IF YOU WISH TO KILL YOURSELF, THEN YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO DO IT WITHOUT ME

when did you stop from crying / why did you stop on feeling / when did you cease on living / why do you feel like dying -- "child"

~*~*~*~

CHAPTER THREE: Chronicles of Forgotten

A giant aged fabric covered the entirety of one of the walls of the room. The Order of the Phoenix that Apparated half an hour ago in Privet Drive were all back in their new headquarters after hauling with them the reluctant youngsters who were gathered in Number Four. Hermione surveyed the fabric as she watched little dots scampering around the surface. The material was a map. It was like a gigantic version of the Marauders Map that Harry had shown her a few years back. But instead of Hogwarts, this map showed the entire United Kingdom – every alley, every building, every house, every floor, every room – except for blank spaces here and there which explained how the Death Eaters disappeared. A high probability was that they entered one of those blank spaces – the Unplottable areas.

"Why are there Unplottable areas?" she found herself asking no one in particular.

"Those areas are heavily guarded by the minions of Voldemort," replied the tall, bald black wizard in a deep slow voice, Kingsley Shacklebolt, standing beside Hermione. "We cannot survey the area enough to be able to put them on the map."

"If you know where the Death Eaters are concentrated, why are there still legions of them walking around free?" an impatient voice resonated in the air. Hermione and Kingsley turned around to see Harry, breathing heavily as if trying to hold himself from doing something severely stupid.

Hermione was about to say something when another person cleared his throat. It was Remus. "We cannot just attack blindly without studying them first, Harry," he said, nearing Harry, who by now was staring viciously at the map.

"I still don't understand it," Harry muttered under his breath; determined to not accept Remus' explanation.

On the other hand, Hermione was, herself, busy studying the map very closely as if looking for something. "What?" she said.

"What?" Harry looked at her curiously.

"Nothing I just thought…" she dismissed whatever it was and continued surveying the map closely.

"Granger."

"What?" Hermione answered again. This time, she looked at Remus knowing for sure that the voice came from that direction.

But Remus, like Harry, looked at her curiously and said, "What is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing."

"Hermione."

She looked at Kingsley, who, by now, was already watching her carefully. She shook her head again even before Kingsley could ask her what was going on. It was nothing. Just your imagination, she thought, going back to the map. Perhaps with the voices in her head, she became disoriented so forced herself to concentrate on any point on the map – but ended up undecided on which point exactly. By then, her nose was only a few inches from the fabric when she noticed that several dots had started disappearing instantly one after another.

"Granger."

"They're disappearing," Hermione said, in a great effort to ignore the voice that kept calling her name; she almost sounded breathless like she was going to faint. "Are those Death Eaters?"

"Where?" Harry was first to go where she was standing; followed by Remus and Kingsley.

"Hermione."

"Granger!"

Hermione flinched and covered her ears. Stop it.

"Granger!"

Stop it.

"No," Kingsley replied to Hermione's question. "Those are members of the Order. They're not supposed to just leave their posts like that."

"They're going off the map," Harry said, putting his finger on one after another vanished dot. "Where are they going?"

"They're being summoned," Remus concluded; his eyebrows furrowed.

"Summoned?" Harry called out to Remus and Kingsley who were about to go out the room so to alert the others.

"They're being forcibly called into another place," Remus replied. "And because they're disappearing from the map –"

"It just makes sense that they're being summoned into Unplottable areas… by Voldemort," Harry concluded, taking a step forward towards the two Order members.

Remus raised a hand to stop Harry. "Harry, you –"

"I'm not staying here!"

"HERMIONE GRANGER!"

"What?!" A strong sudden silence hung in the air and Hermione realised what she had just done. She looked up and found the only other people in the room staring at her in surprise. Then, in an imminent event once she acknowledged the voices… flashes of events soared in her mind like daggers piercing their way through her consciousness.

A weeping figure lying on the ground. Curled up like a baby in a mother's womb. "Make it stop… make it stop…" he muttered over and over again – his hands on his face in surrender to his forsakenness.

Hermione watched him and felt his agony; but amidst the sympathy she was feeling, she said, "You can't just make it stop. Guilt doesn't go away with magic. Your conscience doesn't rest even if you've forgotten what you've done. Because it's part of who you are."

He fell quiet for a moment and knelt in front of Hermione, clutching her arms with both his hands. "Why? Maybe you're the answer. Maybe that's why you're here. You'll end it for me," he said as his fingers travelled to where Hermione was clutching a dagger in her hand. "Kill me. End it for me."

