Chapter 2
"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live."
― Dorothy Thompson
March 1998
The room came into view from where she lay. The room was vast but dark and depressing. It held the murky feeling of evil. In fact, it flowed into the room like black pus. She lay in the centre of the room, like an act on display, for entertainment purposes. Fear and the realisation that death was imminent clogged her endocrine system.
Terrified did not begin to describe how afraid she felt.
Hermione, though, was a bright young witch. She knew this was a distinct possibility when she joined Harry Potter on his quest to rid the world of Voldemort. However, the knowledge did not diminish the terror racing through her veins.
"Awwww, she's crying. Draco,Draco,look she's crying."
Laughter of a woman experiencing top tier delight, vibrated through the walls of the Malfoy Manor drawing room.
Bellatrix Lestrange was the epitome of everyone's nightmares. She represented the image muggles conjure up when they think of witches. She personified the wicked witch they thought all magical entities, that wore pointed hats,were. She made your blood run cold and your heart stop then race at lightning speed.
Hermione could not focus on any other of the occupants in the room. She had been cruciod three times already. The feeling of helplessness settled in, survival was not on the radar. She was praying, praying to all the Gods that Harry and Ron would escape. In her mind, this torture would end shortly. They knew what to do, they can do it without her. They had to. Someone had to kill this sick, twisted wicked person cowering over her currently. Hermione hoped she had done all she could for her friends and for the wizarding community. But she –
"Crucio," Bellatrix whispered with venom drenching the words and a wicked, insane smile on her lips.
Hermione's screams blasted through the entire Manor. Over and over again.
"Mudbloods must know their know their place,don't you agree Draco? " Bellatrix asked the pale blond boy.
"Yes, aunt Bella," he answered.
"You see, little mudblood, you deserve this. It's only fair, wouldn't you say?" the crazy witch rambled on. "Prancing through Britain, thinking you belong here because of Potter?"
"No, no, no. He can't help you now. He cannot stop what I'm going to do to you. You will be my example to him, to all the wizarding world."
"Ah ha! I'll brand you! Mudblood,mudblood. You will be branded like the low class filth you are. Cissy, isn't it a brilliant plan?" she asked her beautiful sister.
"Sure Bella,try not to mess on the floor."
Bellatrix cackled.
"So funny, so funny. So let's begin. Let's see M-U-D-…"
11 September 1998
"Hermione,Hermione wake up!" Ginny Weasley screamed at her friend.
Hermione was still in that drawing room, screaming her lungs out. She still saw that wretched woman's face. She was still about to die. She was captured in that terrifying moment until Ginny took matters into her own hands. She took the empty glass on the pedestal and waved her wand whilst saying,
"Aguamenti," the glass filled up and Ginny promptly threw it over her friend.
Hermione gasped when she felt the cold water splash over her face and soak her hair.
The water did the trick. It woke Hermione Granger up from the nightmares that has periodically been haunting her for the past four months. But it did not scare away how she felt. Her body was awake but her mind held onto the way she was feeling in her nightmare. Petrified.
She pulled up her arm and saw the word in furious red. It urged a violent panic attack on.
She started hyperventilating and crying. Hysteria was settling in.
"Hermione, calm down please. She is not here. She's dead. Bellatrix is dead."
That name did not shock her out of her frenzy. It seemed to aggravate her emotions. She started shaking, and a damp film started appearing on her forehead. She was having a panic attack.
"Hermione, Hermione please! What can I do, what can I do?" Ginny Weasley pleaded.
Hermione was making such a racket, she started waking up the other occupants of the eighth year dormitory.
"Ginny I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey." Neville said hastily before he ran off.
Ginny Weasley vaguely heard him. She was fixated on Hermione. She was at a loss. She did not know what to do. She had her share of nightmares as well. She saw Fred in her dreams frequently but this, this was something else.
Hermione had lost touch with reality. She was not even here. Ginny couldn't reach her logical friend and she was beginning to panic as well.
This was one of the few times Ginny could not reach her. These dreams were becoming worse. She wished Ron was here to help Hermione.
"Ginny, I need Ron. Get me Ron. He can help,he can help. I need him, He can make me feel safe, please,please,please. Ginny,Ginny,please!" Hermione pleaded.
