Realization - Chapter 6
Pacing. He was pacing. The Dark Lord does not pace yet there he was, moving back and forth across the slippery floor, talking to himself with decadent abandon. The man was not scared - just worried. At least, it was what he told himself.
Catching Sybil Trelawny turned out to be a chaotic mess. The woman was bonkers and only caught out of sheer desire to annoy and bother Dumbledore, nothing more. However, catching everyone in the room off guard, including The Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy, she spoke a prophecy.
Her voice had been low and scratchy, abnormal from the high-pitched, banshee screeches normally heard from her fat mouth. She had uttered haunting words to the Dark Lord, telling him of what was to come.
One item was going to kill him. One item would lead to his downfall. One item which was currently in the possession of Albus Dumbledore, the only man he graced to fear. It was possible for him to give the item to Harry Potter, the said boy suppose to kill him. What could he do? What the fuck could he possibly do?!
He knew what to do, precisely why he sent the mudblood in to get it. The girl had done little in regards to bringing it to him, making him worry even more and finding the need to hurt her growing stronger. If she did not bring it to him the next time he called for her, then he was going to act; viciously.
The cloaked man kept pacing and pacing and pacing...
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Hermione jerked her head, alarm shooting through her as she witnessed the large door opening slowly.
Oh Merlin, no...I am so fucked...
Gnawing at her lower protruded lip, she thought about every plausible excuse she could say; sleepwalking; a much needed meeting with Dumbledore; all of which sounded completely made up or made her seem bonkers.
What the hell do I do?!
She saw a large, dragon-hide boot step inside hesitantly, certainly not the type of shoe Dumbledore would be using to cover his own feet. Her heart, which had plummeted to the very pit of her stomach, started beating again when she saw a set of jet black hair walk into the room.
"Blaise?!" she screamed in half-alarm and half-relief.
"Shh!" he beckoned, throwing his hands up to intensify her need to be quiet. Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress any further outbursts she wanted so much to scream out. Damn him for scaring me so!
"Are you trying to get caught? What if I had been Dumbledore?" he asked hastily, shutting the door behind him.
"I had an excuse," she lied, not wanting to deal with his accusations even if they were deserved. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"There was a problem at the field and Draco told me to come get you. Everyone is returning to the castle and you can't be caught so—"
"What kind of problem? Is he alright?" she inquired, worry written all over her pale face.
Blaise stood rooted at the spot for a moment before he sighed and said, "Your precious Potter fell off his broom and everyone is fawning over him."
"Is that all?" she asked, obviously satisfied with his response. "You had me worried for a moment," she breathed with her hand resting carefully over her heart.
"Yeah, well, what the hell are you still doing here? Draco told me you'd be in and out and now you're bloody reading?"
"No," she defended, "I just...I was looking through the fool's desk and something caught my attention. It's no big deal and I'm putting it away now. Besides, I did think what I'm looking for could have been in here. Now that I know I am wrong, I'll look elsewhere."
Hermione turned her attention to the desk, muttering cleaning spells so everything fell back into place. It was not as though she made a mess, but her file was in complete disarray after searching through it in such haste. Blaise peered over his shoulder, checking on the door. Call him paranoid, but he was not keen on being discovered in the headmaster's office with Hermione Granger searching through the man's desk.
"There," she muttered, shutting the last drawer and looking up at him.
"Good. Now, what exactly are you looking for?" he asked, crossing the distance between them.
Hermione shook her head. "Master told me to keep it quiet. I haven't even told Draco and—"
"This is not the time, Granger. We need to locate what ever it is and right quick because Dumbledore will be coming in shortly. I know for a fact he'll be putting this incident in his penseive, given he always does that."
"How did you—"
"You still have so much to learn about our side, Granger. At least give me a hint as to what we're looking for."
Hermione was quiet as she stared at the irritable Slytherin. One of the reasons she did not want to tell them, along with Voldemort's firm demand of keeping it to herself, was her need to do this alone. I don't need help. I can bloody do this myself!
Without giving him an answer, she turned her back on him to gaze over the room again. The possibilities were endless in a room filled with such exotic items and a vast amount of mysterious objects. What she wanted could virtually be anywhere in the office.
"Granger—"
"Shut up," she interjected rudely, "I'm thinking."
Blaise stomped his foot impatiently, cursing a blue streak for getting involved in such a thing. He always knew the mudblood would lead to trouble and with Draco falling for her the way he was...damn it, he knew she would be the death of his best mate.
