A/N: All I have to say this time is how much that I love all my readers and thanks so much for all the fabulous reviews! I have loved writing this story thus far and it would have never gone so far without you. Thanks! Now to find out who screamed…

Stolen

Chapter 22: Who Was Screaming

The pitiless sound tore through the darkness and sent chills racing down Hermione's spine. The boat rocked when its occupants leapt in surprise and instinctively clung tighter to each other to keep from falling out, but only for a second of course. Straining her eyes through the darkness to catch a glimpse of anything that might be happening ashore, Hermione leaned forward toward land and shushed her companion. It was not long before the voice shrieking became recognizable.

"We have to help!" she squealed, turning to Draco.

"What?" he asked, dumbstruck and horrified at the thought of actually going ashore. Immediately, she unanchored the boat and was about to send it forward when his hand closing tightly around her wrist stopped her. His face was contorted in a frown, his voice asked if she was mad, but his eyes showed fear. She was ashamed of him for a moment. Of course it wasn't logical to go ashore. Of course it was likely they would be attacked too. Of course she remembered the book saying it had never been subdued by less than one hundred skilled wizards, but she, Harry, and Ron had managed. No, that had only with the help of professor Snape. Neville had been saved by centaurs. But Draco would be there and he would be another hand. They could do it. They could maybe do it. She had to try. She could not bear to sit meters away and listen to that frightful screaming any longer. Her legs ached with the memory of such screams.

She tried to tear away, but desperately he held her closer. The two began to sway the boat dangerously as they fought for control over its direction.

"We can't!" Draco shouted.

"We have to!" Hermione then pleaded. And then, the ghastly noise completely stopped.

"What happened?" she gasped breathlessly into the night. The two leaned forward toward the shore again, looking and listening for any signs of life. Overcome with sudden panic, Hermione could stand it no longer. She stood and attempted to jump into the freezing water and swim to shore. Draco yelped and grabbed a hold of her heavy cloak. The weight pulled her backwards and she landed on his lap.

"Are you mad?" he demanded yet again, holding onto her tightly.

"Harry. Ron. I have to see if they are alright." She cried.

"You'll freeze t death before you make it to shore." Unable to do anything else, Draco just held onto her, trying his best to keep her from jumping into the freezing water. Just as she was about to protest again, the wind blew and the air seemed to grow colder. Their bodies shook with the fierceness of it, their boat moved. Hermione teeth began to chatter again. She looked at Draco and noticed his hair pale hair was beginning to freeze solid, ice evident in his ethereal locks. She reached out and touched the icicles, calling his attention to it. Just as he told her, steam pouring from his mouth, that hers was doing the same and that they better get back under the blankets, they heard an unexpected crack underneath them. The boat shifted uneasily. "What was that?" he called out surprise.

Hermione jolted as the boat moved under them again. She peered down into the silent waters of the Black Lake. That is when she noticed just how very silent it had become. There was only the arctic wind whipping about them. There were no cries of agony from the land. No birds in the trees nor beasts in the forest making their presence known. Not even the sound of the waves assaulting the side of the boat. Extending her hand slowly, half expecting something to jump from the darkness and grab her, she tried to touch the water. Instead she pulled her hand back, recoiling as if something had bitten her for her fingers had touched something solid and unmoving. There were no waves; the water had utterly frozen. It was dark too; all the candles had been blown out. Their breath before them in foggy blasts conjured memories that made things startlingly clear: Dementors. Yet, she could not see them. There must be hundreds on their way for such effects to already be taking place. That explained their dramatic mood swings.

"Dementors!" she whispered urgently to Draco whose eyebrows shot upwards and eyes widened considerably. "Run!"

"Run? How do you propose I do that? I can't even walk on water, let alone-" his sarcastic question was not answered, as explaining would take too long. Rather, she grasped his hand firmly and stepped forth onto the slick ice of the lake. Sliding and falling more than once to land painfully on its hard surface, the two made their way as fast as they could back towards the gate, bags in hand. Sticking together helped them to balance on the frictionless surface devoid of any light save the narrow ones projected from their illuminated wand tips. Their hands were clasp so tightly, pulling each other along or dragging if they fell, that it hurt, but neither was about to let go. Hermione could feel it growing colder, darker. She knew that they were getting closer and it must be a throng of them. Fear already mounting tightly inside her chest, Hermione knew that if the dementors succeeded in reaching them the results would be disastrous. They were so concentrated in fact it did not occur to them until they felt the ice vibrating under their feet that this new, solid surface would allow the beasts on land they had hope to avoid access to them.

