Ch 44 - Tears Again
Hermione knew exactly what memory to use. The Amorita was strongest if there were both tears of joyful love and heartbroken love. She had strong memories of both and they were linked, making it easy to hold both in her mind at once.
Her memory of seeing Harry in Hagrid's arms and thinking he was dead still caused a horrible pressure in the middle of her chest. She had felt as though her heart had physically ripped in half. Her breath had stopped; her mind had stopped. She had been frozen, her mind rejecting the cataclysmic possibility that Harry could be . . . gone.
She hadn't even known that she was crying. Not until she looked back and his body wasn't there any more. Before she could even process that, she had heard his voice ring out - strong, healthy and aggressive. Then tears of joy, confused and uncomprehending joy, had poured from her eyes and only then had she realized that her cheeks were already damp.
She held onto the first memory as she cast the spell. It was such a strong memory that she wasn't completely sure that she could handle feeling it again, but she would do it, because such power could only help Harry. The motions Luna had taught her flowed easily together and she knew that it was working even before she finished. She felt her magic gathering in her wand, building, and with the final flick of her wrist it burst from her in a luminescent ray of spectacular blue. It was Amorita in a burst of power.
As it contacted Harry she moved to the other memory, back and forth between the two, in her mind, and they built on each other, the heartbreak making the joy so much deeper, the joy of regaining Harry making the idea of losing him even more wrenching.
And now he could feel it. He knew how important he was to her, how important he was, not as the savior of the wizarding world, but as her friend, as the best human she knew. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest and she wondered if he could feel it too.
The energy flowing through her was helping him; she knew it was. But her hand was beginning to shake. She was still not back at full strength. How long could she channel this much magic? She forced the thought away, brought her left hand up to steady her wand hand and focused on the happiness of knowing that Harry was alive. She took a deep breath. She had to sustain this. The ball was moving toward Riddle.
She tried to focus, forced herself to keep breathing deep breaths. She had to trust that others would protect her, make sure that she wasn't vulnerable to any Death Eaters on the prowl. She counted to five on each breath in, then five again as she breathed out. Then she returned to the memories.
This was more work than she had expected it to be, but that was okay. The stakes were high. It was worth it. She felt sweat running down the side of her face and for a fleeting moment panicked and thought she had to cast an Abolesco. No. Greyback was dead. She didn't have to worry about that any more.
The ball of pulsing magic was moving toward Riddle. She just had to hold on. She had to keep helping Harry.
And then she felt a pulse in the small of her back. What? It didn't hurt. It was more like the feeling of a gentle hand. With a start she realized that it was Draco. She could feel his presence, his support, more than his support. His love.
She wanted to turn and look at him, but she couldn't break the connection to Harry. She brought her memories of affection for Harry back into her mind to strengthen that connection and this time she actually saw the magic lurch toward Riddle. She soaked in the feeling from Draco's spell. Her hand wasn't shaking now. She felt powerful, invincible.
She had been so wrong, so confused. There was no question now. Whatever had happened before, he didn't love Pansy. He loved her. She felt it as strongly as she had felt his pain when she had been in his mind. His magic moved through her, then her magic surged through Harry. Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of another blue streak flowing from Ron to Harry, and it seemed that Luna was casting a similar spell on Ron since there was a blue glow behind him.
Her heart soared. She had always hoped that Harry could defeat Riddle, but until now she had also feared that he couldn't. Now she knew that he could; it was happening; Riddle was doomed.
And he knew it. She saw the fear in his eyes. He took a step backwards, then, just before the ball of golden power reached him, he threw his arms up in front of his face, dropping his wand, and the blast of power smashed into him.
In a second the former Dark Lord dissolved into a million particles of evil ash. Hermione let out a whoop of victory which slid into a scream as she felt, through her back, a stab of excruciating pain.
Her first thought made no sense - "No, it's impossible. We must be deceived. . We can't win."
What? Harry had just triumphed. Even as there were cries of victory all around her, she turned to see who had struck her, but she wasn't the one who had been hit. It was Draco.
Behind him, his demented Aunt had risen up to her knees. Her face was mangled into a snarl and she was cackling. Hermione barely registered her at all before the insane witch was hit by flashes of green, from Bill Weasley, from Kingsley. She wasn't even sure how many killing spells had hit her, but it didn't matter. Draco was down. He was bleeding from wounds all over his body, lying prone on the floor. Yet, he was still managing to hold himself up on one elbow. He clutched onto his wand and the blue line connecting him to her was unbroken.
The emotion he was sending through the Amorita connection had changed though. Now it was desperate, grieving. Hermione couldn't separate the pain of a thousand lacerations and the agony of this horrible heartache.
