Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting.
And I'm sure by the end of this chapter you all will be sighing, finally!
Draco hesitated, weighing the options.
He'd never ridden on the Knight Bus before. Surely he had heard of it, but his father had always provided more elegant means of transportation. He had no idea how to find the thing, and they were losing time. He could already feel the back of his shirt grow damp with Snape's blood.
"We don't have time for this," said Hermione impatiently, swishing her hair behind her in frustration. "Are there any other options?"
Draco sighed. Though he hated giving in to her, there really wasn't any other choice. "No." He turned to glare at her, "How do you find it?"
"We'll have to go outside. Come on."
Hermione started off towards the end of the hallway, dragging her injured leg behind her. Her walk was slow and ungraceful, but then again, so was Draco's, with his slowly dying professor slung over his shoulder. Every movement drew another spurt of blood onto his clothes. The sound of Snape's feet dragging on the floor followed him as he walked.
They neared the end of the hallway. Hermione leaned against the wall, taking slow breaths. Each one brought a little squeak of pain. Draco continued down a side hallway. "It's not much further now," he beckoned to her, "Only a couple more hallways and a flight of stairs."
Hermione looked up at him incredulously, but continued on, following his lead.
They passed the next two hallways in silence, contemplating what had just happened.
Hermione's thoughts lingered on the curse she had just uttered. She still wasn't sure what had really happened, or why the curse had lasted so long after she had cast it. She figured that it had something to do with the fact that it was Draco's wand, and not hers. She hoped she hadn't left any real damage, but she feared what the ministry would do to her.
If the ministry tracked the curse, they would surely find out that it was she who had cast it, and she would be banned from the wizarding world for sure. She wasn't sure if she could be sent to Azkaban; she technically wasn't 18 yet, and therefore not a legal adult. However, Harry had still been tried before a full court. If he had been for such a minor crime as practicing underage magic outside of Hogwarts, then she definitely would be, for casting an Unforgivable.
Draco's thoughts focused on his future as well. He knew he would never be able to come back home, not after what had just occurred. His father had thought that he had decided to join the Death Eaters, but instead found that Draco had betrayed his trust. He felt his mother would be slightly more understanding, but Draco know she really followed his father. If his father kicked him out, then Draco had nowhere to turn. He would have to rely on Dumbledore, and he really had little faith in the man. At least, his father thought him to be a waste as a headmaster.
As they came to the staircase, Hermione helped Draco carry the unconscious professor down the stairs. It was an uncomfortable task, firstly because he was difficult to carry, and secondly, he was a professor. It was bad enough for Hermione, who had heard of all the horrible things that he had said to Harry. And, of course, had all of his past incidents of malice towards her to go by. He wasn't exactly the easiest man to know or care for. Or to care about. Hermione found her uncharacteristic worry startling. Sure, she worried about Harry and Ron. She always had; it was innate with them, especially with the way they always got into trouble. But here, it was a different kind of worry. It pressed more on her heart, weighed more heavily on her shoulders. Not only was Snape completely and utterly dependent on her in all respects, but so were Draco, Dumbledore, her head of house, and Harry and Ron. They all expected her to return to Hogwarts in one piece. At this point, she wasn't so sure they would.
They managed to make it to an exit door. Suddenly they were all standing shivering outside, in the cold, in the snow. Hermione had almost forgotten it was December. She hadn't seen the outdoors in… well, she really didn't know how long. They were all without their winter cloaks. Snape wouldn't be able to handle long exposure to such harsh conditions; he was barely stable as it was.
"Hold out your wand."
"What?" Draco sneered.
"Just hold out your god-forsaken wand, you prick." Hermione's temper was steadily wearing thin. All of the pressure, the pain, and the severity of it all pulled down on her; she feared, any minute, she would simply break down into tears.
Slowly, albeit unsurely, Draco did as he was told.
A flash of light blinded them momentarily as they were pushed backwards by the shear force of the bus. Draco practically fell over with Snape's added weight. Hermione helped him become steady again as a young, tall, straggly teenager poked his head out of the door of the Knight Bus.
