A/N:NOTE: I might mention a lake in this fic, and I'm not too sure about 'the lake' I specify here, let's just say it's fictional. I'm not good in details, after all. Lol. Forgive me.
Chapter 8: "How Good Was Miss Granger?"
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She felt her heart stop, and refuse beating. Time froze, and her stomach was twisting and churning, heavy silence hovered above her, clouding her thoughts.
It was impossible.
"I—what?" Hermione asked, her eyes beginning to water. She didn't even fancy him, and all of a sudden she says 'I love you, Harry' in her sleep? She felt herself hyperventilate, and her heart was pounding so hard. She felt sick to her gut.
"You're serious?" She questioned, holding back her tears.
"No." Harry said, chuckling. "Relax, I was just joking."
"That wasn't funny." She said, trying to calm herself down, but she did anything than calm down. Her chest was still pounding, and she felt anxiety take over her.
"I just wanted to know your reaction." He said, laughing. Hermione could feel her tears drop, making little dots on her pajamas. "April fools?" He tried, even if it was near September.
"I am not some experiment you toy with! I'm not some guinea pig you taunt and you charm and you confuse just so you can see its reaction!" She looked up at him, her tears continuing to fall. She did the first thing that came to mind. Run.
"Where are you going?" Harry called, getting up from his seat. Hermione didn't answer.
She runs up to her room, and Mitch follows her, standing by the door. She slammed it loudly, and he could hear her faint sobs. Mitch felt a twinge of compassion in his gut, but dismissed it. "Mitch." She called. He opened the door slightly, sticking his head in. "Yes ma'am?"
"Can I have a moment? I mean alone?" She said, staring up at him.
He nodded, thinking that she could at least be an exception. "Call me if you need anything."
"Thanks." She mumbled quietly, sitting in a corner in her room, crying.
She wrapped her shoulders tightly around herself. Her shoulders were shaking, and she took in sharp intakes of breath. How could he have been so stupid? He was only amused of her reactions, taking her in for surprise after surprise. She closed her eyes tightly, as more tears came. The faint sound of footsteps alarmed her. She got up slowly, locking the door. She went towards her bed, lying down as her sides ached from all that stress.
She desperately wrapped herself in her blanket, trying to sleep, as her tears continued to flow, making her pillow damp. She wanted to sleep so badly, so that the annoying pain in her heart would be numb for the next few hours.
The odd 'thump' was there again, making Hermione jolt up from her bed. She looked at the clock, it was seven in the evening. Her room was starting to fall victim to nocturnal darkness, as she tiptoed around on the cold floor. She finally found her way to her bathroom, and took a dip in her bathtub. Then she changed into her everyday clothes after 30 minutes, she slowly opened her door.
And there he was.
He had supposedly fallen asleep waiting for her, at the foot of her door. He was sitting down, his legs spread in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest, and his head bent. She walked cautiously around Harry, afraid of waking him up. She found her way towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Someone asked.
"Why would you care?" She retorted, walking towards the front door.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked, grasping her arm.
"Let go of me!" She hissed, her voice echoed throughout the house, making Harry wince slightly. "I'm going out."
"Let me go." She scoffed, her arm violently slipping from his grip.
"No." he said, grasping her wrist. Hermione groaned loudly—her tears were coming again.
"Harry, let me go." She pleaded, her tears falling again, making little dots on the doormat.
"What do you want from me?!" Cried Hermione, as more tears welled up in her eyes.
"At least let Mitch accompany you." He mumbled.
"I can take care of myself." She huffed, slapping him as he reached out to grab her other arm. He looked at her, dumbfounded. She scowled at him, running off, somehow getting in a taxi before the guards could follow her.
---
"Take me to New York." Hermione sniffed, entering a taxi, she sat down at the backseat, and she heard the doors lock. She looked up frantically, realizing that it was a precaution taxi drivers did only seconds later.
"England's always nice." The taxi driver commented, Hermione staggered.
"Who are you?" She asked, turning her head towards the driver's seat.
"You wouldn't want to know that." He threatened, smiling, but beneath his smile, he was serious. Hermione got the impression that he was joking. She thought that maybe it was a coincidence.