"What?!" she exclaimed, as she untangled herself from him; and stood up. "That's not how it's supposed to be and you know it."

The weeping figure then stood up. This probably was not a very good idea for Hermione because he towered her like an ominous statue. "And you claim you know what's supposed to happen, Granger?" he said, a sudden shift of mood reflected in his voice.

"No one's going to die tonight, Malfoy."

"Draco?" Hermione's eyes opened in surprise; oblivious to everything else around her. Draco? Was it really Draco?

"What?" a voice interrupted the re-founded silence of her mind. She looked around and saw Harry. And Kingsley, and Remus, and half of the people in the headquarters – all looking at her lying on the floor.

"Malfoy?" Ron's voice echoed within the room. "Why are you suddenly calling out Malfoy's name?"

Harry cleared his throat and put a friendly hand on Ron's shoulder. "Take it easy," he said, knowing that Ron wasn't very happy that the first name Hermione called out after coming out of a trance was… Draco. "She's in shock."

But Ron escaped from Harry and quickly flashed his middle and index fingers across Hermione's eyes. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Hermione groaned and waved Ron's hand away. "Ron!"

"You're not in shock!"

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Ron away. "Ron, c'mon."

"I think it's best that the kids go back to their homes." It was now Remus who was speaking.

"No," Hermione protested at once, as she struggled to get up from the floor. "You can't send us all back. You need more people. Now that Voldemort has been summoning your members."

"Ms Granger," a commanding voice so familiar spoke up just when Hermione finally got on her feet and met eye to eye with – Professor McGonagall. "We can't send you all there untrained. You realise that those that have been taken by Voldemort just a while ago are highly skilled Aurors themselves and yet they're still in danger, aren't they?"

"But –"

"We're sending you all home," Remus interrupted with a tone of finality. "You must realise that there are people waiting for you? Family?" Hermione opened her mouth to say something but realised in the end that Remus was right. Her mother and father were probably waiting for her. "And you would want to be there, Hermione. Especially at times like these."

"But I'm staying," Harry said from behind Remus. "No one's waiting for me at Privet Drive, as you know. And they're safer without me there."

Remus watched Harry for a while – contemplating on this decision. Then, he looked past Harry towards McGonagall, whose opinion he respected.

"Fine. You can stay," McGonagall answered. "And so are the Weasleys since both their parents are here. But everyone else is to go back home."

* * * * *

Draco sneered. "This is so typical of you. Always the righteous one. Hasn't it gotten you in enough trouble, Granger?"

"Hermione?"

Hermione glared at him venomously. "I'm not a murderer, Malfoy. If you wish to kill yourself, then you're going to have to do it without me," she said, waving the dagger in her hand. She watched him closely, trying to decipher his next move. She had learned it now; he was starting to seem unstable – one minute weeping, the other minute acting like it never happened. In entirety, however, she knew he was desperate.

"Granger?"

And when Draco seemed to calm down, Hermione felt her breathing going steady. She put her dagger-waving hand down, not realising until then that she had it raised. Then in a low voice, she muttered, "Why do you want to be saved, Malfoy?"

"Hermione."

She looked in his eyes, as if they would tell her something more than cold-hearted emotions. "It's not like you killed people – have you?!" she demanded with wide eyes when Draco remained silent and hesitant yet blank at the same time.

But Draco only remained staring at her blankly before he turned away and made his way towards the door. "It's of no concern to you," he said before he closed the door behind him.

"Granger."

And just like before, a wind swirled and Hermione materialised in front of him. She was ready this time, for she didn't reappear looking perplexed around her. She found Draco scowling, apparently disappointed that he couldn't escape her still. It was Hermione's turn to sneer. "And I thought, though being an insufferable jerk, that you're a fast learner, Malfoy," she said. Yet Draco ignored her and proceeded leaving the room.

"Hermione Granger!" Draco muttered in surprise as he found himself sitting on the floor. There it was. The visions. It all became so clear. And then he knew where he heard that voice before.

