SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Thirty: Screaming
Author: KissThis
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Rating: Not much in this chappy.
Pairing: No one seems to be getting some!
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer: I own everything...I am God. Lol.
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A/N: I've got me some bronchitis...yummaliscious. I have two big projects to finish this weekend, but since I'm not going anywhere with my plague-like disease I should finish 'em rather quickly. Leaving me time for THIS! YAY! For Kami's sake! I'm on my thirtieth chapter and they've only gone through ONE month of school...rather slow pace, eh?
"Ginny!" Draco wheezed. Hermione's hand still clutched resolutely to his throat.
"Open her mouth," Ginny instructed, running up to the struggling blonde. She held the beaker aloft as if it were a precious jewel – one that a single breath could shatter. She made it to the bedside without spilling a drop.
"I'm a little preoccupied on keeping my own open at the moment." Was his retort. Ginny frowned slightly. "Maybe you could lend a hand? You know...if it's not too much trouble." He suggested dryly.
Hermione's face was contorted in a silent scream and the muscles in her arm flexed sporadically cutting Draco's breaths short.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, still struggling to keep Hermione pinned and extricate himself from her grip at the same time.
Glad that her job was far simpler than Draco's "guard-duty" was turning out to be, Ginny leaned over the side of the bed and placed a hand on Hermione's forehead. With the filled beaker in one hand she pressed Hermione's head back gently, tipping her chin so that the passage to her stomach was as direct as she could make it. Hermione's wide eyes flickered slightly as if her mind was unconsciously realizing that something was taking place outside her induced trance. Before the poor brunette could formulate a counter-attack, Ginny poured the frothing pink liquid into Hermione's open mouth.
Hermione shrieked in agony as Hope's fingers dragged mercilessly across the vines embedded in her torso. Tears burned the corners of her amber eyes, but the pain was too much for even tears to fall. Hope was nearly purring with satisfaction. Her lips turned up in a wicked smile.
"My lovely, dear Hermione." Her tongue clicked against her teeth. She glided around the immobile teenager shaking her head in apparent disappointment. A pale ivory hand caressed the smooth lines of Hermione's tanner skin – the varying skin tones creating a sharp contrast. Hermione shivered as the hand reached her shoulder, tracing a steady line across skin and vine alike until it reached her neck.
Hermione swallowed slowly. She tried to turn her eyes to see what was happening, but the effort was painful and ultimately futile. Long, hard nails scraped idly across the surface of her throat and her heart immediately began to race.
Hope smelled fear.
"You're a frightened little rabbit, aren't you?" Hope cooed. A finger trailed its way down Hermione's cheek as she walked back around. "I've caught your scent..."
Hermione bristled at Hope's deduction and she strained at her bonds, fingers itching to grab a hold of her captor. Hope's laughter was far from sane, "Ah ah ahhh!" She waggled a finger in front of Hermione's face. "No need to get anxious -- we'll begin the game soon enough, little rabbit..."
"Why you BI—!"
"Really, Hermione! You know you're to blame for your current predicament," Hope said lightly – her voice rising to drown out Hermione's long string of curses. "All my past hosts gave their bodies to me willingly, giving themselves up to my god-like powers."
Hermione glared back in defiance. "I believe that a greater good will come from our separation, rather than from the use of my body as a mere shell."
Hope smirked, "What good are you without me? Your magic is but parlor tricks without my energy fueling them, and your strength is that of a child. You're of absolutely no use to me as an ally. All that interests me is the pure heart that allows me to live inside your body."
A pale finger traced the sloped curves of Hermione's lips. "Of course, I've yet to reach my full power..." She smirked. "But your life energy is invigorating – it will give me the strength I need to completely possess your body once and for all."
The instant their lips met, a burning sensation spread through Hermione's body. She could feel the energy that sustained her life force being pulled from her body. Left without power, her body was becoming weaker and weaker. Her body sagged down upon the vines that impaled her in fatigue, and a sharp pain lanced through her. Her mind was jolted into wakefulness and she snapped her jaws shut.
