Three droplets of blood

A/N: Hello! Now... I have the feeling that some of you will hate this chapter and me in the process- I don't want to say anything that will actually spoil the chapter- but try not to! Keep reading until the end and you'll find a more 'detailed' explanation on the second A/N; I don't want to lose you guys! Maybe I'm overreacting, but I'd rather let you know how I feel. I'm really, really nervous on what you'll think of this. And now, dearly hoping you don't tell me to piss off and that you will not give up on this story... Read on!

Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own the characters. The plot is mine...

"I'm planning my release
Tonight I'll speak the words I never
thought I'd ever have to say to you

For a moment you might see me.

One more thing that you should know
I'm not ever coming home..."

"Never Coming Home"- Crossfade.

-+-

She let time pass. She let her feelings grow up and strong; she planned things carefully and coldly; she pushed away everything and everybody, for she could not and did not want to be saved. The trip to Knockturn Alley had been done months ago, and everything was at ready.

Except for one thing. One tiny, little, and tremendously significant detail. If Hermione messed up this step of the plan, everything could be ruined. And it was just her luck that this was one of the most crucial steps. When she read the black book, that particular paragraph explaining what she had to do, Hermione had thought it was a joke. It simply had to be. She had spent one or two nights awake, trying to come up with a different possibility, but there was nothing for it.

If Hermione wanted to carry this through, she'd have to do it. But how could she be so heartless? How would she muster the courage and look at Harry in the eye? Did she really want this plan to work?

Yes.

To what length would she go? Hermione hated magic sometimes. Almost everything had to do with feelings... Why? Why couldn't it be cold and calculating? Well, if she looked at it from the logical point of view, it was cold, bordering on the line of cruelty. It wasn't as if she was going to AK Harry... But to Hermione, she really was going to do so. So if certain people were able to Crucio someone until they had lost their minds, or kill just for the spite of killing with the Avada Kedavra, why couldn't Hermione do what the book was telling her to do? She may be angry, she may be depressed, but she still had a heart, didn't she?

Her birthday was near. Two days from now... Curfew was coming. Hermione had taken up as calling it 'her curfew' because she didn't like the term 'suicide'. It was like some sort of dead man walking, except it was curfew time. She had two days to think this over. Hermione knew she could pretend that nothing had ever happened and try to carry on with her life...

But the book was still there, tempting her... And her life had died... Hermione cradled her head in her hands and closed her eyes tightly. Why? Why did it have to be this way...? Physically and mentally, she was ready. Emotionally? Yes, she was. But that didn't mean that she was ready to do what she had to do, in order for everything to work out.

-+-

The time had come. Her birthday was here. And as Hermione sat on the worn steps of Grimmauld Place, indecision and guilt consumed her. The clear sky was beginning to sport stars, and all that was left of the sun were stripes of violet and light pink painted in the sky. This was it; what would she do? Forget all about it, try to move on; or carry on with her plan, leaving emotion and feelings aside? Hermione knew perfectly well that she couldn't wait anymore...

You will make it up to him, Hermione, you will. But how can I sink so low? If you carry on with this, what you lost three years ago will be found again... Are you going to let this pass you by? He'll be happy, and eventually he'll forget about you. Don't forget what you're giving to him... Besides, you won't be around anymore. It's not like you're going to care... You'll be dead...

For a couple of seconds, the balance between those two feelings made Hermione almost wail, feeling tortured. When Hermione lifted her eyes, there was nothing in them. Not any emotion, not any pain. She breathed in deeply and turned to the door. Taking out her wand, she pointed the tip to the lock and the doorknob turned, shining blue for a second. Hermione stepped inside and found that none of the lights were on; she frowned. She had merely taken two steps when...

"SURPRISE!" At least ten voices shouted all together, as Hermione jumped out of her skin and all the lights in the house lit up at the same time. Hermione barely had time to register what was going on when Ginny ran to her and almost knocked her over.

"Happy birthday, Hermione! Twenty years old!" She exclaimed, kissing her cheek.

"Um- Th- Thanks," Hermione stuttered, smiling, as Luna hugged her and kissed her cheek. Streamers and confetti were strewn all over the living room; a pile of presents rested on the couch; a table nearby was overcrowded with candies, butterbeers, a big, white cake and plastic glasses.

"Happy Birthday," Ron told her, kissing her on the cheek, and Hermione stared, slightly open mouthed, at the people crowding the living room.

"You didn't have to do this," she told him barely above a whisper, guilt eating her insides. Harry came over and hugged her.

