The Attack
To tell whoever's reading this the absolute truth, I didn't plan to log the rest of this. I honestly didn't. But, I guess I will tell you the ending right here: we won. Don't be surprised. If we didn't win, somehow, I wouldn't be writing this. You know it, I know it. So don't be an idiot.
You're wondering why I'm so bitter right now, huh? Well, you'd have a bloody right to be bitter, if you've gone through what I have, and lost what I lost in the process of doing it. But, I did say I would record the entire shabang, if not for me, then for history, so it hopefully won't repeat itself. But...It hurts.
Where did I leave off at? The first night in the cave. Well, now that I have regained meaning of time and dates, I know that we were living in the forest for about a week. It seemed like a bloody year. Life was an automatic thing. You ate, you slept, you looked over the camp, and you looked for water. Easy enough. Malfoy and I even became decently tolerant of each other, since we spent nearly every waking moment with the other person. I hate to admit it, and I would never say it to his face, but I don't think I could have done it without Draco. It was a relief to see a familiar face every day, even if the face was once hostile. But we had declared a silent truce: our childish squabbles no longer mattered anymore, to anybody.
I remember on previous pieces of parchment that I said that we were looking for an omen, to show us the correct time when to come home. On the seventh day of living in the cave, I found it. Everybody was a terrible mess. Most of the first years spent their time blubbering and sobbing as quietly as they could. Nobody had had a bath, or brushed their hair or done any grooming for days. My hair was now one giant, gnarled knot, and my skin was so greasy and dirty that it looked like I had gotten a severe tan. Malfoy's hair had now changed from a whitish-blond to a pitiful, sick, almost brownish-green-gray.
Well, anyway, it was my turn to go out to get water. We had constructed a bucket made out of clay, so we could always have some, in case Malfoy's Dark fire went awry. So, I was filling it up at a stream nearby, when I saw a streak of red bolt through the sky. Startled, I dropped the makeshift bucket in the river. It was washed off downstream before I could do anything about it, but I didn't care. I heard a squawk behind me, and I whirled around.
It was Fawkes.
I was so happy I could have cried. In fact, I do believe I did. He landed on my arm, and started chattering to me. Of course, I couldn't understand a ruddy word it said, but no matter. It was a couple of moments before I got over my happiness over seeing something familiar, but then I found he held something in his beak, and he dropped it on the ground. Picking it up, I found that it was a long, dark shaft of wood. A wand. I looked at it closely, and waggled it. Red power streaked up my arms. I screamed, but the sound was rudely stifled by something. I gasped, and I breathed in some of the red mist stuff. It was heavy and thick, and I collapsed to the ground.
When I came to, I found Fawkes leaning over me. He cawed at me, and I blinked. He had said something. Shaking my head, I squinted at the gray sky.
"What?" I heard something of a bird-sigh before Fawkes called again.
I said, you need to get back to the school, right now! I'll lend you and your friends a lift, if need be. I nearly fainted.
"WHAT? You-you just talked talked to me! I don't talk to birds! I can't-" Fawkes was obviously not in the mood to listen to my babble, and he showed it by knocking me over the head with one of his wings. I learned the hard way that Phoenix's have very strong wings.
Shut up! That's Dumbledore's wand! You can't talk to birds, but he could. It's the wand. When you're done with it, you won't be able to talk to me anymore. Just grab hold, and let's go!
I did so, and felt an incredible lightness pass through my arms, right into the tips of my toes. Stuffing the wand deep in my bedraggled robe pocket, Fawkes took me back to the cave, and landed me in front of the opening. I raced in the cave.
"We're going back to the school," I said abruptly when I got to where the other refugees were. "Put out that fire, Malfoy." Malfoy blinked sleepily at me.
"Why are we going back to the school, Granger?" he asked. But, he heeded my orders, and wiggled his fingers, making the flames play down, until there was nothing but charred logs and kindling where the purple bonfire had been before. I paused before answering.
"A little bird told me to, that's why." I chuckled as I thought of the stupid pun. Of course, nobody else laughed; they had no idea what I was talking about. But I didn't care, really.
"Everybody, lets move it!" I walked outside, where the red bird was waiting.
