Chapter Nine – Anywhere You Go, Let Me Go Too
Ron Weasley knew that there were many things in this world that he did not fully understand and he never would. He supposed that since coming to Hogwarts, he had become a bit more lazy in always expecting his best friends to figure things out and he blindly following along. In the golden trio, he certainly wasn't the brains of the operation and he fully well knew that. He was just fine with that most of the time too.
As he sat in Dumbledore's office with Harry, both listening intently to what the head master was explaining to them in regards to Hermione and Cedric Diggory, Ron couldn't help but wonder if Harry was getting a splitting headache like he was. He couldn't understand any of what was being said. Hermione and Cedric were… bound? What the bleeding hell did that mean? He heard it being explained in great detail but he couldn't seem to bring himself to grasp it. Cedric and Hermione had known one another for centuries and had shared previous lives together? That was one of the most ludicrous things Ron had ever heard and with the brothers he had, he had heard plenty of ridiculous far-fetched things in his lifetime.
This might just take the grand prize though. He stared at Dumbledore as he spoke about Hermione and Cedric and their different lives together and the effects the binding spell was having on them and though he had seen several changes in Hermione that had been cause for concern, he still couldn't believe any of what was being said. The idea of such a connection between two people – especially when Hermione was one of those two people – sounded as if it was from a work of fiction.
"Perhaps a look into the pensieve will help," Dumbledore suggested, feeling the doubt resonating from both of the young men sitting in the chairs in front of his desk. The old man stood up slowly and swept his arm out towards the pensieve located in the corner that he studied on a nightly basis, trying to get a firm understanding on the magical spell between two of his students.
Albus Dumbledore could never be confused for a fool and he knew that he was grasping at straws. The magic between Cedric and Hermione, now that they had committed the final act of the spell by giving into the blinding desire between them, was unbreakable. There was no way to break the binding. It had lasted for dozens of centuries and not even a man like Albus Dumbledore had the ability to put a stop to it. This magic would always be between them: never ending, never satisfied, always ravishing them until there was nothing else left except death until another life for them began for the magic to take over again.
"Come," Dumbledore said, guiding both boys to the pensieve. "Now, it will be hard to believe at first but everything you see has indeed already happened. Who you are seeing are in fact Hermione and Cedric but they are not the two you know now."
Harry and Ron looked at one another and Ron shook his head slightly to show his disbelief in the entire situation. Harry, on the other hand, was a bit more open to this very strange possibility. Hermione had been acting out of character lately. She was sneaking off constantly to be with Cedric, laughing at jokes no one around her could hear, writing in languages she, herself, didn't even seem to know. Ever since the second task when Cedric had rescued her from the bottom of the lake, nothing about his best friend had been the same. He needed to know why. He needed to know why Hermione had screamed Voldemort's name that night from her nightmare.
1860 – London
Emma Granger had strategically sat her daughter down at the table next to Lord Diggory for the dinner party and now, as all of the guests ate their meals, talking boisterously and laughing at political and social jokes they told one another, Emma hardly paid attention at all – which she knew was horribly rude of her but her efforts were not going to go unobserved that night.
Hermione was eighteen-years-old and it was time that the young girl get married. Lord Cedric Diggory, the only son to one of the wealthiest families in all the city, had just returned from a year-long journey to India, helping establish more lands for the Queen and Great Britain's Empire and both Emma and her husband, Robert Granger, felt that it would be a perfect match between the two. Both families had their share of wealth and power and respectability and a joining of Hermione and Cedric would simply be one made in heaven.
Cedric was highly aware of the presence of the young beauty sitting to his left. Her dress was a periwinkle blue that fit her fragile slim body perfectly, her skin was pale and flawless with a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her large brown eyes and gentle smile were both bright and inviting. Unlike all of the other women in attendance, her hair was not pulled up into some painfully tight knot on the back of her head. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in all of his years of life and travel.
He didn't mean to stare at her as they ate but he found it extremely difficult, nearly impossible, to look away from her. He probably looked like a besotted fool to the other guests in attendance but he couldn't help himself. He stared at her and for some reason, he felt… familiarity – a sense of déjà vu as if he had seen her before. He knew that the feeling wasn't a logical one. He had never seen Hermione Granger before that night and he certainly didn't know her in the way his body and mind seemed to think he did.
His fingers itched to touch her though he knew how wildly inappropriate that would be. Her father would probably do nothing else than throwing him out of the house on his arse and forbidding him to ever come near his daughter again. That was the best case scenario of what would happen if Cedric did dare to touch her right then. He clasped his hands into fists so tightly, his knuckles nearly began to turn white. It didn't matter that Cedric was an important man in the expansion of the empire or that he was in good favor with the Queen herself. What mattered was Hermione's honor and touching her would taint that. Cedric didn't want to do that to her.
