Ickle Ronnikins Girlie : I dunno, why don't you read and find out?
Spaced Out Space Cadet : Am I evil? I only seek to prolong AGOOONY!!! I have updated as soon as possible!!!
Morgan : Finish I shall, sort of. I am not done yet.
Darkmoon of Shadows : Am I good at cliffhangers? COOL! I am happy that you are still happy, and here is the next installment of Reading Your Soul.
Mudpie : He's mean enough? Okie dokie then. It's touching now too? I hope it's not corny touching. You would LIKE to be able to dystroy the universe? Hmm. . .
A random person : I am evil? Hmm, okay. Thanks for liking the Fanfic, hope this chapter is up to your standards.
Lady Scarlettl : I made YOU go insane? No!!! Be sane enough to read more! Scratch that itch and read.
Artemis MoonClaw : Woo hoo! I did my job! Don't worry, I will continue! I love it too!
~The Simon Cowell of Fanfiction.net~ : Yes, more!
ILUVRONWEASLEY : No, cliffhangers are not stupid! They make people come back just to see what happens next! Yes, I agree with Ron's words, don't you?
Freakyfairy : Everyone thinks I am evil. Don't scream, READ.
Slytherinangel922 : Hmm, Slytherin angel? Thanks for the compliments! And read mooore!!!
RebelRikki : I love it too, I will keep writing, and here's what happens next!
Dreaming One: You think I'm evil too? Maybe I am. So, you think I have natural ability? Well, thank you very much, not very many people have told me that before, and it sounds so cool! Yes, I agree, my writing isn't perfect, but I am blissfully unaware of what is wrong with it (hint hint). Now, I don't think that mine is better than yours though, I was reading yours, and it is better than mine. Yes, I am aware that you want romantic development, next chapter, I already had that planned out! I am also happy that you like not knowing what is going on in Draco's head, because that is the way it is going to be! =D I KNOW it was corny, but it was kinda needed for the plot, and PLEASE don't imagine Hermione and Draco as superheroes! That is NOT gonna happen, alright? I've never read the Oracles story, but maybe I will. Also, Dumbledore's lack of punishment will be explained later, and you may think why is CORNY but, oh WELL! I like it, so you can pretend to, or just write a million reasons why it is corny, as long as I get a review =D. I am glad you love the story, and I would like it if you continued reading. I enjoy reading your reviews because they have very helpful comments in them, and some things that I had overlooked suddenly pop up when I read what you have written. Please come back soon!!!
~+~
Alrighty peoples! Here is more.
I would appreciate that you give me some constructive crisicism because it helps me, and any questions you have, ask me and I'll see if I can answer them, or tell you that they come later. (PLEASE ask questions!)
~+~
Chapter 22
"Miss Granger, please report to the Headmaster's office, it's urgent." Professor McGonagall said and she was still shaking Hermione, who was trying to understand why she was being awoken so late at night and she was unaware of what was really happening.
Hermione couldn't function, she couldn't make her legs work, she couldn't make her eyes open more than mere slits in her head. Professor McGonagall disappeared the second she was sure that Hermione was awake. She just swept away out the door in a hurry, leaving Hermione to wonder what was going on.
Hermione couldn't remember much that she thought, although she did remember some of what she was thinking. Looking back on the situation, she plainly remembered thinking that she was supposed to go to the Headmaster's office for some urgent reason and she remembered thinking that she was supposed to be in bed, as the school rules clearly stated every student was not allowed out of their bed after ten o'clock, and that was all of her train of thought that she remembered, which was just as well, because the rest of it would have been disconnected and very irrational.
What would be so important that it would require Professor McGonagall to fetch her in the early dawns of the morning and bring her to the Headmaster's office? How could something be so pressing that she would have to be told now, as opposed to regular school hours?
Her mind wasn't working and she didn't remember what she decided she was really going to do, all of her thoughts were muddled together, but she did remember walking into the wall twice as she attempted to wake up and get herself dressed, however messily dressed she was.
Apparently she decided to go to the Headmaster's office, because Hermione vaguely remembered stumbling down the dimly lit corridor and groggily tripping down the stairs, and barely managing to make it to the Headmaster's office at all.
She couldn't think on her own and she nearly fell asleep while she was walking, but the very second she entered the headmaster's office her mind was awake in an instant and her stomach dropped.
She pushed open the door and walked in slowly, as though she were afraid of what may be on the other side. She cautiously closed the door and made a long process of latching it shut before she turned to look fully at Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his desk, for the first time in her life, he looked tired and old as he truly was.
His face seemed to be contorted into a look of pain and displeasure, but she couldn't be sure, because this man had seen so many different emotions before that she couldn't be sure what he was really feeling and what he was remembering or dwelling on.
Her heart sank as she looked at him. He looked like. . . well. . . he looked like hell had rung and the world was crashing down. He looked weary, an emotion that the brave, Albus Dumbledore seemed immune to feeling, but here he was, feeling the emotion and it was clearly written on his face.
