SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Twenty Eight: Faith
Author: KissThis
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Rating: PG-13 - maybe later...if I feel like it.
Pairing: He's there for emotional support.
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer: The evil talking cow made me sell it...
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A/N: Yum yum – eat 'em up!
"Harry," Draco murmured, his eyes still on Hermione's face.
"I'm already gone." The receding footprints signified that Harry had indeed gone in search of Professor Snape.
Ginny climbed up onto the bed beside Hermione and with deft fingers pulled the thick brown curls from Hermione's face. Draco's eyes darted up to Ginny frequently, as she moved about checking the pulse in Hermione's wrist and throat.
"I need a sedation potion," she slid Hermione's eyelid open, checking the dilation of her pupils. "I don't want her up and moving while she's asleep, but I don't want to risk putting her in a full body-bind. She could wake up and panic."
Ron cleared his throat. Ginny looked over at him and saw that he had reattached the bedpost to its frame. "I'll go. I was there earlier and I've got a pretty good idea of where to find that potion."
Ginny nodded her head in approval, "Don't get caught. Poppy would have kittens if she found out we were raiding her medicabinets for a patient being kept out of her infirmary.
"I can be in and out of there in under five minutes."
Ginny smiled at her older brother, "Good."
He flashed her a reassuring grin, and disappeared out the portrait door. Draco heard her sigh softly and watched as she sat back on her heels on top of the bed.
"I don't get it..." She murmured suddenly drawing Draco's attention. "She was out too quickly to have fallen asleep, and her pulse is far too fast for her to have slipped into unconsciousness or even into a coma."
"How do you know these things?" Draco asked. He couldn't keep the suspicion from creeping into his voice. Ginny just smiled.
"I have a summer job working as a medinurse." Her lips curved slightly at his surprise, but she said nothing about it. "Here, have a look."
Draco leaned forward as Ginny reached out and gently opened Hermione's eyelids one more. Her haunting amber eyes stared straight ahead. Draco's fingers reflexively clutched tighter around Hermione's hand as the daunting visage filled his mind.
"It's like she's gone into some meditative trance; a good one too..." Catching Draco's sight she snapped her fingers in front of Hermione's eyes. Hermione's resolute gaze never faltered. Lowering Hermione's eyelid, Ginny moved her hands down and clapped them loudly beside her ear. Draco jumped slightly at the suddenness of it, but Hermione made no indication of having heard the sound, nor showed any sign of stirring from her trance.
"Do you think we should take her to Madame Pomfrey?" he asked her.
Ginny sighed. Some of her freckles disappeared as her brow furrowed. "No," she said at length. "I trust in Harry's judgement."
"That makes one of us." Draco muttered
"Harry didn't look at her the way you did," She snapped dropping Hermione's other hand back down upon the bed. "So right now I'm more inclined to go along with what he thinks is best for Hermione."
Draco glared hard at the back of Ginny's head trying to bore a whole straight through it. She turned back around and jumped back at the sudden ferocious look Draco was giving her. "You have no idea what's going on." He hissed.
Ginny looked down at her lap.
"You all talk about Harry like he's some kind of saint – it makes me sick. The only thing he can do is play Quidditch. Nothing you give him credit for is done himself; he has his little gang of groupies for that. So what if his parents are dead! There are worse things than never knowing your parents."
"Draco..." Ginny started quietly. "No one takes what you endured under your father lightly, most of all not Harry—"
Draco shook his head, his sharp features softening slightly. "This isn't some sob story about me and my 'traumatic childhood'. It's not even about Harry, really." He said. "I want you to truthfully tell me you felt no fear when you saw your best friend stick her fist inside a man and completely incinerate him. I want you to tell me you were completely unafraid when she ran to you...covered in blood...and begged you to take her life."
Ginny's breathing was shallow, but she'd managed for once in her life to keep the sorrowful tears from falling. She turned to Draco with red eyes and shook her head. "I felt fear. Nothing in our life is the same anymore and the events that are rapidly taking place terrify to my very core. But some things are stronger than fear."
