Hey Guys,
The chapters might begin to come a little bit slower and more sporadically. I'll get them up as soon as I write them. I have a bit of personal business to tend to. I appreciate your understanding. As Always Enjoy.
Snow
Bouquet of Roses in Full Bloom - Gratitude
When she woke the taste of antiseptic and the texture of dried up cotton wads plagued the inside of her mouth. The sun was in its early morning rise in the sky. Hermione couldn't help but wince at the pale light as she slowly opened her eyes. She looked around and sighed, no matter how much she loved healing she hated being the patient.
Her eyes locked on to an addition to the infirmary that was not normally there. She sat uncomfortably in emerald green robes. The woman's head hung to the side uncomfortably and her tresses were disheveled as if she was running her hands through her hair throughout the night in worry at her bed side. She tried to swallow but the back of the gullet scuffed and scraped her throat. It must have been the rustle of fabric, but a sleep graveled voice croaked through the air. Hermione reached out for the glass on the bedside table.
"Don't even think about it," the witch warned as she sat up, straightened her disheveled robes, and tried to put her hair back into place. Hermione pulled back her hand and tried once more to swallow but could only cough lightly as she choked on the dry wasteland called her throat.
"Oh, apologies, drink this," the glass Hermione was reaching for was slipped into her hands. She drank greedily, "Slowly," instructed the woman, touching her arm. Hermione nodded and them sipped the rest. Hermione began to take inventory of her body. Her skin stung where it was mended back together like an itch, she was afraid to scratch. Her back felt like pins and needles pierced the top layer of her skin. She shifted slightly and frowned. She moved her hand over her ribs. The woman watched her like a hawk. Then Hermione leaned her head back, looking straight into blue eyes. A small tear slipped down her cheek. It was a tear she never knew fell. It was the soft pad of the woman's thumb under her left eye and the brush of her knuckles on the other side that Hermione realized she was crying.
"Why haven't you come to me?" Professor McGonagall asked barely above a whisper taking Hermione's hand as she leaned forward hoping the girl would speak. A rustle of cloth behind the professor caught Hermione's attention. Black robes of the finest fabric flowed from behind the curtain near Madame Pomfrey's office. Hermione watched as Narcissa Malfoy froze when Hermione's hazel eyes crashed into her own.
"Lady Malfoy told me this has been and ongoing matter," the professor stated indicating that Narcissa had informed Professor McGonagall then the professor glared over her shoulder then looked back to Hermione, "Even though it wasn't reported to me immediately, I am glad Lady Malfoy and Madam Pomfrey finally alerted me yesterday afternoon," the professor looked to Hermione. She shook Hermione's hand to make her focus.
"Miss Granger..." the witch sighed, softened her eyes, even her voice was pleading, "Hermione, please talk to me," The professor pleaded. Hermione sighed, then rolled her head and looked out the window.
"I implore you! Tell your Professor…please," Narcissa begged of the girl. She took a breath to beseech Hermione to do the right thing, to ask for help, to tell someone, anyone what had been happening to her. "Miss Granger…" Narcissa was cut off by a hand raised in silence. Narcissa sighed, then with a growl walked from the girl's bed.
"Interesting bedside manner," Hermione croaked, winced then began to work her still dry and sore throat.
"Enough of that," McGonagall quietly chided Hermione, "She has not left your bedside except for the few moments to change into new clothes. She mended your wounds, and she was so worried about your well-being she told me and Madame Pomfrey about your… treatment in this castle," the professor quietly tore into the stubborn girl. The professor sat back as if slapped when Hermione's eyes flew back around and slammed into her professor's.
"Did she even tell you how she gleaned that knowledge?" Hermione growled.
"Yes, and I am glad she did!" the professor growled loudly back. Hermione refused to see reason and Minerva was growing impatient with her little lioness. Hermione's brow furrowed when her teacher bit back at her. She slid her head back to the side and watched the sky slowly light. McGonagall sighed and stood to leave.
"They were child's play at first," Hermione whispered, and McGonagall sat back down, "Jinx here, hex there, Nothing I wasn't used to when Harry and Ron weren't around," Hermione licked her lips and heard fabric shift out of her eyesight. She continued to watch the day begin as her voice filled the air.
"I have always been called names. Bookworm, bucktoothed, frizz head," Hermione paused, "Mudblood," it was whispered then after a split second pause her voice began to take a wobble, "Even with all of that I have never been labeled a cheat, a liar, or an attention seeking whore," Hermione's voice broke but she swallowed and continued, "I think those hurt more not because they are foul, but because it was a direct verbal assault on my character, my honor," Hermione hard a small breath inhale as she explained how specific words pained the girl. Hermione refused to look at her professor. She refused to turn and see pity in her teacher's eyes.
"When I got better at my shield the school yard hexes and jinxes changed to curses, when those would not do, I was ambushed," Hermione swallowed.
"How many?" the professor asked. Hermione closed her eyes letting her Scottish accent wash over her, soothing her.