She needed to say something, the silence was beginning to bear down on her and she didn't want it to last. Silence was almost worse than yelling in her book, and she had been enduring a lot of silence lately as she had been alone a lot, reminiscing about her father and remembering happier times in her now bleak looking life.
"Professor . . . sir . . ." Hermione began, but she stopped when she saw him hold up his hand to her words, however weary the hand was, it still had a commanding posture. She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He sat there; staring at her, as though he were reading her soul, and Hermione felt an odd sensation in her body, as though she were being x-rayed.
Hermione began to wish that he could not read her soul, she told herself that he could not see the stress and problems that littered her mind, and she couldn't stand to think that he was reading everything that she had worked so hard to conceal. Did he know? Did he know about her father? Did he know? Of course he knew, he was Dumbledore, who seemed to know all and see all.
Hermione couldn't look into his cool blue eyes anymore, she couldn't stand to let him read her deepest secrets, and she looked down at her feet. She had a feeling of pending doom filling her mind and soul, she knew something wasn't right, or else Dumbledore would have spoke already. Something was desperately wrong.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said finally after the longest period of silence that Hermione had ever suffered through and caused her to jump out of her skin. His voice was quiet and pained, his face set in what looked like grief.
"Yes?" She asked lightly, not wanting to know the answer.
"I am afraid I have to give you some bad news." He said quietly, even more quietly than he had before, and although Hermione had been expecting it, she still didn't want to hear the next words that were going to be coming out of his mouth.
She couldn't take any more bad news, her mind would overload, her brain would shut down completely, her emotions would explode from inside of her, she would shun any contact with another human being forever. She wasn't ready for what he said next, and she doubted she ever would be.
"Your mother is in the hospital. It appears she was caught in a rather large car accident. She is in critical condition and the survival margin is not high." Hermione felt her breath catch in her chest as she tried to breathe.
First her father, now her mother? Was he mother going to DIE? Dumbledore had said that the survival margin wasn't high, but that was now. She could hope for a miracle, and it could happen. In the back of her mind, a voice was saying that miracles are impossible.
She wasn't going to let her mother be healed the muggle way. She was going to go to the hospital and make her mother allow magical healers to heal her, she didn't care HOW much money it cost. Hermione was willing to give just about anything to keep from losing another parent.
"Professor I-" Hermione began, but Dumbledore stopped her once again and he himself spoke to her again, his voice stronger, but the weariness still showed through.
"You are to go visit her. She is in a muggle hospital slightly south of where you live. You will leave first thing in the morning - I suggest you go begin packing for a trip of three days or so. That is as long as this school can spare to go without you." Had this been any other time, Hermione would have wondered why the school would need her to be back after very few days, but seeing as she was having a mid-life crisis at the age of fifteen, she didn't care too much at the moment.
For the first time in her life, she was looking at Professor Dumbledore and realizing that he was an old man. She saw the wrinkles that covered his face, the sadness that burrowed into his eyes.
"Thank you, Professor." Hermione said and she turned to walk out. She barely remembered the walk across the office, and she only stopped when she heard his voice when her hand touched the doorknob. She turned to face him again.
"And Miss Granger," he said, a knowing twinkle somewhat back in his eye and it seemed to set Hermione's mind slightly at ease to see Dumbledore returning to his usual self.
"Yes Professor?" she said questioningly, wondering what else he would have to say, and hoping desperately, that it was good news that he was going to speak, or at least something neutral.
"There will always be, at Hogwarts, what your heart seeks most." He said in a very knowing voice, and the words sent a chill down Hermione's spine although there was nothing that her 'heart seeks most' that Hogwarts was capable of giving her.
Not right now.
"Thank you, Professor."
~+~
Hermione had basically run down the halls and she was now by her bed, throwing things into a bag to take with her. She wanted to be ready to leave as soon as she possibly could, she couldn't take any prolonged agony that she wasn't required to take.
She was so concentrated on packing that she didn't notice the movement from her dormitory partners, Draco Malfoy and what's-his-name. Had she noticed, she would have also noticed the murderous looks that Malfoy was giving her. From waking him up or for the curse, she didn't know.
"Disturbing my beauty sleep on purpose, Granger?" Malfoy asked sarcastically and Hermione wanted to sock him in the face, but resisted the urge, however strong it was. She wasn't supposed to hit Malfoy.
"Malfoy, no amount of sleep in the WOULD could make you beautiful." She said and she didn't bother to face him, she just continued packing.
"Mudblood, where are your mudblood parents?" he asked her, and Hermione felt like a volcano before it completely exploded. She could not explode. She would do something irrational again, and she was sure that Dumbledore would not be happy to worm her out of it again.
She had been thinking about that lately. Why hadn't she been expelled, or at least given many, many detentions? It made no sense to her at all, and she hoped that he wouldn't rethink his decision, because she liked it here, not at Azkaban. Most definitely. She would just have to stay rational.
