Chapter Nineteen: Artemis and Endymion
Back again! Thanks everyone who read my story and extra thanks to those who reviewed!
Enjoy all!
Holding my last breath
safe inside myself
are all my thoughts of you
sweet raptured light
it ends here tonight
Maybe we're just trying too hard.
When really it's closer than it is too far.
Cause I'm in too deep and I'm trying to keep,
Up above in my head, instead of going under.
Cause I'm in too deep, and I'm trying to keep,
Up above in my head, instead of going under.
Instead of going under.
The dungeon was void of any sounds at the moment with the sole exception of the hissing and bubbling of the vivid blue cauldron contents. Her bottom lip had become swollen from her constant gnawing and her hands were so sweaty she nearly dropped her flask of murtlap essence twice. He wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with her that particular day for she was usually babbling on about something or another non-stop—not that it was a bad thing. When she spoke, she spoke of not quite important things, but rather, the things she spoke of, made him think. Made him ponder. Only Draco himself had ever been capable of causing him to ponder on things that they'd spoken of. He rather enjoyed her company; especially when he didn't have to talk. But today was different. She was awkwardly silent. Being a typical guy, he assumed it was a 'girl thing' and didn't bother pressing her on her odd behaviour. He also found, that every five seconds or so, she would sneak a glance at him when she thought he wasn't looking.
"Whoa!" Blaise cried as he dove to snatch the vial of mimbulus mimbletonia sap that had inadvertently slipped from Ginny's hands just seconds before it hit the ground. "Weasley, are you okay today?" he asked finally as he carefully placed the vial back onto the rack. "You seem more nervous than usual."
Ginny gulped and shook her ever present green hair. By now the parts that hadn't been completely doused had faded the slightest bit leaving behind an odd brownish mixture. Her hair certainly was a sight to behold. Blaise on the other hand, now his hair seemed even more amazing with the streaks of green and black. It awed the little Gryffindor how perfect this boy seemed to be.
"Y-yes, I'm-I- I'm alright. Just-I'm nervous about the upcoming Potions exam" she lied.
Blaise raised his eyebrows, "oh, um, okay then. –NO! Unicorn bile after the Kelpie hairs!" he quickly took hold of her tiny wrist moments before she could add the potentially fatal ingredient.
Ginny blushed, partly because of her careless mistake, and partly because Blaise was holding her hand—well wrist actually.
Wow…
"Sorry" she mumbled as he let go of her wrist.
"Don't worry about it. Just try to pay more attention next time." Ginny nodded earnestly. "You could also try and pick up some extra potion's texts. They're dead useful." He added.
Suddenly, her heart somersaulted. Now was the perfect chance to put her—or rather Natalie's plan into action.
"Oh, yes that's a brilliant idea—"
Oh Merlin, I'm doing it I'm doing it!
"—there's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend—"
Oh Merlin! There's no turning back now!
"—If, if you're not busy…or anything….d-d'you think maybe you could, er accompany me when I go pick them up?" she finally finished.
"Oh!" said Blaise in a rather surprised tone.
"Just-just so you can help me pick out the best ones of course." Ginny added hastily.
Please, please, please!
"Well, er-I-I can't" he began
"You don't have to if you don't want to" she rushed on sensing his rejection. "—It-it was a stupid idea of mine—oh, is that the bell? I ought to be leaving now. Bye!" whipping around, she began to hurl her possessions into her book bag.
"No-no! Weasley!" he cried, grabbing hold of her hand—yes, her hand this time, before she could leave "I didn't mean that." Ginny flushed even brighter. He still hadn't let go of her hand. "What I meant was I had to do something before, but, I wouldn't mind going with you. Really"
"Um, well, great, then. Thanks" she squeaked and then turned to leave.
"Wait! Weasley!" she quickly whipped around to meet his handsome sapphire orbs once more.
"Y-yes?"
"Meet me in front of Three- er the Hogshead at 3?" he suggested.
