SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Twenty Seven: Just Take My Hand
Author: KissThis
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Rating: PG-13 - maybe later...if I feel like it.
Pairing: Working on it…
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer: I sold Harry Potter for my spring break trip to Italy – whoops! Mah bad.
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A/N: Wow, sorry about how long it's been. I had a challenge that I characteristically left til the last minute and I was rushing to finish it, while at the same time cramming for the oodles of exams being heaped on me. I wonder if I still have fans out there...
The common room erupted as Ginny fumbled to open the portrait door with Harry striding in behind her with a bloody Hermione in his arms. Ron was only steps behind him.
"Seamus!" Harry shouted, catching sight of the Irish boy. "Get these kids back into their dorms! Ron! Get to the Hospital Wing – Pepper-Ups and Sleeping Draughts. Hurry!" He shifted the girl in his arms; the blood making her slippery. "Ginny! Bathroom – Now!"
Ginny rushed on ahead of him, flinging open the door and heading instinctively towards the bath. She tried frantically to push back the bulky shower curtain before ripping it completely off the rod in teary frustration. Harry was already kneeling on the tiled floor, gently lowering Hermione's unconscious body into the spacious tub.
Ginny swiped the back of her hand across her tear stained cheeks leaving a smear of blood across the bridge of her nose; though, it was nothing compared to Harry. Ginny glanced over at him. The sticky liquid was splattered across one side of his face, dripping down his neck and staining the white collar of his shirt ruby-pink. His entire front was stained crimson and his arms were completely coated in blood – both from carrying Hermione. Every so often a bead of liquid would form at his elbow and drip onto the floor.
His palm moved to touch Hermione's forehead, brushing back her clumped bangs in the process. "We've got to bring her temperature down." He murmured. Ginny immediately jumped for the tap.
"Make it warm." He told her, quickly. "With all this heat covering her body a drastic change in temperature could send her into shock."
Ginny nodded dumbly and did as she was told. The pipes roared to life and lukewarm water sprayed out of the faucet. As the first droplets splattered against her bare feet Hermione twitched and slid further down in the bath making a bloody trail against the back of the porcelain. Harry pulled her back up and his eyes darted up and down her body. His mind was racing.
"We have to get her out of these clothes," He said calmly. "Gradually make the water colder." He added to Ginny and pulled out his wand.
"Do you think we should have gone to Madame Pomfrey?" Ginny's quiet voice was barely heard through the roar of the bathtub. She turned to watch the knob as she twisted it slightly to the left.
"No." He told her firmly.
"Diffendio" The spell sliced through Hermione's satin top and jeans, cutting the materials into even strips that fell away from her body. Harry dropped his wand to the tiles and began pulling off the shredded clothing and throwing it haphazardly behind him.
"She'd have been holed up in there for weeks while the Order ran tests and psychological scans." He sighed, "Hermione wouldn't have wanted that."
Ginny nudged the knob again. "They wouldn't have kept her against her will, would they?"
Harry shifted Hermione's body to grab the last scraps of cloth floating in the inch deep water. Left only in her undergarments, Hermione's body shuddered in the gradually cooling bathwater. "I don't know, Ginny...Hogwarts is different now."
"What do you mean?" She pressed. The icy water had reached Hermione's waist and she turned off the faucet. She swiveled at the waist and reached behind to the cupboards beneath the sink. She glanced up at Harry as he tried to voice an answer and turned back to the tub with two soft, sea sponges in her hand.
Finally he shrugged, "It's just a feeling."
Ginny handed him a sponge and turned her attention to Hermione. He dipped the porous material beneath the water feeling it soften in his hand. Leaning over the edge of the tub he squeezed water out over Hermione's collar making pink rivulets run down her chest and arms. He pressed the sponge to the base of her neck and with great care began dabbing away at the blood crusted upon her ivory skin. Hermione slid downwards in the water.
"Hold her up a second." Harry instructed, shuffling around on his knees to the back-end of the tub. As Ginny gently pushed Hermione back up into a sitting position, Harry slid his arm around the front of her shoulders, keeping her back pressed against the bath.
The pair worked diligently in silence; Ginny washing her stomach, arms, and any part on her legs the water had yet to wear away, and Harry washing her face, neck, and back. Harry slid her forward slightly and angled her pliable body so that she was leaning against his arm.