"No more than seven, no less than three," Hermione tried to remember, "The physical attacks came when I was alone usually, and there was in the halls," Hermione swallowed. She heard a chair slip forward, a smooth cool hand slip into hers. She didn't realize she needed it, but she took that hand, and held it for dear life.
"He would pin me to the wall," Hermione's cheeks began to shine with the wetness of her tears, "He would use his mass, his height, and strength as an advantage. He would punch me, shove me hard against the wall bruising my back, kick me at first, and then…" someone sat on the bed and pulled her to their chest. When Hermione was pulled to the woman's chest she was rocked back and forth.
"He would bite me, run lips over my neck and shoulder," Hermione clutched to that woman as if she was a life jacket on stormy seas.
"I have you, Little One," a soft voice cooed in her ear.
Hermione tensed and pulled back and looked at her support, her rock. Narcissa did not move a muscle as Hermione looked back and saw a shaking McGonagall about to explode. Hermione looked back at the woman who still loosely held Hermione in her arms. The moment clearly gone, Narcissa began to slowly detach from the girl. Then Hermione shook her head and Narcissa stopped, dead in her tracks. She felt Hermione clench and unclench her fists around her robes.
"I'm scared," Hermione's small voice pulled at both women's heart. Narcissa wrapped her arms around Hermione's shoulders tightly, clutched onto her, never let her go.
"I got you. I got you," Narcissa's mother instincts kicked in as she pulled a box of tissue from the side table and gave it to the distraught girl. Hermione blew her nose, then took another and attempted to clean her face.
"I still despise Draco, but you," Hermione wiped her tears and looked at Narcissa, "You are not so bad," Hermione smiled and sure as the sun hit the sky, Narcissa smiled back to her.
"Noted," Narcissa commented. She made fabulous progress with her patient today, she wasn't about to throw that out the window. Even she had to admit there was a lot of Lucius in her son and many times she wished he could be like her. She cleared her throat, slipped from the bed, and stood cleaning the area. Hermione furrowed her brow at the change.
"Professor, if it could be done, I would like to push back Hermione's internship in the infirmary by one hour," Narcissa requested and continued when she had the professors attention, "I wish to train Hermione myself in dueling, and self-defense," Narcissa looked to Hermione, "That is if you accept another apprenticeship with me as your master?"
"Yes," Hermione said without thinking, then she cocked her head, "but, what makes you qualified?" Hermione asked, and McGonagall coughed to stifle a laugh. Narcissa leveled Hermione with a stare and held herself high.
"Bellatrix Lestrange is my sister. If you can survive a day with her, you are gifted. I survived years. You will be ambushed, I will not be fair, and you will learn speed, cunning, and lightning reflexes," Narcissa paused as she watched the girl before her absorb what Narcissa just said and then, "For one hour, every day, I will be your enemy. In your training there will be no slapdash quick way, there will be no shortcuts, to success. I will not take it easy on you. In our fights, winner takes all," Narcissa's voice grew darker with every syllable.
"What is the prize?" Hermione asked, eyes twinkling growing excited.
"I think I can find something," Narcissa commented narrowing her eyes then stuck out her hand, "Do we have an accord?" she asked and then Hermione looked to her professor. The professor's smile said it all.
"Deal," Hermione grinned already feeling better taking Narcissa's hand. Narcissa nodded and took her leave in search for Hermione's last doses of potions.
"She is lying," Professor McGonagall said with a sly smile, "She is better that her sister ever was. The only edge Bellatrix had over Narcissa was reverence for life. Lady Malfoy cares about life, and if a life ever was in her hands, often Narcissa would be merciful. Bella would not," Minerva grinned at Hermione, "She can make you great," McGonagall grinned.
"I don't want to be great, I simply want to survive," then Hermione furrowed her brow at her professor's words, "She lured me into a false sense on comfort with that story?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"No, she was perfectly correct in everything she said, but think about her words, Miss Granger," Minerva watched the girl ponder.
"Eventually, after so long, she would have to beat her sister. Then keep doing it to keep her sister from torturing her," Hermione shook her head, what had she gotten herself into.
"By the way, I am moving you out of your dorms until we can find this person who keeps attacking you. It shall have one extra bedroom. Is there someone you trust that you would like to go with you?"
"I am assuming they are not co-ed living quarters?" Hermione flashed to Harry and the Professor shook her head.
"At the moment maybe two but I will have to talk with them first," Hermione thought.
"Who might they be so I can make some preparations."
"Ginny Weasley. I have been friends with her for a long time," Hermione thought, "Maybe Luna Lovegood."
"Interesting choice, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall tilted her head thinking.
"She is bullied just as much or more than I am, and most of my bullying is coming from my own house, just like hers," Hermione said plainly but gritted her teeth toward the end of her statement.