I didn't know that there were so many of you. Oh well. No matter. Just hold hands, and I can take all of you.
I related what the bird said to the rest of the group, and they all eyed me warily, like I was going insane. I probably was, but that wasn't the point.
"Hermione," Draco said, trying to talk some sense into me. But that doesn't make any sense, because he doesn't have any sense. But, no matter. "That bird cannot possibly carry forty people at once. I lost patience.
"Take my hand, Draco whatever-your-middle-name-is Malfoy," I threatened, "or I will think of some nasty curse that will turn your skin green and give you horns." It was a stupid threat, but it worked, nevertheless. He scanned me with those icy eyes of his, and grabbed my hand. An odd sensation shot through my body when he did that. Skin on skin contact with him made my toes tingle, for some stupid reason. He obviously was having the same reaction, because when he ordered the first years to do the same thing, his voice was an octave or so higher.
"Lucas," he muttered to me when I grabbed Fawkes's tail. He started to flap his wings, and I grimaced as the too-light feeling shot through my bones again.
"What?" I asked as the crimson bird started to take flight. He sighed impatiently.
"Lucas is my middle name. It might be helpful next time you decide to threaten me by turning my skin green." I grinned.
"Lucas after your father?" My feet started to leave the ground.
"No. His name is spelled L-u-c-i-u-s, and my middle name is spelled L-u-c-u-s." We had started to leave the ground, when he spoke again, more quietly this time. "Just for the hell of it, what is your middle name?"
"Felicity. I think it's after my grandmother, but my father didn't like the name enough to use it as a first name." We were soaring through the air now. When I looked down at him again, I noticed that his eyes were tightly shut, and he was gripping my hand so hard it hurt.
"Hey. What's your problem?" I asked, digging jagged fingernails into his pallid flesh until he opened watering gray eyes.
"I...I hate...hate heights," he stammered pitifully. I couldn't help it. I started to laugh. It felt wonderful. My stomach started to hurt like hell, but it was still wonderful. Malfoy didn't share my glee.
"It's not funny, Hermione Felicity," he grumbled to himself while I went on laughing, until my eyes were watering so hard, they could be accounted for as tears.
We made it to the school. I stopped laughing immediately. It was a terribly flesh-chilling sight. I could feel a wave of terror sweep through the chain of people that we had. We landed.
Half of the place was burnt to the ground, a mangled heap of black stone and metal, with the ashes of the wooden parts of the castle smeared over the ground. The other half that wasn't burnt was practically crumbling, and the entire place seemed to shimmer eerily, a sign of the magic that was used. It made my flesh crawl up my arms. But, far worse than any of this, were the bodies that were strewn all over the place, some charred, some lying there, just like they were sleeping.
I was not the only one who screamed. We, all forty-two of us, started tearing the ruins apart, trying to identify the burnt, magicked, ravaged bodies. The sky was a copy of the dreary emptiness that I felt as I sorted through the corpses. Friends, enemies, and people I didn't know yet were scattered throughout the school, like grotesque confetti.
If you're hoping for a death list, don't hold your breath. There are too many. I'll just say this....Professor Snape will never again take points from Gryffindor, McGonagall won't smile at me again for turning a match into a needle. Sprout will not grow another plant. Lavender Brown won't score a Quidditch goal; Patil Parvil will not cheer her on. Ginny Weasley will not swoon over Harry any more. Crabbe and Goyle will not stand stupidly next to Malfoy, cracking their knuckles ever again. Harry....Well, Harry and Ron were good friends, and they met fate together, defeated Voldemort so many times before together...and now they will touch the face of God together.
I broke down into passionate sobs. I was not the only one. I remember hearing agonized screaming from behind a turret and I drug myself off the ground to comfort the little first year, that must have lost a sibling. Well, did I get a jolt when I saw that it wasn't a first year. It was Draco Malfoy, leaning over the body of his ghost-white, paler than normal, not-breathing father. I had forgotten. Obviously he didn't notice me there. Agony turned to anger in him.