"I said New York." She argued.
"I really think you should go to England, now." The man suggested. Hermione kept silent.
"Nice to see you again, Ms. Granger. Or should I call you by Ms. Barrett now?" Laughed the man in the driver's seat, he turned his head around to face her as he continued driving. Her jaw dropped in horror. He was the man from a couple of weeks ago.
"So you're not with Mr. Potter?" He said his voice acutely happy, forming a threatening smile. "That's good. That's really good."
"Get me out of here!" She cried, trying to open the already locked door, she banged the windows and tried to call the attention of passers-by, but no one noticed. Her tears started to come back.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE! HELP!" She shrieked, still trying to get away. He laughed loudly, menacingly, making her shudder and cringe.
"The only place you're going to is England. Now listen." He commanded, grabbing her by her jaw tightly, his grip tightening, she winced. "There are ten men surrounding your friends house, each armed with guns and smoke bombs. Let's just say that I have the authority to tell them whether to attack or to stay put. You have to help me when I make that decision. If you cooperate, I won't let them hurt your boyfriend and his family."
"I—uh." She stuttered, more tears streaming down her face. "Don't hurt them." She said weakly, trying to stop herself.
"If you behave, we won't hurt them. It's best to keep them out of this, you know. So we don't have to deal with erasing the evidence and all those procedures—they're tiring." He said deviously, his laughing reverberating throughout the vehicle.
"That's... good." She said quietly, dialing 911 on her phone which was hidden in her bag, she pretended to look for her handkerchief while she dialed.
She felt a sharp pain on her hand, and before she knew it, she was lying down on the backseat, her things scattered all over the back seat. Her head throbbed as it clashed against the window.
"Were you just trying to dial 911?" He asked, his voice still innocent. His tone as if he was scolding a child with cavities who accidentally took a cookie from the cookie jar. She felt her blood pump up to her head, and her heart beating rapidly. She felt her head throb even more.
"No." She lied, lightheaded, her head in her hands.
She felt the car's speed increase dangerously, she turned her head to the side, and to see that they were not in Miami anymore... at least that was what she thought, since everything was a blur.
"Let me out!" She started, her fist hitting the window. She raised her voice calling to no one in particular. "HELP ME!"
"Ms. Granger, you remember our agreement, or must I remind you again?" He asked sternly, gripping her wrists tightly so that it started bruising. She winced, as she felt a trickle of blood flow down from her forehead. The car went back into normal speed.
A thought raced through her mind, a dangerous thought.
"What are you doing—" The man asked surprised as Hermione leaned forward, and steered the wheel to its extreme right, making the car crash against a number of trees, it twisted and turned, making deafening screeching sounds. She heard a sharp cry, she looked around to see no one screaming, she put her seatbelt on—to somehow protect her from further injury. It took her a few seconds to realize that the sharp cry was actually coming from her. After what seemed like an eternity, she regained composure, she turned her head to face forward, to see that the man was gone, the door ajar—
And the taxi heading towards the cold, unwelcoming water of the lake.
---
"Where could she be?" Harry asked, pacing the room. "Have they gone after the taxi?" He asked Mitch. He nodded. Harry scolded himself for being too stupid, letting her run off like that. He scolded Hermione for being completely carefree—there were men out for her! And here he was, pacing the room worriedly, not having an idea on where she was.
Loud ringing snapped Harry out of his thoughts.
"Speaking." Mitch answered, "What? Okay. Right away. Where? Be there in 10." He said calmly then snapped the phone shut. "Miss Casey's taxi disappeared into the woods. We have a suspicion that it crashed there. I'm going there right now."
"No, I'm going with you." Harry said, bringing his coat a first aid kid along with him.
---
The car was sinking.
Hermione felt the cold water rush in through the doors, and she tried unbuckling her seatbelt, but it was jammed. The water was already to her knees as she started crying tears of frustration. She tried undoing the lock on her door, but she needed to unbuckle her seatbelt, or else the car would sink some more. It disturbed her that the first person in her mind was Harry.
Harry.
