she doesn't look, she doesn't see..

opens up for nobody…

figures out, she figures out…

narrow line, she can't decide..

everything short of suicide…

never hurts, nearly works..

somethin' is scratchin' its way out..

somethin' you want to forget about…

~Little House by The Fray

xv. seizure of power

Pounding, slamming, thumping, beating, thrashing against the black tiled floor – Fleur was a transparent chameleon while she followed after the group, right on Hermione's heel while they ran through the Department of Mysteries, away from the endless drops and falls and near topaz thunderstorm of crystal orbs against a sea of powdery black and blue. A wand of rosewood flicked behind her rushing body, keeping the storm far from Hermione's way, more so than anyone else. An unfamiliar stab of fear ripped throughout whenever the girl would whip around with such an expression of horror upon her face while she and her friends continued to run and run and run, Harry at the fore with the prophecy in his large hand.

No one seemed to notice the sound of a ravaging sound of out of place heels upon the tiles while they ran; no one had noticed any bit of rosewood flicking about at Death Eaters in their direction, keeping them away. Hermione in particular was held with the most regard in terms of her safety by Fleur, despite Fleur having been ordered by Snape and McGonagall to keep them all safe in compliance with her duties with the Order that was soon on their way.

Fleur made sure to follow orders exactly, most especially in the same moment that they all passed through the door seemingly leading them to safety, only to have them all fall down a near endless valley of black. Rosewood flicked itself again, even with the owner experiencing a near seizure from the sudden plunge on top of the collective wails of surprise from her younger schoolmates. Just as soon as they all hit rock bottom, Fleur made it so that they all stopped just inches from the ground to avoid terrible injury or, worse, death. Hermione in particular fell to the ground softly while everyone else landed with a non-injuring thud, Fleur herself landing gracefully on her two heeled feet. Harry led them all further up the rocky hill, towards a large, smoky-coloured veil, claiming to hear voices. Luna, as well as Fleur, could hear them too – to Fleur they sounded much like her family. She quickly shook the notion from her head the second she heard a pair of footsteps and an annoying cane clank atop the ground.

While her classmates whipped around to face Lucius Malfoy, they were also surrounded by a bout of jetting darkness, propelling them to the ground and whipping their hair and clothes about while they fell powerlessly to the stony ground. Fleur immediately flourished her wand in Hermione's direction, Summoning her forth, eliciting a look of great confusion upon her face while the jets of darkness continued to flutter ceaselessly throughout the chamber. Fleur had forgotten that she was Disillusioned, and didn't even think before she wrapped her arms about Hermione as a safe haven while the black automatically dissolved in four directions – Harry was left alone while his friends were each being held hostage by Death Eaters about the room. He first looked at Hermione incredulously who was clearly being held by a pair of invisible arms, but his direction automatically turned to Lucius Malfoy approaching him and making sly small talk before demanding the orb in his hand.

Hermione was thankfully not struggling in Fleur's arms, instead enraptured by the sight before her of Harry clearly being convinced that it was in his best interest to hand Lucius the prophecy. Fleur looked about the room, knowing Hermione could hear her shallow breaths echoing in her throat and chest, but now was not the time to fear this fact; her safety was important to Fleur. Any second now, Fleur thought to herself… Any second, they ought to be arrive…

And it seemed as if the second Harry handed the orb to Lucius did white hot flashes of shadows appear throughout the room, echoing nicely in Fleur's ears while she gently pulled Hermione back behind a sharp boulder – the Order had arrived. Hermione's friends were soon disentangled from their respective Death Eaters, the Death Eaters themselves soon engaged in duels with the Order. Fleur let Hermione free when McNair in particular noticed something odd about how Hermione was standing, suspecting a Disillusioned helper. Fleur but flicked and swished her wand in his direction and he was sent flying, gone among the sea of jetting black and white crashing so starkly against each other while they duelled. Fleur herself morphed into the white of her comrades, keeping Hermione from further danger when but more Death Eaters came to find the source of alarm.

They were soon taken care of, and Fleur checked by the veil to make sure that Harry and Sirius were doing all right before helping Hermione to the safety of the Atrium. However, she stopped in her tracks, seeing Bellatrix Lestrange in their way. Hermione and Fleur both froze, but Bellatrix did not notice them – she had her wide, blood-shot eyes under a hazardous black sea of ivy for hair right upon Sirius Black. Not even seconds after Sirius had successfully fed off Lucius did Bellatrix send a flash of green light in his direction, freezing his body and sending him floating into the veil, never to return. Hermione tried to struggle against the invisible arms wrapped about her, but Fleur held her tighter, shutting her eyes and shaking her head at the sound of Harry's cries of anguish while the battles continued still.

