Moments of Sanity
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Matter of Time
Unconsciousness was bliss.
Bliss that she was pulled from all too soon. She felt magic course through her, and knew that she had been magically revived. Her body ached and her mind swam with broken images that she couldn't piece together. She heard voices around her, and she wanted to close herself off, hide from the world. But something remained niggling at her subconscious, refusing to allow her to drift back into the realm of sleep unhindered by time or emotion.
"Hermione, dearest." The voice was undoubtedly belonging to Mrs. Weasley. And she yearned to bury herself in the woman's arms, and retrieve all the comfort the Weasley matriarch had to offer.
"Wake up, honey."
She opened her eyes, the bright lights causing a stabbing headache to develop just above her eyebrows. She squeezed her eyes shut again, hoping to dispel the pain, but the damage was done. She felt a cool cloth being placed on her forehead, and the sensation was wonderful.
She heard Mrs. Weasley tutting to what was probably a room full of redheads, "Look at the poor thing. She can barely move. If Harry hadn't shown up when he did…" she trailed off ominously.
The floodgates opened, memories, emotions, and pain weaving together to form the picture of the previous happenings, of her attack. She felt the bile rise in her throat, and swallowed it back. But the foul taste remained on her tongue.
And then Mrs. Weasley's last sentence caught up with her.
Harry.
Her eyes flew open, the shock of the light nothing compared to the wave of panic that ripped through her. She groaned. Harry wasn't here.
"Where?" She asked. Her voice was raspy, and her throat too dry.
Ron quickly offered her the end of a white straw protruding from a small plastic cup. She drank quickly, more out of need than want.
Then she tried again. "Harry?"
"Oh dear. He should be here at any time. He's been so busy the last few days, I don't think he's slept at all. He's always either at your side or at the Ministry."
Hermione's face paled.
The Ministry.
Lucius had been captured, and of course, Harry would see to his trial and execution immediately. What if Lucius had been telling the truth. Could she be too late? Could the spell already have a permanent hold over Draco?
Mrs. Weasley continued, "Took four days to try Lucius Malfoy. There was so much evidence to go through, so many testimonies."
Four days? Had she been out that long.
"They've declared him guilty, you'll be happy to know. Still haven't done the sentencing though. Harry wanted you awake first, I think."
She felt tears prick at her eyelids. There was still time. But time for what? She couldn't delay Lucius's inevitable execution forever, and what solution was there? But she'd take any time she could have, enough time for a kiss, enough time to hold him while he still knew her name.
At that moment, the knob rattled and the door creaked open. Harry stepped inside, looking weary, and almost as though the war had ended the day before instead of years ago. Her heart sped up involuntarily and she gripped the sheets tightly in her fists. She remembered the way he'd thrown Lucius against the wall, a former Death Eater like little more than a rag doll under his control.
He didn't look at her. He whispered something first to Ron, who clapped an encouraging hand on his shoulder. Then he informed Molly of something. He looked towards her then, but not directly at her.
"How are you feeling?"
She had difficulty making her mouth work when all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and hide beneath her covers.
"Fine," she whispered.
He looked different. He wasn't quite as intimidating as he had been over the last few weeks, but he wasn't quite himself either, as though trapped in a limbo between the darker and lighter sides of his own self.
She noticed that the rest of the family had moved into a corner across the room, attempting to give them some privacy, as much privacy as a family that large could give.
He looked at her then, his deep green eyes haunted with both pain and anger.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again.
She tried not to let her gaze waver, not to show her fear. He held himself stiffly, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, and she heard the question that he didn't ask. She noticed the Weasleys beginning to file out of the room, Molly giving her a quick smile and mouthing that they'd just be waiting outside. She waited until the last redhead disappeared from view before speaking.
"I'm not under any spell, Harry, if that's what you want to know."
He slumped slightly, looking as though she'd just granted him the thing that he both longed and loathed to hear. She wondered idly for a moment if she should have lied to provide a bit more time, but quickly decided that the truth was for the best. If they thought her under a dark spell by one of the last roaming Death Eaters, it would be nigh impossible to escape from her room long enough to make her way to the Permanent Ward.
"So it's true then?"
She didn't understand his question, scanning her memory for some hint.
