Breaking Storm

Disclaimer: don't own characters, just the plot.

Congrats Joanne, for getting accepted into Point Loma!!

Okay, so the oddness ensues in this fic. You may not get it at first, but it's bound to make sense later. I'm working on the whole plot, besides the romance, but also how the romance is going to tie into it. Some of you may think that the whole book idea was stupid, especially the affect it had on Hermione, but keep in mind that this is Hogwarts.. And of course, Salazar Slytherin made the Library. Some ideas or stuff in here might be incorrect, and it doesn't really have anything to do with any events that happened in the books- I don't want to mess with any of the Voldemort and Harry stuff. I'm afraid I might absolutely ruin it or mess it all up, and so I'll just leave it to all of you fantastic writers out there that can take on that kind of stuff. And of course, JK Rowling, that wonderful woman.

I hope you all are enjoying Breaking Storm, and please do not forget to review. I really want to know what you think about this fic so far.

Have a great day,

tearsofher.

"Unless commitment is made, there are only promises and hopes; but no plans."
-Peter F. Drucker

Chapter Ten: Disappear

Draco held her, as her whimpers soon subsided and she just clung onto him, trembling. His eyes were shut tight, focused on the feeling of her in his arms, of her heart beating against his rhythmically. He felt fear swirling and mixing with worry and concern deep inside him, a sour but sweet taste in his mouth. He swallowed hard, holding her as close to him as possible. Questions were swarming in his mind, the book, her screaming and yelling, the look of fear, pain and haze in her eyes. She had been hurt, but he didn't know what else had happened. Her screams and cries were still chiming in his ears, the way she had cried out his name echoing and never fading. There was great sadness and agony in her voice, when he had heard and came rushing towards her. Why had she called out his name? What had happened to her? Did she need him? Was she calling out to him because she needed him?

"You promised me," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "You promised me you wouldn't lay a hand on it. You promised me you weren't going to go near it."

Hermione's world still spun, the roaring still in her ears, now only indistinctly. But she was well aware of the pair of strong arms holding her so firmly; only her mind wasn't functioning as fast and well as usual. She couldn't quite comprehend that it was Draco who was holding her. She still saw the pictures in her head, Draco dead and pale, her mother soaked with blood.... She dug her head into his chest further, closing her eyes tight, and wishing it would just go away. Her skin still tingled, and she even felt faint moisture on her skin where the stinging rain had come down hard on her. She was shaking, quivering, her hands burning but cold, searching for some kind of warmth to wash the buzzing feeling plastered on her fingers and palms. She could smell him as she was laid against him; he smelled of fresh night air and rain. His embrace warmed everything inside of her, her heart now beating slowly but hard, pounding in her ears. She could hear him breathing; feel his breaths on her skin. She could suddenly feel something swell and mount in her, and she felt as if she was spiraling, dizzy.

Without warning, a chill overcame her as she remembered the lady holding out her hand, as if asking her to accept it. She remembered the wind that penetrated through her, almost crushing her lungs. She let out a long, ragged sigh against his chest, wishing that he would hold her tighter, and never let go.

He held her tighter against him.

Just then, she became aware of what he was whispering to her. Her heartbeats ceased in her ears as she heard him say her name. Hermione. She was sure she hadn't heard anything like it before--he said it with something deep that she could not find or hear when others spoke her name, or called out to her.

"You promised me," she heard him whisper. "You promised me." She suddenly stiffened in his arms, as everything started flooding back to her.

He hadn't been here. She was alone-- or she had been. Those whispers.... She was the only one here. He had been avoiding her, cutting off his visits here and any contact. She felt sadness and slight anger build up in her, thinking of him. But the fact that he was here, holding her, and he had broken the storm that she had been in here.... She was still quite in a daze. She didn't know what she was--if she was happy and grateful, or angry and sad. In an odd way, she was all of them at once. She could not explain the feeling; she wanted to push him away and yell and scream at him, make him understand, but she didn't want to leave his arms. She wanted to run from him and never see his face again, but she just wanted to be near him again.

"Hermione," he said as he noticed that she had tensed up. She sniffled, as she pulled back, and he dropped his arms to his sides. She looked at him, her eyes red and puffy, her tear-streaked face sad. He looked into her eyes meaningfully. Something seemed to be stirring inside his stomach, something acidic and sweet. But it felt as if it was consuming him little by little, the fluid eating away at his flesh.

"What are you doing here?" she said, her voice quiet and wavering. He looked at her, his silver eyes dark and his expression serious. He ignored her question, knowing what she meant and that he didn't have the answer.

"What happened?" he asked her, and she just shook her head.

"You weren't here. You weren't. What are you doing here now?" He just looked at her, digging for the answer or explanation, but knowing that he had none.

