Disclaimer: All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.
A.N. Okay guys. I've been doing some thinking for this story. And I've come to a conclusion. I figure after this chapter, there's going to be one more chapter left to write. And then it shall be finished. Don't look at me like that! Okay, okay, you can throw some rotten vegetables at me again. I know you're probably hating me at the moment for ending it so soon. Oh, um, for those of you who have reviewed saying that you've cried or come close to crying so far in the story, it might be wise to have a tissue or two handy. Thanks guys, for your support, and go read and review. Love you all!
Come What May
Chapter Sixteen
After watching Hermione struggle through two more extremely painful weeks, Draco decided enough was enough. He had yet to hear anything about his father being sent back to Azkaban, most likely because the Ministry idiots were still drawing their pay out of the Malfoy bank account, and he still had not read anything in the Daily Prophet about Nemesaris being caught. So he decided to have a friendly little chat with the Headmistress.
"Enter," came McGonagall's reply when Draco knocked on the Head's office door.
He walked in quietly and sat down in front of her desk.
"Mr. Malfoy. To what do I owe this visit?"
He merely looked at her. What a stupid question.
"Ah. You wish to discuss your father and Professor Nemesaris. I should have realized. Forgive me."
"Why have they not caught Nemesaris yet, Professor? How is it that she can just disappear off the face of the planet? She's a Death Eater for Merlin's sake! Surely we have spies placed to find out the Death Eaters' activities?"
She surveyed him over her spectacles. "Well, as I'm sure you've already figured out, your father is very influential in the Ministry, Draco."
He snorted derisively. "You mean he's just peddling away our money to keep himself out of prison and Nemesaris from being captured."
"That is precisely what I'm talking about. And even with the spies planted among Voldemort's followers, it is not enough. We have not been able to place any of the Order among them, so I'm afraid to say that it is the Ministry that is squandering precious time and money in order to find her. And as for your father, with his influence, there is no possible way that we are able to send him back to Azkaban, especially with no specific charge and specification."
Draco sighed. "This is a complete waste of time. There is no time left, Professor! Have you taken a good look at Hermione lately? She's wasting away to nothing! And there's not a thing I can do to help her anymore! I've tried everything. She's lost the will to live, and if she doesn't have the will, then I can't help her. And with my father out of prison, the curse placed on her is getting worse! She told me she thinks it's not just the Voice anymore, she thinks it's actually my father in her head!"
McGonagall sighed. "I know, Draco, I know. I've spoken with her. She's told me that you are her reason for living now."
"And I told her not to worry about me! I told her just to concentrate on getting better!"
Whether it was a trick of the light or something else, McGonagall's eyes suddenly looked watery. "There is nothing else we can do. I've had Remus Lupin researching left and right. But there is nothing. We have to resign ourselves to the fact that we are going to lose her."
"NO!"
Draco ran from the office, refusing to accept that this was indeed Hermione's fate. Unless some miracle happened soon, she was going to fade away.
He sprinted the whole way back to their common room, where she spent most of her days now. McGonagall had excused her from her lessons in an attempt to lessen the stress load on her.
She wasn't down in the common room itself, which meant she was either trying to sleep in her room or was in the bathroom.
He crept up the stairs quietly, just in case she was trying to sleep, and made his way to her door, which was partially shut.
"Hermione?" he called softly through the crack.
There was no answer. He opened the door slowly, in case it creaked.
Her bed was empty.
Now starting to panic slightly, he stood in the middle of her room, looking around for some sign that she had been there.
Out of nowhere, there was a horrible retching sound coming from the bathroom. He lunged for the door in one leap and yanked it open to find Hermione cowering on the floor with her head in the toilet.
He knelt down beside her and pulled her sweat soaked hair away from her greying face, whispering softly to her to reassure her that everything was all right because he was there.
She heaved what was left in her stomach from what little breakfast she did manage to eat that morning. Panting, she finally lifted her head from the toilet bowl and sat there on the floor, shaking like mad and soaked in a cold sweat.
Draco grabbed a wash cloth from the sink and wiped the sweat from her forehead and the sick from her mouth.
"What's wrong?"
"Another nightmare," she said with a shaky sigh.
Draco made the decision in a split second. He scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom and out of her room. She weighed practically nothing now.
"What are you doing?" she asked softly, having no real strength to protest.
"Taking you to the hospital wing. You can't stay here by yourself anymore."
She nodded her head against his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut again, despite the everlasting tirade going on inside her head.
It broke Draco's heart when she couldn't even find the strength to argue with him about staying on her own. It looked like the end was coming sooner than he imagined.