"How dare you die on me! I did not put up with you for seventeen years to have you die on me, Father! Get up, damn you!" I would have laughed if the situation were not so deadly serious. He started striking his father's body viciously, and I admit, I was afraid. He was scary. It took all my strength to steel myself to put a hand on his shoulder. When I finally did, a pair of red-rimmed gray eyes rewarded me, no longer looking forbidding or icy, but terrified and full of grief. Anger converted into another emotion for him: sadness. He started to sob into my helplessly worn bathrobe. I didn't know what to do. But seeing him like this made me start on again, crying into his hair. I don't know how long we stood there like that. But we did, until I heard a gratingly familiar voice behind me.
"Ahhh. I see the runaway darlings have come back to get fried also." Obviously, it was Voldemort. Whirling around, I faced the green spirit with broken body and mind. We stood there, until Draco's eyes got wide, and he grabbed my wrist.
"MOVE IT!!" he cried, and drug me off. I was about to ask why, but when I turned around again, I saw there there was a crater where I once stood. Voldemort went on following us, and it began to pour. Lightning struck in the distance. It was like the setting for some drama story, which I'm afraid that this is turning into.
We turned the corner, and we were on the side of the still-standing part of the building. Draco spotted a staircase, and we sprinted up it. Everything was going in slow motion in our brains, and I was weak and knock-kneed with a clash of fear, sadness, and a hint of anger thrown in for good measure.
I knew from the familiar architecture that we were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts hallway. Even though it hadn't been burnt to the ground, it had been thoroughly charred, the walls were coated with a black substance, and there were only picture frames, and metal fragments scattered about the floor, along with a corpse that was hanging half out a window. I didn't take the time to cry over it, I just kept on running. It was like one of those nightmares that you keep on running, and running, and not getting anywhere. We twisted and twined around the corridor, with Voldemort's green glow at our back, laughing at our fear. It also reminded me of what Crookshanks does to a mouse before he kills it. Catching it, batting the mouse around in his claws, and letting it go again. When he got finished with the poor mouse, it was probably so battered and beaten that death must have been a relief. I couldn't let that happen to me!
Grabbing Draco's hand, I yanked him to a hole in the woodworking of the wall. Looking down, I saw that we were atleast five stories up. If we jumped, we would be lucky to get away with our lives. Draco looked at me, cold sweat beading his forehead.
"You're crazy," he said, flatly. "There is no way in hell I'm jumping from here." I looked at him in despair, wanting both to knock him over the head, and cry at the same time. Voldemort's ominous laughing was getting nearer and nearer. Draco swallowed.
"Disregard what I just said, Hermione," he sighed. "Dear God, if you allow me to live through this, I promise I will be good forever and ever." He peered over the side of the castle, and I could see his fear escalating. "I hate heights," he whimpered. But then he looked over at the green glow of Voldemort, and bit his lip. His grip on my hand was bone crushing.
"Draco, you're hurting me," I complained, looking down at the ground. When he let go of my hand, I grabbed it again, and in an act of stupidity, hurled myself off the landing, my weight dragging Draco along with me. I screamed. He screamed.
I felt myself going lightheaded as the rain whipped my skin, and the damp air passed by me. After I got over the initial shock of dropping through empty space, I began rather to enjoy myself, actually. It was quite elating. Even Draco stopped screaming. Our eyes locked for a brief moment during the freefall, and I could see it in his eyes, and undoutably, he could see it in mine: we had both accepted what would happen when we inevitably would hit the ground. But the heavens had different ideas.
I don't know what happened then. But it seemed too big of a deal to be a coincidence. I heard voices ringing in my ears, familiar voices, those of Harry, Ron, Seamus, I even heard Nevelle. I thought it was just they welcoming me to the gateway of Heaven, so I shut my eyes, waiting for the moment of impact. Voldemort was laughing again, but I didn't care. I was going to a place where he could never follow, and I would be happy forever, or so I hoped. But the wind picked up. Hard. It whipped my matted tangle of hair away from my face, and made my skin ripple. I didn't hit the ground. My eyes opened, I knew that I wasn't that far above the ground. I nearly died, but this time of shock. The wind was keeping Draco and I held above the earth. My mind blanched. Sure, the wind was blowing hard, but, it wasn't hurricane force or anything. Draco was clearly as surprised as I was. Looking down, I noticed little particles of gold running along in the wind. We landed with a soft thud on the ground, and I looked up.