"Faster!" Draco shouted when he too sensed this, pushing her forwards and speeding up.

As if materializing out of no where, they came upon the iron gate that had been closed, and though they tried to stop themselves, the pair crashed into it unable to come to a complete stop so suddenly. Moaning in pain, they clutched their shins and then, hopelessly, the bars of the gate. There was no way in. They were trapped.

"Hermione think!" Draco pleaded, the fear now manifest in his own voice unnerving and distracting her. "What do we do?"

"Alohamora!" She shouted, directing the spell to the latch inside with all her might. It did no good, nor did the lifting spell directed at the lever on the other side. Dumbledore knew how to protect his school. There was no way in unless they blasted a hole in it through which the beasts could follow them. Coming hastily to the same conclusion, Draco shouted, "We're going to have to destroy the gate to get in!"

"No, there must be another way!" she protested, unable to think in the panic. There was a ghastly snarl behind them slightly off in the distance. Pleading, tears in his eyes and his voice, Draco hissed through the darkness, "Hermione please do something!"

That was it! Pushing him out of the way she acted quickly, melting a small hole in the ice big enough for one person to slip through. He looked at her as if to ask if she was joking, but she was to busy too to point out that her intention was perfectly clear. On the other side of the gate she had melted another hole identical to the one between them. His eyes widened in disbelief, but she paid his concern no mind.

"Quickly!" she urged him, "throw your blankets and shoes through the bars!" With that, she shoved both bags forcefully through the bars toward the other hole a few feet away. Another snarl made them gasp. The animals were getting closer, no doubt sniffing them out through the darkness. It was only a matter of time. Please, she mentally begged, don't fight me on this Draco. But it seemed he had no intention of arguing for once. He obeyed her command instantly, moving as quickly as humanly possible and readying himself to leap in the hole in the ice, bare foot and shivering violently.

From her spot, perched on the edge of the ice, she pointed her wand vaguely down into the depths and towards the gate, issuing a forceful spell that broke the metal with a sharp grating sound and shaking the ice under them. Now that they could swim through only one touch was left. She had to make sure they knew where the other hole was so that they did not become trapped underneath the ice. She cast a spell on it which bid it to glow intensely so it would be easy to find underwater and signaled to Draco to go at once. Again he obeyed with only a second of hesitation with a concerned look back at her. Unless her imagination was playing tricks on her, she could hear the creaking and moaning of the ice that meant weight was being placed on it by something not far behind. Her eyes widened, chest tightening, her breathing hitched. She did not dare turn to look behind her for she could almost feel the beast's breath upon the back of her neck, but still knew it must be her imagination as she could not yet smell its said terrible breath. She held her own breath tightly inside her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut in fear and anticipation. Mentally she counted the seconds Draco was under the water, praying he came up on the other side, that her plan worked. Intently, she watched the other hole for signs of him, waiting, and muscles tense and poised to leap in the water. One, two, three, please don't drown, four, five… The ice creaked behind her ominously. She barely contained a whimper.

Finally, Draco burst out of the water into the darkness on the other side, gasping for breath and completely colorless. Taking a deep breath, she too leapt into the water and her heart passing through the portal just in time. A vicious growl followed just above her and as she passed through the ice into the safety of the water it shuddered under great force as something large and powerful pounced on the spot where she had been seconds before.

She found herself suddenly wholly submerged in the icy lake, the shock of which was so great that she almost gasped and took in water. For a moment, she could not react or move at all. In that brief moment, as she had read dramatic temperature changes will sometimes cause, her heart actually stopped. She floated in the water like as if bewitched, movement suspended, everything frozen in time for the shortest of instants. The impact from above thrust the water, shifting her unwillingly. Then, her head felt as if she had been hit very hard by a brick and her body came alive with pain. She could not even describe the water in terms of cold, only painful. Her skin burned. It stung with the fury of a thousand bees attacking her, her muscles cramped dramatically, constricted. Her head ached and throbbed sharply. Extending her hand, she felt the rough texture of the metal bars of the gate, but running her fingers up and down them blindly she soon found that these bars were not broken. The movement of the ice as the beasts had pounced had propelled her off course and now she was disoriented in the freezing water, still holding her breath. Frantically, she searched with her hands, feeling out on either side the bars for a hole in them somewhere. As her panic grew, so did her need for air. She was reminded of the spell Draco had performed on her. Panic was her true enemy she reminded herself, trying to stay calm even in the most dire of situations. If only she could draw a steadying breath!

