Title: Nightswimming
Author: FireOpal
Summary: As she went into the darkness, she saw nothing except blackness, and felt a presence come towards her. She stiffened reflexively, her hands by her sides, but was suddenly startled by a pair of soft lips descending on hers. Gasping silently at the unexpected contact, the unseen person slipped a tentative tongue into her mouth, and she responded, without realising what she was doing. It just seemed so right… (if it fits!)
Pairing: DM/HrG. Mentions of AS/FW, AJ/GeW.
SONGFIC – 'Nightswimming' by R.E.M.
Genre: Romance/Slight angst.
11/05/2005 – Amendments made to lyrics when I discovered you weren't allowed to post lyrics in stories! Oops. Full original available via my profile page. Apologies guys.
Professor Hermione Granger, Transfiguration professor, Order of Merlin 1st Class, important member and researcher for the Order of the Phoenix, best friend to Harry Potter, co-destroyer of Voldemort and all round book-worm, sighed. She brushed the straggling ends of her messy brown hair from her haggard face and tucked it behind her ear for the millionth time with a lightly scarred hand. Her eyes, usually a bright, intelligent and energetic soft brown, were now tired and dull as she attempted to concentrate on the class-planning sheets that were scattered across her desk, lit by several floating candles and the moonlight which shone through the window. There were still the Gryffindor-Slytherin 3rd year classes to plan for the first term, and she couldn't concentrate, her overworked mind blank.
The war had left a lot of changes in the wizarding world. Including the shocking death of Albus Dumbledore, having died in his sleep some few days before the last battle. No one had survived unscathed, Harry himself had been laid up in St Mungo's for months, and could barely walk without a cane. Ron had been luckier, he had had his arm amputated after a tussle with Voldemort's snake, Nagini, and the fast-acting venom had spread through the limb before Professor Snape could brew up an antidote. She had been the least injured, but heavily scarred, with thin white lines that ran practically all over her thin body. Another obvious outward effect of the horrendous battle was the long, thin streak of pure white hair in her dark brown masses, caused by over-use of Cruciatus.
Many had died in the battles, other than the great Albus Dumbledore. Colin Creevey, Professor Sprout, Lavender Brown, Blaise Zabini (turned spy for the Light), Charlie Weasley, Dedalus Diggle, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Susan Bones, Alastor Moody (in a suicide rescue for a group of unarmed children) and many more. Too many. Apparently, all the names had been engraved magically onto a plaque in the Ministry foyer, and it took up an entire wall. Others had been severely disabled, like Harry and Ron. Snape would never walk again, literally. When Voldemort had found out who the main spy in his Inner Circle had been, he had not been lenient. He had taken both legs, and nearly driven the potions master insane through Cruciatus. It had taken one hell of a raid to get him out, but he still lived, and had been awarded several high-ranking medals for his bravery.
Others were now locked up in St. Mungo's Mental Health Department, where Alice and Frank Longbottom resided. Luna Lovegood and Alicia Spinnet had been the two that Hermione had known, and it had nearly killed the boisterous Weasley twin when he had heard about his beloved fiancé. Fred had never been the same, but he and George still continued with Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Fred now providing a quiet, serious and sombre side to the duo. Everyone had been very worried about him for a long while, but he was smiling occasionally now, and his twins' marriage to Angelina Johnson had brightened him up a little.
Hermione turned away from her blank-eyed staring at parchment to gazing out of the window. The moon was full and white and round, and for a second she spared a thought for her good friend Remus Lupin. She had seen him earlier, when he had come to Hogwarts to receive his dose of Wolfsbane, and looked tired and ill as ever, but carried a smile. She hoped Harry would stay with him tonight in animagus form; he looked like he needed a break. Then she turned away from the beautiful scene outside and tried to concentrate. And failing miserably.
Throwing down her quill exasperatedly, she stood up abruptly, thin robes swirling around her legs as she left her chair and went to stand at the tall window, quietly conjuring a cup of steaming creamy coffee for herself. As she sipped the dark liquid, she winced slightly, and, waving her wand in a little known and fiddly manner, added more sugar. Drinking a second time, she nodded to herself, and gazed out of the window, trying to unwind and discover why she was so, so, on edge. The Forbidden Forest looked mysterious and inviting in the clear moonlight, the grass moved gently in a nighttime breeze, and the edge of the lake that she could see shone like crystal diamonds in the semi darkness. It was a picture of calmness, tranquillity, mystery, and strangely, comfort.
