Hermione tossed her head and whimpered, her hands gripping the blankets of the hospital bed so tightly her knuckles were white. Several hours had passed since she had lapsed into sleep in Ron's arms, and her nightmare had returned in full force.
…Her legs gave way and she slid down the wall, landing on her knees at Voldemort's feet. She felt herself listing to one side and put out an arm to stop herself. Even through her intense pain and shock, she was fiercely determined not to collapse- not all the way- not to give Voldemort that power, that mastery over her. Supporting herself on one arm, with the other hand clasped to her head, a single thought ran through her mind; I will not lie down, I will not lie down!
But here the dream changed; it was now no longer an accurate reliving of events, but pure nightmare. This time, instead of having her eyes squeezed shut, they were wide open and fixed on Harry and Ron. As she watched, the two of them stopped pummeling the barrier, looking defeated. Slowly, wearily, they turned their backs on her… and started to walk away.
No- NO! She tried to scream at them; don't leave me! PLEASE don't leave me here! But the words wouldn't come. Desperately, she tried to throw herself toward them, but her body was leaden and would not obey her. And then they were gone, around the bend in the corridor and out of sight. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned back toward Voldemort just in time to see the booted foot rushing toward her, but this time it wasn't aimed at her stomach; this time it was coming right at her face and she knew suddenly that this was it, final curtain, lights out, and she opened her mouth one last time to scream-
"Don't leave me!" she cried hoarsely, once again sitting bolt upright in bed without being consciously aware of doing so. It was dark in the room- the middle of the night- and something was restraining her; she began to thrash about frantically. It was the bedclothes; she was all tangled up. Then strong arms encircled her, pulling her into a tight embrace, holding her fast though she continued to struggle.
Her hoarse cries gave way to tears, and she sobbed herself into exhaustion, vaguely aware of the gentle voice shushing her, of the hand stroking her braided hair, of the steady heartbeat within the solid chest she was pressed against. These things soothed her gradually until she lay quite still, her head nestled comfortably in the hollow of (who's holding me? Harry? Ron?) the boy's throat. Finally, as her breathing lost the ragged catch of too many tears and returned to normal, she felt a feeling of security wash over her in a slow wave- just as she had when Harry first gathered her into his arms after the rape, she felt safe again, and loved.
What a stupid dream, she chided herself as conscious thought returned. They would never leave me, never. Still, it seemed so real, so vibrant, as the worst nightmares often do. She was aware that she was still trembling slightly.
"I had the most awful dream," she said once she trusted her voice. "I dreamed you left me alone with….. him. And then he killed me," she continued in a rush, feeling faintly foolish now but wanting to get the images from the dream out of her mind and into the open, feeling it was important, like sucking poison from a wound. "I woke up just as he- just as I-" she shuddered, and felt the arms about her tighten protectively.
"It's dumb, I know," she said, almost apologetically. "You didn't leave- you never left- and you never would.…Harry…?" There was no response, so she tried again. "Ron…?"
And now she felt more than heard the boy sigh, and then a soft voice from just above her head whispered "Accio wand," and a moment later, "Lumos."
The room was bathed in a dim glow; she could sense it through her eyelids though she still had her eyes closed. Then she felt herself being lowered gently back onto her pillow and she opened her eyes to stare straight into the narrowed, intense eyes of-
"Draco!" she gasped in amazement.
He was leaning close over her, so close that his silver blond hair fell forward over his brow and brushed her forehead. With his hands planted on either side of her pillow, he was regarding her intently as he had done countless times over the last several days, but now she was looking back, and concern battled with relief in his pale blue eyes.
"Wha- what are you doing here?" she stammered. "It's the middle of the night! Professor Snape- you'll get in so much trouble! And the other Slytherins- what will they say? They'd make your life miserable if they knew you were here, that you're friends with a Gryffindor. You have to go, now! Sneak back to your dorm. I'm not worth the kind of trouble you'll be in!"
Tears were standing out in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of distress over the welfare of her friend. Draco, however, set his jaw determinedly and refused to budge.
"I heard you woke up earlier today," he said abruptly. "Did Potter or Weasley tell you how long you were out?" She shook her head mutely. "Over a week," he said, then added as her eyes widened, "and I was here every single day, for hours. I would have been here twenty-four hours a day just like they were, but Dumbledore wouldn't allow it." His voice was tinged with resentment. "So needless to say," he added, "the Slytherins know. Everyone knows. Including Professor Snape."
Over her intake of breath, he continued; "As for the Slytherins-" here he looked away, not quite able to meet her eyes as he said in a rush, "they can go bugger themselves, the lot of them. All of them put together aren't worth my friendship with you." When he met her eyes again, the expression on his face was one she had never seen before; a very un-Draco-like expression that bordered on…shyness. "And as for Snape," he said, "he's spent quite a bit of time in here himself. He was the one who carried you up here, in fact- I bet Potter and Weasley didn't tell you that either, did they?"
"No," she said, then, feeling a need to defend Harry and Ron, she added, "I wasn't awake for very long- ten minutes, maybe, before I conked back out again."
"Well he did, and he's been here several times since to check on you, and to bring you potions that he thought might revive you," Draco said. Hermione felt oddly touched.
"He knows I'm here now- he tried to get me to leave earlier, but in the end I made him see sense. I couldn't stand the thought of you waking up alone in the dark, and he finally agreed it was for the best that someone stay with you- and tomorrow's Sunday, it's not like I have to be up early for class- so here I am." He smiled ruefully.