Voldemort was still there, looking thoughtful. I didn't know why, but I burst into tears. Part of it was from the grace of being saved. But, the other part was the fact that I was still living. I wanted to get away from my troubles; I didn't want to deal with this anymore! Death was almost welcome to my poor, aching body and soul. I heard voices.
Hermione, stop that. You don't want to die. I was startled. The voice was familiar, but distant and foggy. "Harry?" I whispered, not wanting to believe it. "But, you're dead, I saw your body..." I looked over at Malfoy. Was I going insane?
"Potter?" Apparently, I wasn't. His face was white, pale, and shaky.
Yes, Malfoy, you useless blockhead. Now go over there and comfort Hermione, you dolt! If this had been Harry in the living, Malfoy would have sneered. But, when there's a dead someone ordering you to do something, you don't argue. Draco stumbled closer and awkwardly put both arms around me in an embrace. It was pouring, we were both bedraggled and worn, not exactly ideal settings for a first romantic scene between my used-to-be mortal enemy and me. But, no matter. I didn't care. I could hear Harry snort.
Better, Malfoy. Next time, though, I shouldn't have to tell you to do it! Harry's voice disappeared from our awarenesses. But, my awareness was full of something else right now: the fact that almost every body part I possessed was now crunched up against Malfoy. I felt kind of dirty, but otherwise, actually, despite it all, quite content. Of course, we had forgotten Voldemort.
"How touching. The traitor and the Mudblood. Well, I'm glad that you both got to experience a bit of the emotion that you seem to hold to dear to your hearts, love, before I fry you." My face went ashen, as well did Draco's.
Voldemort raised a flaming limb, ready to do a death curse, when there was a yell behind me. Voldemort stopped, surprised, and looked. I whirled around, and I saw the group of first years, one of them with a wand. He gripped it with a fist curled around the wood, very improper, but it worked. A translucent beam of..of something whipped out of it, and struck Voldemort's essence, making him stall. It was long enough for Draco and I to untangle, and stand up from the muddy slop on the ground. I had no idea what to do now, run? Where to?
Dumbledore's wand knocked against my thigh. I gripped it and stared. What could I do? I knew numberless charms and little ditties, but no major curses. I mean, I know some, but, none powerful enough to vanquish the Dark Lord. Voldemort righted himself, and looked at us. He started to laugh again.
"Okay, now you can stand! You've got a wand? I'm shaking in my boots, little girl! I destroyed Hogwarts, all of its students and teachers, and you're going to try to stop me? Two, pathetic, idiotic little twerps and their gang of brats, against the greatest wizard of all time? Go ahead, I haven't had a good laugh in ages!" I found this hard to believe, since all he had done was laugh since the moment I met him.
A strange feeling erupted in the back of my stomach. It was happening to Draco too, as I saw him grip his abdomen and wince. An odd, tingling feeling spread over my entire body, seeming to wash over to the ends of my fingertips. It was cool, but pleasantly so. Darkness started to seep into the back of my brain. I panicked, I thought I was dying, but, then, oddly, I felt calm, and at ease with the world. White flashed over my vision, then black. My knees suddenly felt weak, and my body was too heavy for my legs, so I sat hard. Voldemort started to laugh again. I didn't care, anymore. My world was fading, and fading fast. If this was dying, I was really rather enjoying the experience. I felt a brief sensation of flesh over my hand: Draco's palm. With great effort, I turned my hand up, and gave his a brief squeeze. My world blacked out.
~*~*~
I put that divider there, so, if anyone will read this later, there will be no confusion. Well, I awoke in a strange place, with a sharp odor. My eyes fluttered open, and I found that I was in an infirmary of some sort. A nurse, with snappy green eyes and brown hair done up in a bun, noticed I was awake, and smiled. Walking over to me, she pulled my bed up to a sitting position, and me along with it. When she did so, I noticed that Draco was in the same room as me, and he looked, I'm sorry to say, terrible. His skin was the same ghostly white as the sheets in his bed. Of course, having gray eyes, white-blonde hair, and wearing a white hospital robe didn't help him much either. When he noticed that I was up also, he gave me a feeble smile, and went back to staring at the white wall in front of him. The nurse left the room, and came back in with two trays, that had a bowl of steaming porridge on them. I smiled when I noticed that there was a small sprig of lavender on the tray. But then I was reminded of Lavender Brown, and was saddened. The nurse didn't notice.