He gasped in surprise realising that Voldemort was patiently standing across the room – watching him, studying him – with a curious smile on that snake-like face. Draco paused and for a while he couldn't move. Then, suddenly remembering, he tried to close his mind in an instant to block out any trespassers into his consciousness. Yet, he felt that it could be too late for he remained unguarded during those visions…

"Granger!" Voldemort blurted. And with a laugh, he spoke, "Why do you preoccupy yourself so much with your favourite Mudblood, Draco?" as he paced around nearing Malfoy. He surveyed Draco who only reciprocated him with a strongly guarded confused look. With this, he bent on his knees to examine the young man more closely. "You were muttering her name as you moaned in pain. They're trying to get to you, Draco?"

Draco looked away from Voldemort's eyes. "N-no," he struggled and proceeded to pick himself up from the floor. "No. They're not. No one's trying to get to me." He looked and examined Voldemort to see if he sounded believable enough but no one could decipher that expression correctly.

Voldemort stood up quietly, seemingly satisfied with Draco's response. Yet, he was Voldemort. And Draco had read him wrong. "HERMIONE GRANGER!" he shouted out to the windows as if giving out orders to his waiting Death Eaters. Then, he turned back to Draco and, in an almost inaudible hiss, said, "Dumbledore was difficult but you've proven yourself of worth. A filthy little Mudblood girl will hold no challenge."

* * * * *

"Why won't you just tell me what happened?"

"Because there's nothing to tell."

"Yeah? Well you looked like you were having a nightmare. And you weren't even asleep. Harry told me."

"Ron," Hermione turned about and sighed in exasperation.

"And what's Malfoy got to do with it?"

"Ron."

"He's an enemy, Hermione. I just hope you don't forget that –"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed once and for all. "I know Malfoy's an enemy. I know that."

"But –"

"Ron," a voice came up from behind them. It was Remus. "I think stress just got to Hermione more than you," he said calmly, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder. Then, he turned back to Hermione and said, "Time to go home. C'mon," as he guided her towards the door where the other Aurors were also getting ready to escort the others who were to go back to their houses.

"W-why can't she just stay?" Ron called out as Hermione and Remus were about to step out. "I mean, we can Apparate her parents out here instead…"

Hermione smiled and chuckled. "Ron… I'll be back tomorrow," she said reassuringly before finally stepping out into the street.

Both Remus and Hermione walked quietly into the streets where Remus could safely guide Hermione in Disapparating. Perhaps it was because he had been good in surrounding himself with such mystery that he knew she was thinking of something other than the current dangers in the wizarding world. "If it doesn't hurt anyone… maybe it's for the best that no one knows."

Hermione slowed down and looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I happen to have kept a secret so notorious for many years… I recognise that something's bothering you."

"It's nothing," Hermione replied quickly, shaking her head. "I'm just…" she breathed in and looked into the distance where the others were Disapparating back to their homes "…worried."

"Well, here's the spot," Remus said as they reached a good distance from the headquarters. He briefly examined the surroundings to make sure that no Muggle or unwelcomed wizards were watching; and then turned back to Hermione. "You can Disapparate here. Don't worry, we'll be taking closer looks at the map," he smiled reassuringly at Hermione before she Disapparated from view without another word.

* * * * *

Hermione Apparated just outside the door of her house still perturbed with the vision she suddenly had during her stay in the headquarters. Was this the dream she had forgotten? Was it only a dream? Why did it feel so real? Why… Malfoy? She touched her head as if everything she had seen that night would come rushing back to her as clear as if the scenes played in front of her eyes. Her mind was so deep into thinking; she didn't even realise that she was standing in the hallway just inside the door.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she replied as quickly as she pulled herself out of her trance. It was her mother coming out from the kitchens.

"Are you all right?" Mrs Granger walked towards her daughter who seemed to be glued on the spot near the door. "You're so pale," she said, feeling Hermione's head for any sign of illness.

"I'm… fine, Mum. Where's Dad?"

"He's in his office finishing some paperwork – Are you sure you're all right? Did something happen? Has that Voldy person been caught yet?"

Hermione smiled in spite of it. But shook her head no. "Not yet. But we're working on it – Mum? What's wrong?" she asked when her mother suddenly fell silent and remained looking at her with a worried face.

Mrs Granger breathed deeply, shrugged, and dropped her arms to her sides.

"Mum…" Hermione groaned mildly. Apparently, this gesture was already familiar to her as if they had talked about it for several times. "You know how much this means to me –"

"But Hermione, honey, we worry about you every time you're not home. I busy myself in the kitchens just to keep myself from going out of my head waiting for you to come home. Your Dad's always in his office doing paperwork and God knows he doesn't have that much paperwork –" she paused and looked at her daughter with pleading eyes. "If we just get out of here… leave…"

"It won't solve anything," Hermione interrupted. Yet her tone was so calm that it sounded as if running away was another option very welcome to her. "I worry about you, too. You and Dad. But it won't stop just because we leave them behind. I can't leave them behind. We can't leave them."

