Chapter Twenty-Seven: You were Never truly there
Thanks to SugarQuill for the brilliant idea of a recap, especially this time as it's been a while.
Prior Incantato
The very first thing she did when he left was place a number of dresses beneath her covers so that anyone who came into her room would assume she was asleep beneath her covers. There certainly was truth behind the title of 'cleverest witch in Hogwarts'. Her heart racing, Hermione searched her room for a sack of some sort and began to fill it with whatever provisions she deemed necessary. By the time she had finished, Draco still had not returned. Alone, her mind began to fill with wicked scenarios of Draco leaving her and never returning. But she shook her head fiercely in denial. Draco would never do that. Just when Hermione was about to leave and find him, Draco staggered through the mirror passage, and in his possession were 2 black cloaks, and a rather familiar sword of some sort.
"Are you ready?" he asked, breathlessly.
Hermione nodded and hugged him tightly. "Let's go."
Together, they climbed down the balcony, and disappeared into the gardens.
Finite Incantatem
Don't let me let you go
don't leave me here all alone
I knew your smile would mean the death of me
but I couldn't care less, no I couldn't care less
so sweetheart kill me constantly
you took my last breath, you took my last breath
and I'll choke on my last words
xXx
And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this momentAnd all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight
The brownish mixture of earth combined with the flawless white of snow crunched oddly beneath their feet, eventually sneaking its way into her satin lined slipper. The wind nipped a bit too hard on her ice-cold cheeks for her liking and the darkened grey clouds that loomed above rumbled threateningly—but still, they ran on.
Hermione's hand still lay firmly and safely in Draco's own. With him by her side, her fears of the forthcoming lessened. "Draco, please, I can't run anymore. I need to rest," she pleaded, stopping to clutch at her side. Draco nodded, complying. He'd been rather surprised that she had kept up with him for such a long time.
The two stood at the side of a wide dirt road, nearing the entrance of town. They had long since left the castle grounds but still were miles away from safety. It would be weeks before they would be able to find a place far enough from the Granger castle and, of course, Hadrian. Draco was quite certain that the conniving bastard would soon discover the two missing and immediately send out a search party of some sort. "Where will we rest for the night, Draco? The sun set about an hour ago. It won't be long until the sky goes completely dark," Hermione stated after catching her breath.
The silver-haired boy glanced up at the sky. She was indeed correct—not that she ever wasn't of course. The moon was beginning to appear through the darkened sky and the faint traces of the sunlight that still lingered began to fade. It was early winter and the daylight was getting shorter and shorter with each passing day. "I know, I suppose we could find a place in the village to stay for the night." Reaching forwards, Draco once again took hold of Hermione's hand and together they walked the remainder of the way to the village.
xXx
"And where did you two say you were from?" the innkeeper queried, examining the valuables he had received as a payment with suppressed interest.
"Troy," Draco replied smoothly without the slightest hesitation.
The corners of Hermione's lips quirked upwards from beneath her hood in remembrance.
"And your names?" he questioned further.
"Artemis and Endymion." This time Hermione answered, but Draco did not show any sign of a smile—instead, it seemed a look of uneasiness had come over him.
The innkeeper eyed them once more with his beady charcoal eyes. "Right then, follow me up," he said gruffly. In silence, he led the two runaways up a single flight of stairs and down a short hallway. Eventually, they reached a small oak door with a dull brass knob. "Room six. My wife will be up to serve you dinner shortly. Enjoy your stay." Quickly shoving a large copper-coloured key into Draco's hands, the innkeeper scurried away, leaving Draco and Hermione standing alone before their suite.
"Do you think he recognized me?" the princess murmured, watching the retreating figure of the scrawny man.
"Shouldn't have," Draco muttered, slipping the large key into the hole.
Stepping in, Hermione quickly threw off her heavy cloak and collapsed onto the bed. "Well, this is rather small." She frowned, glancing around the room. Draco merely shrugged and began to unload the burlap sack that Hermione had filled earlier onto the wooden table sitting beneath the grubby window.
"We should have enough to last us for a long way," Draco reported counting the articles of jewellery that he had spread across the tiny table.
"A long way to where, Draco? We don't even know where we are—and we don't know how to get back….back home…" she said softly, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Home seems like a dream now—with each day that passes, it's getting harder and harder to remember anything—Harry's eyes, Ron's laugh—Hogwarts—my whole life."
Draco strode across the room to where Hermione was in less than two strides. "I know…but—but maybe this is better, Hermione," he said, gently stroking her wild, auburn locks. "This way—we can be together. If we ever went back to our world—our former lives, we wouldn't be together. Everything would be keeping us apart."
Hermione looked up at him and gave him a long, hard look—as if searching for something—something she obviously couldn't find. "Are you saying—are you saying that if we ever found our way back to Hogwarts—we'd be—over?"