"Can you handle the spoon, dearie?" she asked, smiling at me. I looked at my hands, pale and limp at my sides. I honestly didn't think so, but I rallied my pride.
"I'll try." Well, as it turned out, I couldn't make my fingers grip the spoon, no matter how hard I tried. It was very degrading, being fed like I was two, but it was a small comfort to know that Malfoy was having the same troubles, and had to be spoon-fed also. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment as he accepted another spoonful of porridge from the nurse. When the bowls were cleared away, another nurse came into see us, this one with black hair in a ponytail, and blue eyes that x-rayed us.
"I suppose you'd like an explanation about what happened at the ruins of your school." His pride seriously hurt, Malfoy snorted.
"Yes, an explanation would be nice about now," he said sourly. I smiled, and would have hid it behind my hand, if I could move my hand. The nurse grinned curtly.
"Well, it will come to a comfort to you that the Dark Lord has been vanquished, for now." I sat up, and immediately regretted it.
"What?" I croaked.
"The magic that defeated the Dark Lord came from your body. But...it was odd magic, it was. It was...supernatural, if you will." Draco and I stared at each other.
"I don't know what it was. Nobody does. But, there is bad news. We had crews go over to the wreckage that once was Hogwarts, and we got the death count. I don't know what the exact number is, but you two and the Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor first years were the only ones who survived the mess." She looked at us sadly. "I'm sorry."
I was shocked. So shocked that I had to lean back to absorb it all. The nurse cleared her throat. "I don't want you two to think that this is your fault. You were right about getting the little kids who couldn't use wands out of the castle. It was the noble thing to do. You would have been killed also if you would have stayed." My eyes filled with tears, and the nurse got up and quietly left the room. Draco and I said nothing to each other. What was there left to say?
That's how my days passed. Sleeping, being spoon-fed oatmeal until we could eat it ourselves, and just thinking. That is, until tonight. It was like an omen. I've been sleeping so long, that I know I can't sleep anymore. I noticed that my old bathrobe and nightgown were wadded at the bottom of my bed. The moon appeared from behind a cloud, and illuminated the room perfectly. I got my broken quill out, the slightly cracked jar of green ink, and my ratty parchment out. God makes these kinds of nights for talking or expressing bottled feelings, and these are mine.
I don't think I can write anymore. Frankly, there is nothing else to say. I just have to wrestle myself into forgiving this tragedy, when so many others did not. I have the sick feeling that I will never forgive, and especially not forget.
# # #
I have picked up my quill again, for the sole reason that something elating to my body and soul happened that will cleanse this paper out.
Well, when Draco and I could leave the hospital, we got it worked out to where he could stay at my house for a few weeks while affairs at his Manor were being worked out. Funny, but, after being with him for four weeks, almost, I'm still not sick of him. Well, on with it.
Mum and Dad were rather reluctant a first to let a boy stay at our house, but after swearing on our lives that we wouldn't do anything sexual, they let him stay. Not that we can, since he sleeps downstairs on the couch.
One night, I was lying on my bed; it was around two, just thinking. The door creaked open, and I was not surprised to see Draco standing there, in a bathrobe. He shyly walked over and scuffed his foot up against the floor. "I can't sleep," he blurted out. I rolled my eyes.
"Obviously." He started giving me these big gray puppy eyes. I couldn't help but be reminded of a two-year-old that had just had a bad dream and was trying to make his parents let him sleep with them. I rolled over. "Fine." He grinned and lay on the bed with me.
As my bed is only single-person-sized, it was rather a close fit. We were both on our sides, and my nose was smashed up against his chest. I didn't mind a bit. Inhaling, I breathed in his scent: soap, deodorant (I had introduced him to the stuff the week before, and he was now obsessed with it) a spray of cologne, and a touch of sweat. After breathing in that scent for ten minutes, I was sleepy. Apparently, so was he. He put an arm around my waist, and we both fell asleep.
