Hey Everyone.
No... I haven't forgotten about A Time, but I felt like I hit a nice place with this little story. I went out today, played in the mist, sat and looked out over the trees, and let the earth recharge this crazy lady. I will need it too. The next part will be a bit draining, and longer than other chapters. So I am pausing so I can do a chapter for my other story. Bah what did I do to my self beginning one while still having one open? Even more crazy is the three main characters are the three main in the other story... ehhhh brain is confused. LOL
Reviews concerns... Hey, guests if you dont wanna read a story that says Ron and/or Harry bashing thats cool. BUT have you ever actually read my stories? Have you read this story? I have not even bashed Ron yet, and honestly the more I think about it, I'm not sure I want to, but he WILL be used. I have an idea. So who ever keeps putting the Ron bashing posts and you would rather skip it. You said that twice. Skip the freaking story. I will take the Ron bashing warning down because he will not be bashed. He will be used, like a little puppet. That not bashing. But come on, he is even written by JKR that he is an uncouth, disgusting, spoiled brat of a boy. Dont like it, fan mail her. I get that im an easy target, so do it, be a troll but understand one thing. Because you would rather pass, then pass. Leave, and stop, your unsigned reviews. They will not be allowed. Thank you for your honest likes and dislikes about a Hermione insert. Good Day.
Ok, everyone. I hope you like this next chapter. I havent figured out what Mary Sue-ing is. But if what I understand about Mary Sue-ing is overcoming alot of obstacles. We are in a magical world right. hehe so what? Hermione is a Mary- whatever. Its fun to write . Hope you can except that.
Enjoy,
Snow
Starwort ~ Welcome to a Stranger
Not Alone:
"Hermione," Harry called out to his friend she quickly packed and left Charms. Hermione stepped out of the class and then drifted to the side out of the way. She took a very deep breath, emotions running high and fast, too many to sift through. Too many things had happened too quickly. He has not talked to her since her name came out of the cup. Now that she thought about it, she has not talked to him, or anyone for that matter. Sure, she had been attacked relentlessly, and she didn't even know why, but in her desire to protect herself, she distanced herself from her friends. Harry huffed as he approached. He has an easy smile, and when she tried to smile back, she felt the pulling of her mouth and lips, as if those muscles had not been used and forgot the motions of simple smiling. It sort of hurt in a dull aching way. Harry reached out quickly and pulled her further to the side and looked around. It took everything in Hermione's control not to flinch or yank her arm from his gentle grasp. He waited as the crowd began to thin. It made her nervous, causing her eyes to dart over the hall, scanning the are and clutch her wand slowly slipping down her sleeve.
"Hermione," Harry whispered getting her attention, "Hagrid needs to see you," Harry looked around as if someone where to spy on their conversation. She sighed. Hermione's posture relaxed, and she breathed easier, warmth beginning to flood back into her chest, chasing away the chill of a lonely heart. That was until Harry shoved a bag in her hands. Hermione looked inside, and quickly shut it. Her brown eyes slammed into his green, and then she grabbed him by the bicep and shoved him into an empty classroom.
"What are you talking about, and be very specific," Hermione hissed. Harry blinked, and straightened his glasses that skewed when he was unceremoniously tossed around like a ragdoll.
"Hagrid need to see you. Though he could help you with the tournament, but he said seeing in believing," Harry shrugged then pointed to the bag, "I thought you could use the cloak, and the Marauders map to stay out of trouble."
Hermione nodded, and took a deep breath. She let herself have a small moment of calm. She let herself feel her friendship for Harry. He was helping her. He was reaching out. It was Hermione's turn. She stepped closer to the and clasped his hand and shook it. They walked out of the class smiling at one another. Gods why did she shut him out.
"I have Potions with the slimy git Malfoy. I envy you and your extracurriculars. You get to have potions with the Claws, they might give you aa run for your money," He joked, and she did something she had not done in a long time. She laughed.
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione chuckled. Harry smiled crookedly at her.
"Anytime. I'm here for you," Harry shook her hand. She reached out for him and hugged him to her. She missed him. She missed his smile, and easy nature when people were not trying to kill him. He was brooding, inside of his head a lot, but he always seemed to snap out of it. H was so much stronger than she was. She began to let him go and felt re-stabilized as if a foundation of her life that had cracked had been fixed.
Suddenly pain lanced up her legs. She hissed and clutched him tightly. She broke from Harry as he clutched her back, and she writhed in pain. She felt tears bubbling in her eyes as she pulled up her trouser leg. Harry gasped as he witnessed small cuts open on her legs and blood began to well from the wounds running down her flesh.
"Mon Dieu!" came a small gasp and a cry. A blonde head popped next to Hermione's and the Beauxbaton Blue crowed Hermione's spinning vision. Hermione clutched her wand in her hand and looked up. Harry stood next to her, wand ready to hex the legs off an acromantula if it should peep around the corner. Then Blue eyes, they hovered closer to Hermione.
"Breathe," the soft, calming French dialect directed, but Hermione pulled away, screamed out as she leaned against the wall, wailing out once more as she back touched the stone. Her want lifted between them.
"I don't know you," Hermione gritted between waved of pain, and flowing tears. Hermione knew of the other girl. She was Fleur Delacour, but they did not know each other. Never said one word to the other. Fleur looked to the young woman and back to the wand.
"This is the second time we have met, and every time I end up at wand point," stayed where she was, "I am merely passing by, and I wish to help you if you allow me."
Hermione felt the blood slip down her legs, her clothes beginning to soak through. Her breathing began to grow shallow, and she started to feel colder.
"I will trust a champion to be honest and honorable. Can I trust you with her?" Harry asked of the woman. Fleur nodded, standing tall and proud.