"Like what?"
"Like faith." Something sparked in Draco's memory.
Her eyes moved to Hermione's face, and he knew. A sad smile tugged at her lips and a gentle hand brushed the damp bangs from Hermione's forehead.
"I love her like I've never loved anybody else in this entire world." Her voice was thick with emotion. "And I promised myself I'd never leave her."
The silence that settled between them went as an unsaid apology; they were both sorry.
Draco frowned, his hawk-like eyes trailing down Hermione's inert form. Her hair was limply fanned out across her pillow and her skin was ashen white. He rubbed her fingers between his hands, hoping to bring some color back into her skin.
"It was raining when you left your room. You don't have an umbrella 'cause you don't have an umbrella."
"Only you won't admit it 'cause you're Miss 'I meant to do that. I'm free and open an unafraid of rain. I'm wet 'cause that's how I meant it to be. I'm the Champion of the world, though my life's falling apart because of it. I slept with one of best friends last night -- but that's how I meant it to be.'"
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I didn't even think of your feelings when I threw them to the ground. Hurt me back – kill me!"
"Damnit! If you cared for me then you'd kill me!"
"I die – Hope dies! Kill her! Set me free!"
Draco closed his eyes. There had been so much blood. And he had been afraid. He opened his eyes and looked down at her as she was now, lying prone beneath the silk sheets of her bed. What was he doing here? What about this girl made him sit by her bedside holding her hand like some sniveling Hufflepuff? He thought back to the way she had been before any of this had ever started.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in!"
He smirked. The bushy-haired spit-fire had irritated him to no end, yet he couldn't make himself hate her. It had been some mysterious force within in her that had kept him from completely hating her. It would be several years before he realized exactly what that force was.
"What do you want, mudblood?"
She slapped him so hard his head rattled.
"What the fuck?!" He stepped back away from her as if she were a demented beast. Bushy tendrils were falling out of her ponytail and her rosy cheeks were shadowed by the torchlight of the darkened hallway. Her chest was heaving as she brought her red palm to it, nursing the stinging skin. He glared at her, rubbing his cheek ruefully trying to dissipate the sharp pain.
"Cut your bloody bull shit, Malfoy." She hissed.
His eyebrows jumped up. It was the first time he'd heard Granger goody-too-shoes curse. He rubbed his jaw and dropped his arms to his sides. "Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, what's your bit, Granger? 'Cuz if you're gonna try and conform me to your piss-ant cause you can save your breath."
"You have a chance to do something good here." She told him with conviction. One arm was wrapped around her waist and her other hand grazed her chin.
He snorted, "In case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly on the side of 'good'."
"What side are you on, Draco?"
He hesitated. She'd never called him by his first name before and it made him pause. She was staring up at him with a blank expression, patiently awaiting his answer. He sneered. "Haven't you heard Potter and the Weasel? I'm one of the 'bad guys'."
"You're not." She replied, immediately after.
"What are you—"
"That's what you don't understand about all this, Draco. There are no sides. It's not about good and evil anymore."
"Enlighten me," He said in contempt.
Her deep amber eyes caught his. "It's about faith, Draco." She whispered.
"I am here because I have faith in my decisions and in my friends. It is my faith that has placed me here today and my faith that will guide me to whatever end I must face."
"I'm not sold," He scowled.
"You've let your faith falter and fall. You need to trust in it once again."
"And betray my father?" He asked. He watched her withdraw within herself, striking a nerve. "I know what you're getting at, Granger. Dumbledore's pet pigeon."
She bristled at the insult, but he was disappointed when she didn't rise to his baiting. She just asked him a simple question:
"Have you put your faith in him?"
"What does it matter? 'Blood is thicker than water' as they say."
"It matters greatly." Her voice was hard and precise; her gaze steely. "Faith can be a very powerful thing."