At that moment, her hand was pricked by something sharp. She jerked back instinctively, only to extend it again and feel the jagged edges of the bars where they had been blown apart by her spell. Hastily, she pulled herself through, cutting her calf on the protruding metal and paying it little notice. Without her own effort, her body lifted her to the surface, but something stopped her, something solid. She had hit ice. She had not come out in the right spot! But where was it? What direction did she need to swim towards? She was so disoriented under the dark water she had no idea and her oxygen supply would allow her time for only one guess. She moved left, further, and then a little further. Her hands slid against smooth, hard ice. She had guessed wrong.

She knew she had to get out quickly. Her blood was rushing to her heart, making her feel warmer, but her arms and legs were refusing to pump as she needed them. In true desperation, she pounded on the ice from below, hoping Draco would hear or feel it. Had he waited for her? She wanted to scream for help, but all she could do was slam her fists on the surface trapping her in the water, urgently, harder. Her view began to blacken; her lungs convulse trying to force her to draw a breath. She was running out of time. Where was Draco?

There was an earsplitting commotion as the ice above her head split into a thousand pieces, sharp as glass and sprayed everywhere, exposing the surface of the water. She broke it gratefully, choking and pulling herself up.

"Draco!" she called, being alone the last thing she wanted to find herself at that moment. He was near her, gasping for breath and grabbing for her. He held her cloak tightly, but it pulled her down. Fearfully, she gasped for breath, unable to propel her self up again. Then, her cloak was removed, drifting to the bottom of the lake without her. They grabbed each other tightly.

"You took long enough!" he yelled at her angrily. "Thought you had gone and drowned yourself."

"I was afraid of that too, but you s-saved me."

"You saved us both." He panted.

With all their combined strength, Hermione was able to get out of the water, grunting and screaming with the effort. Though weak and out of breath, Draco pulled Hermione up, but she immediately wished she had not emerged. The harshness of the cold air on her wet body winded her. She trembled violently, still unable to breathe properly. She had been smart earlier to leave their coats, shoes, and dry blankets on the ice. Draco covered her hastily with a blanket and jumped to his feet. "Come on!" he urged. She gazed up at him, questioningly. In reply, he glanced towards the gate a few feet away.

There on the other side two pairs of yellow orbs glowered through the darkness at them, moving backwards and forwards as their owners paced. A low growl issued from one, ominously. With amazing power, one threw itself upon the bars that rattled but did not give, snarling fiercely. Without a word between them, Hermione and Draco grabbed their things and raced to the dock towards the stone stairway that could take them to first year entrance. The ungodly ruckus behind her frightened her terribly, but she could not help but look back when a large crack vibrated the ice underneath them, causing the pair to momentarily slip. She feared the beast had broken the gates, but casting a light into the darkness revealed that they had instead broken the ice with their bounding weight and the creatures were sputtering and clawing in the sub-zero water. Their gasping and the scrapping sound of their claws scathing desperately the ice was appalling, so much so that the two covered their ears. At least one thing was accomplished. There no doubt now that their suspicions had been right. They were nundus.

Even though they were bloodthirsty beasts, she took no pleasure in watching the animals drown and freeze. She half wished they were not so dangerous and she could save them and they would leave her alone. The thought was rushed from her mind as she whipped around to face the side door in the wall through which they would find a passage to take them to the hall. The two held to each other's soaked bodies closely and Hermione felt she really understood the meaning of the words chilled to the bone. She felt none of her was dry, that there was no warmth left in her body, that she would never be warm again. She was not thinking or feeling anything, but her whole body longed for heat and soaked it up from any resource it could reach, even Draco's body. Wordlessly the sputtering couple shook violently all the way to their dormitory where they made a beeline for the fireplace and its dazzling warmth. They huddled dangerously close t it, sparks from the embers catching on their blankets. She performed a simple drying spell on the two with minimal difficulty considering her exhaustion and summoned Dobby to ask for some tea. The elf was insistent they go the hospital wing, but Hermione was insistent they did not. No one could know they had been out there or why.