Hermione looked across the room when something caught her attention—The sorting hat. Didn't Potter mention something about the hat? Something about Fawkes bringing the hat to him which in turned held it. It has to be in there...Please, be in there...
The girl walked over the short distance to stare at the floppy material sitting atop a high shelf. With supreme effort, she sat on her tip toes in an attempt to reach it. After several failed attempts she pulled out her wand. Before a spell could be muttered, however, Blaise had reached up and yanked down the hat with ease.
"Thanks," she grumbled, snatching the hat from him.
"Snippy little thing, aren't you?" he quipped, making her scoff at him. Instead of returning an insult, she turned her attention to the hat (which was surprisingly quiet), staring at it and confusing the Slytherin next to her.
"What are y—"
Blaise stopped talking when a long, elegant sword appeared in the hat. Hermione smirked and yanked it out, shoving the Sword of Gryffindor into the confines of her black belt in replacement for a sheath.
"That...is that—"
"Yes it is," she said flatly. "Come on, we've got to get out of here before someone sees us."
Not needing to be told twice, Blaise rushed toward the door and bustled her out before shutting it with finality.
Hermione and Blaise scurried away from their prior location. The tall boy kept throwing glances over his shoulder, but nobody was there. Paranoia; a punishment for being bad. It was when they reached the third floor that Blaise's thoughts were forced to subside as Hermione had asked him a question, something he was not thrilled about answering—
"What has the Slytherins in an uproar? I would assume Harry's fall would be worthy of a party and such."
Blaise looked forward, eyes scanning the corridor she was referring to. He saw a few Slytherins running around in a tizzy, the girls crying their eyes out as the boys walked with their heads hung low.
The dark-haired girl faced him, black tendrils falling in front of her brown eyes. Unlike the Slytherin girls who would all believe the barrage of lies he could tell them, he had a feeling based on Hermione's inquisitive look that there was no way of getting around it. He had to tell her.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice slightly higher pitched than before.
"Um..." He felt foolish not saying anything other than a sheepish 'um', but he the thought of telling her was not appealing.
Hermione looked at him with a mixture of worry and annoyance on her pretty face. Blaise had to admit she was a perfect match for Draco with her short temper.
"I didn't tell you the whole story. You see, Potter took someone else down when he fell."
Hermione's face paled, not needing to be told who else had fallen. He'd taken Draco down with him.
Blaise watched her turn toward the Hospital Wing, but he stopped her, grabbing her firmly by the upper arm.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked harshly.
"Let me go! I have to see him—"
"You can't," barked Blaise. "You cannot go down there to see him."
Hermione tried to disengage from his grip, but he was too strong for her. Her eyes were welling up with angry tears, but she was not allowing them to spill over.
"What will this accomplish?" he asked, pinning her by the shoulders to a wall, alarming most of the students in the area. He spoke low as to not reveal the discussion between them. "You cannot go to Draco. You want to honor him, avenge him? Then you remain quiet and not breathe a word to anyone. Remember what side you're on and remember what you hold against your body. If anyone discovers what you're up to then everything you've worked for will be lost. You will not be able to be with him. You need to be careful and remember your actions have consequences."
"I can't not see him," she whispered.
"Go up to your room and be rid of the sword, putting it in a safe place. Then, you go to Potter, but out of the corner of your eyes you look at Draco. I know my best friend and waking up to discover the girl he loves in the confines of Azkaban will kill him. I've never seen him like this before and I sure as Merlin never thought his feelings would be directed at you. None the less, he cares for you. Do not disappoint him by getting caught." Blaise's grip had loosened, but his green eyes were still piercing at the girl.
"I uh..." It was obvious she could not finish.
Blaise cleared his throat and loudly said, "Go to Potter. Calm down first, of course, but then go to him. Clean yourself up, too. You look a dreadful mess."
Chuckling he turned away to leave Hermione against the wall. Several Gryffindors ran to her side, but she shied them all away. Running with the speed of a gazelle, she reached the portrait of the fat lady and trudged inside in a tizzy. Ignoring the anxious calls of 'Hermione' which only could have been from Lavender Brown, she raced into her dorm, slamming the door behind her.