He began what seemed like an introduction, but then stopped suddenly, mid-sentence. "What 'cho carrying that bloke 'round fo'?" he asked, brows furrowed in deep concentration.
Hermione at first thought to explain, then reasoned against it. "He's in need of medical attention. Can you take us to Hogwarts?"
"You gots enough to pay fo' bus fare?"
Hermione's heart fell to her shoes. She hadn't even thought of paying for the ride. She just managed to barely start uttering incomprehensible syllables of nonsense when Draco grunted besides her and pushed his way up the stairs.
"We really don't have time for this. The man is bleeding to death, for Merlin's sake. Just get us to the castle, or I'll be holding you responsible his death! I can barely feel his pulse as we speak. Drive!"
Hermione was surprised with the way he took command of the situation. She followed him numbly up the steps, taking a seat behind the driver. Draco took his burden and placed him on the seat besides her. She pulled him into something of a cradle as the confused bus boy observed the blood smearing on the back of the seat. Only an older witch sat in the back, eyeing them with distain.
"Alright, Ern, better just take em', before they dirty all them seats."
The bus suddenly started forward, and completely without warning shot off like a bullet. Hermione lurched towards the seat in front of her, feeling Draco hit the back of her seat with a thud and a curse. An array of buildings, foliage, and light flowed past the window, but Hermione had trouble focusing on any of it. She could feel what was left of her last meal begin to gurgle in her stomach. Nausea swept over her in waves, though the rocking motion was somewhat relaxing and calming.
She could feel Draco's hand form a firm grip on the back of the seat behind her head. His body seemed to swerve from side to side with the motion of the ricocheting bus. Snape simply sagged against her, his forehead coming to rest along her jaw, his nose pressing into her neck. She could tell he had lost a lot of blood, but she could still feel his chest rise under her touch.
They stopped as suddenly as they had taken off. Hermione smashed headfirst into the seat in front of her; Draco, who had taken to standing for the entire five-minute bus ride, was flung over her seat and virtually crushed her. He scrambled off of her and pulled his robes straight, a sneer of repugnance hiding his embarrassment. Hermione tugged Snape's limp form to her and awkwardly cradled the tall man against her. Blood glimmered on her hands; she didn't care.
"Ho'warts, to yer right!"
Draco cleared his throat. "Thank you," he managed to mutter. Hermione followed him dutifully out of the bus, trying to keep Snape aloft in her arms. She stumbled down the steps, catching her feet on her cloak. Draco, eyes wide with shock, managed to grab hold of her before her knees gave out.
"Watch yourself," Draco spat.
Quickly she righted herself, though stumbling throughout the process. She had noticed through the short ride that all the adrenaline that had kept her awake for the past few hours was slowly waning. She could feel her muscles begin to protest every move she made. She had trouble focusing, and her brain could hardly process simple information. Really, the amount of stress that she had just been through hadn't even begun to register in her mind. Draco had dark circles of purple under his eyes, and it contrasted deeply with his pale complexion. She could tell he was exhausted, even if he hadn't told her; she could simply feel it.
The doors of the bus slid shut. The bus sped away, but not before Hermione caught sight of the busboy staring at them from the back window.
Draco walked up to the towering gates, his eyes sweeping their height. He drew a deep breath; she could tell he was slowly exhausting what little energy he had left.
"How do we get in? I highly doubt it's as simple as just knocking."
"I have no idea." She shifted Snape, using her hip to alleviate some of his weight off of her arms. "Try something."
And try he did. He racked his brain for every spell he had learned in DADA, but nothing worked in the slightest.
"Any more suggestions, genius?"
"We could shrink ourselves to the size of ants and walk underneath. It worked in Honey I Shrunk the Kids."
"Your sarcasm is out of bounds at the current moment, Ms. Granger."
"Well, why am I always the one to be the brains of the operation?"
"Because that's all your good for, you twit!"
Hermione glared at him. "I really don't know what to suggest."
After a few moments of pacing, Draco's eyes suddenly lit up. "What if we send up sparks?"
Hermione rolled her eyes to the heavens, 'tsk'ing again. "A fire isn't going to do anything, Draco."