Hermione's mind was in a whirl- Professor Snape, who had called her an insufferable know-it-all more times than she could count, concerned about her? Draco willing to reveal their friendship and bear the wrath of the entire Slytherin House in order sit awake with her through the night? Finally she seized on one thing he had said that caused her even more confusion than the rest; alone in the dark. He couldn't stand the thought of her waking up alone in the dark, so there he was. But then-
"Where are Harry and Ron?" she asked suddenly, propping herself up on her elbows and quickly scanning the room. "I thought they would be here- I thought they were always here." She suddenly felt a knot of cold fear deep in her stomach, remembering her dream.
Draco looked pained, but when he spoke his answer was short and brutally honest; he had never been taught to soften a blow, either physically or emotionally. "They're gone," he said flatly. "They went AWOL shortly after dark. Not a lot of the students know yet, but the faculty is in a state. I figure they've gone after the Dark Lord- to avenge you."
00000
Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Harry gesturing and looked to the left. Seeing that he had caught Ron's attention, Harry gave a jerk of his head and another follow me gesture, then swerved his broom down and to the left, toward a stand of trees. Ron followed, relieved at the prospect of a rest on the ground. The two boys had been flying for a couple of hours now; they were protected from the worst of the wind by flying leathers they had filched from the quidditch supply shed and by warm woolen traveling cloaks, but even so, by now Ron could feel a deep, aching cold throughout his body. He thought of the bedroll he had slung across his back, and hoped they were landing for the remainder of the night.
The boys touched down seconds apart, each dismounting stiffly, numb from cold, and leaning their brooms carefully against the trunk of the nearest tree. Their eyes met for a moment, the only part of their faces visible, as they both wore woolen scarves wrapped several time around their necks and chins, and up over their mouths and noses. In nearly identical gestures, they pulled the scarves down past their noses and mouths, then breathed deeply, their breath puffing white in the chill air. Ron ran both hands through his hair while Harry, looking weary beyond belief, pressed the heel of one hand hard against the scar on his forehead and sagged back against a tree.
"Hurts?" Ron grunted, knowing, by virtue of long friendship, that Harry would understand his single-word inquiry.
"Yeah…we're getting closer," Harry replied, then shut his eyes, still massaging his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Let's stay the night here- we'll need to be well rested for what we hope to do." He shrugged off his bedroll and then slid slowly down the trunk of the tree until he was sitting at its base, his head drooping forward tiredly. Ron sighed, shrugged off his own bedroll, and silently walked off into the trees to gather firewood.
He returned several moments later with an armful of wood, knelt before Harry, who hadn't moved, and piled the wood carefully on the ground. Then, taking out his wand, he traced a circle in the dirt around the wood and murmured a simple spell to keep the fire he was about to set contained within the circle. Finally, he touched the tip of his wand lightly to the uppermost piece of wood and muttered "Incendio." A small, cheerful, smokeless blaze appeared at once. Ron murmured one more spell which would allow the fire to burn all night and give off a quantity of heat far out of proportion to its small size, then returned his attention to Harry.
"Why didn't you ever tell me before?" Ron asked, "about your scar working like a tracking device? Why didn't you ever tell me it could lead you to…You-Know-Who?"
Harry raised his tired eyes to Ron's. "I didn't know for a long time," he said. "I only started to suspect last year. And even once I was fairly certain, it didn't seem all that important…not in an immediate sense, anyway. I mean, I always knew I'd hunt the bastard down eventually- if I didn't manage to kill him- or vice versa- during one of the times he came after me- but I also always figured I'd graduate Hogwarts first, and maybe get some Auror training too, you know? But now, this…what he did to Hermione…it's different from all the times he attacked me personally. Then I could bide my time, tell myself to keep learning, keep getting stronger, be patient…..but not anymore. This needs to be answered RIGHT NOW."
He shifted his gaze so that he was looking past Ron, out into the darkness. "Mess with my friends and I WILL come after you, you dirty son of a bitch!"
"Don't you think maybe that's the point?" Ron asked quietly. "Don't you think maybe the whole intent was to lure you away from Hogwarts before you're ready?"
Harry was quiet for a moment, reflecting. "I don't think so," he said at last. "I don't think this was some elaborate plan to lure me into a trap. He could have killed me right there at school; in fact, I'm sure that's what he came to do- he couldn't have had any idea that Hermione would walk around that corner first. He probably just assumed that I would be in the lead. And then when he saw her he just…..acted impulsively. Impulsively decided to rape her and impulsively decided to leave me alive in order to suffer by witnessing her suffering. He means to finish me off in his own good time, after he thinks I've suffered enough. No, I think us coming after him is the last thing he'll expect. But even if I did think it was a trap, Ron-" now he shifted his eyes back to Ron's and Ron could see green fires blazing in their depths- "even if I did think it was a trap I wouldn't turn back. Would you?"
Ron paused for only a second, then shook his head decisively. "No. Hell no."
A moment later Ron unfurled his bedroll and retrieved a bag of food he had secured in the very middle. He tossed Harry a sandwich and the two friends ate in silence, then settled down on opposite sides of the warm little fire to sleep.
An indeterminate amount of time later, Ron opened his eyes to see Harry sitting up again, staring fixedly into the flames with his jaw clenched and tears slipping silently down his cheeks. "Harry?" he said, raising himself on one elbow.
"Uh?" said Harry, eyes not leaving the flames.
When next Ron spoke, his voice was quiet and somehow….defeated. "You love her too, don't you?"
Slowly, Harry dropped his face into his hands. It was all the answer Ron needed.