The Slytherin boy dropped her gaze and stared down at the faded coral coloured sheets. "Maybe," he replied carefully. They fell silent for a while—perhaps in fear. Draco dared not look her in the eyes. He knew he could never let himself lose her—but if his father ever found out—if anyone ever found out—there would be dire consequences—not only for himself, but for Hermione, and he would never want to see her hurt because of him. Not when she didn't deserve it.
"It scares me to think I could lose you, Draco," she whispered, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Why is everything turning out so horribly?"
Gently, he placed his arms around her body and gave her a light squeeze. "It just seems that way. But I don't think anything has ever turned out so right. It just seems like perfect sense—us; together. I really don't know why the world is so against us being together."
Raising her head, Hermione placed a light kiss upon Draco's forehead. "Maybe the world is envious of what we have." She smiled.
But Draco found no humour in her words. The world was indeed envious of them. Leaning forwards slightly, he kissed her warm, familiar lips with a strange feeling of yearning and desperation. Ever so slowly, they broke apart, a pleasant sensation still tingling upon his lips.
"Promise me you'll never leave me, Draco. Please, promise me," Hermione whispered, looking deep into his silver-grey orbs.
Draco held her hands tightly within his own and closed his eyes.
A rapping noise followed by a woman's voice echoed from the opposite side of the small oak door.
"Knock, knock, dinner time!" Quickly, Draco leapt off of the bed and flung open the door.
"Good evening my dears, I've brought you up some dinner. I hope you two like mutton stew," said the stout little woman jovially, as she held out a large tray before her. "I've also added a few ginger snaps for dessert—I do hope you'll find this enough—if you would like some more, I will be down on the first floor."
"Thank you so much," said Hermione getting up to accept the tray, echoing the woman's cheery tone of voice. "I'm sure this is plenty."
"Ah," the woman smiled and handed over the tray of food, "you look familiar, you know. What did you say your name was now?"
"Her-"
"Hermia—her name is Hermia," Draco quickly cut in. "Thank you for everything, but I'm sure we'll be fine—good night then" he said hurriedly, ushering the portly woman out the door.
"Good night!" Hermione heard the woman call out as Draco shut the door in her face.
"Be careful," Draco said sharply as he turned towards the Gryffindor who had placed the tray upon the bed. "I don't care how damned nice she seems—you cannot slip up again."
Hermione winced slightly at both his tone and her folly. "I know—it won't happen again—I wasn't thinking."
Dragging a chair from across the room, Draco carefully balanced the tray atop the wooden stool and began to tear up the loaf of bread that had been served with the stew. "Eat," he commanded, pushing a bowl of the hot stew towards Hermione. "You'll need the strength for tomorrow—we've got a ways to go."
"You'll never have to worry about my eating habits I assure you," she said, grinning coyly at his protectiveness then helping herself to a morsel of bread and dipping it into her stew.
"No, judging by your size I suppose I won't," said Draco lightly, taking a bite out of the bread. "Ay!" he exclaimed as Hermione knocked him playfully in the shoulder.
"You best watch what you say, Malfoy," Hermione warned, reaching for a second piece of bread. "Or I might just sit on you….and crush your pretty-boy face."
"I deeply resent that comment. My looks are as manly as one's face can get. Just—" he paused a second "—just watch yourself. We must be aware of every potential danger."
"Yes, yes—CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" she bellowed in imitation of a certain one-eyed professor. Hermione giggled as he flinched, his bread tumbling soundlessly onto the platter. "Twitchy little ferret still, aren't we?"
"I will pretend I didn't hear that," Draco said indignantly as he cleaned up his mess. "I'm not trying to sound paranoid, but just be careful; promise me you'll be more careful next time."
Hermione sighed dramatically. "I will, I will, I promise. Stop worrying and finish eating, won't you?"
The blond-haired boy frowned slightly, but ceased his nagging and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Just watch your pretty little self."
xXx
"Four days."
Rubbing her eyes gently, Hermione rolled over to her side and replied, "Sorry?"
"Four days. If we're lucky enough to find some sort of transportation we can reach the next town in about four days," Draco repeated, not bothering to look up from the map he had received from the innkeeper's wife. "There should be somewhere we can rent…or buy a horse."
"Oh…come rest now, won't you? It must be hours past midnight. You need your rest just as I do." Hermione beckoned, shifting to one side of the bed. "Come on."
Draco reluctantly nodded and extinguished the short stick of candle that had been illuminating the room. "You're right," he murmured, slipping beneath the covers alongside the Gryffindor. "Good night," he whispered, resting an arm across her waist.
