Chapter 2
Disclaimer: See Prologue…
Hey, can any of you guess who it is? Come on…there have been hints since the first story…GUESS if you think you know.
"Professor…I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," Hermione said sheepishly.
"It's quite alright Ms. Granger. I'm glad you didn't fall and hurt yourself." He smiled softly at her and against her will, she felt her butterflies invade her stomach and returned the smile, although she knew that hers would not look nearly as believable as his. His hands were still wrapped around her arms and she realized that if she moved even a little bit closer to him, their lips would connect. Like in the dreams, her traitorous mind reminded her. If she couldn't even control her thoughts, how would she ever control her actions around this man? She could only go so long before she went mad or simply got over him. It was no surprise that she was hoping for the latter, but that did not seem to be a possibility.
"Thanks for keeping me upright Professor," she said, attempting lightness. His soft smile grew a little and the lines around his eyes crinkled. Why did he look so tired? If she reached out her right hand, she could touch those very lines with her very own fingers. Maybe then they would disappear and he would be younger, freer, like her again.
His hands released her hands and she stood up by herself now. "Good-bye Miss Granger," he said as he moved past her. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak and not ask him to stay. Slowly, as though her entire body cried out against it, she made her way down to the lake and spent the majority of the next few hours helping Ron and Harry with their essays for Potions.
The next day, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville made their way into the class together. She, Ron and Harry found a table together and Neville sat with a few Ravenclaws he seemed to know. A few minutes later, he entered the classroom.
"Class, today we will be studying the sister curse to the Imperius Curse, the Vitalus Curse. Now, who can tell me how it is different from the Imperius?" he asked, looking around the class before his eyes rested on her. She said nothing, instead pretending to write down what he said next. Of course she knew the answer, she had read the entire book during the summer. But she just didn't feel like speaking. After having stayed up most of the previous night because she just couldn't sleep with the dreams constantly bothering her, she was exhausted and the motivation that defined her was somewhat absent.
"All right then. The Vitalus Curse is different in two ways: first, it is not an Unforgivable Curse. The Ministry might reprimand you for it and send a warning, but…" Hermione's mind drifted off and she rested her head of her arms, left cheek against her arms, facing towards Ron. As her eyes closed, she began to dream again. But this it was different.
It was daylight, as she realized that she was sitting with her back against the Great Oak. The sun warmed her skin and she realized that she was wearing a dress again. But this dress was different. It wasn't the same white one she always wore. This one was made of soft cotton, not the silk the white one was made of. Also, this one was light yellow and had short lightly puffed sleeves. She looked like a young, happy girl in this dream. The atmosphere was different. She was no longer afraid to meet him. Instead, she was just a little nervous, but so happy that she would finally see him that she smiled to herself softly. Her hair was not her usual kind; it was braided down her back and fell near her waist. All in all, this dream was not like the other ones. But she knew he would come, could predict it from the feeling in her stomach.
"Hi," a voice said, panting from running. She looked up and saw his face. She couldn't help gasping a little. This was not the face of the man she knew now. There was no pain in it; instead, a twinkle in his eyes had replaced the wrinkles of worry around them, a smile had replaced his pained attempt at grinning, and soft cheeks had replaced gaunt ones. This was what he would've looked like if he had lived an easier life.
"Hi," she heard herself saying. He held out a hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her up. He was still as strong as before and when she stood up, she rested her hand against his chest. He was wearing Muggle clothes again, a short-sleeved shirt with khaki pants, looking rather relaxed. The cloth underneath her hand felt soft and wonderful and her smile grew.
"Hi," he whispered again as he kissed her cheek gently. He moved to kiss her other cheek when she turned her face so that her lips could find his own. They kissed, sweetly, happily, passionately. He pulled away from her and she pulled his collar back to her.
"Come back. I miss you already," she said with a small pout on her lips. He chuckled merrily and kissed her again. His right palm cupped her face while his left went around her waist. Her arms went around his neck and she smiled into the kiss. This was what she had always wanted, happiness, comfort, safety with him. She had wished that they could simply be together and happy. It was such a simple, childish wish.
This time she was the one that pulled back and together, holding hands, they walked towards the area that separated Hogsmeade from Hogwarts.
"Where are we going?" she asked, looking at his face. He said nothing, simply brought the hand holding his to his lips and dropped a kiss. She leaned towards him to kiss his cheek. They had just finished necking and they couldn't stop touching each other. This time, he moved his face so that her lips met his own. She pulled away, blushing as she noticed passer-bys looking at them knowingly with smiles.
"Come back. I miss you already," he said, imitating her pout. She swatted him, but his arm came around her waist. They continued walking until they were in front of a quaint little store.
"What is this place?" she asked. he said nothing, but with a smile, he took her hand and dragged her inside. The vision before her very eyes threatened to make her cry and she couldn't hold back the small gasp of surprise. Inside the store were the things she loved most in the world, books. Thousands and thousands of them lined every shelf and she walked forward, reaching up to get one. The History of Siren Rebellions by Rosie Milligan. The cover was old and worn, but she loved it all the same. She was near tears by this point and he seemed to understand because he came and put his arms around her waist from behind. She rested the back of her head against his chest and with a huge smile, opened the book. He went and found large chairs for them to sit in. But not wanting to be far from him, she shared one chair with him, sitting mostly on the chair except that her left leg was on top of his. They sat silently reading for a few minutes, until his hand idly brushed her neck and sent a shiver down her spine.
