Uber thanks to: Jessie, Mirlanthiriel, DarkRaven Haven (before i began writing this fic I watched the Crow...), faerydust824, seghen, Dragongirl81, PandylBas (very poetic), CuteBlndeGoddess (Blondes rule, I'm very glad you liked it! thanks so much!), Cheeze, Bex Drake, Afan, Isuelt24, Skizzerhandy (oohhh passionatly chaotic indeed, lovely wording. thank you ever so much, I'm glowing), SlythErin, Dragon Navi, Frog, Sami Sue (I'm on your wall of fame::uber grin, but really if thye made a law about everybody being dead staying dead we'd never have a problem with Zombies... And Malfoy is like that because I find nice people boring... mwhahaha), MistyQueen (I promise nothing), Roxxi05

AN:Dark and Difficult times lie ahead Hermione... the brief respite is over... time to face the cold and brutal truth...

Chapter Seventeen

Deprees

The slamming of doors awoke Hermione. Her door. Nott stormed in, threw something over her eyes and stormed out again. She removed the object, slowly rising her mind out of the dregs of sleep. Mercury was snoring beside her spread out like the bed hog she was. Only once her vision had brought into perspective the dark wood of the room did she turn to the paper which had been so rudely thrown onto her head.

Hogwarts Professor Murdered by Black Assassins

Professor McGonagall of Hogwarts, the respected replacement headteacher to Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, was horrifically murdered last night. The murder was committed by the murderous group Black Assassins who have so far murdered Ministry Official Terrence Moonkite and many Death Eaters. It is now safe to say that the warrant for arrest of this highly dangerous group is much more important.

The murder occurred last night between the hours of 1 and 2am and officials have already stated that the gruesome murder was conducted by this group as oppose to the You-Know-Who's forces. The last hours of enduring and agonising pain must have been unbearable to a witch who lead the Wizarding World in knowledge after her lifelong friend Albus Dumbledore felt victim to the dark. There is as yet no word on a replacement head of Hogwarts but the Ministry assure us the students are well protected by Aurors. Our thoughts are with students past and present at this time of great difficulty.

Hermione felt the sickness which had dogged her for the last few days rise up again, but she stomached it. But the tears she could not hold back. Little trials of tears fell down her face. And she let out a cry which would make the gods listen. And everything bad that had ever happened to her seemed a thousand times worse, and she no longer wanted it.

He had betrayed her. A Slytherin till the end. Betrayal and it tasted like blood. A copper, salty taste which stained her thoughts and worst her heart. And yet she could not believe it. It was not possible surely? Surely he would not do that? Not the way he looked at her. Not the nights they had shared. No, no, no.

But McGonagall. Hermione's favourite Professor, the best teacher. How could that pillar of the world be... she was going to live forever. She was untouchable. Except... She was dead. And she had died the worst death. Horrible, horrific and inhuman.

And then an unbidden picture rose to her eyes. The tall shrouded in mystery Draco Malfoy standing over her. And it was revenge. He had never said that the revenge was purely on the Dark Lord's side. He had never said... It was him. Hermione knew it. And perhaps this was what she deserved. Ron was right about Malfoy. And she had been a fool.

And she had led to a heroine's death. No a hero. Heroine is a person who falls for the hero. McGonagall stood alone against the tide of darkness and she was every part a hero. And Hermione had betrayed her. Oh what was this terrible ache? This pain? Why would it not double and leave her prone, immune on the bed so she could hurt people no more?

--

"I'm going." Hermione looked up to see Nott standing out in the hallway. She didn't want to know what she looked like, dried and fresh tears on her face, hair everywhere. And more water sprang to her eyes when she saw those eyes. Once pure chocolate to her, she could now see that he knew. He was looking at her as if she were a murderer. And she was. She was. He spoke again. "Don't go near the cliffs." He told her, his voice totally different from the warning he was giving. He spoke as Malfoy had when referring to her as a mudblood.

She supposed with him working for the Ministry that he might tell them about Malfoy. He was always smart and Hermione knew that he had figured out what was going on a long time ago. And was not surprised by this latest result. Why hadn't he warned her? Because you wouldn't have listened. Then she was an arrogant fool.

What was that?

Freedom, freedom, freedom. Soft little voices whispering to her. But surely it was the wind? Or the waves?

Play, play, play! Oh there it was again. They sounded like fun. Was it the snow faeries? But they hadn't spoken... but neither were these.

Ron's already here. And Minerva, and Albus. They are all here. Hermione smiled and stood up. Ron, she hadn't seen him in a while. Freedom, play, fun.

If there had been a mirror in Nott's staircase she would have seen an ethereal figure. Loose long brown hair, pale face, dark eyes, night-gown of white. But Hermione saw nothing. A deeper trance than that which a seer fades into Hermione only thought of the voices which called to her.

The front door banged as the hurling winds threw it shut behind her, but the latch did not stick. And it banged loudly, startling the ravens from the bare tree in the garden. Come to us, Come Come child, we've been apart too long. Yes, far too long.

To the cliffs, to the cliffs. Come to us, child, come. Come play, you can fly. Fly with us Hermione, fly. Fly, yes fly. They could fly. Fly forever, forever with us. Come to us Hermione, you've been away too long.

Yes, no no NO.