Luna was on her knees next to him. Hermione lurched over. She felt as if the blue line still connecting them pulled her, her feet barely touching the ground. She couldn't lose him now.
"What hit him?" she asked Luna, but Luna just frowned and shook her head.
"I think it was gray, like lead. I've never seen it before."
With a gasp, Hermione realized that he was covered in small cuts, just as she had been. What was that spell called?
"I think it's Crudus sensim."
"Do you know the counter-curse?"
"Not well, I was . . . not in good shape when he cast it."
"Then Draco knows it?" Luna questioned.
Hermione nodded, then realized that meant she could get it from him. His eyes were already locked on hers and she dove into his mind as quickly as she could. Once she was in she couldn't believe how different it felt from when she had done legilimency earlier. Everything was thick, sluggish. Instead of moving through his thoughts as easily as she moved through her own, she felt bogged down, unable to push one memory aside to see others.
"Draco, help me. Where is it?"
"It's not here. There is nothing that can help." She felt his response, but even that was slow, exhausted. What was going on?
"Draco. You saved me. What spell did you use?"
"It doesn't matter. It won't work."
"Why? What did she hit you with?"
"It's too late. It's all over."
"Draco, no. We have to . . ." Hermione fell back and landed ungracefully on her backside. He had pushed her out. He dropped his wand and fell heavily onto his face, apparently unconscious. They were no longer connected. The smell of his blood was almost enough to choke her.
"He won't let me see it," she whispered, unbelieving, to Luna and the others who had gathered. She was having trouble shaking the lethargy. She couldn't move on to any other ideas.
Luna could though. She called in a firm voice: "Does anyone know the counter curse to Crudus sensim?"
It wouldn't help. The spell was too rare. He was bleeding out. His lips were . . .
"I know it."
Hermione turned slowly to see who said that, but Harry was already casting. "Senare sensim." His voice was strong and echoed in the now quiet cave.
"It isn't working," Hermione whispered. The cuts were all still there; the bleeding hadn't slowed.
"It is. It just takes some time. That's what happened when he cured you. Give it time."
"Hermione? Are you okay?" Luna had moved over to her. "Here, drink this." Luna held out a glass she had conjured with a clear liquid in it.
Hermione took it, but asked "What is it?"
"Just water. It should help you shake off the after effects of whatever's got Draco."
With a skeptical frown, Hermione drank the water, then breathed a sigh of relief as the water did seem to help. She was so thirsty that she quickly drank the whole glass.
She glanced over at Draco. His cuts were almost all gone. Harry vanished the blood, but Draco still didn't move.
"That wasn't just a Crudus sensim," Hermione said softly, to no one in particular. "There's something else, something in his mind."
"What was it like? What was his mind like?" Bill Weasley was crouched down near her, staring intently at Draco.
"It was awful. Heavy, sluggish. He seemed absolutely sure that all was lost." Hermione felt somewhat better, but the hopelessness of his thoughts still weighed her down.
"That sounds like a Desperationis, the Curse of Despair. Did anyone see what color it was?" Bill's certainty gave Hermione a slight lurch of hope.
She looked around, but Luna was over with Ron, helping someone, maybe Seamus, who was cradling his arm. "Luna said it was gray. Can you cure it?"
Bill said nothing for a moment. "Maybe. But it isn't easy. The problem is that his consciousness is probably linked with the curse. We have to find a way to pull it loose before I get rid of the curse or it will . . . It won't work out well for him."
Hermione frowned. She didn't understand.
Bill stood up, walked over to Draco and levitated his limp form. "Come on," he said to Hermione. "Let's get him out of here so we can focus."
Hermione nodded mutely, then summoned Draco's wand. "Where are we going?"
"Probably best to avoid St. Mungo's right now. Let's go back to Grimmauld."
Hermione nodded, then apparated herself to the front hall of Grimmauld Place, fighting the exhaustion that was starting to settle in. After a moment of waiting for Bill and Draco to appear, Hermione realized that she could hear them upstairs, maybe in the drawing room.
"Bill?" she called.
"We're up here," he answered. "Do you think you could find some blood replenishing potion somewhere?"
"Sure," she said, but she didn't know where that would most likely be kept. The kitchen? Had she left any in her room? Then she shook her head. Her brain was still not quite working right. "Accio blood replenishing potion!" she called and a vial flew into her hand from somewhere upstairs.
When she arrived with it in the drawing room Bill gestured for her to give it to Draco. He was lying on the sofa and still unconscious so she cast a careful swallowing spell to make sure he didn't choke on the potion. Within moments his color was back to being his normal pale, rather than a sheet white.
"Okay, what you shouldn't do is any sort of legilimency. This hex is attacking his mind and will attack you too if you go in there again."
Hermione nodded. She hadn't even thought about that possibility before, but Bill was obviously right.