"Hermione," he said, "what happened with that book?" She looked at him, her eyes still glossy and dark.

"No," she said, "answer me. What are you doing here now? What are you doing here, Draco? You haven't been here for the past two weeks, and I was all alone, reading, and you weren't here. You weren't, Draco!" Hermione's voice was strained and wavered greatly, as if she was on the brink of tears again. Frustrated, Draco grabbed her by the shoulders. Her face was only inches from his.

"What happened, Hermione? Just tell me what the book did to you," he said angrily. Hermione cried out and pushed him away, and he staggered back, but as she tried to run away, he caught her. He held her arms, tightly, and tears started forming in her ears again. His fingers were digging into her skin painfully, and his gaze staring into hers brought back those visions. He had been dead. Cold. He hadn't been breathing. Suddenly, tears were flooding down her cheeks again, and she was breathing hard, as if her lungs had been trampled on and injured. She saw it all over again.

"She was choking you," she cried out, "her arms were around your neck and I tried running to you, to try and stop her, to save you, but I couldn't. I couldn't," she gasped in air. "You were dead. She had killed you, she had killed you! You were cold, and you weren't breathing, and-" she broke down into sobs, words completely lost to her now. She saw it so clearly. Everything. It was enough to break her, to claw at her heart until it was torn into shreds.

"What?" Draco said to her, completely lost. "Did you see that? Who was choking me?" Hermione only nodded, not able to speak as she tried to cover her face with her hands, her heart getting crushed into pieces as it all returned to her again.

"What did.... What happened to you? What did it do to you?" He let go of her arms, the cold air stinging her skin, and raised his hands and lowered hers from her face. His silver gaze searched through hers, and she felt a slight calm again, but as she looked into his eyes, something bolted through her, icing and freezing her blood rushing through her veins, her heart numb. She saw her again. The woman was in front of her once again, holding out her hand, the snake slithering in and out through her fingers. Hermione jerked away as she staggered back, but the woman came closer and closer. Hermione backed away until suddenly, she felt her back lay flat against something hard and firm. The woman had her cornered, as she was only mere inches away from her. Hermione felt that bitter fear spread through her again. The room's temperature seemed to have gone down to freezing.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione cried out to the woman. "What do you want?"

Draco stared at her in confusion, and alarm. He looked behind him, but there was no one to be seen. He looked back at her, and her eyes were wide with terror and panic, her back pressed so firmly against the bookcase. She was white with horror, shaking. Tears still slid down her cheeks, but she never took her eyes off him.

"Hermione?" he said to her, "what's wrong? It's only me." She whimpered as he took a step closer, and she tried backing up some more. Draco tried to reach for her, tried to hold her, but she jerked away.

"What do you want from me?" she screamed, "what do you want?"

Dark blood fell from the woman's blank eyes and dripped from her pale, white lips.

"Get away from me!" Hermione screamed. "What did I do? What do you want from me?"

The woman's eyes empty eyes were fixed on her, and suddenly, she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Salazar," she said, her voice haunting and almost whisper-like. Hermione felt a cold shiver trace up her spine, as she felt goose bumps rise on her skin. Hermione swallowed, and opened her mouth speak, but she couldn't.

"Salazar," the woman said again, and Hermione noticed it was sounded almost like hissing.

"I-I- I don't know Salazar," said Hermione, terrified.

"Salazar," she repeated, as she came closer.

"Salazar's dead," she said, so cold she was shivering and shaking much more than before. "He died ages ago."

"Salazar is immortal," she said. "He can never die. He is here. I know it. I can feel it. I need Salazar."

"He isn't here," Hermione said. Just then, the woman's eyes got wide, and Hermione felt a forceful blow that caused her back to push against the bookshelf painfully.

"I need Salazar," she said again. "He knows you, I can sense it. You must know him. You know where he is."

"I don't know where he is!" Hermione cried out. "Who are you? What do you want with him?"

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but all of a sudden, she felt as if a strange, hazy mist had been wrapped around her, and the woman began to fade. She heard a voice, yelling out her name. It was Draco. She felt a hand grab her arm, as the mist encircled her. The woman had vanished.

She felt someone jerk her forward, and abruptly, she was out of the cold and mist. She was breathing hard, clutching her chest, and feeling as if she had held her breath for far too long. Draco was holding her arm tightly.

"Hermione? What's wrong? What happened?" he asked, concerned and fearful. Hermione shook her head, unable to speak.

"I-"but she jolted away from him, yanking her arm back. She panted. "I don't know." Her cheeks were still wet, damp from her tears, but she could not cry, no matter how hard her heart seemed to be getting smashed and ruined, her body weak and sore. Her mind was stinging with shots of pain that surged through her body. Draco looked at her in disbelief that soon turned into anger and frustration.