Yet even as she told herself to stay rational, she felt no urge to do anything to him. The anger seemed to have evaporated from inside of her, leaving pain. All she felt was the familiar pulling sensation of her soul being pulled apart from inside of her. He was twisting the knife in the wound, making the pain so much worse that she wished that she would just die.
"Has your mother died yet?" he asked, still pressing the issue, and although Hermione knew that he didn't know what was happening, it still hit her hard when he asked that, with the possibility of her mother actually dying. Why didn't he just shut up already?
Hermione chose to ignore him and continue packing as fast as she possibly could. All she wanted was to get away from Malfoy. Every time she was around him an odd feeling erupted in her stomach and she couldn't place it, nor did she want to.
She was afraid of what she was feeling toward him, she didn't know how to understand it and she was afraid it could lead to more mistakes in her life. Everything that involved men in her life had turned out to be a mistake, and she wasn't going to make any more mistakes no matter what anyone told her.
"Maybe she got hurt in one of those muggle buggies." Malfoy continued, and Hermione felt her blood run cold. How did he know? How in the world did he know what had happened to her mother? Was he guessing? That had to be it, and it would give him so much satisfaction if she showed that that was the truth, she Hermione fought to keep her posture and expression neutral, but her mind was erupting.
How did he know? How did he know?
"And she's in the hopsicle." He continued, and Hermione couldn't suppress the small smile that lingered on her lips and she fought the urge to correct his word. It was a HOSPITAL, not a HOPSICLE.
". . .Dying. . ." Malfoy finished, and although she was refusing to look at him, she could tell, just by his voice, that he was bewildered now.
Good, she thought in a satisfied manner, he was just as confused about this as she was, which meant that neither one of them understood what was happening either.
"Story of my life," Hermione muttered and continued packing her things without pausing.
To her immense surprise, he also stopped talking and stood there, or at least she assumed that he stood there, because she didn't want to look at him no matter what the reason would be. She wanted, more than anything, to close him out of her life, and even though she knew this was impossible, it was something that she could almost look forward to, so she pretended it was true.
Yet, even though she said she wanted to close him out of her life, there was always something that told her not to, something that didn't want to close him away, but she always ignored it and ignored him.
Hermione stuffed the remaining items into her bag and she turned, glared at Malfoy, and then she swept out of the room with grace. She was going to spend three days away from Malfoy, convince her mother to be healed with magic, and restore her life to as close to normal as it was possible.
Smiling slightly as she remembered his poor use of the names of important muggle buildings, Hermione walked down the hall and sat in the entrance hall, right next to the large doors. She would be completely ready to leave on a moment's notice, and she wasn't going to waste any time unless it was necessary. She nodded off next to the doors sometime after midnight.
~+~
Hermione awoke, again, to the rough shaking of another person, she had expected it to be Professor McGonagall again, and when she looked up, she saw one of the last people that she wanted to be woken up by. Professor Snape.
"Granger," he said curtly, and Hermione nodded in response, she didn't feel like talking to him at the moment, and she felt a large surge of hatred toward him. She didn't want to have to share her pain with him, she didn't even want to be in the same ROOM as him, and now she had to travel into London with him.
"Professor," she said in the same curt manner, although with a hint of status, showing that she acknowledged the fact that he was a professor and that she was a student.
"Where exactly am I supposed to be taking you to?" he asked her in a sly whisper as though he didn't want anyone to hear him, and she was taken aback. She had no idea where he was supposed to take her, wasn't that something that he should have already known?
"Um, I think we're supposed to go to the hospital on 13th street near my house," she said, and she proceeded to tell him exactly how to get there, although she was thinking, while she was speaking, that telling Professor Snape how to get to her house may have been a bad decision, but it was too late to change that. They were already on their way.
~+~
Hermione and Professor Snape arrived at the hospital, from which he went into the bathroom, she heard a crack, and she knew that he had Apparated out of the muggle world, and she was left, in the hospital, to figure out what to do next.
It had NOT been a joyful trip. The only time he had talked to her was when he needed directions, and he sneered at her the whole time, as though he didn't want to waste his time on a 'pathetic mudblood'. Hermione found the whole thing childish, but knew better than to say so.
Hermione looked around and realized that she would have been lost if she didn't know her way around. Luckily, she knew what she was doing and where she was going, because she had been in a hospital before.
She walked purposefully up to the front desk and waited for the receptionist to turn her attention to her. She was chatting on the phone with some person named Charlottiea, which Hermione found to be a rather odd name, and was talking about how the man that did her nails the previous afternoon seemed to have been a total moron because yakkity yakkity yak.
Hermione lost her patience and cleared her throat loudly, to which the receptionist answered with a disdainful look before she turned around and continued talking, much to Hermione's annoyance.