"So how do we separate his consciousness from the curse?"
"We need a spell that affects his emotions. When he reacts to it, that can create a fissure. I just need the separation to start and then I can usually pull the curse away. Sometimes a cheering charm can do it, although this one seems maybe too intense for that." Bill seemed lost in thought. "Oh, and we're going to need a vessel, something sturdy, preferably metal, to store the curse in once I get it out."
Hermione glanced around the drawing room. "Would a silver teapot work?" She gestured to a china cabinet with glass doors.
Bill nodded, then said, "Wait, let me get it. Knowing the Black family, I'd better check it for dark magic first."
While Bill went to get the teapot, Hermione sat next to Draco on the edge of the sofa. He wasn't awake, but he wasn't peaceful either. He writhed and murmured, struggling against something deep within himself. It wasn't fair. He had already been through so much. They had finally killed the Evil One - Voldemort. He was gone and his name was no danger to anyone anymore. Draco should be able to enjoy this. He should be able to jump to his feet and yell "Voldemort is dead!"
"Okay, let's start with a cheering charm." Bill was back. He stood behind the back of the sofa and pointed his wand at the back of Draco's head. He cast some sort of diagnostic spell and Draco's head glowed with a strange gray light, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon.
Hermione cast the charm, but there was no change in Draco's glowing color.
"Okay, let's try something different. How are you at a Confundo?"
"I can do it." Hermione frowned. Confusion would be a different emotion. She tried the spell, but again there was no change.
This time Bill stood and tapped his foot, frowning, clearly lost in thought. Hermione tried to think of a spell that would change emotion. Something strong.
"Wait, Bill. The Amorita spell. That certainly changed my emotions. Would that work?"
"It's worth a try."
Hermione stood up to help herself focus. This could be it. She took several deep breaths and tried to pinpoint the right memories. Tears? Had she cried over him?
He'd held her while she cried. That was so long ago. The day she found out that Hestia was dead, that they had a spy. But she hadn't been crying over him then. He was part of it all, but those weren't tears of love.
She hadn't even begun to think of him . . . like that until Harry brought it up, until after he'd saved her and brought her to the hospital.
Things had moved so fast. One day she was just realizing that he might have feelings for her, and then she thought she'd gotten him killed when she'd told him too much, then missed a memory before he had to appear in front of the . . . in front of Voldemort.
There had been tears then, tears of relief when she finally saw him safe and sound at the Summers' Estate. That was the memory she should use.
She turned her head and saw Bill watching her with a smirk, his arms crossed.
"Got the memory you need?"
She knew she was blushing, but it couldn't be helped. She just nodded. She ran through the wand motions once, to be sure she remembered them.
Once again, when she cast the spell, she could feel the magic gathering in her wand before she did the final motion. A luminescent blue streak shot out as she flicked her wrist and then she was connected to Draco. His eyes popped open and for a moment they seemed bright and hopeful.
Bill called out. "There it is!"
Then Draco suddenly twisted away from her, clenching his eyes shut.
"Damn!" Bill swore. "I missed it. Hold on to the spell. This is getting the most reaction we've had yet. This despair curse has its claws deep in him, but there was a brief opening theret. He needs some hope. Try adding some hopeful thoughts. Maybe that will reopen the fissure."
Hermione frowned. That didn't seem to be how the Amorita had worked before, but since she had established a connection she would try to send . . . what? Something hopeful.
She took a deep breath and concentrated. Draco. He's dead. We've killed the Dark Lord and now we're all free. The blue of the spell flickered on his skin, but didn't seem to be penetrating the way it had with Harry, the way it had at first with Draco.
"Keep going," Bill encouraged her. "Just keep trying different thoughts until something catches his attention."
Draco, there's so much we can do now. We can just be normal kids, go on dates, go to Quidditch games, sleep in on weekend mornings, whatever we want.
"He's not fighting as much now. Try to be specific. That's usually more powerful, more distracting."
I want to travel with you. I want you to come with me to Australia. To go get my parents. They think their names are Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I need you to help me bring them back, remind them who they are and who I am. I need you to help me show them that they are Nick and Linda Granger. I need you to be there when . . . .
"Hermione! That did it. I'm in. Now, just hold on to the spell."
Hermione could see, out of the corner of her eye, that Bill was on his knees near Draco, focusing intently on the blond. Draco rolled to his side and stared at her. At first his eyes were unfocused, then they shifted and he seemed to startle when he realized she was there.
"Hermione?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Draco. I'm here."
"Your father - what's his name?"
AN - Thanks so much for those of you who have recently decided to give WIPs some love. I know it is easy to give up on a WIP that hasn't been updated recently, but I am almost done. Going to keep the chapters coming & a bit faster now.