When he returned swiftly, she nearly called him Knobby. What a strange mistake. She laughed a little at her silliness. A thought suddenly occurred to Hermione. She had spoken to Dobby twice since she retuned and had completely forgotten.

"Dobby," she called, as the elf brought them their piping hot tea which they gratefully accepted. "I've met your sister, Knobby." A teary smile of recognition lit up the elf's features.

"Knobby miss? How is Knobby?"

"Very well. I thought you'd like to know she saved my life."

"Little Knobby?" asked Dobby proudly, if a little taken aback. She thought it odd for the elf to call anyone little, but smiled and nodded all the same. Dobby beamed for a moment and began to cry silently as he readied their beds with warm blankets.

"She asked about you. She wanted to know if you were doing well."

"Dobby is miss!" the elf squeaked enthusiastically.

"I told her you were a friend of Harry Potter."

"And miss." He added.

"Yes," she smiled slightly. "And me. Dobby could dry out those books for me please?"

"Of course miss."

"And would it be too much trouble to ask you to fetch the things for this potion?"

"Dobby will do it miss, gladly."

"Thank you." She replied vaguely. She felt very odd, very cold, and very tried.

"How is Knobby, Miss?"

"She's fine." Hermione responded hazily, sighing.

"Granger?" Draco spoke finally. "Are you going to keel over?"

Then Hermione saw nothing but blackness and thought things were extremely nice and quiet down there, like under the waves.

She woke groggily, confused, and with great effort some time later. She smiled to find she was much warmer than before and stretched lazily in her bed, eyes still closed. That was certainly odd. She did not recall getting in bed last night or undressing, but she could feel the softness of her winter pajamas on her skin. She turned over, relishing the warmth of the bed and brushed up against something solid and also soft.

'Crookshanks,' she thought. Her eyes flew open. It could not be Crookshanks. He was the Order headquarters, far from danger. Then what was that in her bed? She did not move. This was not happening, she told herself, willing it to be true. This could not be happening, but even so as she looked down at the covers she swallowed hard to see that they were not blue and black, but black and silver. They were Draco's covers and unless she was very much mistaken that was Draco's from lying next to her. Oh why ye gods?

She could feel herself reddening and moaned dismally at her condition. Quickly regretting her outburst as Draco shifted and sighed next to her, she clamped a hand tightly over her mouth. Her expression darkened to match her pallor as she thought about her new situation. It did not take a genius to figure out what had happened. Apparently, last night she had passed out and Draco had put her in his bed and slept next to her. If it had been nearly anyone else Hermione would have been thankful that they had kept her warm and dry, perhaps saving her life. Draco, however, was far from anyone else. She let out a muffled gasp. Her clothes! The thought of him undressing her when just last night he had tried to kiss her made her seethe with anger. How dare he?

A furious Hermione Granger thrust her legs forward unison with full force, colliding with Draco's sleeping form. He grunted in pain and rolled off the bed, landing with a hard thud on the very solid and chilly floor. Looking a complete mess, hair tussled, cheeks pink, and eyes sleepy, his head popped up over the edge of the bed.

He looked very surprised at first, but when he saw that she was awake his expression grew angry.

"Did you just kick me out of my own bed?"

"Yes." She informed him.

"Why?" his voice rumbled warningly.

"What am I doing in your bed?" she asked slowly, dangerous emphasis on every syllable.

"You passed out!" he said defensively. "We were both about to get hypothermia! What was I supposed to do?" he demanded.

"Well you didn't have to undress me!" she shouted angrily. Why couldn't she keep from blushing?

"I did not remove you clothes," he all but growled. "The elf did."

"Oh."

"Oh? OH? You're welcome!" he snatched the blankets up around him and stood. "Next time I'll just let you freeze to death." He mumbled, fuming as he retreated behind his dressing curtain. Awkwardly, she did the same. Talk about jumping to conclusions. Well done Hermione, she told herself.

On her desk she found the ingredients awaiting her for the potion that would cure Neville. She went to work on it straight away while Draco was in the bathroom. With extra care she slipped in each ingredient, rereading the instructions again and again. By the time Draco emerged it was bubbling and hissing and giving off a thick cloud of smoke with a strong purple hue.