Sliding down on her knees, she threw open her trunk meeting the lovely organized contents. In a frenzy, she threw various things out, not caring what happened to her precious belongings. Her thoughts were nothing other than two words repeating over and over in her mind—
Draco
Sword
Draco
Sword
DRACO!
Placing the Sword of Gryffindor neatly into her trunk allowed her body to relax for a moment. However, the anxiety returned when the other word she repeated flashed before her eyes like a taunting neon sign.
DRACO!
Breathing was no longer an easy task as her lungs and throat felt constricted. It felt like someone was compressing her chest down, not allowing cold air to enter her body. Whirling dizziness had her leaning against the bed frame for support. Before she knew what was happening, her body collapsed. The last thing she heard before the darkness claimed her, aside from the clatter of her body against the cold floor, was the distant screams of what sounded like three girls behind her.
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When Hermione's burnt umber eyes met the dim lights of the hospital wing, she felt extremely heavy and unable to move most limbs. Her slim fingers wound weakly around the white bed sheets beneath her body while her toes scratched along the outer rim of the small bed.
After several moments of failed attempts to move in a normal manner, her chocolate eyes scanned the room for any other sign of life. To her right, she spotted Harry resting clad identically to her, both in bed and hospital attire. Black glasses askew and messy hair even more shambolic than usual, Harry looked relatively normal as he slumbered peacefully.
A mop of red-hair was resting atop of his sheets, a small freckled hand grasping Harry's pale limb, interlacing their various fingers. Noting their intimate position, her mind wandered to her own man, who she last heard was still residing in the same locale.
Turning her vertiginous head toward the left, she scanned the dark room for him. Numerous beds lined the wall and she almost missed him. His colorless hair caught her attention. Draco was leaning back against the headboard, grey-iced eyes staring forward in a daze, clearly lost in his own hazy world. Hermione's awakened presence had yet to register to him allowing Hermione a clear view of his injury—a large gash ran along the outer part of his jaw along his neck and down to his chest.
I'm going to kill Harry Potter!
Giving Harry and Ginny another unsure and wearily look, with her remaining strength she removed herself from the confines of her bed.
Draco did not even notice the soft footsteps cantering toward him until Hermione stood directly in front of his bed. He opened his mouth in protest, intending to tell her to return to her bed so she could rest (plus, it was running the risk of them being caught by her standing the way she was), but for some reason he bit his tongue and shut his mouth.
"Are you alright?" she asked shakily, standing on wobbly legs.
Draco frowned and looked down. He sighed, "I should ask you the same thing. I wake up and discover you're here and not in perfect health. What the hell happened?"
"I don't know," she breathed honestly. "I um...I don't know. Everything was alright until I...damn it...I went into his office and everything just didn't go as planned."
"Were you caught?" he asked in a near silent voice.
Shaking her head, she muttered, "No. Blaise came into the room and startled me. I was not expecting to be interrupted, but there is good news." She flashed him a grin, one which he did not return, before she revealed, "I did find what he wanted. I did it, Draco."
"Great," he replied, looking away from her gaze.
It did not take a bloody genius or someone of Hermione's vast intellect to realize how upset he was. His cracked and defeated voice was an obvious giveaway, but his posture and facial expression acknowledged his exacerbation.
"Draco I—"
"I realized something when I woke up and I saw the sheWeasley with Potter. Normally I would have been disgusted by the sight of something like that, but this time...it fucking irked me."
"Why?" she asked sincerely.
Draco shook his head, explaining, "I can never have that. Not with you at least. Being honest, I normally wouldn't bloody care if it were any other girl, but things are different with you. I'll never be able to wake up here to the sight of your bloody gorgeous face or be able to hold your hand if and when it's you lying in the bed. I can't help you, run to you, comfort you, or have the mutual affection you feel returned. I fucking envy him for having the ability to be with his girl when I can't."
Hermione bit her lip, a subconscious gesture of the uncomfortable situation taking a toll on her.
"I realized how much this...hurts. You have me under a spell and I don't know if I like the feeling."
"What?" she asked, unsure of what he meant. "Um...what are you trying to say—"
"It's not like that, Hermione. Damn it—I want so much to be with you...it hurts sometimes. I don't think I can bear to be apart, but it just blows how I can't hold you or even fucking talk to you without screwing up everything."
His words sent her into a paranoid frenzy making her peer over her shoulder, making sure Ginny and Harry slept continually.
"What are we going to do?" she asked, turning around to face him.