"Damn it, Hermione," he yelled. "Just tell me, all I'm trying to do is protect you!" Hermione felt something snap inside of her, like an overstretched bind. She felt hot, bubbling anger rise in her.

"You're trying to protect me?" she said to him, angrily. "Did you feel it was just about time to see how I was doing in here, to see if I haven't broken your promise yet? You want to know what happened? You weren't here. You weren't here, Draco. And I know that was on purpose. And, maybe if you came then you would know. Maybe then you would be able to protect me." Draco felt his fury take over.

"So this is my fault? It's my fault that you opened the bloody book? It's my fault you're screaming at me because I wasn't here when you wanted me to be?" he yelled. "It doesn't work that way. It just doesn't, Hermione! I told you I wasn't going to be in here all the bloody time. I thought you understood."

"Understood what? That you would treat me like an actual human being one minute, then act as if I was invisible the next? Just what did you think I understood, that you were allowed to treat me that way and so differently when we're alone?

"You're right. It doesn't work that way," she said to him.

"Would you bloody listen to me, Hermione?" he shouted. "We never had an agreement. We never put down any rules. I never said we were friends, I never said I was going to treat you differently just because I showed you this damn library. I never said I wanted anything from you. I never said I needed you to need me, to be my friend. I don't need it. I don't need any friends. I don't need you." He sighed sharply.

"Just because I showed you this library, it doesn't mean anything's changed. Nothing's changed. You're...you're still...."

"A mudblood," she finished off, her voice breaking and shaky. Her eyes were becoming glossy again, tears sliding down her cheeks, her hands clenched into tight fists. Draco looked at her, feeling his heart break inside for saying those words.... But they were true. He had never said they were friends. He had never said anything was to change between them after.

Deep down, regret and guilt was cutting through him painfully. He knew it was a mistake. His words. It was all a lie. But right now it felt right. The right kind of lie. Even though it was all wrong. He felt as if it was far too hard for him to swallow, as he looked at her, trembling, pale and crying silently. He wanted to take it back, all of it. But as he opened his mouth to say something else, he closed it. He couldn't take any of it back. He couldn't. Not when it all had been said. He knew his words were too painful to take back, too painful and hurtful to ever fade away or forget.

Hermione was looking down at her feet, her vision blurry and hot tears raining down to the floor. The silence was deafening, but his voice still rang in her ears, his words destroying everything inside of her. She had been wrong. About him, about everything. She should've known. If only she believed herself when the assumption was all too expected to vanish or fade.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly said, her voice quiet and sad. Draco heard the splitting of his heart loudly in his ears. She looked up at him, her dark eyes so pained and hurt more than he had ever seen before. It made him forget about breathing, his lungs hot and stinging.

"I'm sorry that I fell for it. I'm sorry that...I thought things had really changed. I thought I knew better to believe it, but you...you played quite an act," she paused. "Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," she said, and that stung Draco deep inside. He looked at her with hurt eyes, pleading, but she ignored it. It seemed as if she was too hurt to notice that he was hurt too, that he had also been convinced.... But she was too numb to feel any sympathy for him. He had hurt her. He had been the one to say those words. She looked away, as more tears chased down her cheeks, before she looked back at him again.

"I really thought things had changed," she said, her voice broken, shaking. He looked at her, speechless, feeling as if time had stopped brutally, making him see how much hurt he had bestowed upon her. So much hurt, he knew, that it hurt him too. As much as she was hurting. He stepped closer to her, but froze. He wanted to reach out and hold her in his arms, and tell her that he didn't mean it. He did need her, and he needed her to need him too. He wanted to be around her, needed to see her each and every day to feel as if he was truly alive and living.

He had ruined it. Ruined everything, smashed it into pieces to make sure that nothing was repairable or could be put back together again.

Just when he thought that he was so close to feeling happy or content in his life, closer to finding that missing piece to fill that void inside of him than he had ever been.. He had to lose it all. He had swiped all the puzzle pieces off the table and burned it until it was nothing but charred powder.

And suddenly, without another word, she left. She walked away, leaving him to stare after her, disappearing in the dark and behind the bookcase. The air seemed to become bitter cold around him, feeling as if everything he needed, everything he could possibly want, that had been right before his eyes...had disappeared. He had let her walk away. He had told her to walk away, told her that he never wanted...any of it. Any of it at all. He didn't tell her that he missed her so terribly that he could no longer keep from being with her here. He had told her that he couldn't possibly miss her.

He had told her everything that he would never mean in his life.

She was gone.

And he felt as if the very life in him was gone also.