"Good night, love," Hermione said softly, feeling comfort within the weight of his touch. "Sweet dreams."
xXx
As expected, it was not Draco who woke early that morning, but rather Hermione. Yawning soundlessly, she rolled over onto her other side, feeling a delightful warmth across her mid-section. When she did, to her amusement, Hermione discovered a silently sleeping Slytherin. She smiled to herself as she realized this was the very first time she had ever seen him asleep. His chest rose up and down at a slow, steady rate. Had she not been gazing so intently, she would have thought he had stopped breathing altogether. Her fingers itched to brush aside the single lock of silver-blond hair that had fallen across his eyes, but she restrained herself for fear of awakening him from his peaceful state. She loved the way he looked at the moment and all she felt because of him. Everything from the butterflies that still seemed to flutter about within the pit of her stomach each time she looked his way, to the sweet, promising kisses that seemed to send her mind into a wonderful spiral into oblivion and beyond.
Just then, his eyes began to slowly open, revealing to her his mesmerizing silver-greys. Hermione watched contentedly as Draco gradually awoke before her with a smile to match her own.
"You just couldn't take your eyes off me all night, could you, Granger?" He smirked mischievously and sat up, leaning back against one arm. Hermione fell back onto her pillow laughing. "What!"
Turning over onto her side to face him, she replied between breaths, "You are such a silly little bint!"
"And that's bad how…?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity.
"It isn't—never change, you prat." Bouncing up, she pecked him on the cheek and patted his head of rumpled blond hair. Skipping out, Hermione picked up her clothes and left to go wash up.
The Slytherin watched her in utter bemusement, wondering how he ever got so lucky as to have someone like her—a bushy-haired, know-it-all muggleborn.
xXx
Feeling as if she were trapped inside an impenetrable orb of bliss, Hermione glided down the musty hallway in search of a washroom of some sort when she came upon the innkeeper's wife.
"Excuse me," she said timidly, "but you do have a place where I could go and wash up?"
"Certainly," the woman smiled, "but wouldn't you rather have a nice relaxing bath? I've actually drawn one out already, but the woman who requested it seems to have left early."
"Oh," said Hermione, mildly surprised at her good fortune, "well, I suppose. That would be wonderful. Thank you."
The innkeeper's wife quickly led her towards the bath and as soon as she left, Hermione slide into the hot water, ecstatic as she had gotten accustomed to taking long hot baths now. She sighed contentedly as the pleasurable feeling of water washed over her skin.
Slowly, Hermione lowered her head into the water and gently began to wash her hair. There didn't seem to be any soap around so this, she decided, would have to do.
Flashes of what Draco had said to her last night resonated within her mind. She truly didn't want to lose him—did that mean she loved him? Did he love her? Love…it wasn't something she had contemplated daily, or even ever, before now. Did she really love Draco? Her mother had taught her to find someone that loved her more than she loved them, but Hermione had decided back then that she wanted a mutual relationship; she didn't want to be with someone she didn't love and she didn't want a love slave. She wanted a husband. A plain old, loving, caring, intelligent (enough) husband. She never did agree with her mother's ethics. Did that mean that her mother didn't love her father as much as he loved her? The thought disturbed her deeply. Carefully lifting her damp head out of the water, she began to wring the liquid out from her hair. Mutual—mutual was all she wanted. Draco was mutual, wasn't he?
Just then, Hermione heard whispers from somewhere outside the door. The walls were terribly thin, she decided.
"Are you sure?" said a familiar gruff sounding voice
"Of course I am. A face like that isn't too difficult to forget I assure you. Although she had looked slightly better at the ball." Came the once jovial sounding voice of the innkeeper's wife. She no longer sounded warm and welcoming.
The ball? But certainly they weren't of royalty of any sort, were they? Perhaps this was a different ball, though, Hermione thought.
"The witch never gave Orion a chance. I'll be damned to hell if I were to let her get away."
"Mother, please, she was at least ten years younger than me—don't do this. I have no interest in her, mother." A new voice was now brought into the conversation.
"Yes, dear, don't overreact. Why bother getting involved with them anyway?"
"Well, it's too late now; the prince should be here any minute," she said haughtily.
"When did you summon them?" came what must have been Orion's voice.
"Hours ago. The Granger place isn't that far away by horse."
"Fine—but when they get here—just—don't involve me," said Orion nervously.
Hermione's blood ran cold. That wicked woman had betrayed her! The term "appearances can be deceiving" had never been so fitting. The moment the steps had died away, Hermione leapt up from the large basin of water and threw on her clothing without bothering to dry herself. The door was locked when she reached her room and she had to knock on the door several times before anyone answered.
"Draco!" she gasped, rushing into him.
"You're soaking wet!" he exclaimed, stepping back from her.
"They—they—" She turned and bolted the door shut. "They know!" she whispered in terror.
