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Chapter 11::
Freewill
"Hermione, you have to tell Ron." Harry said as he ran to catch up to her.
Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry about this. They've been back at school for two months now and the need to tell Ron was just getting more and more fierce every day. "I know, Harry. I know. I just don't know when I'm going to."
And it was true. She really wanted to tell Ron, but she wasn't sure if she could. Ever since she told Harry and Ginny they have kept their eyes on her; annoyingly so. She could practically go nowhere without them watching her every second. They claimed it was because they were just worried about her. Hermione knew the truth. They were worried she was going to talk to Draco Malfoy again; that maybe she would sneak out to see him; which that thought in and of itself was ridiculous. Not only had he been ignoring her since she came clean to save his skin, but because of the way he is around her. He acts as if she's trying to kill him or something.
Funnily enough, right then that didn't seem like a bad idea…
Harry sighed, trying to keep up with her as they walked to Herbology. "Fine, but can you please make it soon? I mean you don't..." He stopped himself and cleared his throat. "He just needs to know is all."
Though he had tried to hide it, Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about. She did not look good at all. Her illness was really started to take over her body bit by bit. In fact, she was so disturbed by it that she tried to not look in the mirrors anymore unless it's totally necessary. It was no secret to everyone that she had noticeably lost a lot of weight, since it was required that she shrink her uniform here and there. Even her skin seemed paler, translucent. Her eyes were sinking in, giving her the sunken-eye look. She didn't like it, not one bit. Every day that went by she saw herself getting worse and worse.
Hermione was fading a lot faster then she thought she would.
Not only was it physical effects, but it went deeper than that; a lot deeper. She was finding it difficult to get around, her exhaustion preventing her from retreating to the common room often due to the many stairs she'd have to climb. There had been many times where she couldn't even go to lessons that day; deciding to stay in bed if the cold sweats and body tremors were too bad. Food didn't even sound to appealing anymore and her spleen was severely enlarged, as Madam Pomphrey put it.
Yes, Hermione Granger was in a bad way. Deep down, she knew what was to happen. She was going to die sooner than she thought. If she kept progressing this way, it would be very soon. She couldn't tell her friends that though. Harry and Ginny already never left her side. If she told them the truth—though, she had a good idea they could tell for themselves—they would never leave her side. That was why she didn't tell them to begin with; she didn't need them abandoning their lives for her.
Now, it seemed that Ron was going to get involved as well. Ever since he had returned from his stint as a Kneazle, he had been very pleasant. He had even apologized to Hermione for the way he had been acting. Hermione merely hugged him and said that all was forgiven. Ever since, he had been trying to find time to spend with her; something Hermione suspected was Harry's doing. But, she'd always had to turn him down in fears that he would notice. He had always been obtuse, that one. Luckily for her, he couldn't even notice her deteriorating.
"Ok, Harry." She stopped and turned to her best friend, noting his misting eyes as he looked her up and down. "I'll tell him soon. Just, please, give me a day or so. Alright?"
Harry just nodded his head and didn't argue. It was painful enough for him to see her wasting away so he had no intentions of fighting with her. Not when he could tell they didn't have very much time left. As they walked into Herbology, Harry sat next to her as close as he possibly could. Ever since she told him, he had remained as close as he could. He had lost so many of the people that he loved that he was not willing to let go of Hermione. So much so, that he had been working with Madam Pomphrey late at night trying to find a cure for her. After everything his best friend has done for him in the war, he had always seen her as a pillar of strength; the one person in his life that would never go anywhere. It was almost too painful to consider that what was taking her away from him was something he couldn't fight.
But, he would. He was Harry bloody Potter. He would find a cure for her. Even if it was the last thing he would do.
Everyone could see that Hermione Granger was getting worse. Draco, himself, noticed before anyone else did. As to why that was, he didn't know. All he did know was that she was, and it was hurting him deeply.
Ever since school resumed, Draco had been unable to get her out of his mind. At first, he had tried to distance himself from her in hopes that the strange and unwanted feelings that she rose in him would disappear. Now he could tell that wasn't working. Instead, it was having the opposite effect. It just made him want to see her, talk to her, and be around her even more. In classes he would walk by her table just to smell her fragrance. She smelled wonderful to him and that just disturbed him some more. Needless to say, he was hopeless.