"Oh, sure" she replied, as a smile began to sneak its way onto her lips.
"See you then, Weasley."
"See you."
And with that, she quickly spun around and dashed out the doors for she could no longer contain the mile wide grin that was now ever-present upon her lightly freckled face.
.:.
Her eyes flickered. Was it a trick of the light? Or was she just going insane? No, no, she could recognize that hair anywhere. The platinum blond pierced through the darkness like nothing she'd ever seen before. Even in her barely conscious state she could still make out his silver-white locks; glowing almost celestially past the blackness of the night. At that point, her mind was in the process of closing off once again and her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her brown yes flickered again as the image ethereal, silver-haired boy began to fade.
She somehow managed to choke out a few words. "H-help-p-please-air-breathe-can't"
"What?! How?!" Draco asked frantically. He was fully aware that she was on the verge of passing out again.
"C-corset" by now, she had such difficulty breathing, she felt like vomiting.
Hastily, the Slytherin leapt to her other side and attempted to free her of the horrid contraption.
"Damn all these bloody fastenings" he cursed. In his nervous state, his fingers continuously pulled on the wrong strands causing it to tighten even more. He never even noticed when she finally blacked out. "Yes!" he cried triumphantly as he finally got the dress open. "Shit!" his glory spiralled down the drain he realized the corset itself had just as many if not more fastenings. His heart pounded. He didn't want her to die. She couldn't.
She couldn't.
Finally, the gruelling minutes were done with.
"Granger," he whispered. "Wake up."
She didn't stir. His mind filled with various disturbing scenarios. But why should he care what happened to her? She was merely a lowly mud—no, he couldn't bring himself to even think the word. It seemed so wrong; especially at a time such as this. A part of him didn't want her to die, but the other half, simply felt nothing at all. Supposedly it was in his nature.
"Granger" he tried once more.
Still nothing.
Hesitantly, he rolled her over. Her body was limp and her head lolled to one side. Unmoving. His eyes scoured across her body. Even in the death-like state she appeared enchanting. He wasn't sure if it was the way her fair, almost blue-tinged skin contrasted against the darkness of the night, or if it was how her long, auburn hair flowed down her shoulders and sprawled out across the darkened grounds, or perhaps, he had simply drunken one too many goblets of wine; nevertheless, she seemed utterly bewitching. An unwarranted smirk crept over his face at the choice of wording. Bewitching.
Gently, he shook her. "Granger, come on. Speak to me." After receiving no response, he rolled her over to face him. She seemed rather peaceful with the obvious exception of the somewhat contorted expression that was carved into her visage. "Granger, you cannot bloody leave me here! Who else would I have to intellectually banter with?! With you gone I'd have no one to compete with against in classes! Everyone knows you're the only thing standing in the way of me becoming the top student!"
Wait, isn't it a good thing if she dies then? You'd be the top student…
SHUT UP
He shook her again, still nothing. "Come on!" he cried angrily. Roughly, he lifted her up and laid her head in his lap thinking that it might just help….somehow….. "Granger! Come on!" Nothing seemed to be working. What else could he do? Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. What was that thing muggles did when someone had passed out?! Or was that just for when people drowned? He'd seen it numerous times while at Blaise's house. Queer family they had, owning a muggle appliance. The felly-tision he believed it was called. Queer, queer thing. Although, Draco had to admit he liked some of the programs that had been featured. Baywatch in particular. Now those women definitely had their breasts magically enhanced.
What was that thing they did?!
CGA?
No, no…
CSI?
No! No!
CG-CP—
CPR!
That's it!
But he cringed at the thought. It would involve touching her lips with his own…and without her consent!
But she's dying you Dumbass!
He mentally slapped himself before gently laying her head back down onto the floor and tilting her chin upwards. At first, he was tentative. It took him minutes before he actually got within an inch of her, then a centimetre, than, a millimetre, and then, their lips met.