"There is a spell?" he asked.
And she remembered. Before Lucius had attacked her, she had retrieved her notes, the books from Malfoy Manor, and Draco's bottomless black bag. All three were left out in the open, spread haphazardly on her bed, which meant all three would have been privy to Harry's perusal.
She considered lying, but found that she couldn't. So she nodded.
"All this time?" he asked, "All that time at the hospital… it was all with him?" The venom in his voice made her recoil, sinking further into the mattress beneath her.
"Harry, it's not what you think." She replied, "He's different now."
He held his hand up sharply, silencing her.
"I can't believe you would do this to me, 'Mione. That you would betray me like this."
Her face paled, "What are you talking about?"
"Don't do that!" He raised his voice, and then seemed to remember, shrinking back into himself, and it reminded her of the heavy settling of volcanic ash that lasted for days after an eruption. The real Harry, the Harry she knew, seemed buried under the remnants of the rage that had possessed him of late. He returned to a whisper. "Don't play dumb with me, Hermione. I examined Lucius's memories of the attack myself. I saw the things he saw when he used Legilimency on you. I saw you kiss Draco Malfoy."
She had no reply, but she refused to be ashamed. She kept her chin up, and met his gaze with determination, noting with confusion that Harry looked nearly as pale as she felt. His expression was one of resignation and sorrow that seemed to seep from every pore. But she couldn't pity him now; she didn't have any pity to spare.
He waited for her to say something, to deny it, but when she didn't, his face hardened into stone. She felt her features take on a similar mask, determinedly unaffected and unyielding. He stared at her for a moment longer, all traces of warmth gone from his gaze, before turning towards the door.
"The Kiss is scheduled to take place in two hours. I'll relay your inability to attend to the Ministry. Your testimony was not needed to condemn Malfoy, but they'll be wanting to ask you some questions, regardless."
She didn't see his hand move, but suddenly the door was swung open a little too forcefully and it rebounded off the wall, the hinges groaning at the movement, and he was gone. The door swung shut, sealing her inside with nothing but silence for comfort. She blinked and her resolve crumbled. A strangled howl forced its way from her mouth, and her ribs ached as her body shook with great rasping sobs. She tried to draw in a breath, but it was as though her lungs refused to cooperate. Her chest rose and fell with the familiar action, but there was no relief, no satisfying the burning in her chest.
She felt a hand close around hers, and she looked up to see Luna hovering beside her, her stomach protruding slightly from pregnancy and her hands looked a bit swollen. She glanced around in fear, wondering how she would explain her reaction to the rest of the Weasleys, but they were alone. She looked back into Luna's wide, blue eyes, and the first tear fell. Luna was quick to wipe it away, and with an agility Hermione wouldn't have thought possible by a woman with child, Luna maneuvered herself onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Hermione in a soothing hug.
Luna whispered something in her ear, but Hermione couldn't hear her over her own weeping. She whispered it a few more time before Hermione comprehended her words.
"What can I do?"
She looked at Luna through tear-clouded eyes, unsure if the woman knew exactly what she was offering. Hermione glanced briefly at the door and Luna seemed to understand.
"Where do you need to go? Can I take you anywhere?"
Relief flooded her so strongly that it was nearly palpable, and Hermione didn't waste another moment.
"I need to get to the Permanent Ward. No one can know or follow, not even Ron."
There was no hesitation on Luna's part as she quickly retrieved the wheel chair from the corner of the room, and with the flick of her wand, levitated Hermione from the bed into the chair.
Hermione resisted the desire in her chest to demand they hurry. Luna was going as fast as she could, and now was not the time to be ungrateful.
"What will you tell them?" Hermione asked fearfully.
"Don't you worry about that, Hermione. I'll take care of it. You haven't got much time, I suggest you use it to think of what you're going to say."
Hermione couldn't… wouldn't take the time to decipher Luna's words or ponder how much her bizarre friend knew about her situation because she was right. There was so very little time. What could she possibly say to him?
There were three words that neither of them had spoken as of yet. But suddenly those three words that before had seemed so intimidating couldn't quite cover what she needed to tell him. It wasn't enough that she loved him.
"Gods, I love him," she whispered in disbelief. The tears filled her eyes. "Luna, I love him."