For some reason, he seemed to know that she liked being kissed on the inside of her elbows and that she was ticklish behind her knees. She had a freckle on the inside of her left that it felt as if his lips always seemed instantly drawn to. How did he know all of this? He frowned to himself. He was clearly just making things up.
After the last of the plates were cleared, Hermione's mother, Emma, cleared her throat and smiled warmly at him and her daughter. "Hermione, perhaps you could show Lord Diggory the gardens? Everything has finally bloomed with the warm weather and the fresh air will be pleasant to feel after being cooped up in this dining room for so long."
Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes, knowing it wouldn't be the most lady-like of gestures, at her mother's so-called subtlety. It was no secret what Emma, and even Robert her father, were up to. They saw Cedric's title and wealth and his position – growing ever more important as the Queen's lands spread throughout the globe – in the monarchy and they immediately sought him out as their son-in-law. She was sickened by it. Didn't she have a say in any of it? Did her parents ever consider that, per chance, she didn't want to marry Cedric Diggory? She didn't even know him. Why should she feel compelled to spend the rest of her life with a stranger just for the further political and social advancement of her family?
But then as he stood up from his chair, his arm brushed against hers accidentally and she gasped, instantly bombarded with strange images in her mind of gray eyes and slightly pouted lips – lips that she knew she had kissed countless times before. Scared, startled, and oddly aroused, Hermione looked up at Cedric and saw that he was staring down at her, his eyes dark and smoldering. She shivered as she seemed to be able to read his thoughts and he was undressing her hungrily with his eyes. He had seen what she had seen – images of kissing, of naked flesh touching, of bodies joined and rocking together intimately. Both seemed to realize that the images were of the other. And just from a touch.
"Yes, mother," Hermione said, standing up, wondering how her voice wasn't shaking and she was able to not fall over despite her knees shaking beneath her dress. "I will gladly show Lord Diggory the gardens."
She left the dining room and she felt Cedric right behind her. As they walked down the hallway towards the back doors leading to the back property of her father's estate, she gasped softly when she felt his hand suddenly on her back. The way her dress was cut, the skin between her shoulder blades was exposed and he now touched her naked flesh daringly. She didn't stop him though. Her body instantly felt as if it was on fire from one touch from him. She wouldn't dream of stopping him.
"I know you," he murmured, stepping up fully behind her so her back pressed to his chest and his lips went to her ear. It didn't matter that they were standing in the hallway of her parents' house in clear vision of anyone. His mind was being taken over completely by something else and propriety was the last thing he cared about.
"How do I know you?" She asked in a breathless whisper. Her eyes closed as she felt his hands creep over her hips and rest on her stomach for a moment before slowly inching up her front to her breasts. "We've done this before."
Their hearts raced, pounded in their chests and they both breathed heavily as Hermione felt his hands and lips on her. He spun her around and her arms instantly went around his neck as he latched his mouth to hers, kissing the very breath from her lungs. It was desperate. Hungry. Neither could get close enough to the other. Her fingers gripped the hair on the back of his head and he guided her backwards until she was pressed up against the wall. Even when they could no longer breathe, they didn't stop kissing one another.
They were no longer the ones in charge of themselves.
Harry and Ron both looked away from the pensieve as their best friend quickly grew intimate with Cedric right there in the hallway of what was supposed to be her parents' home. Harry frowned as he rubbed the back of his neck. That had definitely been Hermione and Cedric but a century earlier. How was that possible? How was any of it possible? His head was beginning to hurt from thinking about it. He could only imagine how Cedric and Hermione have felt for the last few months since this magic was actually happening to them.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment at having seen Hermione in such a position. "Does it always work that… fast?"
"This is the only instance in any of their lives that the connection was almost instantaneous between them," Dumbledore said. "It usually takes a few days and occasionally, even a few weeks before the spell is at full power between them."
Harry shook his head slightly, trying to shake the vision of Hermione being shagged by Cedric up against a wall and then turned back towards the professor. "How did it end? How did this life end for them?"
"They were married within two weeks and Hermione moved to India with Cedric. They lived there for three years and they were the happiest years of their lives," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands behind his back. "But Hermione died in a terrible drowning accident and Cedric died two days later."
Harry frowned, glancing back at the pensieve before looking back at Dumbledore. "Professor? Where did this come from? Why is it Hermione and Cedric?"
"Do they…" Ron cleared his throat, frowning as well. "Die?" He asked quietly.
"Yes, unfortunately, they do. But we all die, Mr. Weasley. That's the easy part," the older, much wiser, professor said before turning his head towards Harry. "As for where and when this started… I sadly do not know that yet. There are dozens of lives to sort out and there are some that I need to study more closely. I need to understand the spell completely before I can even begin to help them."