"That pains my heart but yes, I think Miss Lovegood would benefit from this arrangement as well," McGonagall stood and waved back to the girl, "Your quarters will be provided by the time you leave here. I will send a house elf to guide you," what the professor neglected to say was that the said house elf would shadow her and be her protector until this tournament was over and report back to her.
Hermione smiled. Things were looking up. The door didn't even close when a blonde head looked around the edge of the panel. Blue eyes lit up momentarily, they eased back as if nothing was of consequence as Fleur came to Hermione's bedside. Fleur looked around and her brow creased then she saw what was missing. She plucked up Hermione's wand and placed it in her hand.
"Now et iz like all our encounters. No?" the French witch smiled hoping the girl had a sense of humor. Fleur was notorious for being a bit frosty, but something about Hermione made her warm slightly, and her real humor came out, dark though it was. Hermione laughed and shook her head.
"Et iz nice to know 'Ermione Granger can smile," the French girl smiled softly, "I was afraid that with all the excitement of the tournament you are paranoid, and anti-social. With good reason it seems," Fleur added gravely as she unconsciously rubbed her palms on her knees then shifted as she realized her fidgeting.
"I am very sorry you seemed to always be at the end my wand while I am rather twitchy," Hermione ran her fingers through her bushy hair.
"Et iz alright. I just hope you are feeling well. That was…" Fleur tried to find words, but the feel of Hermione's blood on her hands, the smell of that copper tang in the air made words fly too quickly through her mind. She couldn't pick one, in French or English.
"Gruesome," Hermione whispered thinking back on the situation, "Thank you for helping me. I am very grateful," Hermione once again ran her hand thought her hair. She couldn't seem to look the girl in the eye. When Hermione took a deep breath then let it out in a heavy burst, she finally found blue.
SLAM!
"Hermione you are not going to believe what Hagrid showed me!" Harry skidded to a halt. He looked between Hermione, who sported a strange shade of pink about her cheeks, and Miss Delacour seemed as cold as ice.
"Um, hi Miss Delacour," Harry greeted but slipped his hand in his robes slowly trying to grasp his wand.
"Miss Delacour," Hermione began but was cut off.
"Fleur, you may call me Fleur," the French girl said as she looked to Hermione. Hermione cleared her throat, still dry from earlier, and now was a dry as bone once more.
"Right, Fleur saved me yesterday. As a champion I think it would only be fair, this once, to share what you have learned to the both of us. By the way thanks for going for me," Hermione smiled softly to Harry then chanced a glance at Fleur.
"You would share tournament information with me?" Fleur's pink lips made a small round 'O' in her surprise as Hermione nodded then looked to Harry. He practically dove to the other side of the bed and looked about the infirmary and leaned in.
"Dragons," Harry whispered grimly. Hermione blinked then moved a shaking hand to her forehead and ran her hand through her hair, twice. Harry slowly reached for her hand, and held it looking at her. Their eyes caught, and he tilted his head asking if she were alright. Hermione nodded then looked to Fleur as she pulled her hand from his but not before she gave it a squeeze in thanks. She hated being touched, especially recently, but Harry, now, after all that has been happening, she needed him and his steadfast support and friendship like she needed air, or books. Hermione looked to Fleur and noticed the blood had drained from her face. Hermione reached out for the girl's shoulder as the girl's gaze shifted from information overload, to panic.
"I have to go," Fleur said weakly but clasped Hermione's hand on her shoulder before darting for the door. Harry and Hermione watched the woman that most of Hogwarts has dubbed 'the Ice Queen,' ran for the door. Harry whipped his hair from his eyes then stared at Hermione.
"What was going on?" Harry asking in a slow sing song way that took the bite out of his allegations.
"I don't know," Hermione answered slightly confused by the girl's departure.
"Say Hermione, I know it's none of my business…" Hermione glanced at him coolly and he lifted his hands in surrender but went head on, "I won't judge you. I love you. But do you think you might fancy her?" Harry asked. At first Hermione scoffed at his inquiry, and she was about to have a firm rebuttal, but then she remembered how she seemed to fall into those eyes, how she seemed so at ease, aside from her knee jerk reactions with her wand, she was… less anxious. She took a deep breath and then she looked at the ceiling.
"I don't know," Hermione confessed. Harry grasped her hand once more and this time her eyes looked into his smiling green. She could not help but feel her heart warm, and fill with his friendship and understanding. Then he moved from the bed with a nod toward the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked afraid he would do something foolish and tell the girl.
"Get you something to read, let's say something on various types of dragons and their individual weaknesses?" Harry smiled.
"Harry Potter, in a library? Without me dragging you kicking and screaming? Wonders never seize," Hermione joked.
"You didn't see what I did. I'll get you all the info I can carry, besides. Its DRAGONS Hermione, real DRAGONS! Bloody wicked. I'll be back soon," Then the boy who lived flew from the infirmary.
Hermione smiled. She knew he just needed a subject he liked other than dark arts that would grab his attention to get his bum in a library. Then a warm thought hit her. He was getting her research. He was the best.