He ran into Ginny a for corridors away from the hospital wing. She looked positively alarmed to see Hermione so weak and frail, not able to really walk on her own.
"What's happened?" Ginny cried, her hands going to her face.
"Shhhh! Chill, Ginny. I've decided she can't stay by herself in the common room anymore. I came back from McGonagall's to find her in the bathroom heaving what little breakfast she ate this morning. Another nightmare, is what she said. I can't leave her by herself anymore. Something might happen, and I wouldn't be there."
Ginny reached out to brush Hermione's sweaty locks away from her face. She wanted to cry as she took in her appearance. Her cheeks were sunken and waxy looking, dark circles graced her eyes, and her face was as pale as death. Draco held her as if she were nothing.
"My poor Hermione," she whispered, following Draco to the hospital wing.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Draco called as he came through the door, which was held open by Ginny.
The nurse came bustling out of her office. "Good heavens! She's wasting away to nothing!"
She bustled them over to an empty bed and told Draco to lay her down. He pulled the covers over her thin body and stepped back to let the nurse assess her condition.
"She barely eats anymore, Madam. We try to get her to eat at every meal, but she just picks. She doesn't want to. . ." Ginny couldn't bear to finish her sentence.
The nurse looked down at Hermione with a sad expression. "She'll just have to stay here. I'll do what I can for her, but as I'm sure Professor McGonagall has told you-"
"There's nothing more we can do, yes, we know, thank you," Draco snapped, his emotions getting the better of him.
"She just can't stay on her own any longer," Ginny whispered tearfully.
The two left the hospital wing only after the nurse assured them that she would contact them if anything changed.
"I'll tell the boys what's happened. Shall we meet after dinner to go see her again?" Ginny asked.
Draco nodded, his throat too tight to speak.
They went their separate ways, too wrapped up in their own thoughts to bid each other good bye.
What was he to do? His life had a purpose these past couple months, keeping her from killing herself. But now that it was all failing, what did he have to live for anymore?
A rage unlike anything he had ever felt sudden consumed him. He wanted nothing better than to find his father and Nemesaris and kill them both. It was their fault that Hermione was like this now, it was their fault that his and Hermione's lives had been destroyed. They ruined their lives, and now, Draco was going to make them pay. He was going to kill them if it was the last thing he did.
It would be his last effort to make things right. For him, for Hermione, for her parents.
Hermione laid in her bed in the hospital wing, thinking. It was about the only thing she had energy for anymore; just sitting up in bed cost her most of the energy she had miraculously built back up in her nightmare-plagued sleep.
She thought back to this time last year. What was she doing this time last year? She was worrying about Harry and his eagerness to help Dumbledore find another Horcrux and destroy it. She was battling her feelings for Ron, watching in jealousy as he and Lavender Brown snogged relentlessly in the common room night after night. The three of them were working hard at their Apparition lessons. She and Ron were listening in awe as Harry would recount his previous "lesson" with Dumbledore and retell the stories of the boy that would grow up to be Voldemort.
'Voldemort,' she thought venomously. 'It all comes back to him. Because of him, Harry lost his parents, I lost my parents, and Draco grew up believing the only thing he was good for was carrying on the Malfoy name and following in his father's footsteps. He's the reason Dumbledore isn't here with us today, finding some cure for this stupid curse!'
She was feeling very bitter at the moment, thinking of everything she would have liked to accomplish in her life, and knowing that she would never get to do any of those things. Before things took a turn for the worse, she had began to imagine what life after Hogwarts would be like with Draco, as he was the only one who completed her, and would keep her sane.
There was nothing she could do anymore. The nightmares would make her sick to her stomach, the Voice kept up his constant tirade against her, and the sounds of Greyback shredding her parents would make her lose any food she had in her stomach. She could barely sleep at night because of the nightmares, and any energy she had left after laying in the bed day after day was quickly spent trying to ignore the damn noises in her head.
She could literally feel the life slowly ebbing from her body.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over to her. "How are you doing, dear?"
She glared up at the nurse. "Other than listening to my parents die over and over, I'm just fine, thank you."
The nurse actually smiled. That was the first angry outburst Hermione had in days. But she also knew that they got slightly better before things really took a turn for the worst.
"Are you hungry, dear?"
"Would you be hungry if you were listening to what I was hearing at the moment?"
The nurse clucked her tongue. "Let me know if there's anything you need. I'll be in my office."
"How about a gun? Or my wand? Then I wouldn't have to put up with this shit anymore!" she called at the nurse's retreating back.