Bellatrix gave a false look of coyness to Harry when the boy made eye contact with her, but she quickly grinned and slipped off in the direction of the Atrium. Hermione was now to the point of yelling at the invisible person to let her go just as Harry passed them, running after Bellatrix, but Fleur kept still and did not let her go. Fleur shut her eyes against the back of Hermione's head, struggling to hold on to her while Hermione continued to writhe and squirm still, demanding answers of her identity and why they were holding her back when Sirius had been killed just now. Fleur could tell that Hermione had stopped at intervals to move her hands as much as possible to get a feel for her, and she did this much when Fleur had to lunge down to duck for cover against a spell sent their way. Hermione managed to grab a handful of robes and rubbed them between her tainted hands; surely they felt expensive. Fleur nearly jumped when Hermione braved a hand down her thigh; Fleur was wearing a skirt and soon Hermione was touching bare skin.

Hermione stopped searching for answers and struggling at this juncture. More time had passed with them simply lying on the stone floor, Fleur holding Hermione in her arms to keep her out of harm's way while the battles raged on. Fleur automatically had an inkling from the start to keep Hermione sheltered more so than the others, to keep her the safest, protect her with more care – but why? Fleur chose not to ponder why while she kept holding Hermione with all of her willpower, and then some, trying to keep her from the spells sent just over their heads and the rubble flying about from curses hitting the rocks nearby. Fleur looked at Hermione's nearly frazzled head of hair questioningly when the girl began to tremble, and it took a moment for her to realise that Hermione was crying – crying over the loss of Sirius, over Harry's sorrow, over the situation, her frustration with her protection and or captivation. Fleur swallowed and placed her lips upon Hermione's in a soothing manner while she tightened her hold so that it was a bit more subdued and tender.

To Fleur's great surprise, Hermione actually wrapped her arms about Fleur's in a thankful gesture and continued to sob quietly while the sounds of battle continued to echo horribly around them. Fleur, though she was providing great protection to Hermione, felt rather powerless. She thought back to Sirius, the last moment – a horrible reflection passed upon her and she held Hermione tighter still. Fleur knew she had no time to grieve, and was instead supposed to be helping her schoolmates as instructed. The duelling around them slowly came to a stop, and Fleur helped both Hermione and herself up while she did a general survey of the room – Neville, Ron, Ginny and Luna were unscathed save for passing cuts and bruises. Hermione still continued to hold onto the arms wrapped about her waist, and Fleur wondered whether to let her go or not. She tried to do so, but Hermione was determined to hold on to her. Fleur sighed inwardly and led her backwards out to the Atrium, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville in tow.

Soon afterwards, the six fifth years were all in the large, destroyed Atrium. Harry was upon the ground, surrounded by a field of what appeared to be a whirlpool dust, Dumbledore kneeled sadly at his side – the boy appeared to have been experiencing a seizure not too long before. Fleur could almost feel the sorrowful expression that was on Hermione's face in her body – the girl felt hollow all of a sudden, much colder. The body of Lord Voldemort appeared right behind Dumbledore, and a flood of fear surfaced throughout Fleur's body while she watched with a horrendous amount of hatred as the man's body slowly became more and more full and concrete. Before his body finally did materialise, however, Harry and Dumbledore both shot Killing Curses at it.

The consequence of doing this was dire, though no one could notice but one person.

Harry was being possessed by Voldemort during his seizure; Voldemort's soul had left his body in order to do the victimising. By killing his body, this left Voldemort no place to return to except for another. Another whom he'd sensed immediately by the mild flutters of her thrall that were immune to her schoolmates due to heightened fears and arousal leaving no room for Fleur's to soothe them. Voldemort's soul rejoiced merrily, though still damning his Death Eaters for not following orders – they did not kill this one. This one whose thrall his soul could live off of for plenty of time to come. Voldemort quickly shot through Fleur's body with an invisible cackle while the rest were busy taking in the slow relief that Voldemort's body had fallen. His soul had not, however. It most certainly did not…

Lord Voldemort had possessed Fleur, who had a vast degree of control over herself that she did not notice a thing at all. Fleur who was holding Hermione, Hermione who was giving her warmth and letting the woman's barriers down just enough to allow for Voldemort's entry. Fleur did not notice a thing, and continued to hold Hermione while she too felt oceans of relief overtake her from the knowledge that Voldemort was dead. Dead…if only for the time being.