She waited until the receptionist wasn't looking, and then she flipped through the book until she found the room that her mother was staying in, and she was relieved to find that she had been moved to a visiting room, which meant that she was no longer in critical condition.
Spirits much lighter, Hermione started making her way to room C 132 to visit her mother, but she stopped inside of the elevator. There was an elevator button for B and an elevator button for D, but there was nothing for C. Hermione thought this was odd, but paid it no attention and pushed the button for B, thinking that she could just walk up to the next level.
It became apparent, though, that there wasn't a single way to get to C floor, which could only mean one of two things. A, it would mean that it was a floor that only the doctors could access, or B, something was desperately wrong at the hospital, and Hermione needed to know which. It could be her fault; something from the magical world could have followed her here.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped out of the elevator (this was the fifth time she had rode it) and glanced around. So far, nothing looked out of place or mysterious, and she didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
She turned four more corners without any problems, but as she rounded the sixth, things started to happen.
She heard footsteps and the hairs on the back of her head stood on end. Something was coming. . . but as she waited in anticipation, it was just a team of nurses taking their break.
She continued walking when she was sure that they had seen nothing suspicious and that they were unharmed. It had taken her a while, though, because it was hard to 'decode their language' which seemed to be quite a few of them mixed into one.
Hermione continued walking, perhaps creeping would be more accurate, and she heard footsteps again, but this time it was different. The footsteps seemed to be dislocated, out of sync with the others.
She froze to listen, this was her first mistake.
Four hooded figures leapt out at her, and her first instinct was that they were dementors, but their hoods and capes were red, and she had no idea what this could mean. She heard the voices of the four figures yelling back and fourth, and she heard the last voice that she wanted to hear. It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"Take the Mudblood, Macnair." He ordered, and Hermione seized her one chance at getting away. Damaging Lucius's pride.
"Aww, is Lucius Malfoy afraid that a muggle born might be better than him, just like she's better than his rat-faced scum of a son?" Hermione asked in a baby voice, and she could almost see the steam emitting from Lucius's ears. She had hit a nerve.
"I wouldn't be afraid of you if you were Albus Dunderhead." He said in a sneering voice, and she could almost see his smirk, identical to Malfoy's, even though she couldn't see any part of his face other than his long nose, which she longed to break with a well-placed kick.
Lucius had drawn his wand and was already pointing it at Hermione, and she tried to play along, and pretend that she couldn't see the wand that was clutched in his hand. Two could play this game.
"That's Albus Dumbledore to you, Malfoy." She spat his name out and then she spat, for real, on his shoes. There was an instant uproar of swear words and insults that were all thrown at Hermione. This was her second mistake.
"Oh," she said in a ditsy voice. "I appear to have," from this point on, her voice became hard and angry. "Tainted the Malfoy pride. Tough. Luck." She said, and she drew her wand, of which, she was proud to say, was with her this time, she had learned her lesson from the ministry officials.
"Ohh, the Mudblood wants to play? We shall soon see who wins." One of the other hooded figures said, and they all pointed their wands at her.
"I can't believe that you needed to bring backup, are you afraid of me?" Hermione asked in a lording voice.
"I wouldn't need backup for a corrupt teenager any time any where. And, since you are about to die, I can tell you, with pleasure, that this is a new branch of spies, from Italy-" Hermione remembered what Draco (no, Malfoy) had said about his mother wanting to join the ranks of the Italian spies. Apparently she had won.
"And we are more powerful than any organization ever before."
"Organization?" Hermione said disbelievingly. "More like DISorganization." She said, heavy emphasis put on the first syllable, and she saw all of their wands jut toward her chest.
Stall, she thought in complete panic.
"You think you're more powerful than Voldemort?" she asked, and she saw a collective shiver run through the four figures.
"You dare say his name?" one of them asked, panic obvious in his voice.
"You dare not say his name?" she asked back, and she saw him shiver again, to which another red figure elbowed him hard. This was her third mistake.
"Goodbye, Mudblood." Lucius said, and Hermione's blood stopped moving.
Lucius began waving his wand in a complex pattern, just like the other Italian spells, and Hermione knew she was doomed. By the length of this spell, it was a deadly curse, it could have been the equal to the killing curse, she did not know for sure.
Hermione closed her eyes, trying to will her brain to think, move, do something, ANYTHING. She couldn't move, she waited for the curses to strike, but nothing happened. She heard no noise, and when she opened her eyes she had expected to have seen them Disapparate or something, but they were all there, unmoving.
At first she thought they were trying to trick her, but she watched as Lucius's hand dripped. And then again. His hand was transparent blue and so were his feet. Drip. She couldn't see his face but assumed that it was too. Drip.
Shit, she thought, he's an ice person.
And indeed it was true. Lucius Malfoy had been transformed into a hunk of ice, just like his other three companions.
Something hit Hermione, and she was gone.
~+~
A/N: What do you think NOW?