"You're worth it, Hermione." He told her with a grin. Hermione lowered her eyes but chose not to say anything. The room was full: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco, Tonks, Lupin, Luna, Fred and George, with their respective girlfriends, Neville, and some other Hogwarts ex students who had survived the War. All smiling and cheerful, happy and expectant of Hermione, who once again found herself tortured by her dilemma. She didn't deserve all of this. And no matter what Harry said, she was not worthy of any of them.

-Flashback-

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, running over to the corner where Hermione was sitting. Hermione shook her head and continued sobbing, hiding her face beneath her hands. "Oh, Merlin," Ginny breathed, putting her arm around Hermione's shoulder. "No one has died, right?" This question did not sound surprising or shocking anymore, for they were at open war.

"Goodness, no," Hermione choked. "I'm just- just being silly-"

"Want to talk about it?" Ginny asked her friend gently.

"I turn seventeen today." Hermione replied, breaking into a new wave of sobs. Ginny raised her eyebrows and bit her lower lip.

"Oh, I'm so sorry- Happy birthday! Is that why you're crying? I'm so sorry I forgot, Herm-"

"It's not- It's not that," Hermione replied, smiling bitterly.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm of age today..." Hermione trailed off, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. She knew it was stupid, crying like this over her birthday- But today, today... If Sirius had been alive... She would've been legal... Still too young, she knew, but still legal... Oh, if he would be alive! "I'm just being silly..." Hermione added quickly, shaking her head and trying to calm down. "I'll be alright in a second."

-End flashback-

Since that day, Hermione found her birthdays to be too painful, so it didn't come as a shocker how surprised she was when she stepped inside the house today. But now, on top of the repulsion she had for her own birthday, new feelings were also added to the mix: she felt guilty, she felt like a backstabber, and she also hated this date because it meant of another year of life. But for everyone else's sakes, Hermione put on a brave smile and joined the celebrations, laughing and grinning widely every time she received a present; trying with her whole soul to push other feelings aside.

-+-

Her mind was as silent as she had always wanted it to be; her soul was empty, and her pupils were dilated. If she had ever wanted to learn Oclummency, the state of her emotions at this precise moment would've been ideal. Hermione stared at the chimney in front of her fixedly; the party had ended half an hour ago; it was nearly three in the morning...

Would she do it? Would she? Hermione closed her eyes and her brow furrowed sorrowfully. Be cold and logical. You can do this. You're strong, you're strong...

"So? Did you have a good time?" Harry's voice broke her concentration as he flopped down on the couch, next to her. Hermione gazed at him, and her heart broke when she saw his smile.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," she replied quietly, trying to not make her voice tremble. She couldn't do this... "I didn't deserve it," Hermione admitted, looking at the chimney again. She was a backstabber, a monster...

"I've already told you that you do deserve it," Harry replied, his voice stern. "Don't ever doubt it." Hermione's lips tensed and she had to suppress the urge to cry or run away and never look back... Probably both. Don't do this to me, Harry... Why can't you be mean? Why can't you make me hate you?

"Things aren't what they seem," Hermione finally said tiredly.

"What do you mean?" Harry wanted to know. Hermione slowly lifted her eyes to meet Harry's and gulped; without replying, she moved to lay her head on Harry's shoulder. After a minute, she felt Harry warily moving his arm to circle her shoulders. Hermione knew that she had advantage here; Harry fancied her... She closed her eyes and felt nauseated with herself. You're a monster, a monster... You're heartless... They were in silence for a while, just laying there on the couch.

If you're going to do it, then do it now.

"Harry, can I ask you something personal?" Hermione began, attempting to look carefree instead of guilty and full of self hatred.

"Of course you can," he retorted with a smile. Yes, Hermione thought as she tried to swallow. He's smitten with me.

"Why did you break up with Ginny?" At this question, Harry raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"I had bigger things to do, and I didn't want her to be involved. Why?" He questioned. Hermione lowered her gaze to his chest, where she began tracing patters with her index finger.

"Do you still have feelings for her?" she decided to ask, looking up at him. Please, don't see it in my eyes... She prayed over and over again. Harry examined her closely, and Hermione began panicking inside. Did he suspect something? Had he sensed her discomfort?

"No," he answered in the end. "I lost interest in her long ago." Hermione nodded and again laid her head on his shoulder, still tracing her index finger up and down on Harry's chest. She felt sick. "Can I ask you something personal?" Harry's voice floated above her, as he lightly curled his fingers around her curls. Hermione nodded but didn't say anything; she didn't trust her voice to keep up with the pretence. "Why did you break up with Ron?"

"Well..." she started, clearing her throat. "We fought too much... But he realized that I was in love with... with someone else," she said, fighting with the knot in her throat. Yes, even Ron had realized she was still in love with a person that had long been dead.