"Tip her head back." Ginny pointed Hermione's chin upwards and shielded her closed eyes as Harry brought up sponge-fulls of water, drenching Hermione's tangled curls. Several more minutes passed with Harry saturating Hermione's hair, occasionally rubbing at her scalp with the sponge itself, and Ginny watching Hermione's face, praying for her to wake up. When Harry was finally satisfied with his task, he slowly moved Hermione back into a sitting position and glanced down.
The water was stained with blood.
He felt her shoulders tremble beneath his hands and moved to feel her forehead. Her temperature had stabilized. "Let this water out and pour her some warmer water."
Ginny nodded and reached past Hermione's feet to release the drain latch. A lurching sound followed and the dirty water spiraled down the unstoppered drain. There was a tentative knocking at the bathroom door, and Harry's head shot up with a bewildered look, losing his thoughts for a moment.
"It's Ron," Ginny reminded him. "You should go check on the stuff he brought. I'll finish cleaning her up." She gave a pointed look towards Hermione's bloody negligee, and Harry nodded his agreement.
"Of course. I'll make sure things are ready." He told her before slipping quickly out the door, shutting behind him.
Hermione moaned softly and rolled onto her side. Something was tickling her face. She scrunched up her nose, fighting back a sneeze, and opened her eyes. Daises hung over her head and emerald blades of grass caressed her cheeks. She blinked sleep away and inhaled deeply the fresh floral scents.
A blood curdling scream filled the air.
Hermione shot up, white petals falling down around her. The screaming ceased.
"What's the matter, Hermione?" The voice echoed all around her, and Hermione spun around. Kylee Rookwood smiled down at her.
She wore a white, toga-like dress, bound loosely at her waist with a golden rope. Her feet were bare, half-hidden beneath the lush grass. Hermione could smell her distinct scent of peppermints from where she sat, and her eyes began to water.
"Kylee...I'm so sorry!" She cried, wiping the tears from her face.
"Hush, little Hermione." Kylee whispered. She smiled, her sharp green eyes softening. Dark chocolate hair spilled over her shoulders as she reached out to her. "Just take my hand."
Hermione felt herself engulfed in ice. A frozen band had formed around her torso, locking her arms at her sides. She struggled against her bonds, struggled to reach out, but she wasn't strong enough.
Kylee's eyes clouded with confusion, "Hermione?" The skin around her wrists was turning blue.
Hermione stared in pain as Kylee's outstretched hand became discolored. Her hands, the only part of her arms that were free, strained against the ice. They twisted at odd angles trying to break free.
"I can't reach you!" She shouted, but it only came out as a breath of air.
"Hermione?" Kylee's voice was frightened now.
Hermione's slender fingers stretched outwards groping for her hand. Her amber eyes exploded with light as Kylee disappeared – her entire body dissolving into a shower of light. Hermione shrieked as a flock of doves replaced the women's body and flew over her head in a flurry of ivory wings. Tears poured down her face as she fell to her knees, fists pounding into the ground; her arms no longer held in ice.
Another scream cut through her anguished tears.
She struggled to her feet and stumbled through the fields of flowers. She'd barely gone anywhere when the cry died out again.
"What are you doing, Hermione?" The rich, Irish-accented voice was curious. Jina McConnelly appeared beside her, an unnatural wind toying with her thick, red curls. Her freckled cheeks were rosy and when she smiled her tiny nose wrinkled. Hermione suddenly saw Ginny standing there beside her; older, more mature, but still the same. She stumbled back, blinking, in surprise, and Jina's face was looking down at her once more.
She felt weak – letting the tears fall – but she couldn't hold back the flood of pain that had formed inside her. Jina toyed with her golden belt – she wore the same outfit as Kylee – and turned to Hermione. "Just smile."
Hermione's fingers pushed mercilessly against her eyelids trying to stave the rivers of tears. She scrubbed at her red cheeks. Jina waited patiently for her to compose herself, warm sunlight streaming through her hair. Though tears were beginning to leak once more from the corners of her eyes, Hermione pulled herself together and smiled up at her. Jina's patient expression didn't change. Hermione's smile faltered slightly and she took a step forward.
"Hermione?" Her face flickered to Ginny's and back. She was confused.
"I'm smiling, Jina. I'm smiling!" Hermione insisted. No sound came out. Her eyes widened even as Jina's brow furrowed. Her hands flew to her face. They trailed down her eyes, her nose, and her roughly rubbed cheeks meeting nothing but smooth skin down to her chin. Fear and hysteria welled up inside her. Her mouth was gone! She couldn't breathe. She began to hyperventilate, her eyes fluctuating wildly as panic set in.