(Verse)
She could hear, and occasionally see, the owls hoot and swoop through the sky, silent and pale, like miniature ghosts. 'It must be late, the owls are out' she thought to herself, continuing to watch the almost still scene. When she glanced at her watch, she noticed it was half past one in the morning, way past her usual bedtime. As she turned back to the desk and chair, sitting amidst her personal library in her study, she suddenly felt a longing. To leave it all behind. To go out, to see the darkness, to taste the moonlight, to breathe the silence, to hear the breeze. For a second, her common sense tried to talk back – 'It's late, you're tired, you need to finish the work, it's not safe…', but she ignored it. She needed this.
Continuing with the spur of the moment thoughts, she grabbed her summer cloak from where it lay over a chair, snuffed the lights with a flick of her wand, and absently summoned an item of clothing from her room. When she caught it and realised what her subconscious was thinking, she froze. She had thought it had been lost years ago, but the material in her hand proved to her that she had had it all along. Memories flew to her as she stood in the darkness, clinging to the magically water-resistant material.
Another night. Another moon. Another time…It was dark, with a half-moon for her only light. The stars twinkled prettily, but were useless in giving her any more light, but she refused to light her wand, half in fear that she might be caught, half loving the sheer peace and darkness the night brought. Hermione sneaked out of the castle, having dodged the rest of her house by saying she was going to bed, then leaving after they had gone. She was wearing simple muggle clothes, having discarded her Hogwarts robes after the day ended, but held her cloak around her, even though the night was warm. Using common sense and intelligence, she melted into the shadows and ran swiftly and silently across the grounds, until she came to a secluded spot she had visited before.
Every time she was worried, frustrated, depressed, or scared, she would come, down to the lake, slip into the water, and swim in the moonlight. The stars would be her company, the moon her guidance, the water a caring lover around her body. And she would find peace. Calm. Quiet.
Hermione dragged her thoughts out of her past, but shrank the cloth and pocketed it anyway. Just in case… Throwing the cloak around her shoulders, she stood in front of the tall mirror beside her portrait-door. Her eyes were alight like she hadn't seen in a long time; the stiffness and worry had seemed to fly from her shoulders from the expectation. With a small frown that drew across her face quickly, she reached up, tapped her hair with her wand, and it was released from the tight, practical bun, sending wavy brown hair tumbling across her cloaked shoulders, small bits curling across her cheek in wisps. Smiling slightly in satisfaction, she raised her hood, and stepped out of her apartments into the hallway.
The journey through late-night and empty Hogwarts was mostly silent and uninteresting. The air, however, seemed to sense her anticipation, and the odd breeze that drifted through the halls she walked automatically, knowing every turn, made her walk slightly faster. It seemed the very grounds were calling to her…
Shivers ran down her spine as she reached the front doors, and feeling slightly silly as she looked round in slight trepidation, she slipped through them. Throwing the feeling of being watched behind her, she sighed as the breeze drifted across her face, lifting the few strands of hair that were loose from the hood. Feeling safer and calmer already than she had in a long time, she set towards her spot with a slow walk, savouring the night air as she breathed it deeply into her book-dust covered lungs.
(Verse)
She was there slightly slower than she expected; after all these years, her usual walk from the castle was interrupted by new trees, and different clearings, but she followed her instincts, and soon arrived at the little known beauty spot, which, to her looked exactly the same as it had when she was seventeen. Laying her wand down carefully on the grass in the same place she had left it before – in a snug section between the roots of a dead tree – she unclasped her cloak, and laid it on the ground so that she could sit down and take in the atmosphere, before she went into the water.
The shore-side clearing was small, about eight feet square, and shaded by overhanging trees, that were lush with green leaves, and the odd open flower. The grass was soft underfoot, and moved from grass to soft sand to lapping water in smooth gradients. There were two rocks, smooth rocks that had been weathered for many years, that stood like chairs, and they were where she usually draped her clothes, to stop them getting wet. The water that lapped at the secluded spot was soft and slightly cool, like satin, but in the warm August night, this was a blessing. It was dark in places, reflecting the beautiful silk sky, studded with sequin-stars, and the ghostly white moon, which swept through the sky like a slow moving bird.
As she glanced around, she thought back again to the last time she had come here, the night before they had all graduated in seventh year. She had wanted to almost say 'goodbye' to this place, in a way, and had come down alone and spent most of the night here, alternating between swimming out in the water, and just sitting alone, her last night of freedom before she had been thrust on a war-torn world. But there was something else too…
A sudden movement from between the trees had startled her as she padded out of the water, ready to flop down onto her charmed-dry cloak. A glimpse of silver-grey eyes in the darkness was all she saw, but she went to investigate, curious and slightly nervous at being caught out alone, unprotected, out of bounds. As she went into the darkness, she saw nothing except blackness, and felt a presence come towards her. She stiffened reflexively, her hands by her sides, but was suddenly startled by a pair of soft lips descending on hers. Gasping silently at the unexpected contact, the unseen person slipped a tentative tongue into her mouth, and she responded, without realising what she was doing. It just seemed so right…
Too soon, the other person moved back, and Hermione, eyes closed shut in pleasure and love, opened her eyes to try to see who it was. All she saw was darkness, and silence was her only response to her whispered questions.
