideas that involved self-sacrifice."

His grip loosened. Her body fell away back down to the stone floor of the castle.

Eyes filled with tears, down turned. She kept the emotions contained; their battle within raged with the heat and coldness of such conflicting images of herself and others.

She sniffled. "I would have…if I had seen it happen. I would have switched places with him."

"I know," was all that growled back in answer. His back turned to the corridor. Hurried sounds of footsteps echoed around them. The start of the school day very near. "Come, pet. We have class."

That they did.

Hermione gathered herself with the last shred of resolve that Draco hadn't shattered over the term. It was thick, sharp, but slipping more and more with each passing day. The DA had been the last outlet to express her Gryffindor nature without worry of his welfare.

Now, it was gone.

What's worse was that it had the twins convinced that school was no longer for them. The pair lost interest the moment Dumbledore left.

She tried to talk some sense into them. Neither would listen.

"Don't you know how idiotic it is to quit just before exams? You're so close to graduation. Throwing away years of hard work on a whim is perhaps the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard!"

Then they did that thing: the twin look. An unspoken communication that they both knew but no one else could riddle.

"You sound just like Mum." Fred wrinkled his nose.

"She thinks we're idiots, too."

Her arms crossed. "Well, she'd be right." Words did not express the irritation she felt. With all that happened, her tempers were frayed enough. If Fred and George dropped out, it would only prove that Gryffindors were as irrational as they come. "Don't make an impulsive choice because of what happened. It won't do anyone any good."

"Oi, now. They've got a business going," Ron said in the aid of his brothers.

It was a Weasley gathering in the common room. Ginny read the Quibbler with a new charm necklace around her neck – no doubt a gift from Luna – while Ron sat crossed legged on the floor with his half-attempted schoolwork in front of him. Fred and George were on the sofa. They tossed something back and forth counting as they went. The only one missing was Harry who was trapped in detention.

"That's not dependable," Hermione chastised. "It's school playthings. Jokes. That won't last. It's only appealing because they are in school."

The twins ceased their playing. Faces fallen.

"Low blow."

George lowered the ball. His hand returned it to his pocket. "We aren't students. We are Ministry officials or Aurors or politicians. You see us as researchers, Hermione? You think that is what awaits in our future? A desk in an office somewhere."

"There's a chance," she replied. "You shouldn't cripple yourselves with that limitation."

"Listen to you. Go on like we'd want that."

The pair rose from the sofa. They shook their head in disappointment. Eyes sloped in the corners as they strolled away.

"It's like you don't know us at all," George muttered in parting.

Hermione fell to the floor. She sank. Her head fell into her hands. An explosion of dilapidated curls surrounded her in their blanket of darkness as her breath struggled through her nose.

Had she lost every battle? Was defeat the only constant?

A small being of fur and warmth slipped between her arms and curled atop her lap. It purred. The vibration radiated through her thighs rippling her flesh with its waves. When it reached her chest, breaths steadied. Heat back inside the throbbing of her heart.

She revoked her hands to find the white cat staring into her soul.

"I think I'm losing my mind," she whispered.

The cat patiently waited. His purrs the only sound in her ears.

"You're right." Her lips betrayed a sigh. "I've got to keep going."

"Are you alright?" Ron hesitantly asked as she lifted her head. His eyes filled with concern in her slow response. "They're just mental. You know that. They have to be different from all of us."

Ginny readily agreed. "They want Mum grey from this. Got a bet goin' and everything."

Drogon stayed perched on her lap until Harry returned late that evening. His detention completed for the day. He dropped to the sofa, exhausted.

No one said a word.

Lately, it was difficult to find a thing to say. There was so little left. All their hands were bound by the Ministry in the form of an evil dictator that assumed control of the castle.

"I'm beat," Harry breathed. "Between these detentions and Professor Snape, I'm run ragged."

"You've got Potions with Snape tomorrow, don't you?" Ron questioned. His legs straight forward with a wince.

Glasses in hand, Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah."

"We've got practice tomorrow," his friend replied gently. "I won't see you in the afternoon then."

It interested him very little. The loss of the DA was hard. He was back to his old self. It was rare if he slept a whole night. The bags underneath Ron's eyes were clear indication of how restless it was in the boy's dormitory.

Harry left for bed a moment later. He only acknowledged Hermione with a gentle touch on her shoulder as he stood.

She gave a hollow smile that cracked her mask. It didn't reflect in her eyes. There was no pleasure to be found. The entire world was dark.

"Don't let the wizards get you down." Ginny raised her gaze from her reading. "I can only offer a bit of advice from someone raised with too many wizards to be sane." Ronald scoffed. Her sister pointed her finger in his direction. "Case in point. They don't know why they do the things they do. Part of it is that they just can't help themselves. Stupidity is alluring, somehow. I don't know. Percy is the most level-headed and I don't understand what the hell he does!"

"Oi. Percy is not the one to compare us to."

"You wet the brush before the paste. Who does that?"

"It gets the bristles wet," Ron explained with passion.

It was a very defined issue between the siblings. Their reactions – far beyond normal conversation – said as much.

Ginny turned both her palms to the sky. "Why does that matter? You've got to wet the paste. Double wetting makes no sense. It isn't any moister."

"Oh, what do you know, Gin? Nothin'. That's what."

Hermione remained lost. The advice was swallowed into a pointless argument that translated very little to her own situation.

"And this helps me how?"

She knew wizards did things without thinking. It was their wiring. Immature brains and all that. Prior thought meant conscious thinking was done constantly. That was too much brain power that could be devoted to Quidditch statistics, fart jokes and childish rivalry.

Ginny sighed. "George and Fred are going to do what they want to. There isn't thought put into the future, or ramifications. They just know what they want right now. Honestly, it's what we all know in total truth. What we want now. The future. Who knows what will happen then? You don't. I don't. They certainly don't. So, how can we plan our lives around a place we can't imagine?" The redhead gave a soft smile. "All we can do is hope. Hope for the best. Hope they aren't put in Azkaban for whatever it is they are plotting and be there when it all goes wrong."

That was the most prevalent frightening advice Hermione ever received. From Ginny, nonetheless!

It was swallowed down with the bitter taste of reality. There was no stopping the twins. That was obvious. They wanted chaos in the only way they knew. It was their life's pursuit to push the limits of what was outrageous and surpass every expectation like a race between a bird and a dragon.

The more she considered the words that night in bed, the more she accepted the actions of a nameless Slytherin whom plagued her life with his incessant need to twist it all around.

A quote of a novel came to mind as she thought of his porcelain hair alight in the pale rays of a full moon. It was from a summer's day in Hampstead. A black and white cover with half a woman adorned in traditional clothing.

"The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves, until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains."

Arthur Golden wrote that. He penned down a quote that fit the emotion quite perfect. It slide over every pain, every hurt, every hopeful sparkle inside herself.

One day, Draco Malfoy would go too far. He would hurt her too deep to recover.

And that day, Hermione would be gone from him forever…