"Hermione,Ron's away at Auror Training. I can't get hold of him-"
"No!I need him now. Right now!" Hermione shouted. She just wanted this feeling to stop.
"Hermione,please,you're being unreasonable,please calm down."
"No,no,no,no…" she started gasping for air like she could not get enough.
"What on earth is going on here?"
"Madam Pomfrey I think she's having a panic attack. She can't seem to breathe,please help her!" Ginny felt panicked as she witnessed her usually strong friend, go to pieces.
"Miss Granger, I am going to give you a sleeping draught. It will help you calm down and sleep without any nightmares," Madam Pomfrey explained while administering the potion.
In a moment or two Hermione's whimpers and pleads stopped and there was silence let out a sigh of relief and went back to bed.
Hermione Granger did not know it but she had an audience.
"Mental,bloody mental!" Pansy Parkinson said in a frustrated whisper.
"Wakes the whole bloody place but of course she can. Golden Trio my ass!" she continued.
"Pansy,give it a rest," Draco said.
"What?You're okay with her frequent bouts of screaming at ungodly hours of the morning?"
"No, but we all have them. We all deal with it differently. The mudblood,uhm, muggleborn clearly isn't as strong as she portrays herself to be. Be assured that you are clearly stronger. Finally something you are better than her at," Draco explained.
That silenced her. They all went back to their rooms and tried to fall asleep again.
The eighth years had a wing entirely to themselves this year. Only ten students returned. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Goyle all returned. They shared a dormitory with the other eighth year students who were from the other houses. That Longbottom, the Patil twins, the irish twit that blows things up just by looking at them and the mud-muggleborn. The Weaslette was forced to join the eighth year dormitory due to her friend's frequent nightmares. So technically they were eleven.
The joint eighth year dormitory was McGonagall's initiative. Stupid unity nonsense. Now everyone was subjected to the screeches of the bushy haired know-it-all.
It was not a daily occurrence. It happened on average twice a week. For the month of September,so far,everyone had to adjust to this new way of living.
Besides that, Hogwarts was pretty much the same. Draco Malfoy took more interest in his schoolwork this year. He studied quite frequently and was hoping to become a potions master in order to take over the potions division in his father's company. It was something, or rather the only thing motivating him these days.
Like Granger, he also had his nightmares. Though not as vocal, they definitely left an aftermath when he opened his eyes in the morning. It set the tone to his day. On these particular days, he would be extra grouchy and unbearable. So much so, his friends avoided him. So yes, he sympathised with Granger. He knew how she felt, to an extent.
Today, Friday, he had a class later in the day. After lunch, which allowed him to sleep in. Draco wandered to their common room and took a moment to study it.
It looked like every other common room, he supposed. However, it did not represent any of the Hogwarts houses. The walls had a soft, dove grey background with placid blue patterns on the wallpaper. With hints of cream. The drapes were placid blue as well. There were a few cream shaggy rugs scattered here and there and the couches were quite luxurious. It looked rather matured and stylish. It suited the stage in their lives.
The eighth years also had their own kitchen, in case they felt they did not want to dine with the rest of the school. Which in Draco's case, was quite often.
He walked into the kitchen and found Granger sitting at one of the counters on a bar stool.
Damn, he forgot, they both had the morning off.
The kitchen was black with stainless steel. Black cupboards, with stainless steel tops with an island in the centre. She was seated there, studying her cup of coffee intently. She clearly had not noticed his arrival. Draco walked to the cereal dispenser and got him some cereal.
The sound of the cereal dispenser turning startled Hermione. She started and turned to see who it was. Her heartbeat sped up. She still gets a fright for sounds that she was not aware of. These days those occurrences were often.
"My goodness, you scared me half to death!"
"If only it were that simple, "Draco replied sarcastically. He wanted to add the mudblood but he thought better of it. His father would not appreciate him hindering the revival of the Malfoy name. Infuriating one of the Golden Trio would not help them get into the good graces of the public. And really she wasn't that in his eyes changes your perception. Or rather clarifies it.
"Ha ha, hilarious, Malfoy," she replied in her usual feisty manner.
Hermione Granger lost herself only at night. During the day, she was the witch everyone knew and loved. Everyone except him, of course.