He shook his head and sighed at her misunderstanding. "No, sparks. Like the ones they used at the Triwizard Tournament. Something high enough, bright enough to attract attention. Do you think someone would see them from the castle?"
Hermione actually allowed herself to smile.
"Do it."
"Checkmate."
Harry threw himself against the back of his chair. "Fine."
Ron crinkled his nose, whisking his pieces into the
starting position once again with a swish of his wand. "Don't get cranky with me, man."
"I'm not cranky."
Ron gave him a dubious glance. "You're practically like Ginny is at 'that time of the month'." He emphasized his point with little quotation mark finger gestures.
"Oh, so now I'm a girl with PMS?"
"I'd say that's the closest metaphor."
Harry 'hmphed', turning his back to his chess partner as he wandered to the window. "Thanks, mate."
"Well, think about it logically." Ron joined him, plopping himself on one of the red pillows of the window seat. "You snap at everyone-"
"I do not!"
"Do you want me to list all the people you've bitten the heads off of today?" Ron began ticking them off with his fingers. "Ginny, Seamus, Dean, Neville…" he paused for a moment, pretending to collect his thoughts. "Professor Flitwick, Filch, Peeves, for Merlin's sake-"
"All right, all right, you bloody idiot. I get the point."
"You eat all the junk food you can find, but you don't touch anything at meal times-"
"What's wrong with that?" Harry asked, his voice rising with all the accusations put against him.
"Harry, even I can't go through that many bags of Bertie Bott's Beans in one sitting."
Another 'hmph'.
"You go through emotional circles all day: one minute you're depressed, the next you're having a fit of hysterical giggles, the next, you're homicidal-"
"Name one instance where I tried to kill someone."
"You almost kicked Filch's cat down a flight of stairs."
"Animals don't count." Ron just glared at him.
"You never sleep anymore, you just toss and turn all night. And don't tell me I'm wrong," Ron automatically cut in, holding up a finger to silence Harry's protests. "I see you. You keep me up all night, tossing and turning. You know your bed is the creakiest in the whole dorm."
"Look, I'll go sleep in the common room if you have problems with my sleeping patterns-" started Harry irritably, tired of Ron's diatribe against him.
Ron sighed, looking uncomfortable. "What I'm trying to say, mate, is that I'm worried about you."
"You have a funny way of showing it."
"Look, don't get your panties in a twist." He sighed deeply. "I'm just saying, you ever need to talk it out, play some Quidditch, hit something," Ron ran an embarrassed hand through his hair, "I'll understand, all right?"
Harry allowed his shoulders to sag in defeat. He could feel his eyes prickle with emotion; it wasn't every day he and Ron had to talk about stuff like this. Circe, the things Hermione did to them.
"Thanks, man."
"You forget, I miss her, too."
Harry leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "I haven't forgotten."
"What the-"
"Huh?" Harry followed Ron's gaze out over the grounds. A shower of red cinders illuminated the sky, reflecting in the drops of melted snow clinging to the window. The silhouette of the gates stood out in sharp contrast against the crimson of the wave of sparks.
Ron was already out the door of the common room when Harry finally came to his senses. He tugged on his winter cloak and threw on some slippers.
"Wait, I'm coming, too!"
Draco let up another shower of sparks.
"Enough already, Draco."
He turned his head just enough to allow his gaze of anger to settle on her. He almost sneered, but caught himself. What could possibly be gained by fighting now, of all times?
He took a seat next to her on the ground, sitting closer than usual in an effort to share body heat. He could feel her shiver, the material of her cloak obviously not meant for winter's harsher months. He drew up a knee and leaned against it, staring out in front of him. "It's impossible that everyone left the school for the holidays."
Hermione coughed next to him and hugged Snape even closer to her. Whether it was for Snape's benefit or her own, he wasn't sure. She nestled her chin in his matted locks, and Draco was sure it was done unconsciously. Closing her eyes, he could tell she was cold as all hell. "I don't know about you, but I have no idea what time it is. It could be three in the morning, for all we know. It's obviously late."
"What about some noise? Do you think that will work?"