Hermione awoke to find herself standing atop the cliffs, closer than she felt comfortable with. She stumbled back surprised. Then she was cold, the wind whipping her gown, bitingly cold. And those voices, those sirens. She'd nearly. Oh Merlin, what, was she loosing her mind already?

Hermione ran back to the house, the hounds of hell on her feet. She shut the front door, and ran to the kitchen, then turned again unable to look at the cliffs which had nearly taken her life. "Drink this." Nott was standing in the kitchen, his face unbelievably pale and drawn. Hermione looked away then looked back, he was holding out hot chocolate by the smell. She took it and downed it. It scolded her mouth.

"Weren't you going to stop me?" Hermione asked quietly, unbelieving of his attitude. Unbelieving what she had nearly done.

"No." Nott said. "But I've never seen anyone get that far and stop." Hermione stopped drinking and looked up at him startled. He was looking at her, and then his face fell from Slytherin. His face changed to one of the greatest sorrow and compassion. Then he hugged her. And she hugged back. "I'm sorry I'm a bastard sometimes."

"I'm sorry you are too." Hermione muttered back, hiccuping.

"The cliffs. Some creatures, I don't know what, you can sometimes see them in the dark, as vague white shapes. They're a variation of Dementors I think. They feed on guilt. Call anyone who feels guilt to them. I ignore them most of the time. It makes the neighbourhood quiet though." Nott commented quietly. Hermione nodded grimly wondering what possessed anyone to live there. Was the view really worth the Deprees?

--

Dance was the freedom of the soul. The movement, the bodies, the blood, the sex. Draco Malfoy was dancing. In a Muggle club. They didn't dance like Magical people. They danced like they fucked. Some bird had pulled him in here and he'd been considering snapping her neck until he saw the way these people danced. Perhaps he had been wrong about Muggle species? No... Impossible. However... oh trial of thought gone with the pretty waitress.

The music was a little repetitive. But that was okay because the dancing wasn't. And the blokes who were here were damn ugly little fucks. So he was being mobbed. Not bad for a dead guy. In fact Draco thought he probably preferred death to life. Wait until old fartface half blood Riddle found that out. He'd regret so much.

It was impossible to keep one straight line of thought in the place. The music was too loud, too fast and in fact so were the girls. Perhaps a little more to drink of the alcohol?

--

In the morning Hermione awoke with a dead dove on her pillow. She screamed which brought a still melancholy but friendly Nott in, wand ready, trousers not. Luckily he made no comment on the dead bird and instead turned to go back to bed, shaking out his deep dark brown hair. She returned to the bird noticing a small letter tied around it's foot.

Hermione shook her head and opened the letter, already worried about who it was from.

Know about Snow Faeries?

She dropped the letter fast. Why had he sent her a dead dove? Was this yet more torture of her betrayal? Was he taunting her yet more? She decided to reply to him on the parchment which she assumed was magical.

Dear Mr Malfoy,

I, Hermione Granger, wish to have no further contact with you. I will look after Mercury Malfoy, whose surname I will correct to Granger. I will have no contact with a horrendous murderer and traitor. Leave me alone.

Hermione Granger

--

Dear Mrs Malfoy,

I, Draco Malfoy, wish to inform you, you have no choice in the matter. I will leave Mini Malfoy with you for the moment but any attempt to change her surname will result in her guardianship being turned over to a French boarding school until Hogwarts. You will have contact me. You have no choice. I will see you once your temper has cooled.

Avenging Angel

--

Hermione took the letter down to lunch. "Where's Mercury?" She asked quickly, hiding the now changed letter. Nott was drinking copious amounts of coffee. He looked up at her, examining her before returning to his coffee.

"She's out with Hector. In the forest. She'll be fine. I spent most of my childhood there." He looked up at her and poured her white coffee with sugar. "I've taken a week off work." He told her lightly. "Except for emergencies." He wasn't looking at her any more. Instead he was looking down at the Prophet which headline screamed of McGonagall's obituary. "So I'll keep an eye on you and those cliffs."

Hermione nodded wondering what story he had had to tell to get a week off during these times. "I would like to confide this to you." She showed him the parchment with Malfoy's letter on. Nott glanced at it.

"You'll have to read it too me, Hermione. It looks blank to me." He told her lightly. She doubted that is what he felt though. She sat next to him, his dark haired forearm brushing hers. It was more intuitive than she had ever given him credit for.

"It's from.. It says. 'Dear Hermione." She stopped and paused, suddenly embarrassed. "Uh, you know actually it's not that imp-"

"Read it." He told her, looking like he was reading the Prophet.

"Dear Hermione. I would like to inform you that we will.. be meeting. I will be leaving Mercury with you but any attempt to change her name will result in... It was a reply to my letter you see." She told him hurriedly.

"Hermione shut up and read the letter."

"me removing her from your custody. I will see you once your temper is cooled. Malfoy." She finished lightly.

"Would you like to read that to me again without the gaps and rewordings?" Nott asked wiping his hands on his jeans and standing up to prepare some sandwiches for lunch. Hermione did not reply. "I understand why you want me to know that Hermione. There were other reasons why I took the week off work." Her jaw dropped. Malfoy would not hurt her. Of that she was more than sure. "And he shall not have Mercury. Don't worry." He finished clasping her shoulder with his spare arm.

But one thing Hermione had already learnt in the last two days. In a matter of life and death there is only one hero you can rely on. Yourself.

--

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