Draco felt awkward. He wasn't sure if this would work, but he tried anyway. It was of course a muggle thing. She was a muggleborn…she was….Granger…but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the feeling his lips upon her own. They were soft and surprisingly sweet despite the fact that she hadn't eaten all night. With a giant exhale, he breathed into her mouth. Giving her what he hoped was life. Draco repeated the process over and over again until he felt her stir beneath him. She was awakening! Desperately, he began to breathe into her quicker and quicker. She coughed lightly and her eyes fluttered open. He looked deep into her pools of liquid bronze flecked with bits of gold. His face was still less than and inch away. Her lips moved ever so slowly and formed a single word, "Draco." Then, the oddest thing happened.
She kissed him.
Draco's eyes closed and his remaining senses overtook him. He could feel her soft, sensuous lips beneath his own that were and had always been oddly cold—icy. He could never quite figure why everyone assumed it was him who had the cold lips. Sure, his hands were often cold, and sometimes even his cheeks, but never his lips. It pleasantly surprised him how her lips seemed to meld perfectly against his own. He was in pure bliss. But then, that nasty voice in his head reminded him, that all good things came to an end.
Wake up Dumbass!
Draco's head jerked up in shock.
Stop daydreaming you idiot!
A part of him sighed. (The very same part that wished Hermione not to die.) But in relief or disappointment, truthfully, he did not know.
Looking down at her, he realized she still lay lifeless in his lap. Then, an idea came to him.
"Wakeup, Mudblood!"
Her eye twitched.
Yes!
He tried again. "Wake up, Mudblood! Otherwise Pansy Parkinson will take your place as head girl next year!"
He just knew this would work.
Her eyes burst open and somehow, her hand found his own and she clenched it tightly. "No!" she panted breathlessly as if she had just run a marathon. "Head girl! Mine! Pansy-NO!"
Draco chuckled, bearing through the pain that had just engulfed his left hand. "Calm down, I was—"he stopped a moment, "It was just a dream."
Her breathing eased the slightest bit, but still, she felt far too dizzy to lift her head and so it stayed in Draco's lap.
"Malfoy?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he mentally debated whether he should tell her it was him or not. Still, it was possible to evade her…..Would she know? She blinked again and her head rolled a bit closer to his chest. He noticed a light coating of sweat gleaming across her forehead.
"Paris?"
The perfect escape.
""Yes, Princess?"
"You-" she took a deep breath, "You came back."
Malfoy coughed. "Er, yes, yes I did." He could never live it down if she were to find out that he had tried to save her.
She made an attempt to raise her head again, but failed dismally. "My head hurts" she mumbled.
"Well, you probably hit your head on the way down" she didn't answer. But instead, he found her staring up at him with wide chocolate tinged honey eyes, much like in his daydream. Draco found a strange sensation pass through his body. It was a chilly streak through his system; he felt himself shiver but was not the slightest bit cold despite the breezy autumn weather.
"Prince…..Paris…..of Troy" she breathed the words out like a breath of air. Then an odd smile crept it's way onto her lips. "Did you know Helena too?"
Draco replied slowly, unsure of what to say." Yes, yes I did."
It happened ever so slowly, as if Father Time had paused the universal clock. She uncurled her fingers and tenderly placed them upon his pallid cheeks, stroking it with the pad of her thumb. Once more, he found himself shivering, this time at her touch. But he was unsure of whether it was because her fingers were as cold as ice or f it was because of the gentle, softness of her caressing touch. It served to both soothe and awaken him, all at the same time. He found himself enjoying every moment of the feeling she'd stirred up within him.
"Helena's a kind woman. You're lucky to have her as a sister. How is she these days?" She continued.
Draco didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about and simply replied "Fine."
Then suddenly, with rather astonishing speed and agility for someone who had been unconscious just a few minutes ago, Hermione leapt up from the ground and onto her feet.