"What are you doing?" he asked over her shoulder.

"Brewing this potion for Neville. It will be ready in a couple of hours and then we can take it to him. Do you have any vials? I seem to be out."

"Sure." He responded, retrieving them from his desk. "I think we need breakfast," he glanced down at his watch. "Or lunch." He corrected.

"What?" she demanded, almost dropping the vial she was holding.

"Well, it is past noon."

"What?" screeched Hermione who had never slept so late in her life. Last night must have really taken its toll. "What about classes?"

"Relax. I told Snape we were both ill, Dragon pox if anyone asked. It means we have to stay isolated until it passes as no one can really do anything and it is highly contagious.

"That was clever Draco." She observed, somewhat taken off guard.

"Don't sound so surprised." He said with some resent.

"Well, no I mean, it's just-" she struggled for words.

"Anyway," he interrupted. "What do you need next?"

"Those roots if you please," she recovered quickly, grateful for the change in conversation. Together they worked with the potion for another forty five minutes and then left it to sit next to an hour glass. Draco sighed and flopped down on the couch to recover from the painstaking work that was potion making. Once they were both seated their lunch of sandwiches appeared before them and they gobbled it up hungrily. Draco laid his head back and stretched out on the couch to relax with his morning paper for the remaining time.

"Let me know if there is anything good in there," Hermione requested, nodding at the paper. He grunted in response turning the page. Meanwhile, Hermione retired to the bathroom and had a nice hot bath. Once she was dressed and ready she came back into their bedroom to find Draco carefully pouring the potion into vials. The time had run out on the hour glass. He mentally slapped herself for taking so long in the bath. There were more important things, but, she noticed, Draco had the situation more than under control. He was a rather gifted potions maker truth be told. She was confident that they had managed to properly brew the antidote. Now, to dispense it to Neville and the nundu's other victim. That could prove a little more challenging as they would have to sneak into the infirmary and they supposedly had Dragon pox. Well, if anyone asked then they were ill and going to check in with madam Pomfrey and if Madam Pomfrey asked they would jus have to pretend it was something for the Order again. Of course this time that was very nearly the truth. They would have to cover up to hide the absence of pox. They could just say it was a cautionary measure to not spread it everywhere.

"Got it?" Hermione asked from behind Draco, hoping not to startle him.

"Yeah." He replied, sealing it skillfully and handing the vials over.

"Thank you." She offered. He nodded, holding onto vials as she tried to take them. He took a deep breath and smirked ever so slightly.

"Your hair smells nice." She actually started with surprise. Was that a compliment, a real compliment?

Cocking an eyebrow, she said the only thing she could think of: "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

He laughed. Threw back his head and laughed. With equal surprise he answered: "That was funny Granger."

"Don't sound too surprised." She mocked.

Hurrying the two made their way through the strangely deserted castle. Everyone, teacher and students, were occupied in their classrooms it seemed. Outside the weather was dark and dismal. The dementors had arrived, lurking at the wood's edge. All the windows were shut tightly, keeping what little warmth could be had inside the castle walls and the stark chill outside. The pair kept an eye out on the grounds, half expecting to see creatures lunging at them again. When they reached the hospital wing, they were met by a sight quite different from what they expected.

The scene was one that instantly communicated disquiet. A group of people were crowding the doorway, hushed and pensive. The group was familiar. None of them made a move to neither block the couple entrance nor inquire as to there business there. It seemed they were too preoccupied to worry about such trivialities. There was an anxious air about them and that anxiety was evenly drawn on every countenance. Something had happened, something so dramatic and unexpected that even Hermione and Draco's unexplained presence was no cause for alarm. They were waiting, as if for a verdict, that much was palpable, but what had stumped these people into standing in a motionless, helpless horde? Professors, former Gryffindors, and a few others, including a silently weeping Cho Chang, cast them strange looks. What had brought so many worried faces together? Hermione's own brow furrowed in concern. It was soon all too clear, though she dearly longed to deny it. Mrs. Weasley, tears streaming down her face, was leaning over a boy in the bed, a boy with messy black hair. Now all the faces present were linked: Harry.