"I've been meaning to ask you, what's with all the staring?" Hermione asked him bluntly.
"What staring?" he spat.
"You know at the hospital and on the train platform when I was talking to Ron," Hermione explained.
"Don't be ridiculous!" he said with an air condensation.
"Are you saying I was imagining it? On two occasions?" Hermione asked sharply.
"Well, you are a bit mental these days. It wouldn't surprise me, " he said. His intention was to be cruel. He caught the flash of hurt in her brown eyes.
"It would be appreciated if you try not to subject us to all your constant nagging 's quite pathetic," he said haughtily this and stalked off.
Hermione was left staring at his back this time, speechless.
…
"She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. Her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life."
Jonathan Safran Foer
16 October 1998
A/N: Sexual themes ahead!
"So how are things?" Ginny asked her best friend. She sat down on her bed.
"It's going well. Why?" she replied.
"Well, let's see, your dreams occur on average three times a week now and you just pretend it's a small affliction. You don't want help, you don't want me to tell my brother or my boyfriend. I'm at a loss. You need help Hermione!" Ginny cried out in a rush.
Hermione looked at her friend, her mouth slightly open, due to shock. She then closed it and went to sit next to Ginny. She took both of Ginny's hands and said;
"The dreams, or rather nightmares, are getting worse. You're right. I didn't want to admit it. During the day, I mostly pretend I'm okay. But at night I lose control. Ron usually helped me. Not completely but more than anything or anyone. But he needs to live his life and he won't if he knows I'm suffering. He'll leave all his dreams behind for me and because I love him, I can't allow him to do that. I need to navigate my own storms now, " Hermione finished.
"But what have you been telling him in your letters," Ginny asked, slightly tilting her head to the right.
"Oh, I've been painting a glorious picture. And I know, I know. It's wrong to be deceitful but one day, I'll tell him. But right now, I need to fix myself, so that when we are together, we can be a healthy couple. Well, as healthy as possible. This year is giving me the perfect opportunity. It's just a pity about the snakes we have to see every day," Hermione said.
Hermione was all for rehabilitation and house unity. In fact, it's something she strongly believed in but these people were horrible. All they did was complain. Whilst they were not as bad as before, they sucked the life out of the room and they just could not mix with the rest of them. It was unbearable sometimes.
Pansy Parkinson was the absolute worst! She was always glaring at us. Once, Hermione overheard her talking to Blaise, saying how utterly disappointed she was that Voldemort had not succeeded. That Voldemort let his obsession with Potter hinder and ultimately ruin the plan. She had said they needed a new leader. A leader who could actually execute their plan.
It infuriated Hermione to no end because every person had lost so much in the war and the only consolidation is that the light side had won. But if people were still thinking like that then one day another Voldemort would show up and casualties, pain, torture and death would be experienced once again. It was unthinkable.
The ministry needed to think of something or they would be back to where they were in May.
"I know what you mean. They lurk and make me feel so uncomfortable. Though Blaise and Malfoy are not so bad anymore. I actually spoke to Blaise now the other day. Quite insightful," Ginny said in a matter of fact tone.
"Cannot say the same unfortunately. Malfoy called me mental back in September. He is still so hateful. I thought, he of all people, would change. With all his seen. The fact that he hasn't, really just upsets me so. Like the war and all we've lost was for no reason," Hermione was starting to get worked up so she changed the topic.
"So how are things with Harry?"
"Oh, you know, I miss him terribly. With the constant danger last year, right now I wish I could see him constantly. But with auror training, that is not possible. Though, in June, we plan to take a long holiday and spend every second with each other. You and Ron can join us!" Ginny jumped up excitedly.
"Definitely! I'll mention it to Ron," Hermione said. She felt lighter now that she spoke to Ginny.
The nightmares were getting out of hand and she's been using the sleeping potions more often these days. Madam Pomfrey said she needed to try and cope without the potion as it is quite addictive. She has tried, and that's when she was visited by that bitch, Bellatrix. Her mind just was in shambles. She was so afraid to sleep. If she did not have the potion, she would just stay up. The next day she'd have to use a glamour because she looked horrid and she honestly did not want her friends more concerned about her than they already were.