Dead now, only to reawaken within her, inside of her, once the time was right…

It was late May that Hermione was sitting in the Hospital Wing that night, holding onto an icy cold hand between her near dead palms. The two were alone in the Wing, Madam Pomfrey having a heated discussion with Professors Dumbledore and Snape in her office about matters Hermione knew not. No tears could come anymore, but a dull, resonating ache was pounding within, making her realise that she had never in her life felt so helpless and confused. A horrible pool of sorrow drenched her insides, soaking and filling her mind to the brim, making her brain and even her heart absorb the morbid truths of possibilities that she did not want to even consider at the moment.

Fleur had passed out cold just hours ago from merely looking at Hermione. Hermione who had been, once again, furious at her odd behaviour. They were in the Great Hall when it happened, not outside – inside. Hermione was being subjected to a Fleur who had suddenly grown a thirst and hunger akin to a rapist for all to see. Ron and Harry managed to keep Fleur away, and Hermione had backed off, pausing only to look Fleur in the eye while she knelt upon the floor with Harry and Ron both holding both of her arms. Fleur had her head hung, not in shame, but in a thirsty defeat while she still looked Hermione in the eye. Hermione continued to leer dangerously, ignoring how badly her insides were screaming to simply let herself sob and scream at Fleur for her behaviour.

The lava and blizzard had begun to clash again, steadily meeting and at the same time sending powerful forces blowing back to their owners. Fleur continued to kneel strongly, proudly – Hermione stood in a furious poise and continued to leer. The tension was enough to make Hermione herself pass out, but she did not; nor was she expecting Fleur to. But the manner at which Fleur's eyes were edged, the colour they had turned – purple, almost. A mix of red and blue.

Purple eyes had stared back at her, still shooting a violet violent blizzard to drown out the heat. But Hermione's fury overtook Fleur still, easily crippling her and sending her in a bout of epilepsy and rendering her useless. The woman fell over and at Hermione's terrified feet; staff finally arrived at the scene, Snape was spitting hoards of questions at a sobbing Hermione, McGonagall urging him sharply to remember his place and to stop cursing at her student, Slytherins were in an uproar of anger at Hermione, the other three Houses even wanted to agree – the entire school was in shambles and confusion and anger.

Hermione didn't even notice someone had brought up a chair opposite her and was sitting by Fleur, observing her sombrely. A defiant choked sob escaped Hermione while she continued to sit, wondering what to do. The person opposite her noticed her inner traumas and spoke surprisingly softly for someone such as he. Someone that Hermione could hold absolutely no hatred for anymore. She hadn't the energy for such a thing as hate.

"The school's all saying it's your fault," said Draco quietly.

"Let them say what they will," Hermione sniffled, "I didn't do a thing… Fleur, she just.. I don't know what's wrong with her, Draco… I'm.. terrified… so terrified…"

"She hasn't been acting herself ever since she fell in love with you."

"She was happy."

"Fleur doesn't deserve to be happy—"

"How dare you say that?" Hermione hissed. Draco blanched at her and took her glaring in stride while he continued to speak.

"She never told you, did she?"

"Tell me what?"

"Never mind…"

"Whatever," spat Hermione, "just watch your tongue. I'm already haggard enough… Fleur's struggling right now and I don't know why. I don't know what's wrong with her."

"I told her you're bad news for her."

"She loves me. And I love her.. if it isn't obvious by now then you need to seek help."

"My vision is perfectly fine, thanks," Draco scoffed. "You don't even know the first thing about her. Don't start with me."

"I doubt you know her in the way I do…"

"Oh yeah?"

"I see her, Draco. I watch her. I know her. You don't. Not anymore, at least."

"That's a laugh. Go on – try me. Ask me something about her. Anything. I bet I'll know the answer."

"Which eyebrow does she always raise whenever she questions something?"

"Uh…her right?"

"No. She only raises her right when she's trying to be playful. She uses her left side for all things serious and mechanical such as writing and wielding her wand. If she's touching you in a serious manner then she'll use her left hand, arm, whatever. Right is for her…good humour."

"…okay, Granger. You've officially creeped me out."

"You asked."

"Whatever—"

Draco and Hermione both jumped when the nurse and Professors emerged from her office. At the exact same time, Fleur's torso sprang up and she shot a deadly glance in Dumbledore's direction. The old man looked at her fearfully – Fleur was soon thrashing about and snarling and even cackling arrogantly at the same time. Hermione and Draco were pushed aside, Dumbledore and Snape both having to move to contain Fleur and her tantrum. She continued to hiss and spit dangerously, all the while making realisations creep upon the expressions of the two men while Hermione and Draco could only continue to cower behind them.