It had been Harry's screams she heard last night on the lake, though she had so hoped she was mistaken, Harry whose form these people now gathered around allowing her access while Draco lagged inconspicuously behind. Her friend was exceedingly pale, cadaverous. He gave no sign of life, no faint blush in the lips or cheeks, no gentle rising and falling of the chest. He looked so small and still, but there was not a mark on him. She gasped weakly.

"He's alive," a soft voice behind her spoke reassuringly. It was Lupin. At the bedside, a distraught looking Ron sat vigilant.

"What happened?" she asked him in a whisper. With a pained expression he managed one word: "Scar." It had not been a nundu that attacked Harry then. That explained the lack of injuries. The beasts had been waiting on the shore line for herself and Draco all along, but Harry had had one of his attacks of pain in his scar and he was still unconscious. What had caused this to happen? Usually it meant that Voldermort was near, or trying to posses his thoughts. She wanted to ask what exactly was going on, but one look around told her that they were as stumped as she was. A whimper from the next bed called her attention to madam Pomfrey.

Others cast glances that way, but none moved other than Draco and Hermione. Poppy was leaning over Neville's form fussing. She sounded, for the very first time, both lost and sad. Nothing she was doing was helping him. She had no idea what was affecting Harry in such a way. She tried desperately to clean Neville's wounds. Blood poured audibly on the floor. Neville moaned incoherently. When Madam Pomfrey shifted and revealed his face, Hermione almost gagged. He had not improved at all. In fact, he was nearly unrecognizable. It looked like he was rotting and from the mournful half-conscious sounds he was making, it was evident he felt that way too.

"Poppy!" Remus made a hushed shout. "He's getting cold again."

"I'll watch him," Hermione offered, indicating Neville. The healer nodded, overwhelmed. Once they were alone behind the curtain, from the inside of her robe Hermione slipped the vial of antidote. Her hand shook. What if it was wrong? What if that nundu was part of a plan, only what Voldermort wanted them to think? What if this potion killed him? From behind her, Draco, who had been very hesitant to approach, appeared, taking it from her. Hermione offered strangled words of comfort to her friend as Draco, with a sickened expression on his face, poured the solution down the other boy's throat. He chocked, he gagged, he spluttered, he gasped. Then, he fell utterly silent.

Hermione held her breath. "Everything alright in there?" the healer called from the other side of the curtain. Throwing fearful glances at each other, the two did not respond right away.

"Hermione? Draco?"

Neville's pale form lay still in the bed, no longer bleeding. Was he breathing? Hermione could not tell. What if is had killed him? It had to have been the nundus though, they had seen them with their very eyes. Had they brewed it correctly then? Draco had finished the potion… Draco? Had he, could he have, poisoned it? She shook her head in disbelief, horror. Just then, a wheezy intake of breath rattled behind him. Neville was breathing deeply and smoothly.

"We're fine." She choked weakly to Madam Pomfrey. "Everything's fine." Draco stared at Neville, not believing his eyes as the boy regained full consciousness. "Come on," Hermione whispered, a hand on his shoulder. "We have to leave before-"

"What's going on? What happened?" Neville's voice croaked from the bed.

"Nothing, Longbottom." Draco quickly replied. "Nothing. You're fine."

The healer popped her head around the corner, apparently coming to her senses. "You can't stay in here! You'll get him sick. Out! Shoo!" she insisted. Thankful for the excuse to leave without explanation the two acquiesced. With a sad look back at Harry, Hermione followed Draco into the hall.

So, the true nature of things had been exposed. On one hand, a friend had been saved and Draco had not poisoned him. Draco had saved her life last night as well. He had to be innocent, maybe not of infidelity but of murder at the very least. On the other hand what of Harry? What had Voldermort done to him? Had it been Voldermort getting into his head again coupled with the dementors that made him like that? He may have been acting like a jerk at times lately, but she honestly didn't know what she would do if anything happened to her best friend. She honestly didn't know what would become of anyone if anything happened to Harry now with the prophecy and all. The Prophecy- that was it!

A/N: Can you figure out what Hermione just thought of? I'd love to hear what you think! Did you enjoy the action sequence or Hermione's little awkward moment? Lol. I've had that in mind for so long it was great fun to finally write! Please leave a review and I'll have another fast up-date for you. Thanks for reading! (Almost done with Part II and it looks like there will be 5 parts in all, the last one being the shortest.)