This wasn't fair. She loved him and she only had two hours left with him before… before something happened.
"I know, honey." Her voice was quiet, and she allowed Hermione a moment before she opened the door.
The Weasleys were all there waiting with looks ranging from pity to confusion.
"I'm just going to take Hermione for a walk. I think she's been cooped up in that room long enough," Luna explained.
"Here," Ron moved forward. "I'll go with you."
"It's fine, Ronald. I wanted to talk to Hermione about the pregnancy so far, and you wouldn't want to hear about all that girl stuff. You've already had to experience it first hand."
There was a slight edge to her voice, and Ron immediately backed away. It appeared as though he'd been on the receiving end of more than one hormonal mood swing, and wasn't looking to endure another.
"That's--that's great, love. Just don't be too long."
Luna only smiled in response before lazily pushing Hermione's wheelchair down the hall. As soon as they rounded the corner, Luna's pace quickened. She was bent over at a slightly awkward angle to prevent her stomach from hitting the back of the wheelchair, but it didn't seem to deter her movement. They were in the elevator faster than Hermione would have thought possible.
The lift wouldn't move fast enough. And Hermione's heart seemed to swell in her chest as the seconds ticked away. She couldn't help but think of all the time they'd wasted. She'd spent hours upon hours in Draco's company doing absolutely nothing of consequence, and now she had a mere two hours to cram in what should have been a lifetime of interaction.
There would be nothing for them beyond those two hours—no wedding, no home, no future.
The ding of the elevator roused her from her thoughts, as they exited onto the fourth floor.
"Wait." Hermione said, "How did you know where to go?"
Luna only shrugged her off. "Janus Thickey Ward, right? Long-term patients?"
Hermione could only nod. Luna's knowledge was confusing, but she couldn't dwell on it, because she could see the ward at the end of the hallway. Luna covered the ground quickly, and it was time, they were here.
"Stop." Hermione said. "Stop here."
Luna stopped the wheelchair in the middle of the hallway, the door to Draco's ward standing on her left. She couldn't go in there like this. She didn't know how he would react to seeing her wheeled into his room, and she didn't want him to see her like this. She braced herself on the arms of the chair, pushing upwards with all of her strength. She winced, the formerly broken bones in her hand and wrist still slightly tender. Luna moved around to the side, helping her up. Hermione sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the pain in her side. She could do this. What was a little physical pain compared to what she was about to experience?
She took a step forward, and Luna moved to follow, but Hermione waved her off. She needed to do this alone. If these were to be their last moments together, she would make them as wonderful as possible. She would need the good memories if she was to go the rest of her life without him.
She had a little less than two hours now. And in that time, her eyes would be only for him, she would breathe because he breathed, and her heart would beat solely because his did as well. Time belonged only to them. It was theirs to do with as they wished. For somehow, knowing that their time was finite in nature seemed to make the possibilities of the moment all the more infinite.
For everything there is a season,
And a time for
every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A
time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to
kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to
build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn,
and a time to dance;
A time to throw away stones, and a time to
gather stones together;
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain
from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
A time to
keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to
sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to
love, and a time to hate,
A time for war, and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
A/N: I had intended this chapter to be much longer, but unfortunately, I'm rather swamped at the moment finishing up my independent studies, so I was left with two choices. I could wait until I'd finished my two research papers to finish the chapter and then update, which could take anywhere from one to two weeks, or I could cut this chapter in half and update now so that you lovely people didn't have to wait. I hope I made the right decision. :)
Unless, I decide to split the very last chapter in to two parts as I did for this one, there are only two chapters left in this story. This story has been with me nearly from the beginning, the earliest draft having been started in 2004. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and it is both exciting and petrifying. I hope that you all have enjoyed the journey as much as I.
Now, I'll try to stave off the inevitable emotions until the last chapter, but I do want to sincerely thank all my reviewers, some of which have been around so long that they can remember that first draft in 2004! And I must offer my sincerest gratitude to Eilonwy, my marvelous beta, who has bettered this story more than I can say. What I can say though with complete honesty is that I never would have gotten to the end of this story without your help, so I thank you.
Love you all! Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated! (And will be greatly missed when this story has reached its end.)