Hope shrieked in surprise and stumbled back. Her large amber eyes were narrowed in anger and blood dribbled off her lips where Hermione's teeth had broken the skin. Hermione struggled against the vines as her energy replenished itself, lending her strength.
A wave of Hope's hand and the cuts disappeared, turning her porcelain face unblemished once more. "Why are you making things so difficult?" She hissed, striding back towards her.
Hermione had managed to free one hand and she slashed the air in front of her immobile body trying to keep Hope from getting any closer. Hope's own hand snaked forward and grabbed Hermione's by the wrist. The more Hermione struggled to wrench her hand free, the tighter Hope's fingers wrapped around her wrist until she cried aloud in pain. Fingernails digging into Hermione's skin, Hope stepped closer, pressing her naked body against the vines and silk gown that housed Hermione's.
She grabbed Hermione roughly by the hair and yanked her head back. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as Hope's warm tongue was dragged across her exposed neck.
"Just one more taste..." Hope whispered, and Hermione was once again locked in a life-sucking kiss of death.
She could barely feel Hope's lips covering hers. There was no longer the pain in her wrist or head, and the thick vines no longer seemed to bind her. She didn't realize Hope had broken off the kiss until she heard her shriek of frustration.
"WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
Hermione opened her eyes and was surprised to see her own arm melting out of Hope's grasp. The blonde goddess tried to wrap her arms about her, but they passed straight through her body. She glared accusingly at Hermione, anger filling her face.
It was odd, but Hermione couldn't help but smile as Hope's created dimension faded away. "It seems that my friends have decided to put me to sleep..."
Draco greedily gulped in large amounts of air as Hermione's limp hand fell from his throat. He slid off of her sleeping body and dropped to the floor, rubbing at his neck. "About time," he muttered.
Ginny glared at him. "Stop your complaining and let me have a look at you." Draco was surprised when her cool fingers gently touched his cheek.
"I'm fine." He scowled and swatted her hand away.
"That's a nasty gash you've got there. Looks like Hermione got herself a piece of you..."
Draco snorted, "Wouldn't be the first time." He said, reflecting on the time in the Library. He watched her dig through the leather satchel Ron had brought in earlier from the Infirmary and withdraw a clean, white cloth and a small glass bottle. She uncorked it and pressed the cloth to the rim before tipping it.
"Press this to your cut," She instructed before handing him the potion-saturated cloth. He hissed slightly as the healing salve burned his skin, and scowled at Ginny's turned back.
"Do you know what's wrong with her?" he asked after a moment.
Ginny sighed as she pulled the covers up over Hermione's chest. She turned around to face Draco and brushed the stray hairs from her eyes. "I can't be certain. We'll just have to wait for Harry to come back with Professor Snape."
Draco sat down on the edge of the bed, "Any idea what she wanted from him? Seemed like a pretty odd request."
Ginny looked apologetic, "No, I'm sorry, I don't. But your right, I can't imagine why she'd want Snape of all people."
"Yeah, I'd figure the Headmaster or Lupin would rank higher on her list."
"You'd think..." She sighed again. "But I really don't know what to believe anymore." She dropped down on the bed beside him, "Things are just so crazy, ya know?"
Draco lowered his hand and looked down at the pink-tinged cloth. "Yeah..." He rubbed ruefully at his cheek. The raised lines across his cheek were already beginning to fade.
"Keep that on your cut."
Draco glanced over. Ginny was looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. She waited until he complied with her request before looking away again. Draco shifted slightly so that he was leaning back against the bedpost, facing her.
""So why are you still here?"
The question surprised her so much that Ginny whirled around to face him – bewilderment in her eyes, "What?"
Draco shook his head slightly and repeated himself. "If things are so crazy, then why are you still here?"
Ginny let the question sink in and a smile began to blossom on her face. "I never really thought much about it before," she said quietly. "I guess I took it as a given that it's what I'm supposed to do -- stay here, I mean."