"Hello? Who's there? Come back."
(Verse)
Hermione slipped out of her robes and clothes, leaving them lying neatly on a nearby rock, safe out of the way of the water. Then she almost reverentially reached for the costume, and slowly pulled it on, suddenly worried it wouldn't fit. It had been a few years after all…
To her delight, the material wrapped around her form just as snug and as silkily as when she had first bought it. Then she walked down the waters edge, and stood in the moonlight for a second, looking across the tranquil waters before walking forwards and sinking her feet into the cool liquid. The small waves drifted over her skin, sending shivers down her spine, but she continued to walk slowly forwards into the lake, until the water was about waist high. She smiled slowly sot herself, the grin lighting her face, before she sprang forwards gracefully, and dived under the water.
It was like being surrounded by moonlight. It touched her skin, pulled her hair back from her face and soothed her mind. Bubbles released from her mouth as she breathed out, then holding her breath as she glided through the water, before reaching upwards, and breaking the water, gasping for breath. She trod water for a moment, revelling in the feeling. Water dripped from her hair, slicked across her pale skin, drained from her costume and she blinked it out of her eyes.
As her breath evened out, she began to stroke across the lake, gliding as gracefully as a swan in the moonlight. Occasionally she would duck her head under water to feel the cool liquid over her face, imagining the starlight over her skin instead of water. Then, near the middle of the lake, she turned and trod water to gaze at Hogwarts castle. From where she was, the majestic stone building rose out of the ground like a sheer cliff, and some trees that followed the rim of the lake stood framing it on either side. Even at this hour, there were a few twinkling lights on, in the Hospital Wing, and where she supposed McGonagle's office must be. It was spectacular, and for a few moments she was lost in the view.
Then she turned back to the shore and struck out again, now swimming faster, pushing herself to the limit. Still she made no splashes, but she was moving through the water like an otter cutting through the water. As she neared the edge and the water was shallower, she took a deep breath of air, and dived deep, touching the bottom of the lake, and she opened her eyes. Deep, marbled blue-green water surrounded her, white moonlight cutting through the clear water to give everything an eerie glow. There were a few nocturnal fish that steered away from the trespasser, and swam quickly away, scales flashing silver. Her hair swirled around her in the water as she moved slowly in this twilight world, her own pale skin shining ethereally.
Finally, the need for air became to great, and she flung herself to the surface, gasping as she reached it, and could breathe again. As she tried to calm her breathing, her eyes caught sight of something on the shore, something near her spot, something with grey eyes that shone between the trees…
Startled, she fell under the water again before she was able to breathe. Her quick, habitual breath took in a deep mouthful of water, which she tried to sputter back out, but only succeeded in taking in more water. Starting to panic, she tried desperately to hold her breath and get to the surface, but it seemed impossible. Her lungs on fire, her stomach heaving, limbs aching and head thumping, she flailed in the water and suddenly the thought passed through her panic-stricken mind – 'I'm drowning'.
On the shore, the man with grey eyes watched Hermione swim faster, then dive. He watched anxiously as she disappeared for a long while, and then blew out a deep breath as she resurfaced. His recaught breath hitched as his eyes locked with her startled brown, and she flailed in the water that just a second ago she had been moving through like a fish. He continued to watch as she disappeared beneath the surface, then swore quietly under his breath (but vehemently), before he unlatched his cloak and ran out into the lake, the water grabbing onto his robes like a dying man's grasp for life and weighting him down. He ignored it, even though a part of his mind that sounded like his deceased father was screaming silently that these were his best work robes. He had ignored that voice for most of his life; he wasn't about to start now. Not when she was in danger.
As he reached where she had gone down, he was swimming, fully clothed. Part of his mind, the part that wasn't screaming at him about his robes, or yelling that she was drowning, or completely blank in horror, told him that he should've left his robes on the shore, and that it was a damn good thing that his father had chucked him into the lake before fully clothed so he would 'learn survival'. Without hesitating, he dived into the water, eyes fully open and struck deep to where he could see his love's flailing form fall through the water. She reached out and latched onto his arm, and he threw that arm more safely around her body, before using his feet and remaining free arm to pull them both out of the water.
They broke the surface, gasping for air, their lungs screaming. Hermione was coughing weekly, trying to get the water out, and had no energy to move, so she hung onto the mysterious stranger as he set back out to shore. Silver eyes swam back to the shore, ignoring his now painful limbs and gasping throat, his only thought on Hermione's safety. Hermione alone was his worry, and his fervour leant him strength enough to bring them to shore, where he stood up, lifting her half-limp body in his arms, cradling her, and walked out of the water, his robes dead weight on his shoulders.