* * * * *

"W-what do you mean?" Draco's voice stuttered as if in the far distance. His throat went dry as Voldemort smiled cruelly from behind his snake-like face.

But Voldemort did not say anything and continued walking around the room – as if sauntering within an extremely fascinating venue. He breathed in that almost sounded like a hiss coming from somewhere else. And then, at last, spoke. "You know what I speak of, Draco…" He looked at Draco and immersed himself in excitement as he saw a trace of terror in those grey eyes.

"K-kill? You want me to kill –?"

"Oh, 'kill' is such a word so often used," Voldemort interrupted with a vile air of enthusiasm in his voice, "it has lost its touch on me," he continued talking in perverted humour. "I want to see the lights leave her eyes, Draco. I want to see you have fun…" he looked straight at Draco that Draco couldn't take his eyes off him. "I want to see you consume… devour…" he breathed in again with eyes closed as if inhaling a glorious aroma. And slowly, calmly, faintly whispered, "…death surfacing… rising… from her."

He paused.

And then he laughed.

In pleasure.

And excitement.

Draco looked at Voldemort. It wasn't human. He didn't know what to do. If he ran, they would hunt him and kill him… and it would be them who would be devouring death coming out of him. He felt sick. An involuntary cold chill ran through his spine as Voldemort turned his attention back on him. The Dark Lord was coming closer but he couldn't see him clearly any more. Everything was starting to blur. And a ghastly shed of pain seared his arm like his skin was being torn apart. He forced his mind to remain blank. He couldn't be having visions right now. It would make him vulnerable. No. No!

"I'm supposed to be your guide, Malfoy," Hermione said. "Well… sort of." She looked at Draco, who was now staring ominously straight through landforms in the horizon.

Draco was leaning on the trunk of a tree looking over the cliff just outside the manor, trying to appear that he was ignoring her. Yet, he listened as she spoke. "And what are you supposed to be? The ghost of my future?" he said with a smirk before turning back to the horizon.

"No. But I'm supposed to tell you what these all mean."

"This all means that I made a mistake. Because you're not supposed to be here. Give me the dagger." He held out a hand for Hermione to place the dagger. "No one's asking you to be my hero. Why don't you go back to your Halfblood friends and blood traitor allegiances? Rid me of you."

Hermione looked up at him; his hair was dancing softly with the wind… and his skin was just as pale even with the colour of the setting sun… yet, his stance and his eyes were piercing through her like blades of ice. She held up her left hand and opened her palm slowly were the dagger lay before the two of them. And just when Draco stirred to grab it, the dagger disappeared as if it dissolved into thin air.

A surprised expression flashed ever so briefly across Draco's face. He tried to hide it but Hermione caught it just as she herself was stunned with just what happened. "Where did it go? What did you do with it?" he demanded, though inside him, he felt that no one of them knew what happened.

Hermione looked up at him with a worried expression. "It's starting."

"Where is it? WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S STARTING? WHERE IS IT?!" Draco took her shoulders and shook her, not noticing that he was pushing her back towards the cliff.

"It will reappear in time when you're ready to save yourself by saving me!"

"You're lying! You're a Mudblood! Why would I have anything to do with you –?" He stopped when he suddenly fell on his knees as he heard Hermione's frightened screams quickly fading into the distance. "No."

She was falling.

He pushed her off the cliff.

But then, as had happened before, there could only be as much distance between the two of them. Hermione reappeared – angry and perhaps, though she knew that she was dealing with someone with dubious loyalty, still feeling betrayed. "You!" she yelled in genuine fury; hurrying towards Malfoy who was lying on the same ground where he pushed her off the cliff. She pulled her wand from her robes and pointed at him with shaking hands. "You bastard!"

Yet Draco, upon hearing Hermione's raging screams, lay still as he waited for her. And now even as she looked at him with cold cold resentment, he smiled and muttered, "Granger," as if greeting a friend.

Hermione glowered at him as she kept her wand aloft. "Get up, Malfoy. Get up! I'm finished trying to get through to you, you chauvinistic Pureblood!"

~*~*~*~

i wake up and there you are… breaking the last strands of weakness i have for my strength -- "angst"