"Hermione?!" Her child-like voice of fright echoed that of Kylee's. Hermione's pupils were dilated and she fell to the ground, writhing in the grass as she fought to control the anxiety that was blocking the air from her lungs.
An invisible force whipped trough the air above Hermione and cut straight through Jina. As the two halves separated, Hermione saw not the blood and bones she'd anticipated, but rather a blinding white light emanating from inside Jina's body. The tears that had resurfaced threatened to block her vision, but Hermione blinked them away. As the two pieces hit the ground they exploded into a shower of white petals.
Hermione could now breathe again and she sucked in greedy gulps of air, as she lay panting on her back watching the soft petals rain down on her. She wanted to close her eyes against the pain, but she couldn't…couldn't will them shut.
The screaming began again.
Unable to stand she began to crawl across the ground, dragging herself through a multitude of daisies. Petals caught in her hair and the dirt scraped against her forearms. She didn't see the edge until she'd crawled straight through the curtain of grass and flowers blocking it from view. A shriek of surprise and fright and she went tumbling down over the edge.
She hit the slope below hard, the continuing field doing little to soften her fall. As the steep incline gradually evened out, her chaotic tumbling finally came to a halt near the base of the green valley. The screaming was so close now it thundered in her ears and pounded against her skull. She wanted to cry out, but clamped her teeth down together to fight against the pain. With a determined look, she pressed her palms over her ears and got to her feet.
Laying spread-eagled within the daisies was a young woman. Her bare body glistened with sweat in the warm sunlight; skin the color of ivory. Long, blonde hair framed her face, disappearing into the grass. Her back was arched, her head thrown back, and her mouth wide open as she screamed. Twisted daises kept her limbs pinned to the ground, even though she fought with wild strength. Crimson blood was splattered across her body.
The screams stopped.
"Hello, Hermione." Two voices echoed. Two men stood side by side; one with salt-and-pepper hair, the other with black, both with brown eyes. David Burke. Paul Montrel. They smiled at her and she wanted to scream.
"Just walk with us."
As she knew it would be, no matter how much she willed her legs to move they were like lead. Unable to give her hand, unable to smile, and now unable to walk toward forgiveness with those she had killed. Mercilessly and unforgiving they smiled down at her expectantly – oblivious to the torturing of her soul.
"Hermione?" Their bewildered voices just like those before them.
She fought once more to walk, to move, to run. But her legs had turned to stone; hard, immobile. She screamed as her legs cracked from her struggles. They shattered and she fell face first to the ground.
"Hermione?!"
The terror in their voices brought the tears again, and she blocked back the pain to raise herself up on her forearms. Their skin turned ashen and their bodies became still. The looks of fright were frozen upon their stone faces. Her eyes would not close. Their bodies crumbled. From their remains flew a dozen butterflies that disappeared into the sky.
Her legs returned, and she got to her feet. With wobbly knees it was hard to stand, but she did and she turned to face the captive woman. As she watched, blood from no visible source appeared and smeared itself across the woman's abdomen. The desperate screams began again.
Hermione stumbled forward the few feet it took to reach the woman and fell to her knees beside her. "I'm here to help you!" She yelled over the screams – her voice working for once. But as she freed the woman's hand from the daises' grip she froze. The screams were not coming from her...they were coming from the flowers. They screamed as the blood dripped down upon their pristine petals as they fought against their own terror and disgust to hold the woman down.
Hermione fell back, dropping a handful of screeching flowers. Her eyes were wide and dilated as they darted over the scene before her. She saw it now...what she had missed before; the body she had thought was struggling to break free was writhing in ecstasy, the sweat not from the sun but the woman's orgasmic pleasure. And she was laughing.
She knew that laugh. It haunted her every step, every breath, every thought. It was the salt on her wounds. It made her stomach twist and writhe. The woman turned her face towards her, eyes completely gold pulsating with light. Her lips curled back and she laughed into Hermione's face.
"Come to save me, have you?"
Hermione's stomach leapt into her throat. The rising bile made her gag. "Hope."
"Don't sound so disgusted, dear Hermione. I'm only what I was made to be."
"You're wrong." Hermione whispered.