Read and Review!
--Saquoia--
Spaced Out Space Cadet : Am I evil? I only seek to prolong AGOOONY!!! I have updated as soon as possible!!!
Morgan : Finish I shall, sort of. I am not done yet.
Darkmoon of Shadows : Am I good at cliffhangers? COOL! I am happy that you are still happy, and here is the next installment of Reading Your Soul.
Mudpie : He's mean enough? Okie dokie then. It's touching now too? I hope it's not corny touching. You would LIKE to be able to dystroy the universe? Hmm. . .
A random person : I am evil? Hmm, okay. Thanks for liking the Fanfic, hope this chapter is up to your standards.
Lady Scarlettl : I made YOU go insane? No!!! Be sane enough to read more! Scratch that itch and read.
Artemis MoonClaw : Woo hoo! I did my job! Don't worry, I will continue! I love it too!
~The Simon Cowell of Fanfiction.net~ : Yes, more!
ILUVRONWEASLEY : No, cliffhangers are not stupid! They make people come back just to see what happens next! Yes, I agree with Ron's words, don't you?
Freakyfairy : Everyone thinks I am evil. Don't scream, READ.
Slytherinangel922 : Hmm, Slytherin angel? Thanks for the compliments! And read mooore!!!
RebelRikki : I love it too, I will keep writing, and here's what happens next!
Dreaming One: You think I'm evil too? Maybe I am. So, you think I have natural ability? Well, thank you very much, not very many people have told me that before, and it sounds so cool! Yes, I agree, my writing isn't perfect, but I am blissfully unaware of what is wrong with it (hint hint). Now, I don't think that mine is better than yours though, I was reading yours, and it is better than mine. Yes, I am aware that you want romantic development, next chapter, I already had that planned out! I am also happy that you like not knowing what is going on in Draco's head, because that is the way it is going to be! =D I KNOW it was corny, but it was kinda needed for the plot, and PLEASE don't imagine Hermione and Draco as superheroes! That is NOT gonna happen, alright? I've never read the Oracles story, but maybe I will. Also, Dumbledore's lack of punishment will be explained later, and you may think why is CORNY but, oh WELL! I like it, so you can pretend to, or just write a million reasons why it is corny, as long as I get a review =D. I am glad you love the story, and I would like it if you continued reading. I enjoy reading your reviews because they have very helpful comments in them, and some things that I had overlooked suddenly pop up when I read what you have written. Please come back soon!!!
~+~
Alrighty peoples! Here is more.
I would appreciate that you give me some constructive crisicism because it helps me, and any questions you have, ask me and I'll see if I can answer them, or tell you that they come later. (PLEASE ask questions!)
~+~
Chapter 22
"Miss Granger, please report to the Headmaster's office, it's urgent." Professor McGonagall said and she was still shaking Hermione, who was trying to understand why she was being awoken so late at night and she was unaware of what was really happening.
Hermione couldn't function, she couldn't make her legs work, she couldn't make her eyes open more than mere slits in her head. Professor McGonagall disappeared the second she was sure that Hermione was awake. She just swept away out the door in a hurry, leaving Hermione to wonder what was going on.
Hermione couldn't remember much that she thought, although she did remember some of what she was thinking. Looking back on the situation, she plainly remembered thinking that she was supposed to go to the Headmaster's office for some urgent reason and she remembered thinking that she was supposed to be in bed, as the school rules clearly stated every student was not allowed out of their bed after ten o'clock, and that was all of her train of thought that she remembered, which was just as well, because the rest of it would have been disconnected and very irrational.
What would be so important that it would require Professor McGonagall to fetch her in the early dawns of the morning and bring her to the Headmaster's office? How could something be so pressing that she would have to be told now, as opposed to regular school hours?
Her mind wasn't working and she didn't remember what she decided she was really going to do, all of her thoughts were muddled together, but she did remember walking into the wall twice as she attempted to wake up and get herself dressed, however messily dressed she was.
Apparently she decided to go to the Headmaster's office, because Hermione vaguely remembered stumbling down the dimly lit corridor and groggily tripping down the stairs, and barely managing to make it to the Headmaster's office at all.
She couldn't think on her own and she nearly fell asleep while she was walking, but the very second she entered the headmaster's office her mind was awake in an instant and her stomach dropped.
She pushed open the door and walked in slowly, as though she were afraid of what may be on the other side. She cautiously closed the door and made a long process of latching it shut before she turned to look fully at Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his desk, for the first time in her life, he looked tired and old as he truly was.
His face seemed to be contorted into a look of pain and displeasure, but she couldn't be sure, because this man had seen so many different emotions before that she couldn't be sure what he was really feeling and what he was remembering or dwelling on.
Her heart sank as she looked at him. He looked like. . . well. . . he looked like hell had rung and the world was crashing down. He looked weary, an emotion that the brave, Albus Dumbledore seemed immune to feeling, but here he was, feeling the emotion and it was clearly written on his face.