She groaned loudly, the water was to her chest. She could feel herself hyperventilate. Her screaming getting louder. "Harry!" She called. "Harry!"
"HARRY!"
The water still kept on rising, and she felt claustrophobia creeping up on her, churning her insides and making her body frailer, limp. The water was like ice, it made her teeth chatter as she thought of a way out.
---
"Oh my God." Harry muttered, seeing the mess of broken tree trunks, a car wheel lying on the side, and shards of glass on the ground.
He heard frantic screaming, and he rushed to where the sound was—the lake.
He heard her call his name.
Casey.
---
The taxi was fully submerged now, and the last hope Hermione had was that someone would come. She held her breath, but she was slowly losing air.
She heard something... a splashing sound.
Her life flashed before her very eyes... as she gave one last tug on her seatbelt that still wouldn't budge.
And then everything turned to black.
---
"CASEY!" Harry shouted, enraged as he saw a car sinking deep into the lake.
He ran, farther than his legs could handle, he felt his joints burn. He frantically took of his shirt, and his shoes. He jumped into the cold water, swimming fast.
He reached the taxi, and saw her unconscious, he felt the world end, his heart drop, and his insides burn.
But he mustn't give up.
He found a piece of metal sinking not too far from him, he grasped it hard, and gave his best blow towards the window. It cracked open, and he went in, ignoring the shards of glass that were cutting deep into his chest. He couldn't unbuckle her jammed seatbelt, so he tried carrying her—so she would slip through the seatbelt and out the window. Fortunately, it worked, and he swam towards the surface.
Finally reaching the surface, he looked for her pulse, but it was gone. She's dead. And he felt himself grow weak, he mumbled a small "Sorry." To her as he bent down to perform CPR a few number of times, and after 5 minutes of agony, she finally had a pulse. Harry lied down on his back beside her in relief as he put his shoes back on. He stood up after a few seconds, and carried her towards the 'search party', since they were still searching in the woods. Her eyes fluttered open briefly looking around, but they closed as soon as she felt a sharp pain by the side of her head.
"I need a medic here! We need to bring her to the hospital!" Harry announced, as he rushed to the car. He felt tears burn his emerald eyes.
He rushed her towards the ER. And a doctor brought helped her to a stretcher.
"What happened?" He asked.
"She drowned, I actually performed CPR on her and I got a weak pulse, I'm not sure if it's supposed to mean something but—" Harry informed.
"You did well, Mr. Potter. Now, could you please wait by the lobby?"
"I can't leave her." He began, but was cut off as soon as he opened his mouth to speak.
"We'll handle it. Now sir, please, we're losing time. She could lose a lot of blood." He told Harry, running off with some nurses who were pushing Hermione's stretcher towards a room where Harry couldn't enter.
---
Two men were in a large office, the color dark green was painted on its walls and a black carpet over the floor. There was a black desk in the middle, as well as a phone that wouldn't stop ringing. One man was standing in front of the other, who was comfortably in a chair, drinking a cup of tea. The first man felt clammy, he knew that he wouldn't be let out easily.
"She might've died." Informed the first man, he had a few cuts on his face, as well as his arms. "She turned the wheel, making us crash into the woods. I managed to escape."
"Mister McNair, the Grangers have trusted us to bring her home safely. What do you think will happen if I tell them that Miss Granger is resting 6 feet below the ground? Or the bottom of a lake perhaps?" An older man asked, infuriated. He was sitting in a large leather chair in his office, no longer drinking his tea he took a look at the bits of paper scattered on his desk. He looked like her was in his 50s, but his age was still indefinite. He looked handsome the kind where you could distinguish that he was even better looking 25 years ago, and he was now smoking an expensive cigar.
"I stayed for a while, and I saw Harry Potter with a search party enter the woods, looking for her. She'll be fine." He reasoned, calmly.
"And don't you think that you might've ruined all our chances now? She'd be guarded every second of every minute of every hour of everyday. Our client asked for stealth! And who kidnaps her without any assistance? No one would dare do that alone! And in a taxi!" The man scolded, outraged.