"Who knows what?" Draco asked in confusion.
"The innkeeper—no—his wife—and her son—they—she recognized me! I think—we –we have to leave NOW!" she cried frantically. The Slytherin stared back in horror. "Come on! Pack our things and let's go!"
"But how do we get out? They won't just let us leave!" Draco said, stopping her as she reached for the door.
Hermione glanced about the room as her eyes fell upon the tiny window. "Is it too high to jump?" she questioned, striding towards the opening.
Draco followed close behind. "I—I don't know," he replied, nervously looking down. "It…it looks quite high. I don't know how well the snow is going to cushion our fall."
Hermione hesitated, biting at her lower lip. "It's too risky."
Suddenly, a rapping at the door caused Draco to jump back several steps. "Who's there?" he demanded, catching himself.
"My name is Orion. You are in danger—I want to help you, princess."
Hermione glanced over at Draco as if to ask whether or not this man was to be trusted. Ever so slowly, he nodded. Tentatively, Hermione unlocked the door and in stepped a nervous looking man somewhere in his late twenties Hermione would have guessed had she not been so terrified.
"The prince is after you," he said quickly, shutting the door behind him. "You need to get out of here now!"
"Why are you helping us?" Draco demanded, stepping towards the man in hopes of intimidating him.
"Not that we're being ungrateful, of course," Hermione interjected quickly.
He hesitated." It, it just seems right. My mother, she's—just awful. I'm not doing this just for you. I have my own reasons. Just take my word," he replied.
Draco stared at the man, still feeling a bit reluctant to trust him.
"How are we going to get out then?" he said finally, deciding to at least hear what Orion had in mind.
"I can take you—by horse. I know someone that can help you," he answered. "But we have to leave now."
It didn't seem like they had any other alternative. Draco nodded and took Hermione's hand. Together, they followed Orion out the door, praying that he wouldn't lead them into danger.
xXx
The ride was not the least bit pleasant, but luxury was without a doubt the last thing on their minds. At the present, Hermione and Draco were stuck inside a small windowless carriage being towed by Orion and his steed. The noise outside was muffled by the walls of the coach. Hermione found it strange that the walls of the carriage were thicker than those of the inn.
Unconsciously, Draco's grip around Hermione's shoulders tightened as they went on. The two had no idea as to where this man was taking them, nor did they know whether or not he would lead them to safety. But his nature didn't seem devious, and his voice was sincere. Hermione had always been taught to trust, and she would trust him—for the time being.
"I'm scared, Draco," Hermione whispered as she looked up into his anxious slate orbs.
"Don't be," he said softly, pressing his lips onto the top of her head in reassurance. "We'll be fine."
The Gryffindor shivered as a cold draft snuck through the cracks of the carriage. This reminded her frighteningly of the Holocaust—something she had learned in muggle school. She didn't know where she was going, what was going to happen, or whether or not she was going to live through it all.
"Don't leave me—don't leave me," she whispered, burying her head into his chest.
"I'm right here. Don't worry," he said soothingly as he stroked her damp hair. "Relax."
He sounded a thousand times more composed than he actually felt. Draco was every bit as terrified as she was.
The time crawled by as if slowing them down just so they would be caught by Hadrian, but eventually they stopped. The carriage door flung open to reveal a rather frazzled looking Orion.
"Come hurry, follow me, we haven't got much time," he commanded breathlessly as he helped Hermione out.
Draco glanced around his surroundings as they exited the rickety wooden coach to find that he recognized none of what surrounded him. The feeling of apprehension intensified within the back of his mind. Instinctively, he reached for Hermione's hand, jerking her from the grip of the light-brown haired man.
"This way," Orion said, leading them up a single flight of stairs into a small unfurnished room. "In here, hurry."
Draco stopped short, holding onto Hermione tightly. "Why are we here?" he demanded, refusing to take another step.
"Please, my friend shall be here shortly. But you must hide for now," pleaded Orion.
"Come on, Draco," Hermione said softly, taking hold of his hand in assurance.
Draco's eyes wandered from Hermione's own to the light, crystal bluish ones of Orion. Reluctantly, he stepped in, feeling a terrible chill as he did so.
"Stay here until I return," Orion said, leaving the two alone inside the room. "Don't make a sound."
The moment he left, Draco began to pace. Leaving his fate in the hands of a complete stranger was not something he was all that comfortable with. He much preferred being in control. His mind spun with worry and fear. Despite all that had happened so far, he still couldn't fully trust the man. He couldn't trust anyone, in truth. It was a bit of a bother being the way he was sometimes.
"Draco, will you please stop pacing?" Hermione implored with hint of irritation in her voice. "You should save your strength—I'm quite sure we won't be carried the whole way through this—and you're making me feel queasy."