She needed to say something, the silence was beginning to bear down on her and she didn't want it to last. Silence was almost worse than yelling in her book, and she had been enduring a lot of silence lately as she had been alone a lot, reminiscing about her father and remembering happier times in her now bleak looking life.
"Professor . . . sir . . ." Hermione began, but she stopped when she saw him hold up his hand to her words, however weary the hand was, it still had a commanding posture. She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He sat there; staring at her, as though he were reading her soul, and Hermione felt an odd sensation in her body, as though she were being x-rayed.
Hermione began to wish that he could not read her soul, she told herself that he could not see the stress and problems that littered her mind, and she couldn't stand to think that he was reading everything that she had worked so hard to conceal. Did he know? Did he know about her father? Did he know? Of course he knew, he was Dumbledore, who seemed to know all and see all.
Hermione couldn't look into his cool blue eyes anymore, she couldn't stand to let him read her deepest secrets, and she looked down at her feet. She had a feeling of pending doom filling her mind and soul, she knew something wasn't right, or else Dumbledore would have spoke already. Something was desperately wrong.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said finally after the longest period of silence that Hermione had ever suffered through and caused her to jump out of her skin. His voice was quiet and pained, his face set in what looked like grief.
"Yes?" She asked lightly, not wanting to know the answer.
"I am afraid I have to give you some bad news." He said quietly, even more quietly than he had before, and although Hermione had been expecting it, she still didn't want to hear the next words that were going to be coming out of his mouth.
She couldn't take any more bad news, her mind would overload, her brain would shut down completely, her emotions would explode from inside of her, she would shun any contact with another human being forever. She wasn't ready for what he said next, and she doubted she ever would be.
"Your mother is in the hospital. It appears she was caught in a rather large car accident. She is in critical condition and the survival margin is not high." Hermione felt her breath catch in her chest as she tried to breathe.
First her father, now her mother? Was he mother going to DIE? Dumbledore had said that the survival margin wasn't high, but that was now. She could hope for a miracle, and it could happen. In the back of her mind, a voice was saying that miracles are impossible.
She wasn't going to let her mother be healed the muggle way. She was going to go to the hospital and make her mother allow magical healers to heal her, she didn't care HOW much money it cost. Hermione was willing to give just about anything to keep from losing another parent.
"Professor I-" Hermione began, but Dumbledore stopped her once again and he himself spoke to her again, his voice stronger, but the weariness still showed through.
"You are to go visit her. She is in a muggle hospital slightly south of where you live. You will leave first thing in the morning - I suggest you go begin packing for a trip of three days or so. That is as long as this school can spare to go without you." Had this been any other time, Hermione would have wondered why the school would need her to be back after very few days, but seeing as she was having a mid-life crisis at the age of fifteen, she didn't care too much at the moment.
For the first time in her life, she was looking at Professor Dumbledore and realizing that he was an old man. She saw the wrinkles that covered his face, the sadness that burrowed into his eyes.
"Thank you, Professor." Hermione said and she turned to walk out. She barely remembered the walk across the office, and she only stopped when she heard his voice when her hand touched the doorknob. She turned to face him again.
"And Miss Granger," he said, a knowing twinkle somewhat back in his eye and it seemed to set Hermione's mind slightly at ease to see Dumbledore returning to his usual self.
"Yes Professor?" she said questioningly, wondering what else he would have to say, and hoping desperately, that it was good news that he was going to speak, or at least something neutral.
"There will always be, at Hogwarts, what your heart seeks most." He said in a very knowing voice, and the words sent a chill down Hermione's spine although there was nothing that her 'heart seeks most' that Hogwarts was capable of giving her.
Not right now.
"Thank you, Professor."
~+~
Hermione had basically run down the halls and she was now by her bed, throwing things into a bag to take with her. She wanted to be ready to leave as soon as she possibly could, she couldn't take any prolonged agony that she wasn't required to take.
She was so concentrated on packing that she didn't notice the movement from her dormitory partners, Draco Malfoy and what's-his-name. Had she noticed, she would have also noticed the murderous looks that Malfoy was giving her. From waking him up or for the curse, she didn't know.
"Disturbing my beauty sleep on purpose, Granger?" Malfoy asked sarcastically and Hermione wanted to sock him in the face, but resisted the urge, however strong it was. She wasn't supposed to hit Malfoy.
"Malfoy, no amount of sleep in the WOULD could make you beautiful." She said and she didn't bother to face him, she just continued packing.
"Mudblood, where are your mudblood parents?" he asked her, and Hermione felt like a volcano before it completely exploded. She could not explode. She would do something irrational again, and she was sure that Dumbledore would not be happy to worm her out of it again.
She had been thinking about that lately. Why hadn't she been expelled, or at least given many, many detentions? It made no sense to her at all, and she hoped that he wouldn't rethink his decision, because she liked it here, not at Azkaban. Most definitely. She would just have to stay rational.