Hermione, like Ginny, was at a loss. Everyone was moving on. Look at Ginny? They still had emotional bouts but they were becoming rarer. Moving on did not mean they have forgotten, they have just learnt to live with it but Hermione was not anywhere near that point.
Ginny and Hermione left for breakfast after their talk and as they left the common room, they saw Malfoy and a pretty raven haired witch in the kitchen. Both women glanced at each other, wondering who she was.
…
"Draco, please give me this year to be myself and free. Our parents are ridiculous to expect us to be married so quickly. I want to date and be a teenager. I do not want to be tied down. Not this year. I think you share my sentiments?" the girl said.
"Tori, I could not have said it better, " said one Draco Malfoy.
Astoria Greengrass was a petite little pixie. Her hair was raven black but chopped to a length just above her chin. It went with her porcelain skin and ice blue eyes. It really suited her came across as blunt and bubbly. She was not like the other pureblood debutantes. She actually had a personality. Tori, as Draco called her, was intent on having a career and she wanted to enjoy her youth. She was forthright. She could play her games like any other conniving, slytherin but she was intelligent enough to choose her battles. She was perfect.
"But just to show me what I'll be getting, give me a teaser."
She pulled him by the shirt so that his body was flush up against hers. For a little thing, she was quite strong. She looked up at him, as he was a head taller than her, while fisting the bottom of his shirt with both of her hands. She waited for him to make the move. And he did.
He bent down and captured her soft lips with his. He wasted no time with finesse. He used his tongue to pry open her mouth. Once he gained access he massaged her tongue with his while allowing his hands to roam all over her body.
They were caressing each other and the kiss was slowly becoming more. They were devouring each other. She started unbuttoning his shirt and he was lifting up her school skirt until it was bunched up to her waist. She pushed his shirt off and it hit the floor. He grasped her legs and hoisted her onto the stainless steel counter. With her legs exposed, he was enjoying the soft skin of her thigh. She kissed his neck. First nibbling then sucking so hard, it must have left a mark. He became more daring as he went closer to the source of her heat. He checked to see if she was ready.
She was.
He got rid of the barrier and went to his knees. Her hands were woven in his hair. Her panting becoming more ragged.
He kissed her thighs and ended up by his true destination. He blew over her entrance and it elicited a groan from above. He started kissing her as he would her mouth and she was starting to lose it.
He continued for a few minutes before using his tongue to penetrate her whilst using his thumb to bring her over the edge.
Astoria shouted out loud. It was a good thing everyone was at breakfast.
"Does that satisfy your curiosity?" he asked her while licking his lips as he got up.
"Definitely, " Astoria giggled.
"I look forward to our wedding night," she jumped off the counter. "Oh hello Granger, hope I wasn't too loud," she giggled and walked off. Her undies left in the corner, forgotten.
Granger! What the-
"That was completely unsanitary!" she fumed. "How the hell could you be doing that, with a sixteen year old, I may add, in a place we all have to use?"
Draco was still in shock. It took him a while to reply.
"The others won't mind. We all aren't prudes like you are," he looked at her, straight into her luminous brown eyes. "A simple scourgify will your panties."
She huffed and started pacing before launching into her speech.
"I am not a prude! Why the hell do you people think that? Don't you idiots know it's the ones who read a lot that have the best imagination?" she said, in frustration.
"It could be because you walk around with a fucking stick up your arse. If you were getting fucked every now and then, you'd relax a bit more," Draco said.
She stopped pacing and stood in front of him, a few feet away.
"Just because I don't shag anything with a cock, yes, I said it, you son of a bitch, doesn't mean I am a prude!" she literally shouted.
Draco looked at her with a contemplative gleam in his eyes.
"Prove it."
"W-what?"
"Prove it. I know for a fact you have no commitments, currently. I have, one would say, a break from mine till next year June, so prove it. Right here, right now," he closed the distance until one step separated them, leaving the final decision, the final step up to her.
"How?"
"Use your imagination."
She could feel his breath on her face. He smelled clean and enticing. She saw exactly what he did to that girl. Maybe he could help her, maybe…
Hermione's mind short circuited. She took out her wand,went to the kitchen door and whispered,
"Colloportus."
The door locked with an audible click.
Disclaimer: Still belongs to the genius that is J.K Rowling.