The blond-haired boy stopped, taking a seat before her. "Where is 'this' exactly?" he asked quietly.
Hermione cast her head downwards. "I don't know. But it's something—something good, I can feel it."
"You're too optimistic for your own good, you know that, Granger?" He grinned faintly, once again taking hold of her hand.
"Well, it's certainly better than being pessimistic isn't it?" She smiled, squeezing his hand back gently. "You know what I've been thinking of, Draco?"
"Me?"
She nudged him playfully in the shoulder. "Close actually. I've been thinking about us."
"Really now."
"Mmmhmm, and what we're going to do when we get out of here," she said "I was picturing….something far, far away from here of course, somewhere by a lake….with ducks, or maybe a stream, well, water of some sort, and our own apple tree beside our quaint cottage where I could pick apples just by sticking my hand out of the window. That'd be wonderful, wouldn't it? And, of course a large property where we could raise children and you could teach them how to….I don't know, ride? Fly?"
"Children?" said Draco, raising his eyebrows. "You're thinking quite far into the future. What makes you think I want children?"
"If you want anything to do with my future, Draco Malfoy, then there had better be children," she replied, frowning at him.
"I just hope I make it though today, Hermione, with you," he sighed.
"We will, I promise you that, you bint, just you wait and see, there'll be little Dramione's running about in no time," she teased, kissing him sweetly on the cheek.
"I don't think anyone should name their child Dramione," said Draco seriously.
Hermione laughed at his seriousness then gently laid her head upon his crossed legs. "Maybe, Draco, maybe."
Time passed slowly, although he could have been wrong seeing as he had no way of telling what time it could possibly have been as the sky seemed to have remained a constant dreary grey. Hermione had fallen asleep long ago within his lap but he himself had not been able to catch even a moment's worth of rest. In spite of Hermione's attempts to soothe his wracking nerves, Draco still felt on edge, attentive to every sound he heard beyond and within the walls of the room. Finally, deciding he could no longer leave his fate to blind luck, Draco carefully moved Hermione onto the ground and headed out the door, determined to find out exactly what was going to happen.
But he soon discovered that was impossible. A feeling of panic arose within the pit of his stomach, determined to choke him to death. The door was locked.
Why would Orion lock them in? Why would he lock them in from the outside? Would it not have been safer to lock the door from the inside?
Hurriedly, Draco rushed over to Hermione and shook her from her peaceful sleep. "Hermione, wake up, we have to get out of here!"
"What? Why? Is Orion back?" she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
"No, he's locked us in, this just isn't right. We've got to get out of here," he said urgently.
"Draco, you're overreacting, you have no proof that Orion is working against us," she said reasonably.
"But we have no proof that he's not working against us either," Draco countered. "Please, let's go."
"But how?" Hermione exclaimed feeling frustrated at Draco's argument. "You said the door was locked"
"The—the window! We're only a level up. We can jump," he said rushing towards the window. "And look! There're horses! Unattended!" he proclaimed excitedly. Finally, things seemed to be going his way. Quickly, he pried open the window that seemed to jammed at first. "Come, I'll go first. I'll—I'll catch you!"
"Draco, you're hysterical!" she said worriedly. "Please, just come sit back down."
"No! I don't trust him. Please, Hermione, this may be our only chance to escape." Without waiting for a reply, Draco leapt out the window, landing with a thud against the snow covered ground.
Hermione shrieked, running over to the window. He looked up at her, holding the reigns of the grey coloured stallion. "I'll catch you!" he cried up. Nervously, she leaned against the window sill, her head leaning out, feeling utterly relieved that he was still alive. Hermione bit her lip yet again and glanced back at the room. "Come on, Hermione!"
"Oh Merlin," she whispered to herself. Then closing her eyes, she jumped. The wind rushed past her ears, and stung mercilessly at her cheeks as she fell, spiralling down towards the earth.
"Oof," Draco grunted as he caught her, but only barely as he toppled backwards at her unexpected weight. "You're heavy," he stated bluntly as she crawled off of him.
"It's not my weight! It's merely the force. Newton's second law. Force equals to mass times acceleration," she recited, feeling slightly miffed.
"Right, of course it is," Draco murmured, having not the faintest idea what she had just said. "Come, get on."
Awkwardly, Hermione mounted the horse with Draco following behind her. "Why are you side saddling?" he asked as he seated himself behind her.
"I'm wearing a dress, you prat. Do you really want me to ride forwards?" she said stiffly.
"Oh, right," Draco replied sheepishly. With that said, he gently dug his heels into the horse and it began to trot ahead at a relatively brisk pace. The scenery was rather dull, but the dirt roads seemed to wind and twist every now and then just to keep things interesting.
"How do you know which way you're going?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Straight ahead seems like a good direction, don't you think?" said Draco.