We both had the same dream. We were in the middle of a bright, soothing, misty nothingness, in our nightclothes, looking around. Shadowy figures started appearing out of the mist: Harry, Ron, Seamus, Cho, Nevelle, Crabbe, Goyle, Lavender, and everybody from Hogwarts were there, beaming at us. They were all wearing the same things; white wizard robes, with a thick, golden rope knotted around their waists. No wings or halos, but they were angels.
We are very proud of you two rebels, you know, came a voice from the crowd. Several other mistily familiar voices were there also. Seamus stepped forward.
You did a great thing, and we are all proud of that. But, we fear that we have made your life miserable by dying on you. Please, do not grieve. Harry smiled at Malfoy ironically.
You did all right, Draco Malfoy. Just don't be surprised if one day you badmouth me in front of your new friends, and you suddenly find yourself in your underwear. Ron and the other Gryffindors started to crack up. Draco laughed mockingly.
"Oh, aren't you just precious," he said in a high tone. Ron stepped in front of Harry.
But, seriously, we can't be happy here if you two are moping around all the time. So stop. We don't blame you, and we never had. In reality we are - he coughed and looked at Malfoy - grateful to you for making our deaths worthwhile. Don't you dare quote me on that, Malfoy. I grinned. Another figure stepped out from behind the curtain of teenagers, tall, silver-blond headed, and looking at Draco. It was Lucius Malfoy. Draco looked rather frightened, and I grabbed his hand protectively.
Son, he said. I don't think I have ever been so proud of a member of the Malfoy family from the day I was born. I just wanted you to know that. I also think that I owe you an apology, for not being there when you needed me when you were younger, and going to be there for you in the future. But, I think I need to say this, and I don't ever think I said it before. I love you. He continued on, sounding gruff. You may have thought that I didn't, but I did, and I still do. Lucius Malfoy rubbed his forehead. Forgive me, but I did mean every word I just said. I'm just not that good at these heartwarming speeches. He smiled at Draco. I've had more practice doing the other kind.
Draco looked utterly shocked. I admit, I felt the same way. But, he was shocked behind words. His bottom lip curled under, and he started to sob. Lucius smiled and enveloped his son in a hug. I grinned, and I looked at the angels of my friends and grinned again. For the first time in weeks, I had gotten a feeling of lightheartedness, it was as if someone had cut off chains off of me, and I felt that I could fly, if I wanted to. The dream started to dim, and the last thing I heard before returning to the world as I knew it was Ron's voice.
Just don't get in too much trouble, you two, all right?
~*~*~
I awoke, feeling shocked. I peeled my nose off of Draco's chest and looked up at him, to ask him if he had had the dream also. I didn't need an answer, as he was practically sobbing into my pillow. Wrenching an arm free, I grabbed a handkerchief from the bedstead and started to mop his face off. He looked down at me.
"Never...said it...he never did....first time.." I gently shut his mouth, to keep himself from blubbering too loud.
"Sssshhh. It's okay." He looked down at me again, throat working, as if he was making a decision. I guess he did, because he leaned down and kissed me gently.
"You're all right," he said, when he'd finished. "For a Mudblood, that is." I smacked at him with my damp handkerchief.
"Go downstairs, you," I said, feeling faint. "If Mum or Dad finds us in here, we'd join our friends up in heaven." He left.
Alone now, writing by the thin light the rising sun gives, I feel hopeful. Somethings happen to you that you can't change. Death is as real as life, and it can strike at any corner you turn. You can face that with courage, or fear, and I face it with both. My friends died for a noble cause, and because they died doesn't mean the sun is going to stop setting or rising, time will not stop, and death will continue it's cruel cycle. But love is forever. I will always love Ron, Harry, and everybody else. I will even love Crabbe and Goyle's memory, with that of an enemy's wary love. I am beginning to love Draco. And I know that they will always love me.
In my heart, I know that all of them, every single one, are at peace.
The End
Author's note: Well, it's astounding how fast you can write with a little bit of encouragement! Thank you for all of your inspiring reviews, they really made my day, and they gave me the get-go to write more. I hope you enjoyed it, and I think it ended happily, in a bittersweet way. Tell me what you thought! And if you didn't like it, no flames!
~Moxie ^_^
Disclamer: Once again, I do not own anything in this story! So please don't sue. It'd really put a damper on my day. ~_^