"You can kill a man with faith?" Draco was less than convinced. He gave her a scornful smirk, stepping up into her personal space.
"Or lack there of," She said blandly. "I know you don't believe what I'm telling you, and I don't blame you--"
"Thanks for that," he muttered.
"However, nothing can stand in the way of your faith." She finished as if he'd never interrupted her.
He smiled slyly, "So are you going to kill me, Granger?"
"No."
He wasn't surprised. She didn't have the killer instinct. "And why not?"
"Because I believe in you."
Ginny had left a while back, most likely to be alone and wait for Ron's return in the prefect's common room, but Draco had barely noticed. He pulled the chair from Hermione's desk up to the bedside and sat down still holding her hand. He felt suddenly silly, clutching onto the hand of some mixed-breed girl, and a Gryffindor no less. But he looked down at her...this girl who's only desire was to give all that she could possibly give, though her body might break and her soul crumble...and he knew.
He knew that he wasn't letting go of her hand.
"You can't hurt me Hope!" Hermione shouted across the field. The daises were screaming out in pain and anguish. Hermione envisioned the nubile goddess ripping herself free from her floral constraints. Trilling laughter whipped through the air around her.
"This is my dream – I can control it!"
"Believe what you will, dear heart, but this is no dream."
Hermione felt her behind her even as she whirled around. Hope stood a few feet away, her stance defiant, shredded rings of daisies still hanging 'round her ankles. She wore a feral grin, reveling in her animalistic and sensual nature. Hermione couldn't understand what was going on – Hope's behavior had become a constantly changing surprise; this voluptuous personality the most surprising one yet. One that was equally terrifying.
Hermione's body quaked with fear and her eyes went wide with alarm. The screams died out; the crimson splattered daises being crushed within Hope's deadly grasp. The blood splattered across her ivory skin disappeared. She dropped the broken flowers to the ground and ran glistening hands down her chest and stomach. Leftover petals caught between her fingers fluttered down and slid off her sweat-slicked body.
Hermione couldn't help but watch with a growing bizarre and horrified fascination as Hope's lips curled back, baring her teeth in a ferociously lecherous and predatory manner. Hermione blinked her eyes – blocking out Hope's image for a mere fraction of a second.
It was enough.
"What are you doing, Hope!?" She shouted angrily. Whatever was going through Hope's twisted mind, promised not to bode well for Hermione. Tired of the guessing games, the psychotic episodes, and the deceitful invasions she did nothing to stop the spread of boiling fury through her veins. Hope's carnal grin dropped.
"You're resolve is crumbling, your will dying, and your faith failing." Hope told her coldly. Her grin rose again, "Your body is as good as mine."
"NO!" Hermione's negating shriek rose into something primitive and inhuman. Hope reached out a hand and Hermione panicked. Her only thought was that Hope was trying to take her again. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she ran from her.
She felt the disease Voldemort had placed inside her constrict around her heart. Agony made her cry out and she clutched at her chest as she fell.
"GINNY!"
The shouted cry silenced all conversation within the common room. Fearing what she would find, Ginny was taking the stairs two or three at a time without slowing her pace. Ron was hot on her heels. As the pair stumbled through the open doorway they were unprepared for the sight before them.
Draco was literally on the bed. As he heard them enter he was struggling to pin Hermione's flailing arms to the bed. Her wide eyes were unblinking as they darted wildly all over the room; brilliant ocher light illuminated the room. Her violent thrashing against the bed was that of a desperate animal nearing its own death. Draco was doing his best to restrain her, but all Hermione's recent training was clearly visible as Draco fought a losing battle.
"A little help here!" He ground out; his teeth were clenched in concentration. Blood beaded along three parallel cuts going across his right cheek, and Ginny stared at the fresh wound with confused surprise.