"Mmm," she almost purred from the touch. He caught the noise and without closing the book, leaned closer towards her and pressed his lips against the area where neck met shoulder. This time, she did indeed purr and put the book down. She had never been like this with anyone else. Men were new for her, but with him, there was no awkwardness, no discomfort, no shame. It was sweet and gentle. But every time he touched her, she couldn't help but react, turning towards him or moving closer or just kissing him. It was so annoying that she always seemed to want him. She turned her face and he kissed her, pulling her up onto his lap. Her arm went around his neck and she fiddled with his hair, running her finger through his soft black hair. He closed his eyes and sighed happily, kissing her neck. Content, she closed her eyes as well and rested her forehead against his own.
"Hermione! Hermione, come on. Wake up now!" She was being shaken awake and she clung more closely to him. "No!" she shouted in her dream. "Don't! Let me be!"
"Hermione, come on. We'll be late for Herbology. Come on!" Ron finally succeeded as her head came up and she looked around the room drowsily. Everyone else, including him, had left, except for Harry, Neville and Ron, who were waiting for her.
"I fell asleep?" she asked in a soft voice.
"No. Your eyes just happened to close and the world just happened to fade away. But I wouldn't call it sleep." Slowly, she rose to her feet and grabbed her belongings, heading towards the door.
"Ms. Granger," a voice called her back. She turned and watched as he stepped out of his familiar office.
"Professor," she said, turning around but not moving towards him.
"Can I just speak to you for a moment? Alone?" he asked, putting his hands together.
"Yes. You guys go ahead. Tell Professor Sprout I'm coming."
"Ms. Granger," he repeated as her friends left her behind. He closed the door so that only a crack remained and looked at her. "Are you all right? Lately, you haven't been volunteering information nearly as often. You only answer when called upon and today, you fell asleep. I wouldn't be lying if I said I was worried about. You're one of my brightest students and I just want to make sure everything's okay. Is it?"
"I'm fine Professor. Just tired," she lied to him. He nodded and rubbed his eyes.
"I can relate," he said with a wry smile. She smiled softly at him. "All right Ms. Granger. I will not hold this against you if you promise to be yourself next class. I must say I'd quite gotten used to you answering every question first. It was nice to have something to count on." He chuckled softly and she blushed a little.
"Thank you Professor." He nodded again.
"Well go on. If Professor Sprout asks anything, tell her that I kept you late. And Ms. Granger, smile a little. You look prettier when you do." He added the last bit softly, but she heard him anyways. With her blush growing, she made her way down to the Herbology lab, questions still on her mind.
Later that night, she sat in the library, working an essay. Not surprisingly, she had slept through dinner and although she was hungry, she felt better now that she had actually slept without any dreams tormenting her. She felt motivated again and once she had begun reading through the assignment, the old gleam was back. She wanted to do well on this essay. It was more important to her than a silly dream she had had. With another grumble coming from her stomach, she turned back to her paper about the common uses of the belladonna plant. Her hand flittered over the paper as small, perfectly organized words filled the page and the time went by quickly. Two hours later, she finally finished and yawned out loud, stretching to ease the discomfort caused by sitting still for so long. She looked up and realized that the library was empty, except for a chair near the window containing a single body. She recognized it as Terry Boot, a boy in her year, but one she had no classes with. Gathering her things, she rose and stretched once again, rubbing her eyes with a hand.
"Late night studying?" a voice said from behind her. It was Blaise Zabini, a boy from Slytherin that she often saw following Malfoy around the school. Why was he here at the library?
"Yes. I was just on my way to the dormitory," she informed him. "Well goodnight."
She turned away from him and moved towards the door, but before she could say anything, she felt a hand covering her mouth and one tightly wrapped around her waist. Someone moved behind her and then she saw Blaise standing in front of her.
"Were you going somewhere Mudblood? I hadn't realized that I had dismissed you. it isn't proper to disrespect your superiors, is it now?" He had a menacing grin and Hermione felt her heart speeding up. She knew Malfoy was mean-spirited, but it seemed that the pointy-faced prat was nothing compared to his friend.
Slowly, without attracting any attention, she moved her right hand slowly towards the pocket of her pants underneath her robes.
"I don't think so Granger. Expelliarmus." Hermione watched in horror as her wand flew out of her pocket and into his open palm. His evil smile grew and she realized that he was in control now. Fighting would be futile, since he had the wands. She had to do something. Without thinking it through, she bit the hand of the captor and when he released her from the surprise, she kicked Blaise and ran. It was closed! And she had forgotten to get her wand from him. No!
"HELP! HELP ANYONE! PLEASE!" She was screaming so loudly that her throat hurt, but she was screaming for…what. He couldn't very well kill her, but he could hurt her badly enough. "IS ANYONE THERE? HE--" Before she could finish, she felt strong arms once again around her waist and then a slap against her face.