"Mister Riddle, I promise that next time I would—"
"There is no next time, Mister McNair. We no longer need your services." The man named 'Mister Riddle' informed. "Pack up, and return to wherever you came from. You must not tell this to anyone. If you did—well, you know that there are dire consequences." He said, rather cheerfully, picking up a knife, and throwing it at the man in front of him, missing his face by centimeters and piercing the dartboard behind him. He leaned further on to his desk, to whisper something. "We do know where you live."
The man was taken aback, but recovered easily. "Yes, sir." He nodded then headed towards the door.
"Oh, and Walden?" he called to Mister McNair, causing him to turn, "Bring in Antonin Dolohov for me. Perhaps he would suffice." Mister Riddle ordered.
"Yes sir." He said quietly.
---
Harry threw his keys angrily to the table as he went home. They treated his wounds, and hundreds of thoughts raced through his head, making him dizzy, and anxious. It was all his fault, that Casey was where she is. She wouldn't have left if he did that foolish trick on her.
Only two weeks with her, and his life had changed drastically, from breaking up with his girlfriend, to the media making more fuss about their relationship, moving away from New York, saving her life numerous times—getting his own life in danger too...
But he didn't care, she was his friend, and this is what friends do.
He buried his head into his sweaty palms, sinking next to a small table housing a lamp, and he felt hot tears burning his eyes, making them sting. It was only until a loud crashing sound echoed throughout the house, making him awake that he was violently shaking.
With rage.
It was his fault on why Casey was lying unconscious on a stretcher, with doctors hooking her up to all sorts of machines. His fault on why left in the first place. And because of him,
He could've lost her, if he hadn't come... Well, he didn't want to think about it, and open his mind to such terrifying possibilities.
"Harry?" Asked Remus, who was walking towards him. Harry looked up at him, and felt his tears slip from his grasp, rolling down his cheek.
"She drowned." He said quietly, and his voice was starting to rise. "She drowned and it was my fault. It's my fault that her frail, weak body of hers lied lifeless in my arms." He felt his eyes burn, as more tears came.
"Harry, it will be fine." Remus added meekly.
"I guess...I—never mind, how was your Chemo session?" Harry asking, changing the topic. He blinked back his tears.
"Painful." He sighed. "It's getting worse and more tiring. It's not like I'll get any better. I've accepted it, Harry. You must accept it too."
"Uncle, please, not now. Casey almost died. And I don't think that I could handle your death, as well. I'm barely standing here. The treatment will work, it will keep you healthy and you'd be better again."
"Why do you insist on this treatment? Why do you have such faith on doctors who are just as human as you and I? With all the money, and the resources... and medicine..." Remus stated, sitting down with him.
"I have faith. I know that you're going to be better. I won't rest until I know that they've finally found a cure for Leukemia. So please, Uncle Remus, don't join Uncle Sirius and mother up there." He said, gesturing to the heavens above. "Because I don't think I can handle any more heart attacks, car crashes, cancers, or drowning for that matter." His godfather, Sirius had bled in front of him when he was 11 because of a car accident, and his mother had a heart attack and was dead on arrival. He felt his eyes well up again as he thought of them.
"I can't fight for you your whole life. You've got to put some effort, too. Don't do this to me." Harry told his uncle seriously. Remus didn't speak.
"I'm a mess." Harry announced, smiling sheepishly. "Look what I've done to her, I practically got her killed."
"No you are not a mess, and you saved her!" Remus encouraged, "Thank you." He said, smiling. "I just don't want to see my dear Nymphadora suffer..."
"She's not suffering, at all." He remarked. "She's changing her hair color every two weeks! And she's really happy, trust me."
"Can I tell her?" Remus asked. It took Harry a while to realize that he meant Casey.
"No, things are too complicated for her right now." He retorted, trying to smile.
Remus patted his back encouragingly. "The nurse thinks I'm getting a glass of water, so I better be off to the kitchens now. Don't worry, Harry, it will be alright."
"Okay, get well soon." Harry said, and chuckled as he heard Remus bark with laughter.
---
"Ginny?" Draco asked, as he entered the bedroom, his face was pale, and he felt like his heart was protruding from his chest from all its rapid beating.