The hand that she'd freed snaked up to grab her arm, keeping her close. "I'm not. I was not born of this world – I was made by the gods." Hope reminded her.
"You were made to be impartial; a judge to even the scales."
Hope smiled at her naïveté, "I was made to adapt."
"Not like this," Hermione whispered. "You've become a monster."
"I told you it's the way they made me." Hope laughed. "I've done what I must in order to survive. There is no other way."
At that moment, Hermione looked into Hope's soulless eyes and felt a deep, resounding pity for the creature. All She'd ever known was how to keep Herself alive one more day so that She could carry out the responsibilities bestowed upon Her by the gods so many centuries ago. As far as Hope knew that was her only role in life. And she would continue to do so unto the ending of the World.
Hermione wondered how many times Her host had died while She was still inside. She wondered if She'd ever felt pain, sorrow, loss...or love. She wondered what She had gone through to make Her turn out the way She had.
"There's always another way." Hermione insisted. "You could let people help you."
A dark smirk spread across Her face, "You are going help me, Hermione. You're going to set me free."
She had worked Her other hand free and had grabbed Hermione's shoulders. She pulled the struggling Hermione closer to Her, Her hands sliding up behind Hermione's neck. Hope's body twisted at an impossible angle, her ankles still bound. Her pull was incessant.
"Please, no." Hermione pleaded.
Hope pulled Hermione's face to hers, auburn curls twisted around her cool, pale fingers. Her mouth was parted, as if trying to suck Hermione inside of her. Hermione tried to wrench herself away but Hope's grip was too strong. She could feel her icy breath against her face.
"Just set me free." Hope whispered. She pulled Hermione closer and tipped her face upwards. Hermione's eyes went wide as Hope's lips pressed against hers.
The light of Hope's eyes was so bright. She felt the life being sucked out of her; Hope was draining all the energy from her – a literal "kiss of death".
She closed her eyes.
The daisies screamed out.
"Hermione?"
Hermione's eyes snapped open and she stumbled as the world reeled around her.
"Hermione?!" That was Ginny's voice. Her grip tightened on the heavy object she held in her hand.
"G-Ginny?" She mumbled. Her jumbled vision righted itself and her glassy eyes focused on the frightened Ginny trembling beneath her. Why was she so small? Hermione couldn't focus. Her lips burned.
The door banged open. She saw Harry, Ron, and Draco come running into the room but come quickly to a stop behind Ginny. She could feel the polished wood beneath her bare feet. She was standing on her desk. Why? Her head hurt and she felt dizzy.
Her arm was so heavy. She looked over at what she held in her hand and her eyes flickered in confusion. She looked over her shoulder at her bed, the sheets in disarray, and then back. The splintered wooden post of her bed frame was clutched in her clenched fingers. Suddenly feeling all the weight of the heavy oak her muscles screamed in protest and the post clattered to the floor. Ginny jumped back from the collision, colliding with her brother.
"Hermione…come down from there, please." Ginny begged. "Let's get you back to bed."
"G-Ginny," She said again. She seemed to shrink in on herself, turning into a small child; frightened and alone. "Ginny, I hurt." She whispered. "All over."
She looked down with curious detachment at the white nightgown she'd been dressed in and picked at the silky material. She lifted a hand to her mouth feeling as if she were about to be sick. Her lips were swollen and burning, but it had only been a dream. Hadn't it? Her stomach lurched, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she lost all strength she'd had. Her knees buckled and she pitched forward into Ginny's arms.
The younger girl staggered back underneath the sudden weight, but it was quickly relieved from her as the boys rushed to her aid. Together they carried her over to the bed and covered her with blankets. Hermione's eyelids were heavy and she could feel Hope reaching out for her again as soon as sleep claimed her once more. She flung out her hands, one getting tangled in the golden chain around her neck, the other finding an arm to grab hold of. She tugged the owner of the arm towards her and Draco's face filled her vision.
"She's coming at me through my dreams," she whispered – fighting to stay awake. "She's trying to use my guilt to weaken me."
"It's alright, Hermione." He brushed the bangs from her forehead. "You're friends are watching over you."
"Find Severus," She mumbled, her words barely coherent. "Page…page 62..."
"Welcome back, Hermione."
Yeah I know, long time to wait – short chapter. I'm REALLY sorry. I've just been swamped with a lot of stuff, and now that soccer has started up again it looks like it'll be tough to get things going. I shall do my best.