McGonagall soon rushed in, Lupin trailing behind her, and her hat topped about her head when she saw the state that Fleur was in. Soon they, too, had to join in along with Madam Pomfrey to keep Fleur restrained, noticing the feathers that were sprouting about Fleur's body and feeling the powerful twinges of arousal settling about the room like a wanton vapour.

"Minerva!" shouted Dumbledore, "Alert the Order this instant! She really is…"

"Already done, Albus!" McGonagall said, allowing room for Pomfrey to move to Fleur's face to pour a potion down her open mouth that was developing sharper and sharper teeth by the second. "Are you sure about this?"

"How much more evidence do you need?" spat Snape above Fleur's ever increasing cries of anguish. "The Dark Lord's tricked us all! We should have thought more of Fleur's headache and Voldemort going down too easily that night!"

"Exactly what is going on here?" Draco asked shrilly. Snape whipped around and winced at Fleur's attempt to claw at him.

"Tell your Father congratulations for sparing the woman when she was a girl! Lord Voldemort possessed her that night he was supposedly killed!"

Hermione could hear no more in any absolute detail; tears were stinging her eyes and she barely felt herself collapse to the cold floor. Draco actually rushed down to her side while she continued to wail, both of them barely hearing St. Mungo's Healers coming in, confirming her forgotten suspicions about who it was that was holding her in invisible disguise that night. It was Fleur… Fleur had protected her and held her and kept her safe from harm that entire night in the Department of Mysteries. Fleur was holding her while they watched Harry and Dumbledore kill Voldemort's body. Fleur was the one who was the recipient of the man's wretched soul…

And now Fleur had finally lost it, spinning more and more out of control, transforming, and at the same time letting Voldemort speak triumphantly through her. Soon Draco was holding Hermione, ducking under a bed helplessly for cover while the doors to the Hospital Wing were blown open. Horrible cackles reverberated through the room, the walls of the room itself failing and vibrating dangerously with the tremors of reckless, gleeful curses and spells sent throughout the castle – Voldemort had summoned his followers. The adults tried to fight them away, Draco held onto Hermione for his own safety more than her own, and Fleur had finally stopped screaming once her transformation was complete. All Hermione could see through her teary eyes was a glowing, clawed hand hanging from the bed, soon raising while the adults were blasted away from her in a union of incantations and mirthful laughter.

Hermione felt the need to crawl from underneath the bed and grab at Fleur's feet she could see through torn Converse and further torn black jeans. A horrible flow of powerful, intensely arousing desire for everything was floating throughout the room, visible as a faint purple hue so akin to the acrylic that still lingered still on the woman's claws. Draco continued to hold Hermione back, placing a large hand over her mouth to silence her when the staff were all knocked out and the Death Eaters continued to destroy merrily while their follower swaggered out of the room with them.

"Rejoice," said Fleur in a voice that had melded Voldemort's with her own accented lilt, "I have been alerting you to my reawakening for these past few months. I am most pleased to see you all escaped from Azkaban. Yet again, might I mention."

"Of course, my Lord," said Lucius. Hermione writhed once in a horrible fit and Draco himself had to restrain himself while still holding on to her. "The Ministry deserves a visit from you, does it not? Let us continue where we left off years ago."

"Ahh, Lucius… Lucius, Lucius… I never did thank you for not obeying my orders completely."

"My.. my Lord.. I only had your best interests at heart. The girl most certainly did live up to expectations, as you see now…"

"Certainly. Certainly, Lucius. Now, let us move onwards to our new humble abode… But first. Lucius, kneel before me."

And just before they all departed, Lucius's pained cries ripped through his throat, vibrating horribly in Draco and Hermione's ears while Fleur and Lord Voldemort laughed. The laughter sounded strangely like the one Fleur had Transfigured that day in Defence Against the Dark Arts so many months ago. Just as the staff began to stir, the cries stopped, and they all left the weakened Hogwarts in a flash of cackling and cheering. Hermione could not feel a thing anymore once she felt the absence of Fleur in the room. She could only continue to lay in Draco's arms, feeling absolutely nothing. She didn't have the strength to ponder anything or figure things out or even mourn. The shock was too much too handle, too much to bear, too much to live with. Draco was right…

Hermione had not the strength to wonder about the why or how behind anything at the moment. There was no why or how anymore; Fleur was gone. She was…gone. Gone, gone, gone… And it really was all her fault. All Hermione's fault. Or was it..? She didn't know, and she didn't have the strength to wonder.

This was a dark night. A dark night in the shape of Fleur's thrall and Voldemort's incessant survival.