Draco's brow furrowed, trying to comprehend. "But now?"
"I'm here because she needs me," She said, as if it were the simplest thing to understand. She shrugged. "Maybe she can't tell me that, or show me, but I know she needs me. No matter what happens, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Whatever she goes through, whatever she becomes...she'll still be my best friend."
Draco stared at her in disbelief, "I don't believe you lot!" He exclaimed leaping to his feet. Ginny jumped in surprise; auburn hair flying across her face as her head whipped around to face him.
"Draco?!"
"Have you completely forgotten what she's done? All those people she killed?!" Draco shouted. "All of you act like she's the bloody Jesus Christ, but she's not!"
"This is Hermione we're talking about!" Ginny shouted back, leaning protectively over her sleeping body on instinct.
"Her body has been possessed by a higher power and now her innocence is covered with those people's blood! But you all follow her like nothing's changed, but you're all so blind. Everything's different." He pointed a finger at the girl lying innocently beneath golden sheets, "That thing is not Hermione." He yelled.
"Draco! Wait!" Ginny shouted after him, but he was already whirling out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him with such force that it bounced back inward; rattling on its hinges.
She looked anxiously down at Hermione, fearing that the commotion had awoken her, but the potion was doing its job. She lay blissfully unaware of the goings on – held in sleep for the next eight hours.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione." She whispered, brushing the chocolate bangs from her sleeping friend's forehead. "He's just confused..."
"He's having a hard time of it, Hermione. You know he has a hard time trusting things he doesn't know – he's not able to see you the way I do...he doesn't understand yet."
She bent down to pick up the rag Draco had dropped during his exit and refolded the pinkened cloth neatly in her hands. Anything to keep her hands busy. "But he cares for you." She gave a tight smile. "He'll figure things out."
"Ginny?"
"Ron." She glanced back over her shoulder at the doorway as her brother walked quickly into the room.
"Who were you talking to?" He asked. She watched him walk around to her side and drop a bagful of potions beside the first.
She smiled softly, "Just Hermione. She's sleeping now."
Ron moved to stand beside her and looked down at Hermione. She watched her brother keep his emotions hidden because of her presence. But she knew anyway.; how he felt about Hermione.
Maybe that was her special power; seeing...knowing. He broke off from his reverie and turned to her with a crooked smile.
"You alright, Gin?"
She nodded, "I will be."
Consciousness crept back into her mind as sleep left her, and Hermione was suddenly aware of her environment; the weight of her bedsheets across her body, the cool touch of wind that blew from an open window, the bright sunlight filtering beneath her eyelids, and her bedroom's distinctive scent of cinnamon filling her nose.
She stirred slightly. The covers rustled. She didn't want to get up.
"Hermione?"
She stretched her arms languidly over her head with a small mew of contentment and sat up.
"Mmm, what are you doing here, Harry?" She inquired half-way through a yawn. Memories came as her mind fully awoke and her eyes snapped open as she fell back against the pillows, clutching her head.
"Harry!" She cried out, pain contorting her face. "They're screaming...screaming in my head!"
Harry's hands touched her shaking shoulders and she clutched to him like a lifeline, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He whispered soothing words as he took her in his arms and rocked her, but she could not hear them.
"It can't be real. It can't be real..." She sobbed into his robes.
"Hush, little Hermione. Just take my hand."
Hermione choked on her wracking sobs, "I'm not a warrior! I'm not a KILLER!" She screamed.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he felt warm tears welling up and crushed Hermione's body against his – desperately trying to draw her pain and anguish inside himself. "You're not, Hermione. You're not." He lifted a hand to her head and began to rock again, fighting the tears that were spilling down his face. "You're my best friend, Hermione."
"I don't want to do this anymore," She yelled. She pulled her head back and Harry opened his eyes in surprise. Her face was damp and shining with a multitude of tears and her lips quivered uncontrollably as she spoke. "Can't we just go back to where we started?"