"I swear on my honor as Beauxbaton's champion, I will protect her from further harm," Fleur nodded to Harry. He did the same and he dashed off. Hermione slid her eyes to Fleur. She did not know her, now a days that didn't seem to matter. Hermione suspected person as a person of interest in her recent treatment in these halls.
"I am Hermione Granger," Hermione gritted through her pain.
"I am Fleur Delacour," the blonde introduced. Hermione kept her wand in her hand but did not point it at Fleur. She took a deep stuttering breath and stepped forward. Hermione never knew she could make that sound. She was relieved no one was left in the halls. It was just her and the French girl who were privy to the sounds coming from Hermione, the weakness of Hermione unable to protect herself.
"Miss Dela…" Hermione whispered but did not finish as Fleur shot for her, caught her as Hermione's skin turned grey, and her eyes rolled back as the girl dropped to the floor. Fleur eased the girl to the ground, with Hermione's mass of curls in her lap. She swept the frizzy fly away strands from Hermione's face. The Fleur's eyes narrowed. Red smudges marred Hemione's features. She looked to her own hands. Her eyes grew. Finally, that coppery tang hit the air. A pop sounded and Fleur placed a hand over Hermione and lifted her wand to the intruder. Blue met blue.
"I need to take her to treat her." A rich softly commanding voice broke through Fleur's protective haze, "I swear, I am here to help her," the voice, it washed over her flesh like summer waves off the shores of Southern France. Fleur nodded and lowered her wand and took her hand away, but she never let Hermione's head fall from her thighs. The blonde healer slowly, carefully gathered the unconscious witch to her, cradled the injured girl to her body with utmost care. With a nod between Fleur and the healer the woman popped Hermione away.
Fleur looked down to where the girl had just been. Blood. It soaked the dark grey stones on her floor, it soaked the wall where Hermione leaned, it soaked Fleur's Blue uniform, but of all it soaked the witch's hands. She swallowed. The tournament has not begun, and there was blood soaking the ground, and tinging the air.
Fleur shot off like a rocket to the infirmary.
Care…
Narcissa saw Hermione on the ground with Fleur Delacour holding her close, protecting her. Narcissa made sure her mask, yes, she had many, looked neutral, calm, and caring. Inside her guts squirmed like worms wriggled around in her intestines. When Delacour pulled a wand on her, she wanted to hex the girl eight ways from Sunday, and rip Hermione from her clutches. When she saw deeper the gravity of the situation Hermione was in, Narcissa paused. Reflected in Fleur's eyes was a sense, it was an understand when her eyes connected with the young witches. She felt part of her chest sigh in relief as the girl took care of Hermione, another part of her flares white hot at their closeness, and then one part of her felt something… warm for the girl. She almost hugged the girl. Narcissa, with her eyes locked with Fleur's, nodded and popped Hermione to the infirmary.
Narcissa still had Hermione huddled to her, engulfed in her arms. She held the young witch to her for one more second, then she felt the robs wet with blood. She looked down to ashen lips, and pale cheeks and licked her lips. Oh, gods she was in horrible shape. She stood and carted Hermione's shockingly light body to and empty infirmary bed.
She breathed in and out. She touched a button on her robes three times in quick succession, multiple times but no answer. Finally, as she cut the robes from Hermione's body did Madam Pomfrey pop into the infirmary.
"What in Merlin is the emergency?" the medi-witch slowed her question as she took in the girl on the table.
Both women, on the right side, the other on the left worked in perfect tandem. One cut the fabric the other healed the cuts as they revealed. Pomfrey sighed as they finished Hermione's legs, then Narcissa levitated Hermione, gently placed her on the bed, and then slashed the back of her robes with her wand. When the clothes fell to the side displaying deep red gashes both women shook their heads and worked.
"Who could do this?" Pomfrey asked as she cleaned and Narcissa healed. Narcissa detached herself from the task, from the girl. It has been weeks that she had been tasked to teach and train Hermione if Madam Pomfrey was not available. It was weeks since she learned the truth from Lucius as she told him of her day. He smiled as he slipped his fingers along her jaw and muttered one word… perfect. It was weeks that she learned why.
Hermione was targeted by the Dark Lord. Take out the genius best friend, the idiot would crumble and fall. She was tasked with one more thing. Harry Potters blood. Which she has. She collected a vial of it when he was knocked out from a bludger, and she took a small vial, and slipped it into her robes. But she had yet to turn it over. Part of her wanted to obey as little as possible. Let everything fade away, her good deed for her husband's master would keep them in his good graces. But part of her screamed, refused to let harm come to these kids, even Harry Potter. In the end, she knew she would do her task, then she would be able to do what she never thought she would love doing, helping and healing these kids. It sparked a flame inside of her. Hopefully she could be forgiven when the time comes.
As she focused but compartmentalized part of herself while working on Hermione, she realized in those weeks of training Narcissa began to develop feelings for the young witch. She cared about her. She wanted her safe, and she wanted Hermione to live.
When she closed gash after gash on Hermione's body, Narcissa silently cursed her husband, cursed the Dark Lord. Finally, she cursed herself for offering up a gorgeous lamb for slaughter.
Finally, they finished, Hermione was changed into a gown, her robes and clothes ruined. Narcissa caressed the Gryffindor crest on the girl's robes. One last sigh she tossed them into the fire. The door was thrown open. A frazzled blonde blew in like a tornado. Narcissa stepped back and observed.
"Ow is she?" Fleur asked.
"Stable, but weak. We will get her fit as a fiddle soon, Miss Delacour," Pomfrey supplied. Narcissa watched the girl's expression, she watched her blue eyes and too many thoughts ran behind those eyes, too many emotions felt below the surface. Finally, Fleur's eyes settled. They never left Hermione.