Yet even as she told herself to stay rational, she felt no urge to do anything to him. The anger seemed to have evaporated from inside of her, leaving pain. All she felt was the familiar pulling sensation of her soul being pulled apart from inside of her. He was twisting the knife in the wound, making the pain so much worse that she wished that she would just die.
"Has your mother died yet?" he asked, still pressing the issue, and although Hermione knew that he didn't know what was happening, it still hit her hard when he asked that, with the possibility of her mother actually dying. Why didn't he just shut up already?
Hermione chose to ignore him and continue packing as fast as she possibly could. All she wanted was to get away from Malfoy. Every time she was around him an odd feeling erupted in her stomach and she couldn't place it, nor did she want to.
She was afraid of what she was feeling toward him, she didn't know how to understand it and she was afraid it could lead to more mistakes in her life. Everything that involved men in her life had turned out to be a mistake, and she wasn't going to make any more mistakes no matter what anyone told her.
"Maybe she got hurt in one of those muggle buggies." Malfoy continued, and Hermione felt her blood run cold. How did he know? How in the world did he know what had happened to her mother? Was he guessing? That had to be it, and it would give him so much satisfaction if she showed that that was the truth, she Hermione fought to keep her posture and expression neutral, but her mind was erupting.
How did he know? How did he know?
"And she's in the hopsicle." He continued, and Hermione couldn't suppress the small smile that lingered on her lips and she fought the urge to correct his word. It was a HOSPITAL, not a HOPSICLE.
". . .Dying. . ." Malfoy finished, and although she was refusing to look at him, she could tell, just by his voice, that he was bewildered now.
Good, she thought in a satisfied manner, he was just as confused about this as she was, which meant that neither one of them understood what was happening either.
"Story of my life," Hermione muttered and continued packing her things without pausing.
To her immense surprise, he also stopped talking and stood there, or at least she assumed that he stood there, because she didn't want to look at him no matter what the reason would be. She wanted, more than anything, to close him out of her life, and even though she knew this was impossible, it was something that she could almost look forward to, so she pretended it was true.
Yet, even though she said she wanted to close him out of her life, there was always something that told her not to, something that didn't want to close him away, but she always ignored it and ignored him.
Hermione stuffed the remaining items into her bag and she turned, glared at Malfoy, and then she swept out of the room with grace. She was going to spend three days away from Malfoy, convince her mother to be healed with magic, and restore her life to as close to normal as it was possible.
Smiling slightly as she remembered his poor use of the names of important muggle buildings, Hermione walked down the hall and sat in the entrance hall, right next to the large doors. She would be completely ready to leave on a moment's notice, and she wasn't going to waste any time unless it was necessary. She nodded off next to the doors sometime after midnight.
~+~
Hermione awoke, again, to the rough shaking of another person, she had expected it to be Professor McGonagall again, and when she looked up, she saw one of the last people that she wanted to be woken up by. Professor Snape.
"Granger," he said curtly, and Hermione nodded in response, she didn't feel like talking to him at the moment, and she felt a large surge of hatred toward him. She didn't want to have to share her pain with him, she didn't even want to be in the same ROOM as him, and now she had to travel into London with him.
"Professor," she said in the same curt manner, although with a hint of status, showing that she acknowledged the fact that he was a professor and that she was a student.
"Where exactly am I supposed to be taking you to?" he asked her in a sly whisper as though he didn't want anyone to hear him, and she was taken aback. She had no idea where he was supposed to take her, wasn't that something that he should have already known?
"Um, I think we're supposed to go to the hospital on 13th street near my house," she said, and she proceeded to tell him exactly how to get there, although she was thinking, while she was speaking, that telling Professor Snape how to get to her house may have been a bad decision, but it was too late to change that. They were already on their way.
~+~
Hermione and Professor Snape arrived at the hospital, from which he went into the bathroom, she heard a crack, and she knew that he had Apparated out of the muggle world, and she was left, in the hospital, to figure out what to do next.
It had NOT been a joyful trip. The only time he had talked to her was when he needed directions, and he sneered at her the whole time, as though he didn't want to waste his time on a 'pathetic mudblood'. Hermione found the whole thing childish, but knew better than to say so.
Hermione looked around and realized that she would have been lost if she didn't know her way around. Luckily, she knew what she was doing and where she was going, because she had been in a hospital before.
She walked purposefully up to the front desk and waited for the receptionist to turn her attention to her. She was chatting on the phone with some person named Charlottiea, which Hermione found to be a rather odd name, and was talking about how the man that did her nails the previous afternoon seemed to have been a total moron because yakkity yakkity yak.
Hermione lost her patience and cleared her throat loudly, to which the receptionist answered with a disdainful look before she turned around and continued talking, much to Hermione's annoyance.