"I think we should just accept that there's nothing we can do."
Draco was speechless. "You really expect me to believe that you just said that?"
The tears came. "Draco, I'm just so tired of thinking. I'm tired of running, of trying to wiggle out of all the problems we seem to keep getting into. We've gotten this far, it figures that we would die on Hogwart's doorstep."
He fell before her, taking hold of her shoulders and giving her a hard shake. "I won't take that kind of talk from you, Hermione Granger. You may be a 'dirty mudblood', but I'd expect more from you in the intellectual department."
She started sobbing. "Draco, I don't think he's going to make it…"
For the first time, Draco was forced to take a good look at Snape. From the way he looked on the outside, Draco was sure he shouldn't have made it this far. His raven hair was matted and dirty, and hung clumps dried with blood, framing his face. His skin was pale, even for Snape, and Draco could barely tell he was breathing.
"Hermione-"
He tried to comfort her, but she seemed beyond help. He felt that there was very little he could do, anyway; they were enemies, and they both knew that. Sure, they had grown closer in the past five days or so, but he was sure it would revert as soon as they started classes once more. There was no way to remedy the great rift between the haves and the have-nots; the 'purebloods' and the 'mudbloods'.
He could tell she was slowly fading. She struggled to remain conscious; her eyes fluttered shut for a few moments before she shuddered awake, but her body was obviously exhausted. She had taken a good amount of damage fighting off his father's cohorts. He wasn't sure what kinds of injuries she had sustained beyond her injured foot. He was sure she wouldn't hold out much longer.
"Look, Hermione." He forced her to look at him. "We may have just experienced the seven levels of hell. It was hard to get through; we didn't have Vergil to guide us-"
"I didn't know you read Dante," she whispered, and he realized that she was actually paying attention.
"Stop interrupting, just listen. I know we're not lovers, friends, or even really acquaintances, but I have to say that I believe we have found a mutual respect. And I'm not asking you to like me, or even really trust me, but at least believe me now, when I say we're going to make it into Hogwarts alive. Do you hear me?"
Her lip began to quiver, but she managed to nod in response.
"Who's there?"
Draco and Hermione both jumped at the sudden shout. The voice echoed from somewhere inside the gates; they couldn't see much, with the darkness and the snow flurries that created something of a fog. Hermione reached out and grabbed Draco's sleeve, though whether it was out of hope or fear, he wasn't sure.
"Answer me! We're fully armed!"
"Help, please! We're students!" Hermione tried to yell, but her voice was mostly shot. She could only manage a hoarse whine.
There was a long pause. A light slowly began to shimmer a few yards away. It seemed like an orb simply danced through the air, but Draco was sure it was a lumos spell. He couldn't really make out the figures yet, but he hoped they weren't as menacing as they seemed to him now. He knew they wouldn't harm students; at least, not when they were inside the halls of the school.
"We're students!" he cried in a mimic of Hermione, grasping the bars of the gate. His hands immediately felt the freezing cold of the metal. "Please, we need a medi-witch! Fetch Madame Pomfrey!"
"Draco?"
Someone had called out his name from the distance, but he couldn't place the voice. Hermione was leaning against his leg, slowly losing consciousness. "Harry?" she whispered, recognizing the voice at once.
Draco felt his blood boil at the thought. His mortal enemy was to be his savior. "Potter, you bloody prick, is that you?" he yelled.
"Yup, it's him, professor," he heard the same person say through heavy breaths, as if he were running. He could tell they were quickly getting closer. The bouncing ball of light suddenly was connected to a wand, and Draco could make out a violet set of robes and a tall hat. Dumbledore.
Draco fell to his knees, shaking Hermione out of her exhausted stupor. "Hermione," he felt her shiver, "Damn, I shouldn't have let you fall asleep. Granger!"
Her eyelids began to flutter.
"Pick up Snape and look alive, they're here."
He slipped his arms under hers from behind and lifted her to her feet. She remained clutching Snape to her. She had trouble finding her equilibrium, and stumbled backwards against him. "I can't-"
"Don't give me that, you have to-"
"Draco!" Another phantom voice called out to him, "Who is with you?" It seemed much older, wiser. It must have been Dumbledore.