Though he was kneeling on her legs, her struggling was less than hindered and Draco's brow was furrowed as he tried to keep her lower half pinned. Her legs scissor kicked beneath him and he was thrown off balance. He threw an arm back reflexively to steady himself and Hermione's free hand snaked out, catching him around the throat.
Ginny wondered if that was how he'd acquired those cuts; those claw marks...she didn't have time to think of that though.
"Ginny!" He wheezed.
"I'm hurrying!" She shouted back – a tinge of hysteria in her voice. The potion bottle shook in her trembling hands and she fought to steady it. The lip rattled sharply against the glass.
"Ron – we need Harry now! Go –" She glanced over her shoulder, but Ron was already gone.
Draco cursed. "Bloody hell!"
Hermione's arms flew up to protect her face as she fell. Her knees connected with the grass and a deep, incessant touch pulled her legs beneath the surface. The lush field melted beneath her and her back arched downwards as she strained to keep her head above the liquefied grass. Hope's amused laughter was cut off as Hermione was completely pulled beneath the surface.
Blinding white light assailed Hermione's eyes and she blinked rapidly as spots appeared in her vision. She'd never thought much about death or the afterlife, but she wondered now if that light at the end of the tunnel was more than myth.
Was she really dead?
When you died in your dreams that meant you'd died in your sleep -- she'd always woken up before that final blow, that final breath...This couldn't be real.
Unless Hope was right; unless she wasn't dreaming.
Green tinged her vision. She strained her eyes to look above; ignoring the throbbing pain the action caused her. Blades of grass caressed her forehead.
She wasn't dead!
The thick band around her neck loosened as the quicksand began to dissipate. Air rushed into her lungs as she began to fall again. Her body swung forward, tearing through the melted earth. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut awaiting the coming fall. But it never came.
She willed her eyes open. A white expanse of nothingness spanned out around her, disappearing into the rolling green hillsides above her. She hung suspended from the grassy ceiling by sinewy liquid earth that anchored her feet to the upside-down world – as if she'd fallen straight through the Earth and come out the other side. Her hair floated around her face, interjecting chocolate streaks throughout the endless ivory. She reached up a hand to brush it away. Green liquid trailed down her arm. Sepia locks drifted across her vision again, and she gave up fighting the gravitation-less atmosphere.
"Can't stand on your own two feet?"
Laughter.
Hermione's breath caught, "Where are you, Hope? Show yourself!"
The grass before her rippled slowly, the rings of disturbed grass moving gradually outwards. The motion began again. A golden blonde head surfaced from within the green sea; the ripples quickened. At an agonizingly slow pace, Hope emerged – stripped and utterly calm as she was lowered into Hermione's sight. With every hair in place and with every appearance of standing right side up in the field of daises, the disturbed grass around her planted feet returned to normal.
"Stop this!" Hermione insisted. The faces of her friends appeared in her mind. She brushed her hair aside again, wondering what spell kept Hope's in place while the rest of the world was turned upside down.
Hope lifted a pale hand to her face and brushed her platinum hair over her shoulder. The waist length strands clung to her bare back. "Come now, Hermione. It would take more than a few parlor tricks to kill you here."
She lifted a hand and Hermione cried out in surprise. The sinew around her ankles hardened, turning to thick vines. The seemingly lifeless flora snaked up her bare legs twisting around her waist and torso to bind her tightly. She screamed as she felt the vines pass straight through her body. With her pain mounting, she tried to fight off the advancing plant life, but her flailing arms too were frozen mid-battle, wrapped in emerald vines. The thinning wisps of creeper inched up her neck fanning across one side of her face.
"Why are you doing this?" A whimper of pain.
"We're going to play a little game," was Hope's coy reply.
Completely unable to move, Hermione stared wide-eyed at Hope. A deer caught in the headlights. "Please..."
Hope smirked. "Have a little faith, Hermione..."
A little short, but it seemed like as good a stopping place as any. PLEASE review! The more I get, the more I'm encouraged to get cracking on the next chapter.
Kisses to you all,
KissThis