He laid her down gently on the grass, reaching for his cloak and wrapping it around her shivering form. Grabbing his wand from where he'd dropped it before entering the water, he muttered a quick drying charm on her, and helped her cough up the water, before letting her lay back. He saw her weak smile, which made his thumping heart flutter suddenly as though it had morphed into a butterfly. And as her eyes met his, he knew that she knew who he was. And she would either accept him, or throw him away.
The mysterious man dragged her clean out of the water, and she felt him carry her to sore and lay her down in a watery daze. She felt him try to help her cough up the water, and gave him a weak smile as he set her down again, and the fog over her mind started to clear. As her eyes met mercury silver ones, her brain was clear enough to register the face… silver eyes, refined, aristocratic features, sopping wet blonde hair…
"Draco?" she gasped weakly, her eyes flickering over his face searchingly. His pale skin flushed slightly, but he held her gaze and nodded slightly. She gazed into his eyes for a few more seconds, and then whispered breathily. "Why?" Draco Malfoy thought for a second, wondering how to reply. He was startled when he heard his voice answer without any thought at all on his part.
"You were drowning, I couldn't leave you there." Her eyes narrowed fractionally, and he sighed slightly.
"Why were you here?"
"I-I, I wanted to see you."
"See me, Draco? Why? I thought you hated me?" Inwardly, he cursed. 'I really wish I hadn't had to make her think that.' 'But at the time, my cover was more important.' A sensible part of his mind replied. 'More important than her feelings?'
"I never hated you, Hermione." She was shocked. Even when he had turned spy for the Light side, she and Ron and Harry had always been Granger, Weasley and Potter. And here he was using her first name… And the way he said it, rolling off his tongue, so beautiful…
"And you wanted to see me?" Hell, she was persistant! But then, that was one of the many things he loved about her…
"Yes." She almost rolled her eyes, before he continued. "Would, would you understand better if I told you, I told you that the reason I joined the Light side, the real reason I joined the Order of the Phoenix, was, well, was because of you?" She was stunned. He sacrificed his life, nearly died, and turned from his father, his family and his friends, because of her? For her, Hermione the know-it-all Mudblood?
(Verse)
Draco watched nervously as she obviously reeled internally at this information. He could see her thinking it through, and quickly as ever, coming to the logical conclusion.
"Before, the night before graduation, that was you?" she whispered tentatively, eyes confused and messy with torn emotions. He nodded, averting his eyes from the beautiful face before him. Only when he felt a soft, slightly cold hand touch his face gently and turn his face back, did he look at her. Then she reached up, pulling his head down, and their lips met in a tender kiss, Draco's still wet lips against Hermione's dry. It was short, but to both parties very satisfactory. When he pulled back, Draco's puzzled and stormy mercury eyes searched hers.
"Why?" was now Draco's question, and Hermione smiled slightly when she heard it.
"Because I love you. And I think I always have."
"But how could you have loved me? I pretended to hate you for nearly seven years!"
"I saw right through you." She laughed. "And when you joined us, I knew I'd been right all along. Simple." She grinned, lighting up her face. "And besides, you just saved my life. That's got to tell a girl something."
Draco smiled, and for a second, Hermione was shocked. It light up his entire face, made him look so much more beautiful. She smiled back at him, revelling in how happy and comfortable this felt. Being here, with him.
Suddenly, he stood up, and helped her to her feet, and steadying her. He placed her cloak around her shoulders as well as his own, and retrieved her wand and clothes from the floor, letting Hermione take her wand, but barely noticing when she cast a drying charm over him. He half-carried her up to the castle, and, just as she thought he was going to be overprotective and take her to the Hospital Wing, he turned and walked to her apartments, his feet unhesitant. At her inquiring look as to how he knew the journey to her door so well, he blushed and mumbled that he came to check on her occasionally, and always chickened out. She grinned at him, and lay tiredly back in his safe arms.
She had to tell him the password to her apartment – 'Fereverto' – and he walked through the door, and straight into her bedroom, laying her on the bed. Pointing his wand at her chest, he performed, to Hermione's growing amazement, several quite comprehensive and complex healing charms, and felt her body relax and heal under them. Then, he tucked her into bed professionally, just as Poppy Pomfrey or Ginny Weasley, her assistant, would, before conjuring a leather armchair near to her bed and nearly flopping down on it. At her questioning and amused gaze, he replied, in a certain tone of voice that there was no way he was leaving a patient on her own. He smiled at her and lay back, watching as she closed her eyes and softly slipped into sleep, watching over her all the time.
(Verse)