Sitting in the Great Hall at dinnertime, he noticed her picking at her food, not really eating any of it. That is, she wasn't until she got a stern look from Potter. Next to her was the dumb Ron Weasley. He just chatted away and never even noticed his ailing friend. Draco snorted into his pumpkin juice when Weaslebee whispered something in her ear. At her laugh, he felt the fierce urge to punch the pitiful excuse for a pureblood. Jealousy rose in him and nearly made him crush his goblet in his hand. That was the final straw. From then on out, the two of them needed to get something straight. He needed to talk to her and get her to understand that she needed to stop giving him these bizarre feelings.
Yes, he and Granger needed to have a very serious discussion.
Hermione laughed at what Ron whispered into her ear. He was telling her a story about what happened over break. Apparently, he and George had walked in on Harry and Ginny snogging in their father's shed. Just the thought of the look that was no doubt on her best friends faces was enough to make her clutch her stomach as the painful laughs kept coming. In her mind, Hermione kept thinking about how nice it was to finally have Ron to talk to.
However, the other part of her mind kept telling her that she needed to tell him the truth. It just kept coming up in her mind ever since dinner started. If she wasn't next to Ron, she would smack Harry over the head for pressuring her so hard. It was his entire fault it was continuously on her mind! If he didn't remind her day in and day out that she needed to tell him as well, she wouldn't be in this painful dilemma. Okay, that's not true. He did pressure her a lot, but it was a necessary pressuring. If he didn't she would never tell Ron.
As she and Ron kept playfully mocking Harry and Ginny, she felt eyes staring into her back. She recognized the feeling immediately and didn't have to turn around to know who it was. So, Draco Malfoy was staring at her again? Well, at least he's not completely trying to ignore her presence. Sighing, she sat up from the table and excused herself. She didn't want to be stared at by the guy who treated her like she was contagiously diseased. Hermione already had enough problems.
Making her way to the common room, she felt her knees start to shake. This was a bad sign. When this typically happened, the tremors were close by. If she didn't get to her room quick enough, she might not make it there without passing out. The other students of this school were already talking enough as it was due to her appearance. She certainly didn't need to give them any more ammo. So, she pushed herself to climb the stairs and eventually made it to the dorms. No one was back from dinner quite yet, which gave her to time to lean against the wall. Her breathing was becoming labored, which was an even worse sign then the shaking knees.
She needed to make it to her bed. Now.
The stairs to the dorms looked incredibly steep to Hermione. Refusing to give up, however, she forced one foot up. Her knees nearly gave as she balanced herself. She was almost there. Using all her strength, she got one leg up after another. Finally, she laughed slightly as she reached the dorms, rushing as fast as she could to her bed. She barely hit the pillows when she finally succumbed to the dark abyss circling over her head.
Ginny stood up with her fiancé as everyone started to filter out of the Great Hall. Dinner was over and everyone was retreating to their rooms for the night. There was one witch in particular that Ginny was deeply concerned about. "Harry, I'm worried."
Harry, taking her hand, nodded his head. "I am too, Gin."
"What can we do? Madam Pomphrey is still working on the cure, but she doesn't predict for the cure to be ready for a few more months and Hermione..." she couldn't bring herself to finish.
"I know, Ginny. " And he did. Hermione didn't look good and spent most of her time in bed doing homework or writing notes to her folks. Harry knew deep down she didn't have a lot of time left.
It didn't take an incredibly smart person to know that Hermione was sick. People came up to him and Ginny daily to ask what was wrong with the brightest witch in the age. Every time they gave the same answer. She was ill and didn't feel well. However, after the last month that excuse wasn't working anymore. No illness in the wizarding world lasted that long unless it was serious. Everyone knew that and the most painful part for Harry was that he knew Hermione knew that. He knew she could feel their pitying glances all day and constantly saw how they avoided her like the plague. More importantly, he saw her will to live fading more and more in her eyes. Now, they weren't just dull.
They were empty.
"Let's get some sleep, love." He said, kissing his fiancé on the forehead. "Tomorrow we will go to Madam Pomphrey. Maybe we can all come up with something."