"You liar!" she shrieked pointing an accusing finger at him.
The Slytherin Prince looked up at her in absolute bewilderment. He had no idea what was going on.
"What are you going on about?! How would you know whether or not my sister was fine?!"
The Princess glared at him as he slowly rose to his full 6 foot something or another. "You-are-not-Prince-Paris-of-Troy!" she jabbed him in the chest with her index finger with each word.
Draco was flabbergasted. "How the bloody hell would you know?!"
She looked ready to burst, but before she could utter another word, her legs gave way and she would have collapsed to the ground again if Draco hadn't caught her.
Seeker reflexes come in handy...
"Let go of me!" she cried wrenching herself from his grasp and stumbling backwards.
"What's wrong with you?! I just saved your life and just now I caught you from smashing your head again!? Don't you think that deserves a little respect?!" he fumed in anger.
"Respect?!" Hermione spat while trying to heave herself back onto her feet again. "Why should I give respect to a bloody liar?! An impostor?!"
"Why the bloody hell would you think I was an impostor?!" Draco exclaimed as he wondered how she had figured out he was lying.
"PRINCE PARIS ISN'T REAL!" she bellowed. "TROY ISN'T REAL!"
Draco opened his mouth to say something but he never got the chance.
"HELENA IS YOUR LOVER!"
Bingo.
He could have smacked himself over the head twenty times and still not be satisfied. He knew that! He'd read the story! Damn him for forgetting! HOW could he FORGET THAT?!
"Oh" he said rather pathetically
Damn you! You really are a Dumbass!
She crossed her arms and glared at him from the ground for she found it impossible to get back onto her feet. She still felt terribly faint.
"So?! Who are you?!" she demanded.
Draco faltered. "I-I-I'm"
"Go on! Tell me! I demand you tell me who you are this instant!"
Shit
"I'm-I'm Endymion" he said finally.
Please, please, please don't have read that story!
"Endymion?" she echoed sceptically eying him.
He nodded.
"If you're Endymion, then why did you tell me you were Prince Paris?' Hermione questioned.
Draco pondered a brief moment before replying. She obviously hadn't read that Myth yet. Lucky him….
"Because. I'm not really a Prince."
"So?"
"I'm not a Lord either."
"So?"
"I'm not of royalty. You would never have given me a second look if I hadn't said I was of royalty" he invented.
It was a rather believable story.
It struck a nerve.
Hermione fell for it.
"Why would you think that now? I never said I had anything against those of non-royalty."
"Your father though. He….wanted you to wed a Prince….and I'm…I'm….merely a shepherd."
Damn I'm good
But somehow, Draco found his creative little story to be a reflection of something else….something…vaguely familiar. Some…disturbingly familiar…..
"Oh," she whispered.
She completely understood how he felt for she herself was in his position back in the Wizarding world. She was looked down upon because she was a Muggleborn. Hermione felt sympathy for the man, but still, she could not overlook the fact that he had lied to her.
"You could have just told me the truth you know."
Draco nodded yet again, "I-I was going to the last time we met, but then I-I don't know what happened. I just li—enjoyed your company so much."
Again, he could have bashed his head into the wall. He'd nearly told her he liked her. Whether he was Endymion, Paris, or Draco Malfoy, he could never tell her that he liked her.
She smiled up at him.
"I did too—I just wish you hadn't lied to me."
Kneeling, he found himself returning the sweet smile she gave him. The pale, glowing Phoebe had long arisen above the two and was watching them from above. Her light seemed to shine directly upon the two lost souls, surrounding them with an unbreakable shield of protection from intruders. An angelic essence seemed to sprout from within the beauty that sat before him.
"Forgive me, Princess. I wasn't thinking" he said softly.
Malfoys never did say sorry for just anything. There had to be a damned good reason for it; and this, he believed wasn't one of them.
"You're forgiven. Just promise never to lie to me again."