"Do you know if they have-"
"Yes," Dumbledore answered as Ron began turning beet red from the question he had tried to ask. "They have and the spell has reached its full power because of it. Their minds and hearts are now so intricately connected, there is not a spell known to any man on how to break it. They can read each other's thoughts now. Their memories are stretching as far back as any of their lives in the past. When they are apart, their bodies experience a pain no other human being could possibly understand or relate to. If one dies, the other does not stand a chance of survival."
Harry and Ron were silent as each took in the weight of the professor's words.
Harry spoke first. "What can we do to help them, professor?"
Dumbledore stared at the two young men and smiled faintly. He knew that they would do anything to help their best friend and he knew that he could depend on them. "I just might have a plan."
Hermione moaned underneath him as his lips continued their slow torturous assault on her body as he slowly made his way down her throat to one of her breasts, her nipples hardening through the flimsy fabric of the tank top she had been sleeping in. Each time they kissed one another or were connected intimately, in the throes of making love, they always received flashes of their previous lives together and they were finally able to differentiate which vision went with each life shared. They were no longer scared or confused by these images playing out before them. They welcomed them and became excited when they discovered something new from it.
Hanging in the air above her hospital bed, Cedric could smell the sweet flowers that he smelled those months ago at the Quidditch World Cup. Smelling that exotic scent had been his first vision when he had brushed against Hermione for the first time, thoroughly confusing him, but now, he finally knew what it was from. It was from their life in India together. In the small yard of their home there in Bombay, Hermione had grown flowers everywhere and the scent would waft in through their bedroom window in the early hours of the morning and always would wake him.
Hermione had told him it was Saffron Crocus for she could sometimes smell it too. From her life in India with him, she remembered that the delicate purple flowers had always been her favorite and had planted them the most. Through the visions, she also saw that after she had drowned, during the funeral ceremony, Cedric had surrounded her body with Saffron Crocus before they had burned her to ashes. Cedric had died less than twelve hours after that and he had received the same treatment before both of their ashes were scattered into the ocean. Together.
The hospital wing was silent and dark except for their heavy panting and the red glow of their scars. Hermione's fingers found his hair, tangling in it and holding onto his head as he lavished all of his attention on her breasts for the time being. Her eyes were closed and she was so lost in the feelings that he always conjured from her that she didn't even feel as he shed them of all of their clothes. She gasped, her hands gripping his muscular biceps as he entered her with one swift, almost desperate, thrust – his body shaking with his hunger for her.
Soon he was buried deep inside her, thrusting hard against her tightness, and the hospital bed began to squeak every so slightly as their bodies moved together in perfect harmonization. Sitting up on his knees, he wrapped his arms around her legs and lifted them over his shoulders, pushing himself deeper into her. He stared down at the girl beneath him. Her brown curls were in complete disarray on her pillowcase and her entire body glistened with sweat, from her gentle face to her round breasts and hard nipples. And then there was the opening between her legs, always ready for him, tight and wet, soaked with her desire for him that matched his own for her. It felt like her entire body was pulsing around his hardness and with each thrust into her, he could feel her tightening. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Her thighs began to tremble from their perch on his shoulders. He raised his hands to steady them and keep them from slipping off his body. Neither thought of anyone walking in on them. Neither could think of anything except of each other.
He drove into her harder and groaned as he heard her moan his name out again. He couldn't get enough of her and yet he could feel the blood gathering in his throbbing member and the familiar hot rush that drove him wild. He lowered her thighs and wrapped them around his waist, bending down to kiss her lips as he pushed deep into her. Their bodies rubbed and moved together. Every stroke sent a wave through her body that rushed through her nerves and escaped from her mouth as a moan. Cedric pounded deep into her, nearly hitting her cervix with each thrust, causing her to gasp with surprise and caught each of her exhales in his own mouth as he kissed her hard.
"Hermione," he whispered. "Hermione." He buried his face into her neck and sucked on her skin as he increased his speed to finish off. When the final thrust crashed into her tight, sensitive walls, Cedric moaned into the nape of her neck, "'Mione…"
"Cedric!" Hermione cried out as she clutched his body close to hers, she could feel his hot seed filling her and his warm cock throbbing inside her body. Cedric kissed her face everywhere that his lips could reach as their bodies both quaked from their simultaneous orgasms. They always came together. Every time.
"I love you," she whispered, her legs and arms still wrapped tightly around him, her breathing slowly – ever so slowly – returning to normal. Cedric lifted his head to see that she was crying but she shook her head and smiled. "That feels so insufficient. I love you. There should be something much stronger that I can say to you instead."
Cedric smiled, brushing a light kiss across her lips. He didn't say it but she knew that he felt the exact same way.
Both fell completely still, their lips still connected but their eyes widening, when suddenly, throughout the silence of the hospital wing, the cries of a baby echoed. Cedric lifted his head and though he knew that there wouldn't be around, he looked around at the empty room around them nonetheless. Another cry of an infant rang out and Hermione took in a shaky breath.
"Cedric," she whispered and he turned his head to look at her. "It's our baby."