Merlin, did he hope so.
Ron wasn't an idiot. He knew something was wrong with Hermione. He knew she was keeping something from him. He wasn't blind and could easily see her illness. For Merlin's sake, it's not hard to see. But, something no one understood was that he also noticed the way she would look at their fellow classmates with pain in her eyes. They were avoiding her and she knew it was because she was sick. That was the reason why he hadn't been treating her any different. She needed at least one person in her life to treat the same as they always did.
His time as a Kneazle gave him some perspective. Hermione didn't love him the way he loved her. While that hurt him a lot more then he cared to admit, it was still true. The more he pushed her away, the bigger the chance that he would lose her. And while he really wanted her to tell him what was wrong, he would wait.
She'd tell him in her own time.
Hermione tossed and turned, the pain in her side getting worse and worse.
Everyone around her was sound asleep, causing her to keep her whimpers and cries silent. She might be hurting, but she didn't want anyone to know about it. Especially Ginny; since the girl had already moved her bed to be unbearably close to Hermione's. Apparently, she had intended to watch Hermione through the night just in case she needed anything. Luckily enough, she dozed off long before the pain started. She loved Ginny to pieces, but she couldn't stand it when they babied her.
Standing out of bed, she was glad to note that her strength had fully returned, the only thing wrong being the pain in her side. Nevertheless, she limped over to the spacious window next to her bed and stared out. None of the stars were visible in the sky as the dark grey clouds covered their bright shines. Clutching her side in obvious agony, she felt her lungs burn slightly. Granted, she knew that it wasn't her illness that caused such a reaction. It was psychosomatic. She needed to get air, needed to be outside. So, ignoring the pain, she pulled a nice pair of sweats over her shorts, leaving her tank top alone as she slid her shoes on. It was a warm night, so she didn't need a cloak.
What she did need was to be under her tree.
It was dark; the clouds preventing all light from shining down.
With her wand in one hand, Hermione gazed across the lake from under her tree. Upon arrival, she had sent a few globes of light overhead so she could see. The light was mute and not very bright, but it was enough for her to see twenty feet around where she sat. The soft waves of the Black Lake were barely noticeable from where she was sitting, even with the light overhead. Now and then, she would see the giant squid lift its tentacles out of the depths. Most people would think it was dangerous out here in the dark, and they were probably right. However, that didn't matter to Hermione. She was dying anyway, so a little danger wouldn't kill her.
Hermione had been out there for a few hours, trying to come to terms with the fact that she didn't have as much time as she thought she did. She was dying, her body fading faster and faster. If she had to put a time on it, she would say she only had about four months left before her body gave out. Four months to say her goodbyes, when no one even really knew yet.
A thunder clap sounded overhead, warning of an impending storm; telling her that it was time to head back to the dorms. Part of Hermione didn't want to move; just wanted to sit until the rain came pouring down. Who knew, maybe the rain could wash away her cancer. However, when another louder thunder clap sounded overhead, she figured now might be a good of time as any to head back. So, sliding her wand into her pocket, she stood up and stretched, thankfully that the pain in her side had faded to a dull ache.
She hadn't even taken one step when she heard a voice break through the silence.
"Hasn't anyone told you not to go out by yourself after dark?"
Sighing, she turned towards the voice, "Yes, but they also told me to not play with criminals. Seems I've failed on both accounts."
Draco laughed lightly as he came forward from the shadows, ten feet from where she was standing. "It seems you have."
"So," Hermione crossed her now shaking arms as the thunder continued to rumble. "You finally decided to stop ignoring me now?"
He raised an eyebrow, barely visible in the dim light. "Why, has the great Hermione Granger missed my wondrous presence?"
She frowned, "Oh, right, Malfoy. I missed being near you. Keep telling yourself that."
He smirked. "I will, Granger. I will."
Sighing, she took a step forward, "As much as I love our thrilling conversation, I think its best I retreat to my dorm."
"Not quite yet, Granger." He said, stepping toward her to prevent her from going back to the school.
A cold raindrop hit her nose, more hitting her forehead. "Not now, Malfoy, it's starting to rain. I would like to get inside before I catch a cold."