He couldn't promise that for he knew he was lying to her face this very second. Another rule of Malfoys, they always kept their promises. At least Draco did. His father on the other hand, that man could never be trusted to keep his word. Instead of replying, he locked his own pools of silver abyss with her own bronzed ones, then raised a hand and pressed it against her soft, icy cheek.
"You've got dirt on your face" he said rubbing her cheek.
Hermione found herself blushing and didn't bother to press him for an answer.
He could feel a tinge of heat against his hand for it never left her cheek.
"You look so familiar."
Draco's insides twisted and he dropped his hand.
"Will you take off your mask?" she asked taking his hands into her own.
"I-I can't." he said weakly.
A look of disappointment crossed her face.
"Why not?"
"You-you would never accept me."
It was true.
"Why not? Are you horribly disfigured beneath that mask?" she teased, stroking his hand.
"Merlin forbid!" he chuckled.
Me? Disfigured? Now that's a joke…
An odd expression came over her.
"What's wrong?" he asked giving her a funny look.
She stared at him for a moment but said nothing.
"Princess?"
"N-nothing." she finally said. "Thank you by the way. For saving me. Twice."
"It was nothing. Why were you out here anyway?" Draco asked curiously.
"I….just needed to get away. Get some air, I suppose." she answered.
"Oh."
"Why were you out here? Not many people go out for a stroll in the gardens when there's a ball going on inside the castle."
"I was –er bored" he replied sheepishly.
She smiled her sweet, sweet smile. Something inside of Draco seemed to….dance? Funny way to describe it, but that was what he felt. "I know what you mean. Stupid balls are always so dreadfully mundane."
Instead of replying, Draco found himself lost within her eyes once again. Her delicious, mesmerizing never-ending depths of not mud, but chocolate eyes. As they sat in silence, staring into one another, Draco wondered how he could have ever called her ugly.
She was anything but.
But still, not matter what, she would never accept him and they could never be together. They were not only different in Houses, but in blood, in lifestyles, in everything.
There could never be a Draco and Hermione.
Just then, as his heart felt a jolt of pain run through, he heard a soft rumbling and found Hermione blushing furiously.
"I missed dinner" she confessed feeling rather silly.
Draco grinned at her. "No problem. Lucky for you, Chez Pommes is pulling an all-nighter! So, what will it be?" he asked in an exaggerated French accent, getting up onto his feet. "Apples? Or apples?"
Hermione giggled as he plucked an apple from the tree that she had collapsed by earlier and handed it to her. "Merci beaucoup, garçon" she said, gladly accepting the crimson fruit and cleaning it with her dress.
As she reached her arm out to accept the apple, Draco noticed the scar that the Sword of Mercy had left behind. It had marred her skin. She had marred her skin.
To prove a point.
To him.
He cringed, but luckily, she didn't notice. Watching as she bit carefully into the apple, he decided to get one of his own.
"Good aren't they?" he said conversationally as he bit into the apple.
"Mmmhmm" she replied wiping the trickle of juice that had slid down her jaw.
She had soon finished her apple and tossed aside the core. Turning to face him, she patted the ground beside her, beckoning him to sit down. Mimicking her actions, he tossed his own core aside and sat down next to her. Hermione smiled shyly at him then rested her head against his shoulder before turning her attention back up to the moon that shone above them.
Draco sighed contentedly.
Everything was perfect.
Except…
It wasn't.
Well? What'd you think? Review won't you? (sorry about spacing, it just doesn't seem to work...)
Anyone actually read the Myth about Artemis and Endymion? lol lucky me I'm studying Greek Myths in English so yay! Oh, apparently according to some book 7 j.k rowling interview or something like that; she said that there would be no "Draco becoming good and going on to the light side" thing happening….no DHR? Probably not…but hey, good chance they'll be headboy/headgirl in book 7!!
Hope to see you….hmm…next week then?
Lyrics by: Evanescence: My Last Breath and Sum 41: In Too Deep