Shaking his head, he contented, "I don't know. I just don't fucking know. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone or at least not while I'm here. After the war, maybe, but not now. Not when there is a possibility of losing you."
"You won't," she declared, feeling her palms sweat.
"You don't know that. Damn it—we really don't know that. When it comes out during the battle...they'll be out for your blood." Draco's face contorted for a moment with agony, hating the thought of anyone doing something to her. What was wrong with him?! Grant it, he did care for certain people. It would bother him if his mother was harmed, but if it was for the greater good of his purpose, of the Dark Lord's arise, then so be it. He was willing to make the sacrifice. When it came to Hermione...it was a whole different story.
He had a feeling she would be the death of him.
"Draco...I—"
"Hermione what the hell are you doing?"
Jerking her head, she faced the piercing blue eyes of Ginny Weasley along with the comatose gaze of Harry Potter, both looking at her with uncertainty and ambiguity. It was obvious how much they were questioning the girl.
Hermione's sable hair swayed over her shoulders as she looked back and forth between her 'friends' and her 'enemy'.
Draco, realizing her inability to come up with a proper lie, smirked; "I think the ruddy ginger freak asked you a question, mudblood. Care to answer her? Personally I'd like to know myself."
The girl's dark gaze softened, but only for a moment, allowing her to whisper a silent 'I love you'. Afterwards, she sneered at him with utmost distaste.
"I only came to talk to you about Harry and how you're going to stay away from him. Come near him again and I'll be sure to place your own wand somewhere that not even your mother would venture. Got it?"
Ginny moved over toward them, wrapping an arm around her friend, shying her away from the blond boy. "Come on, Hermione. He isn't worth it."
"Oh I'm worth it. Trust me, I'm worth more than all your family owns so fear not about my worth, Weasley," smirked Draco coyly.
"You conniving, disgusting, moronic ingrate—"
"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?!" barked Madame Pomfrey. "I fully expect Miss Granger to be in bed in a matter of moments, for Mr. Malfoy to throw himself in a vat of silence, for Mr. Potter to return to bed, and for Miss Weasley to exit the hospital. I mean now!"
Hermione waddled back over to bed without so much as another glance toward Draco, ushered by the red-haired girl. Madame Pomfrey pulled back the covers, helping Hermione enter the uncomfortable bed.
"Now, you must go back to bed Miss Granger. You need rest right now."
"What exactly is wrong with me," asked Hermione, forcing Draco to perk his ears up from across the room, attempting to hear what the mediwitch was saying.
The woman sighed, "You had a panic attack. Miss Weasley ran in the room flustered along with Miss Patil and Miss Brown to find you in such a weak state. I understand the stress from Mr. Potter's fall, but darling you cannot over exert yourself. On top of all this, you're just returning back. Don't you think you should take it easy?"
Hermione looked down and away. What was she going to do? On top of dealing with Draco getting hurt, she was dealing with the Sword of Gryffindor and the guilt still riding around in her body. Yes, the guilt had to be a primary cause for the stress attack on her body.
"Please rest Miss Granger. As for you Miss Weasley–" she said, emphasizing her words like speaking with a small child, "–I fully expect you to be gone when I come back out in five minutes. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
With a nod, the woman left, giving Ginny reign for a few moments to speak with her female friend as Harry promptly went back to sleep.
"Are you alright?" asked Ginny.
"I'm okay. I just—" Her gaze reverted over to Draco who was staring back, telling her in every way how much he loved her; "—I'm tired. I'm just really tired."
"Well, it's to be expected. You should rest. You look like You-Know-Who just walked into the room."
Hermione chuckled. Unbeknownst to Ginny, Hermione's laughter was encased with fear—she didn't know how truly right she was.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter gave me a lot of grief. The chapter is vital for the ending to make sense so again, I'm sorry - but I do hope you all enjoy it!
I'm not getting my review alerts nor am I able to respond to any of you. You all know fanfic - it goes through annoying spells like this. Anyways, I'll just say THANK YOU to everyone who responded to the last chapter. The following people get cookies for guessing right: Chocolateveela (for the sword), TheSlayerettes (for guessing Blaise), StormMasters (for guessing the sword), and half a cookie to Isabella Heart (for guessing an ally). Hehe, thanks to the rest of you just for reading. You guys are ALL awesome!!
READ AND REVIEW!! If you can read it, then you can review it.
Evil's Mistress is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.