"Yes, love?" She answered, quite alarmed, looking up at him. "What is it?"
"It's—" He sniffed, "Hermione. I received a call from Harry and she got rush to the hospital, she drowned, and she had no pulse for a few minutes. But Harry was able to get a heartbeat when he did CPR on her. He said she'll be okay. But I don't know." He said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"You don't know how scary it was—Harry is taking this bad, even worse than I have expected, worse then I would've imagined. He's blaming everything on himself. They got into a fight and—"
"Calm down, love." Ginny's soothing voice rang in his ear. And he felt himself turn crimson red, "Hermione's a fighter. We'll get through this."
"I hope so." Draco said, turning to Ginny and kissing her. "I love you, Ginny."
She smiled sweetly at him. "I love you too."
---
I can take care of myself.
Harry just had to smile at that. Those were potentially the last words she had said—to him, at least—and it just had to be that phrase. He lets her go for a few minutes, and all of a sudden, she got herself a one-way ticket towards the bottom of the lake. She seemed to attract trouble. He pondered, what mattered most in her life was freedom, and what mattered most in his life was hapiness. But is that really all that we need?
What really does matter in life?
The amount of blood in your body, and the amount you have lost?
How healthy your heart is? Cholesterol?
Number of white blood cells you have?
Oxygen?
Her voice pulled him back into reality.
"Where am I?" She asked, trying to get up from her bed.
He sat right beside her, "The hospital. What happened, Casey? Are you alright?"
"Is everybody safe?" She whispered ignoring his questioning, he watched her eyes water.
"Yes, why wouldn't they be?"
"He—he said that he'd kill all of you if I didn't go with him." She sobbed, "I was so scared." Harry felt himself tense as he saw her tears continue to roll down her face. He wasn't always good in comforting...
"So—I, I made us crash." She said, crying hysterically. "Harry, I was scared. Then all of a sudden I was in the water, and I couldn't breathe and it was cold so I—"
"Relax, breathe. Don't hyperventilate and collapse on me." Harry said calmly. "I'm really sorry, Casey. It's my fault that you're here."
"How did I get here anyway?" She asked, relaxing. "How did you find me?"
He felt himself tense. "Mitch and the guys found you." He lied, thinking that if he told the truth, he would complicate things more.
"Oh, I'll thank them later." She chirped. She felt a pit of disappointment for an odd reason, she hadn't recalled anything since she went into the water.
"I think they need to sedate you some more." He informed, quite amused, he pressed the call button.
"I don't want to be sedated. I dreamt of unicorns, rainbows, cotton candy, and monkeys." She shuddered. "Monkeys."
"You crash a car with you in it towards the woods bravely, without any second thoughts, and I find it somehow... shocking on why monkeys scare you, out of all things."
She rolled her eyes. "Well if you want to go all 'technical'."
"What am I going to do with you?" He asked, looking at her.
"I don't know." She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Her tone suddenly becoming serious as she recalled the icy water on her skin, it made her shiver, but concealed it.
He smiled at her.
"Don't ever scare me like that." He said protectively. "Seriously, don't scare me."
"I'll try." She said, her voice weak, smiling sweetly at him.
"Do you forgive me?" Harry asked.
Hermione staggered.
---
"So, Antonin." Mr. Riddle began, leaning backwards in his leather chair, he crossed his legs professionally. "What do you have planned for our Miss Granger today?"
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Antonin replied, smiling deviously. He was young, probably in his 30s. His hair was a dark black color, neatly pressed to his forehead. His eyes were a dazzling shade of amber, similar to a snake's. He was muscle toned, but Mr. Riddle didn't pick him for his brawn, he needed a strategic man. Why would they be fussing over one girl? This caught his attention.
How good was Miss Granger?
"Surprise me."
---
A/N: I don't really know how Dolohov looks like, oh well. Let's just go with my description.
Did you guys like it? Tell me what you think. :-D
NOTE:: Just so you know, Harry is the same age as Hermione in this fic. But Hermione's actually a year older than Harry in canon. If you want to know more about it, you can search about it on google . com or wikipedia . org