"This won't take long, Granger, I assure you." He crossed his arms as the rain started to fall.
Hermione felt her hair get wet as it began to pour. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?"
He took a step forward. "Why are you so anxious to get away from me all of the sudden?"
She wanted to scream in frustration. "Well, excuse me for not being excited to talk to you, Malfoy. After all, you were the one who's been treating me like I'm invisible or something."
"I have not been treating you like your invisible, Granger." He said, getting angry.
"Yes, you bloody well have, Malfoy!" She took a step forward, her hand clutched to her sides in fists. "You were the first person I told that I was dying. Do you have any idea how hard that was?! How hard it was for me to come clean about something I didn't want anyone to know? And when I did tell you—to save your undeserving arse—what did you do? You got up and walked out! It was as if you didn't care whether or not I was dying. And, even if you don't, have you any idea what that did to me? It made me not want to tell anyone for fear of them walking out on me! That was bloody painful, Malfoy!"
"Well, what the bloody hell did you want me to do, Granger? Wrap my arms around you and tell you it was going to be okay? I couldn't do that and you know it! We're bloody enemies—"
She interrupted him, taking another step closer. "No, we are not enemies, Malfoy. We haven't been since that moment on the train. You said so yourself that I was the only person who wasn't treating you like a bloody Death Eater!"
He growled in anger, throwing his hands up. "This isn't about me being your bloody enemy, Granger!"
"Then what the hell is it about, you daft moron!?" She screamed back.
"It's about you. I want you to stop!" He shouted, now standing two feet away from her.
"Stop what!?! I don't know what the bloody hell you are talking about!?" She stomped her foot in exasperation.
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I really don't!"
"Stop playing dumb, Granger! Just stop!"
"Stop what? Just spit it out, you foul pathetic ferret!"
"These feelings, Granger! Make me stop feeling for you!" He shouted in her face.
Surprise replaced her rage as she stared at Draco Malfoy. He felt for her? Her eyes widened as she looked into his stormy ones, not even hearing the thunder overhead. Was he telling the truth? From the look in his eyes, she got her answer. Bloody hell…
Draco Malfoy actually felt for her.
"You have feelings for me?" Her voice was surprised.
He snorted. "Don't sound so surprised, Granger. You did this to me after all and I want you to take it back."
"I didn't do anything to you, Malfoy." She said with her voice still low from shock.
He laughed darkly, "Don't lie to me, I know you did. Why else would I feel this way?"
She lifted her hand and wiped the wet hair from her face as the rain continued to fall. "What way, exactly?"
"As if you don't know! The constant thoughts about you, the way my heart races when I see you, and how I hurt when I see the pain you're in. You must have given me something and I want the antidote." He was quiet as he spoke, deadly.
Hermione didn't know what to say. Draco Malfoy was telling her he was in love with her. He just didn't understand that. The worst part, however, was that she thought she felt the same way.
"I assure you, Malfoy, that I didn't give you anything." Her voice was still quiet.
He rolled his eyes. "Sure. Then where do you suppose they came from? Freewill?"
"No, I don't." She smirked. "There's no such thing as freewill when you fall in love with someone."
Draco froze. She did not just say that to him. "I am NOT in love with you, Granger!"
Hermione laughed, "Right. Then what do you suppose it is? I certainly didn't give you anything, so it bloody well isn't my fault!"
"Lies!" He snarled, now not even a foot away from her.
She rolled her eyes, "You are such a bloody fool!"
"Don't call me a fool, you filthy Mudblood!?"
She took another step forward. "Take that back, you loathsome momma's boy!" She screamed at him.
"I hate you!" He shouted, thunder clapping as he did so.
"Well, not as much as I hate you, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed, blinking the water out of her eyes.
Snarling, neither of them spoke. Draco had the urge to curse her while Hermione had the urge to punch him again like she did in third year. The rain kept pouring and the storm continued to rage on as they stared each other with fierce hatred. But, what neither of them wanted the other to know was that love was hidden deep beneath the hate. After all, it was that love that gave them the passion to fight to begin with...
And it was that love that sent Draco's lips crashing down onto Hermione's.