She waited until the receptionist wasn't looking, and then she flipped through the book until she found the room that her mother was staying in, and she was relieved to find that she had been moved to a visiting room, which meant that she was no longer in critical condition.
Spirits much lighter, Hermione started making her way to room C 132 to visit her mother, but she stopped inside of the elevator. There was an elevator button for B and an elevator button for D, but there was nothing for C. Hermione thought this was odd, but paid it no attention and pushed the button for B, thinking that she could just walk up to the next level.
It became apparent, though, that there wasn't a single way to get to C floor, which could only mean one of two things. A, it would mean that it was a floor that only the doctors could access, or B, something was desperately wrong at the hospital, and Hermione needed to know which. It could be her fault; something from the magical world could have followed her here.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped out of the elevator (this was the fifth time she had rode it) and glanced around. So far, nothing looked out of place or mysterious, and she didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
She turned four more corners without any problems, but as she rounded the sixth, things started to happen.
She heard footsteps and the hairs on the back of her head stood on end. Something was coming. . . but as she waited in anticipation, it was just a team of nurses taking their break.
She continued walking when she was sure that they had seen nothing suspicious and that they were unharmed. It had taken her a while, though, because it was hard to 'decode their language' which seemed to be quite a few of them mixed into one.
Hermione continued walking, perhaps creeping would be more accurate, and she heard footsteps again, but this time it was different. The footsteps seemed to be dislocated, out of sync with the others.
She froze to listen, this was her first mistake.
Four hooded figures leapt out at her, and her first instinct was that they were dementors, but their hoods and capes were red, and she had no idea what this could mean. She heard the voices of the four figures yelling back and fourth, and she heard the last voice that she wanted to hear. It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"Take the Mudblood, Macnair." He ordered, and Hermione seized her one chance at getting away. Damaging Lucius's pride.
"Aww, is Lucius Malfoy afraid that a muggle born might be better than him, just like she's better than his rat-faced scum of a son?" Hermione asked in a baby voice, and she could almost see the steam emitting from Lucius's ears. She had hit a nerve.
"I wouldn't be afraid of you if you were Albus Dunderhead." He said in a sneering voice, and she could almost see his smirk, identical to Malfoy's, even though she couldn't see any part of his face other than his long nose, which she longed to break with a well-placed kick.
Lucius had drawn his wand and was already pointing it at Hermione, and she tried to play along, and pretend that she couldn't see the wand that was clutched in his hand. Two could play this game.
"That's Albus Dumbledore to you, Malfoy." She spat his name out and then she spat, for real, on his shoes. There was an instant uproar of swear words and insults that were all thrown at Hermione. This was her second mistake.
"Oh," she said in a ditsy voice. "I appear to have," from this point on, her voice became hard and angry. "Tainted the Malfoy pride. Tough. Luck." She said, and she drew her wand, of which, she was proud to say, was with her this time, she had learned her lesson from the ministry officials.
"Ohh, the Mudblood wants to play? We shall soon see who wins." One of the other hooded figures said, and they all pointed their wands at her.
"I can't believe that you needed to bring backup, are you afraid of me?" Hermione asked in a lording voice.
"I wouldn't need backup for a corrupt teenager any time any where. And, since you are about to die, I can tell you, with pleasure, that this is a new branch of spies, from Italy-" Hermione remembered what Draco (no, Malfoy) had said about his mother wanting to join the ranks of the Italian spies. Apparently she had won.
"And we are more powerful than any organization ever before."
"Organization?" Hermione said disbelievingly. "More like DISorganization." She said, heavy emphasis put on the first syllable, and she saw all of their wands jut toward her chest.
Stall, she thought in complete panic.
"You think you're more powerful than Voldemort?" she asked, and she saw a collective shiver run through the four figures.
"You dare say his name?" one of them asked, panic obvious in his voice.
"You dare not say his name?" she asked back, and she saw him shiver again, to which another red figure elbowed him hard. This was her third mistake.
"Goodbye, Mudblood." Lucius said, and Hermione's blood stopped moving.
Lucius began waving his wand in a complex pattern, just like the other Italian spells, and Hermione knew she was doomed. By the length of this spell, it was a deadly curse, it could have been the equal to the killing curse, she did not know for sure.
Hermione closed her eyes, trying to will her brain to think, move, do something, ANYTHING. She couldn't move, she waited for the curses to strike, but nothing happened. She heard no noise, and when she opened her eyes she had expected to have seen them Disapparate or something, but they were all there, unmoving.
At first she thought they were trying to trick her, but she watched as Lucius's hand dripped. And then again. His hand was transparent blue and so were his feet. Drip. She couldn't see his face but assumed that it was too. Drip.
Shit, she thought, he's an ice person.
And indeed it was true. Lucius Malfoy had been transformed into a hunk of ice, just like his other three companions.
Something hit Hermione, and she was gone.
~+~
A/N: What do you think NOW?
Read and Review!
--Saquoia--