"This is ridiculous, you know that, right?"
"Everything's ridiculous, Hermione," he murmured, "everything's ridiculous."
Sighing, Hermione leaned back against his chest as Draco steered the horse forwards into what could have been, for all they knew, the end of the earth. But as it was, the end of the earth wasn't all that far away. They soon stopped as they met a large crowd of townspeople gathered together in the middle of the road with their backs facing towards them.
"What's going on?" Draco asked a young boy standing nearby.
"You must dismount to pass. There's some sort of obstruction ahead," replied the boy.
Hesitantly, Draco dismounted, beckoning Hermione to follow suit. The mob of villagers murmured and muttered to one another; nothing of which either of the two runaways could distinguish.
"Stay here, I'll go find out what's going on up ahead," Draco whispered, squeezing her hand gently. "Don't go anywhere."
Hermione nodded, releasing his hand. She watched intently, following his every move as he sunk into the mass of villagers.
The grey clouds above suddenly rumbled and a flash of lightening illuminated the dreary skies. To their good fortune, the air stayed dry without the slightest hint of rain.
Frustrated, Hermione stood on her tiptoes, attempting to see over the crowd, but inevitably her attempt was fruitless. A slight feeling of panic stirred her insides. Pricks developed upon the back of her neck causing her hair to stand on end. Cautiously, she drew her hood up, hiding her face from the curious surrounding faces.
Suddenly, Hermione felt a hand grip her wrist, pulling her forcefully into the wall of villagers. The simmering panic within her quickly boiled, overflowing. "Let go of me!" she demanded, holding up an arm across her face as to shield herself from smashing into the people around. "Who the bloody hell are you?" But there came no reply as she was dragged ruthlessly through the townspeople. No one seemed to notice that she was being somewhat kidnapped, screaming loudly for help. It appeared that as she passed, most of the people either turned their backs of her or stepped aside, watching as she was being captured.
After what seemed to be miles into the crowd, it seemed they'd reached the very centre of what had caused the commotion in the first place.
"Your highness! I've got her! I've got her!" Hermione's captor shrieked delightedly, roughly shoving her forwards.
Wrenching her wrist out from the iron of grip of her kidnapper, Hermione jerked backwards, stumbling onto her behind. A strange silence came over the crowd as she felt a large figure tower above her. Without bothering to remove her hood, she glared upwards.
"Bastard," she hissed vehemently in spite of the fear that filled her within. Quickly, she scanned her surroundings. Her blazing amber eyes narrowed as they fell upon Orion and his parents, all leering at her with a large bag of what appeared to be coins within their hands.
They had been traitors! All of them! Hermione slapped herself mentally for being so trusting. She should have known not to trust Orion after what she had heard.
Hadrian smirked. "You kill me, you know, you really do" He paused to let out a mocking laugh. "And I will not permit my future wife to use such vulgar speech around me."
"What did you do to Dr—Adonis?" Hermione demanded, getting up to her feet.
His glacial blue eyes held a wicked gleam causing her heart to drop out from her chest. "I didn't do anything to him, my sweet—but unfortunately, I can't say the same about my guards." Slowly, he stepped aside to reveal a battered looking, yet still breathing Slytherin.
Outraged, her hand flew up to strike Hadrian across the face, but just as Draco's were, his reflexes were much quicker than her own.
"I don't think so," Hadrian said venomously as he caught hold of Hermione's forearm. "Try to be a bit more…polite, won't you. Your lover is still in my command." He jerked her forwards placing his lips next to her left ear. "I can still kill him," he whispered softly.
A sickening feel arose within her. She was at loss for words and her mind raced to think of a single thing she could do; but nothing short of surrendering could save them now.
Her eyes stayed upon Draco's beaten body, praying he would be all right. "What do you want/." Hermione asked finally, knowing full well the answer.
"What else but your hand in marriage—and his"—he glanced over at Draco "—exile."
Slowly, he released her arm but she did not move. "Why? Why do you want my hand in marriage? You're already a prince—and you have Spain."
Hadrian laughed disdainfully and began to circle her. "I do not have Spain; Zander does—but with you, I could become King once your father passes on."
She glared at him. He was merely a power crazed psycho. A memory was lit within the back of her mind as she recalled Hestia telling her that Hadrian had a brother named Zander who was years old than Hadrian. "Take Thaleia then, she's the same age as me!" she said suddenly.
"Do you really think I would have gone through all this trouble to get you if I could have just had Thaleia?" he scoffed, continuing to circle her like a predator would its prey. "She's been betrothed to Lord of the Shits of there"—he motioned to Draco once again—"and my mother is her mother's sister. I'd rather not marry my cousin…" Hadrian paused and began to mutter under his breath, "…in spite of what my parents seem to want..."