Madam Pomfrey didn't look back.
Hermione sunk down further into her pillows, her little store of energy spent from her little outburst.
'I just want it to be over. Please God, just let it be over,' she silently begged.
March passed into April, and the grounds suddenly brightened and grew warm. The anticipation in the castle for those taking their exams soon was almost reaching a breaking point, but for the boys and Ginny, exams were the furthest things from their minds.
Hermione now weighed a mere eighty pounds, down from her original one hundred and thirty. She had given up eating all together and now slept more and more, the only thing she could really do. She could no longer stand up and support herself, as her muscles basically wasted away to nothing. She was becoming more and more delusional as well, the lack of deep sleep was taking its toll on her sanity. One minute she would be fine, and the next she would be screaming for her parents, or for Greyback to get away from her, or she would relive the night that Lucius got into her bedroom.
It was terrible for the four friends to sit there with her, listening to her scream and moan. They did their best to make her come back to the real world and make her realize that they were there with her so she wouldn't relive everything.
Professor McGonagall came in daily to check on her, and was often seen leaving the infirmary with tears in her eyes.
There were almost daily letters from Remus and Tonks, wanting to know the very latest developments with Hermione. They would take turns writing them back, but there really wasn't much to tell them, other than they were losing her.
There was still no sign of Nemesaris. Draco's father remained out of Azkaban due to his large bank account and overwhelming influence in the Ministry.
The four of them could barely sleep at night themselves, as old memories of the days before everything happened would plague them, or they would lie awake, worrying when morning came whether or not Hermione would still be there when they arrived at the infirmary.
They attended their classes as normal behavior would dictate, but they could barely focus. The three boys didn't care that their N.E.W.T.s were just around the corner. They didn't have the heart to bring themselves to study. They knew that in different circumstances Hermione would rarely be seen without her nose in a book or she would be taking up a near permanent residence in the library.
Draco sat in his Arithmancy class, staring at a page in his book, not taking in a word on it. They were supposed to be reading the review chapter at the back of their books in preparation for their exam. Instead of thinking of Arithmancy, he was thinking about every rotten thing he ever did to Hermione in the past. His overwhelming sense of guilt was threatening to engulf him, and every so often, he would reach up to brush at his eyes.
Professor Vector knew what was going on, and didn't bother to tell him off for his lack of competency at the moment.
The door to the classroom burst open, breaking Draco from his thoughts. A timid looking third year came running into the room, panting as she handed a bit of parchment over to the Professor. The little girl was dismissed with a wave of the Professor's hand, and her eyes widened as she read the note over quickly.
"Mr. Malfoy, you are requested in the hospital wing immediately."
Without hesitation, he grabbed his books and sprinted from the room. His breath was coming in ragged puffs of air, his brain was on fire, screaming at him, his guilt and intense sadness sitting on his chest like a massive hundred pound brick.
He flew into the infirmary and stopped short. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all standing around Hermione's bed, their tears flowing freely and without stopping.
Madam Pomfrey looked up at him, her tears threatening to overflow. "Come quickly, Draco, there isn't much time left."
He was unaware of releasing his hold on his bag. He sat in the chair next to her bed and took her hand. It was trembling.
"Draco," she whispered.
"I'm here," his voice cracked as he tried to hold back his tears.
"Just when I think everything is going to get better," she managed out, her breathing labored.
"Shhhh. Don't think about that," he quavered, brushing the hair back from her forehead.
"I'm so scared. I never thought it would all end like this."
A couple tears slipped out of his eyes. His lip trembled.
"But I'll be with my parents again," her voice was fading fast now.
"Hermione, don't go, please don't go," Draco pleaded.
Ginny let out a quivering sob while the boys sniffed and hiccuped behind him.
"We'll be together again, Draco, this isn't the end."
He was sobbing now. "Hermione, please, don't go! I love you! I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you, I love you so much it hurts! Please, don't go!"
Her eyelids fluttered. "Draco." Her grasp on his hand tightened. "I. . .love. . .you."
Her eyes drifted shut, and with a sigh, her hand went limp in his hold.
"No," he whispered, his tears running freely. "No, no, no! Hermione, no!"
He sank to his knees from the chair and let his head sink down to rest on the bed next to her. He gripped at his hair, his grief too much to bear. He felt Harry and Ron's hands on his shoulders, their grip almost painful in their own grief. Ginny sank into the chair Draco had just abandoned and was rocking back and forth, sobbing without restraint.
Hermione, once so strong and stubborn and full of pride, had finally been defeated.