He cradled Hermione against him as she went limp. "No, no, no, you don't," he chided, holding her out in front of him like a rag doll. "Wake up!" He was able to make her stand this time. He called over her shoulder. "Professor, I have Hermione and Snape with me. Please hurry, they're both in bad shape!"
He could see the shimmering reflections of light in both Dumbledore and Harry's glasses; the tall gangly teen that followed behind them, Draco figured, was Ron. He finally noticed a figure, thin, tall, and walking briskly; he suspected McGonagall.
"Please, hurry!"
Dumbledore reached them first; Draco was surprised to see new lines of worry etched deeply into his face. He cast a tricky spell, and with a lot of wand waving, the huge gate began to creak open. Draco was forced pull Hermione, heavily laden with Snape, away from the heavy creations of metal.
McGonagall followed Harry and Ron to the scene. She stopped abruptly and immediately reached out a hand to Dumbledore, placing it on his arm tenderly in a sign of disbelief. "Oh, Albus," she sighed, her eyes trailing over Draco and Hermione, and as she noticed Snape all the color drained from her face. "Severus-"
She rushed to Hermione and took him from her. Hermione seemed reluctant to release her burden to another, like a mother loosing her child to the world. She refused to let go of his cloak; Dumbledore was forced to come and pry her worn, bloody fingers from the dirty, torn material.
"Let him go, child. He's in good hands."
Hermione could only let out a whimper, and as she found herself empty handed for the first time in five days, she felt helpless. She fell to her knees before Dumbledore, but he managed to catch her. Even in his old age, he kept her from hitting the ground and swept the broken child into his arms. She succumbed to unconsciousness in his protective hold.
"Boys, back to the castle. Alert Madame Pomfrey."
Harry and Ron obeyed, but not before glancing back at Hermione one last time. They, two, were pale as ermine, and seemed jumpy and tense. They scampered away, sprinting at full speed towards the school.
Draco stood numbly, unsure of what to do now that he was being taken care of. For the first time in days, he didn't have to think about his next move, or how to stay out of the line of fire. He didn't know how to relax, but he was sure he would be put to sleep nicely under Pomfrey's care.
He fell in step with Dumbledore, who followed McGonagall up to the steps of the castle. Dumbledore seemed tired, though alert and stern. He cradled Hermione with such care and love; Draco could have mistaken her for Dumbledore's own child.
Dumbledore sighed, and Draco glanced towards him. He could just barely make out the rims of his glasses in the clouds of snow, but he could feel his powerful presence.
"You couldn't possibly comprehend how thankful we are to have you three back alive, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco felt all the weight lift from his shoulders.
We're back.
"Thank you for seeing that they returned home, Draco."
We're home, Draco thought with inordinate pleasure. Merlin, we're home.
Well, I think that was a pretty long chapter; at least, for me.
I'd like to apologize (that seems to be all I do nowadays!) for
1) Poor grammar
2) Poor spelling
3) Poor sentence structure
4) Taking so freakin' long to get this out.
Every time I put out a chapter, I think, "Hey, now I've got some time in between chapters. I can take a little while." But that little while turns into months, and I end up forgetting about this story, leaving everyone hanging. I don't do it intentionally. But then I read all of your wonderful reviews, and I realize that there are people who are waiting for me to finish. And to all of you, I'm sorry! I'll try and keep going.
I also realized that there are many problems with this story. First, I can pick out so many grammar mistakes. There are also, I feel, some inconsistencies within the story itself. I started this story when I was about 14 or 15… therefore, the beginning chapters are very childish, while some of the later chapters may seem more mature (I hope :P) I'm also sort of letting this story walk on its own… I'm not really sure where it's going to end up. Anyway, I plan to go back and rework this story; once it's finished, that is. I don't want to leave people hanging. Just realize that I understand some of it doesn't work, and some of it needs changing. I'll get around to it.
Again, thanks for putting up with me. I hope this chapter agrees with you, and that you're still enjoying this story.
R&R if you're still out there.