"Queen Arachne!" she blurted out in surprise.
"Who else."
Suddenly, Draco coughed, a mouthful of blood ran down the front of his shirt. His silver-grey eyes flickered open and Hermione's attention was drawn back onto the present predicament. As his body stirred, a guard placed a firm foot upon his chest, causing him to cough harder, gasping for air. "Let him go," she ordered, not taking her eyes off of him. "Let him go—without hurting him and I'll go with you."
Draco fell silent as he stared back up at her intensely as if begging her not to do this. "Fine" said Hadrian indifferently "—but you can never see him again—and if I ever catch sight of him near you, he's dead."
Tentatively, Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Guards! Help the princess into the carriage," Hadrian commanded.
The guards that were flanking Draco left his sides and led Hermione into the carriage. She dared not look back at him as she felt her heart breaking more and more with each step she took. "Good bye, Draco," she whispered, fighting back her tears until she was inside of the coach. Hermione refused to let the bastard see her break down.
xXx
As she sat down within the spacious carriage, Hermione distinctly heard another heart-shattering clap of thunder. Perhaps if she was lucky, Hadrian would get struck by lightening and she could run away with Draco. Another roar of thunder broke loose, this time if possible it sounded louder than before. Perhaps he would get struck twice now and maybe he would die—this way, she'd never have to see his sneering face again.
Tap Tap Tap
She could hear the drops of rain begin to fall from the sky, lightly rapping at the carriage walls as if beckoning her to come out and play.
Tap Tap Tap Tap TapTapTapTap
The rain fell harder now. Had she bothered to look out, she would have seen something similar to a transparent sheet with a tint of grey, thrashing down from the darkened clouds that loomed above the spectacle of mortals below them.
Without warning, a loud cry of pain broke out through the deafening pounding of the rain. Hermione hurried out of her seat; she recognized that scream!
Recklessly, she forced the door open with a swift kick, sending it flying into the guard that had been stationed outside of her coach. Her head turned towards the sound of metal clashing forcefully against metal. The crowd had moved back quite a ways making room for the two men wielding swords.
"Stay back, Hermione!" Draco shouted as he spotted her out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes, princess, listen to the git," Hadrian added, panting heavily for air as he did so, "Don't want you—getting—hurt before our wedding now!"
Hermione watched in terror as the two fought the battle to the end. It seemed neither one had any advantage over the other. She felt neither cold nor wetness as the rain steadily struck down at her, prickling at her raw cheeks. The water began to blur her sight as she watched on intently; praying for it to be over soon—but even more that Draco would come out victorious. She felt utterly helpless as she stood by, searching unsuccessfully for something she could use to assault the prince. Suddenly, she spotted the guard that she had earlier taken out, half wondering where his sidekick had gone, and swiped the dagger that had been tucked securely into his belt.
Stealthily, the princess slipped directly in line with Hadrian's back and started towards him; her hand shaking violently as she neared.
Draco glanced up and caught sight of her just as she lunged and buried the silver dagger into Hadrian's right shoulder.
A cry of pain rung out as if crying into the heavens as he fell to his knees in defeat. Twisting the dagger out from inside of him, Hermione's insides squirmed as she tossed it far away. Draco promptly dropped his sword and rushed to Hermione's side, embracing her with all his might. "Hermione," he murmured, tenderly kissing her forehead, then both her reddened cheeks and finally, her paled trembling lips.
Hermione felt a comforting sensation immediately replace the trepidation that had conquered her mind. His body seemed to pulsate with a near magical warmth. "Draco" she whispered as she buried her head into his chest. "Draco, I think I killed him."
"Not…kill per se, but—just—Hermione, look at me—"he said placing both his hands on either side of her face and gently lifting her head towards him. The fire in her copper orbs seemed to have dimmed the slightest bit, but they seemed to him as beautiful and innocent as ever. "He was going to kill me, Hermione, you did a good thing—believe me—you did." Then he paused. "Well, that is, unless you wanted him to kill me."
Hermione hiccupped and let out a soft laugh. "Of course not" she smiled, leaning in to kiss her knight in shining armour once more—although now it seemed that she was his knight in shining armour. She relished in the feeling of having him with her, they would be together now. Nothing could stop them.
Just then, Draco's body slumped forwards and his lips released an agonizing moan of pain.
Hermione's attempt to keep him up failed miserably as he fell to the ground, knocking Hermione backwards. As he fell, Draco revealed a furious, looking prince, towering over his body, laughing hysterically.
"NO!" Hermione cried as she struggled to get to her feet and reach her fallen lover. "You bastard!" she shrieked, dropping down to her knees, cradling Draco's head upon her legs. Her hands were now dripping with blood as she attempted to wrench the presently glowing sword of Mercy that Hadrian had deeply embedded into Draco's left side. But the sword refused to move from within Draco's flesh. "Draco!" she cried frantically shaking his body. "HELP! Somebody, please help!" She looked over her shoulder, but the crow seemed to have dissipated along with Hadrian.