"How dare you! How dare you kick me! I'll show you Mudblood." He shouted at her as he pulled her away from the door and threw her onto the floor. Hermione had to think….think, of something, anything. He stalked over to her and slapped her again. Now really, what need was there for that? she thought to herself.
He knelt down beside her and grabbed her arms with one hand, holding them tightly above her head. Before she could scream again, his other hand was inside of her robe and underneath her shirt. She could feel it against her stomach, stroking slowly. Now she had to act. She couldn't kick him, since he was sitting on top of her legs, his wrapped around her own. If she didn't move from here, she was going to be sick. Her wand…where was her wand? She looked around the room and found it lying near the door. She had to get out of here. He was going to do worst things to her than just have his way with her body. He couldn't be that kind. She looked up again to guess how far her wand was when she saw a face through the door holding her in the library. It was him! He had heard her scream and he was here. The look on his face was pure cold fury and he was silent. He held a finger above his lips, telling her to be quiet. She blinked, afraid that if she nodded Blaise would understand. Speaking of whom, his hand had traveled up her shirt to her bra. He was stroking the side of her breast and Hermione wanted to scream. She watched as the lock opened with a soft, muted click and the door opened just as quietly. Without a single word out loud, he pointed his wand at Blaise and in a second, the boy's arm slid out of her shirt and his weight left her legs.
Hermione was too shocked to move and sat very still for the next few minutes. The fear that she had kept in check while she thought up a plan fell upon her now, heavy and painful. He walked over to her, kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression was still angry as he conjured a length of rope and tied it around his arms and legs. Then he turned towards her and looked intently at her. She couldn't move. Her arms hung limply by her side now and she worried that if she attempted to stand up, her legs would not hold her.
"Ms. Granger," he said, his voice holding back some deep emotion. She nodded to show she had heard, unsure of what to say. "Ms. Granger. Hermione," he whispered. She looked up at him then, her eyes meeting his. He had never called her Hermione, never in real life.
"Professor," she croaked out. With that single word, all the emotion upheaval of what had just happened, the hunger, the exhaustion and the anxiety of being that close to him crashed against her. Slowly, a small tear fell from her right eye and she closed them, willing the feelings away. Another followed and then another. She found she couldn't stop, so she allowed them to fall. He silently let her cry for a few minutes and then, wanting to improve things, he spoke to her gently.
"Hermione, we're going to get you up to Madam Pomfrey. She can make sure everything's okay. She will probably make you stay the night and then leave in the morning. Can you stand?" he asked. She nodded and opened her eyes. His face was full of concern and sympathy for her. He held out his hand, and she took it, allowing him to pull her up. As she stood, she swayed a little and his arms reached out for her, holding her just as he had when she was about to fall. How many times had he stopped her from falling? He pointed his wand at Blaise's unconscious body and Hermione watched as it floated behind them. His arm was holding her up and he returned her wand to her.
"Thank you," she whispered. They continued walking until they reached the Infirmary. He led her to a bed and she sat down at the edge, letting her bag drop from her shoulder. He went to fetch Madam Pomfrey, who came out looking worried and very angry.
"Thank you Professor. If you hadn't found her in time, no one knows what might have happened. Tsk tsk…dangerous minds these boys have. Taking what isn't theirs." Madam Pomfrey returned into her office to make a potion for Hermione to drink and he looked at her for a moment.
"I'm going to take him to the Headmaster and see what Professor Dumbledore recommends. I am going to recommend he be expelled…but I cannot promise it Hermione. Will you be all right here?"
She nodded again and looked up at him. "Thank you," she repeated. He seemed unsure of what to do, because he took a step towards her, but stopped before taking another. He stood for a minute, not knowing whether to go forward or backward. After a few seconds, he turned on his heels and left.
"Dearie, there's a shower over there. There are clean pajamas there as well. I'm pretty sure you'd feel better if you washed, no?" Hermione nodded her reply and Madam Pomfrey handed her a small bar of soap, and two bottles, one shampoo and one conditioner. Wordlessly, Hermione went over to the small bathroom and turned on the lights, locking the door behind her. She removed her robes and her shirt and jeans she had worn underneath. She looked down at her stomach and saw bruises coloring it. Standing in front a mirror, she saw her face was still red and when she lifted a finger to it, it smarted. He hit hard, she thought to herself. She entered the shower stall and spent the next 15 minutes scrubbing herself clean. She didn't think she'd ever be clean enough. He had touched her and she couldn't scrub him away. Thankfully he had showed up in time. What would she have done if he hadn't come? The thought threatened to make the tears start again. You would've saved yourself. You were formulating a plan just as he came. You can survive without him, her conscience informed her. Yes, but I do not want to, her heart reminded her. After shampooing and conditioning her hair, she stepped into the soft flannel pajamas, which were two sizes too big for her. She combed her hair with the brush in her bag and lay down on the bed. Madam Pomfrey's draught was there and she drank it down. Before long, she fell asleep. That night, she slept without a dream.