"I see... And who was that someone?" Harry asked. Hermione's insides began tossing and turning, heightening the feeling of nausea... Her hands started trembling slightly. Monster, monster, you're a monster... Forgive me, Harry, forgive me... Help me, comfort me, stop me from feeling what I'm feeling now... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

"Oh, you know him," Hermione replied, boring her eyes into his and smiling slightly. How could she be doing this?! Harry gulped.

"Do I?" He asked, and Hermione nodded. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me... She hated herself so much; her skin started to crawl with the hatred... If she didn't deserve death before, she deserved it now. Hermione was suddenly glad that she was killing herself, for she would not be able to live with the pain of what she was about to do. "Hermione..." Harry's voice was thick and nervous; Hermione put her finger on his lips and smiled again.

"Shh..." she cooed before leaning in and kissing him.

-+-

The black shadows of the wall and ceiling seemed to laugh at her in the darkness, and she didn't complain, for she deserved it. Her body shook uncontrollably, as if it also felt horrified. Her eyes were wide open, as though she had just killed her own son- terrified. An arm sneaked around her waist, but she didn't feel the touch. She couldn't feel anything anymore. She was lying on her side, hugging herself, as still as a wooden plank.

She had done it. She had slept with Harry... Her eyes burned and stung, but she would not blink. Even the tears that were starting to form and fall to the mattress felt heavy... They were full of dismay and horror; full of hatred... There was nothing inside... Nothing alive... How could she... How could she...? Hermione felt possessed as she untangled herself from Harry's grip, not wanting to wake him up. There was only one thing left to do.

As lightly as a ghost she treaded the path towards her own room and, once inside, grabbed a small crystal glass, a pin, and her wand from her desk. Had she lost her sense of touch, too? Why couldn't she feel the things she held in her hands? Closing her door after her, she returned to Harry's room. Her eyes were still wide and empty... Her mind was blank; she couldn't even think. Very carefully and softly, she grabbed Harry's hand and pointed the tip of her wand over his index finger.

"Inmmuny," she whispered; the finger glowed silver for a second. Hermione then grabbed the pin and lightly pressed the tip on the skin until it broke, a small droplet of blood forming around it. Hermione took hold of the petite glass and positioned it under Harry's finger. She waited until three droplets of the red liquid had fallen inside of it and then left the glass on the bedside table, doing the same with the pin and wand. Then she proceeded to grab the sheet and gently wrapped it around Harry's finger, waiting for the small injury to close. The spell would lift in a few hours.

Was she dead already? It felt as though she was a shadow, a ghost... An empty shell. Had a Dementor kissed her? From the way she was feeling, it was quite probable.

Once the finger had stopped bleeding, Hermione retrieved the glass, pin and wand from the bedside table and once more went to her room. She threw her wand and the pin on her bed and, tightly clutching the glass with Harry's blood in it, moved over to her closet. She opened the door and her fingers found the old silver goblet, with the Black family crest embossed on it, and carefully took it out. The liquid inside of the goblet looked a lot like Veritaserum, but it was even more transparent. Sometimes, it looked like the goblet was simply empty... Hermione raised the glass and let Harry's three droplets of blood fall into the potion, which glowed and then turned completely black; it glowed again and adopted the same scarlet shade of blood.

Without so much as a blink, Hermione returned the goblet to the same place in which it had been hidden before, and turned to grab a long and old sweatshirt from the lower drawers. She put it on slowly and went out of her room, closing it behind her. Hermione let her feet carry her wherever they wanted and she found herself in front of Sirius's bedroom.

She felt like a puppet as an invisible string pulled her arm up and made her turn the doorknob- The strings moved again and she walked inside, closing the door. She blinked once and slumped against the wall, purposely hitting her head against it, and slid to the floor with a hollow 'THUD'. After that she just sat there, unmoving, staring fixedly at something unseen, sprawled on the dusty floor. She knew she wanted to cry, but her body didn't let her.

Tears sometimes meant sadness, sometimes happiness. They could mean anger, regret, forgiveness, guiltiness; they had a thousands meanings.

The problem was that Hermione wasn't sure if empty shells were allowed to cry.

-+-

A/N: Well, now that the chapter has finished, I can explain a little bit better about Harry and Hermione- I didn't want to spoil anything at the beginning. First and foremost, this will NOT turn into a H/Hr story! Everything about this will be explained in the upcoming chapters... Please keep in mind who Harry is and how he is related to Sirius! Changing subjects, I hope that you review and tell me what you thought of the chapter! Until next chapter... Bye!