Harry slowly closed his eyes as her pleas washed over him.
"Please, Harry...I just want to go back. Please..."
He held for a moment longer, letting her cry out her pain and guilt. But his silence confirmed the haunting reality that they could never go back to way things were – they would be here 'til the end. When her echoing sobs finally receded and her body stopped quaking against his own, he gently drew back.
"'Mione, luv." He whispered, brushing an auburn curl from her forehead. "Professor Snape; he's coming. He'll be here soon."
Hermione sniffed loudly, her eyes looking down at the bedsheets in contemplation as she wiped fruitlessly at her cheeks. Remembrance appeared in her amber orbs and she looked up at Harry, but commented nothing on the motive of her earlier request. She nodded, a bit distractedly, and pulled away from Harry, sliding her legs over the side of the bed and dropping to the carpeted floor.
Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath she let it out and nodded again, "I'll, umm, get dressed then." She murmured and disappeared into her large closet.
Harry stared at the open doorway before the door was oddly closed.
Hermione breathed raggedly resting her forehead against the cool oak of the door. Waiting in the dark, for her pain to subside.
She'd murdered dozens of people without shame or guilt. She'd squashed them with her power as if they were bugs beneath her shoes, feeling no remorse or pain at their passing.
She felt sick.
The voices in her head wouldn't stop -- Each victim's voice clamoring to be heard over all the others. They cried out in pain and anger. They screamed for vengeance.
And she deserved it.
No matter how good the reason or conviction, her transgressions were unforgivable. Not even for the sake of the world was murder justified. And she'd already sinned more than once. Though Hope possessed her she was guilty for every action committed through her body, and now she was paying the price.
She turned around and leaned back against the door. Soon it would be over – she'd be back to the beginning. She smiled. The dark was comforting.
But it was hardly efficient for getting dressed, much less getting into something that matched. Each tiny step pulled her farther away from her sins. Until the time that she could be cleansed once and for all. She flicked the light on.
"Now Hermione...aren't we being a bit dramatic?"
"Hope!" Hermione's eyes went wide and that same familiar fear rose in the pit of her stomach. Fingers like ice brushed back her hair, mirroring Harry's earlier action.
"The fire won't stop me..." She whispered.
Hermione's hand groped the wall and she turned the light off once more. The cold feeling in her temple disappeared. Keeping one hand on the light switch she waved the other one out in front of her.
"Hope?" She called tentatively. There was no answer.
She dragged her hand up the wall and the bright fluorescent light bathed the walk-in closet. Hope's head was tilted slightly as she studied Hermione from the back of the room.
"I hope you're not afraid of the dark."
Hermione scowled at the woman dressed in white and turned towards the clothes hanging along the walls. "You're not real."
"You're right. I'm just a projection of your subconscious." The phantom Hope explained. She looked casually around the brightly lit room; a bored expression on her face. "I don't usually haunt closets."
"Well, it sounds like you don't have much of a choice." Hermione grunted as she jumped slightly to grab a jumper off the top rack.
"Choice is an illusion."
Hermione replaced the sweater and grabbed a white, button-down, blouse instead. "So you keep saying..." She muttered. Witty banter kept the fear down. She slid the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and let the silk garment drop to the floor. She pulled blouse on and buttoned the middle three buttons. The tails reached just past her hips and the sleeves extended past her finger tips. She unbuttoned the cuffs as she walked to the other side of the room.
She found the black mini she was looking for and pulled it off the hanger, ignoring phantom Hope's eyes following her. She stepped into it and zipped up the back, leaving her shirt untucked.
She glanced over her shoulder to find Hope still silently watching her. She pulled her hair out from beneath her collar and walked away.
"They'll never stop screaming."
Hermione paused with her hand on the door. She looked back at Hope, expecting to find an insane grin spreading across her face, but the phantom stared stoically back.
"I hope you're not afraid of the dark."
The light went out.