"Hermione—"he croaked.
Her hand brushed across his forehead, wiping away the blood and dirt that he had acquired when he had fallen. "Draco?" Tears began to fall from her eyes, splashing through the river of blood across his temple.
His eyes fluttered a moment and she pressed her forehead against his as if willing him to awaken. As he slowly regained the bare about of consciousness he could muster, he found his breath was weak and his vision blurred with a strange red colour. "No, don't c-cry, this is funny. Don't you see? This is the s-sword of Mercy, Herm-mione—laugh!"
If anything, this made her cry even harder. In spite of his pain, Draco still wanted her to be happy." It's not funny, Draco." Her voice cracked oddly as she attempted to wipe the crimson blood trickling down from his face, staining his alabaster skin. "It's not funny."
With his last ounce of strength, Draco resisted from screaming out in excruciating pain and instead, took Hermione's hand within his own. "Her—Hermione, never—sur—surren—surrender. I lo—"
Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms wrenching her away from the ground. "No!" she shouted, kicking and flailing her arms madly trying to escape.
"Take her back to the castle!" Hadrian commanded when he had returned with his guard and Orion. The guard gripped Hermione tightly, not giving her a chance to escape. "And keep her there!" he added, clutching at his bloodied shoulder. "Have him—removed" he ordered Orion, who was trembling from head to foot as he came forth.
Hermione screamed, scratching at the guard, demanding to be released. "NO! LET ME GO! DRACO! NO!"
"He's dead, Artemis," Hadrian roared, leaning against the carriage for support. "He's DEAD!"
"No! You're lying! I hate you! You're a liar!" she cried, still relentlessly struggling "DRACO! DRACO!"
"Hermione! Hermione!"
Then suddenly, the world blackened and she knew no more.
xXx
"Hold her down! Don't let her get away!"
"Stop! Stop!"
"Hermione!"
"Hermione!"
Her head ached with a blinding pain that ensnared her mind, warping her vision into a fusion of black and grey. She opened her mouth, but found she could make no sound. "Draco! Draco!" she wanted to scream. "Where are you?"
"Hermione!" the voice cried once more. "Hermione! It's me!"
Hermione stopped kicking immediately—that voice! She knew that voice—she knew it. Her body relaxed as she fell back onto the soft cotton sheets. A blackish liquid was now being forced into her mouth, chilling her throat as it slid down. Hermione coughed and sputtered sending the potion flying forwards. Blindly, she raised her arm to wipe her mouth and blinked several times finding the world was at long last coming back into focus.
"Prometheus!" she gasped, her voice sounded hoarse and her eyes were wide with confusion as she stared at the boy that stood directly above her.
The emerald eyed boy stared at her with a look of sheer confusion. "Hermione? It's me, Harry."
"What? No!—I—you—where am I?" Hermione sputtered trying to comprehend what had just happened.
"You're in Hogwarts," said Ron as he stepped up from behind Harry. "In the infirmary."
Her head pounded as she tried to sit up, "No—no—no—how?" she asked, squinting up at them.
"Professor Snape finally created an antidote," Harry explained.
Hermione blinked. "An antidote for what?"
"For Somnio Eternus—or rather a form of it. Don't you remember what happened, Hermione?" he asked in concern.
She shook her head slightly, her face cringing as she tried to remember what was going on.
"Neville, Neville Longbottom, you remember him. don't you?" Hermione nodded and Harry continued. "He somehow knocked into your potion and doused both you and Malfoy. You've been unconscious for the past few months, Hermione."
xXx
Sorry for the long wait, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It's funny how so many of you didn't get the Blaise part, but it was nothing all that important really. Just something I found interesting. And YES I'm extremely sorry for mixing up the names for the bands on the last chapter; but wow it's pretty wicked that so many people caught it! Soco/DBC rule!
Thanks CRAZY much to Aiur for being the awsomest beta reader ever. (check that, I made up a new word just to describe you!) You're a real prince, yanno?
Also, thanks much to Christine I think it was who recommended Fallout boy; love them loads. Also recommending to everyone who likes TBC Soco Brand New etc, Hit the Lights. Awesome band. Anyway, I should update…fairly soon then, review!
Songs: Hit the Lights: All or Nothing and Googoo Dolls: Iris (again, awesome songs. You should definitely download them.)
And last thing shameless advertising check out my newest story Fallen from Grace. Features our favourite couples Draco and Hermione along with…well, you can probably take a guess. Trying it give it a darker edge, but keeping them both in character (I hope). I would really love feedback on that story. So yes, check it out!
