Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the follows, I appreciate the support. Chapter took longer than I'd like and was rather difficult to write, still getting in the swing of things so I apologize for any errors. Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions or concerns.
The Rules Of Engagement
Chapter Eight: Pulse
A sharp gasp erupted from pink lips, breath short and labored as brown eyes sprung opened to reveal a Van Gogh like setting. Slowly shapes started to take form; vision clearing enough to reveal an intricately painted ceiling, gothic like in structure with concrete pillars and beams interlocking.
Hermione's world slowly came back to her as she tried to discern where she was. The smell of potions and galvanized metal filled her nostrils and she fought the urge the vomit before pushing herself upright up on shaking limbs. Fingers clung to soft bed sheets as she felt her body mold into the mattress below her, brown eyes flicking back and forth as the young witch started to piece together where she was.
Her hearing had still not returned but muffled voices echoed in her ear drums as she tried to move herself forward only to feel a slight tug on her limbs. Her gaze traveled downwards towards her arms to find thin, magical tendrils leading from them to a sphere like object placed behind her bed. The tendrils flickered as she tried to pull her arms free and she felt a slight jolt when their elasticity returned. She had seen these before, a few years ago when Seamus had fallen from scaffolding during one of their field missions, she was in a Mediward…but why?
Her skull instantly throbbed. Flashes of brick and mortar, dust and glass cascading across her cheek as she clawed at a hand around her neck; its vice like grip getting tighter with every second. The young witch doubled over as the images flashed in her mind, the throbbing in her skull intensifying with each passing moment.
"'Ermione!"
She registered soft arms wrapped around her and the scent of lavender invaded her senses; the sterile smell from earlier being overshadowed by the presence now holding her. She felt her head being coaxed back gently as she shook in pain, gentle hands placing themselves on either side of her head as a pair of thumbs massaged her temples.
"Shhh, please Mon Chéri… you must be still. You will tear 'ze Vitus lines."
The words were whispered softly, the tips of her ears tingling as recognition slowly came to her consciousness.
"Fleur…"
She barely recognized her own voice. It sounded hoarse and when she tried to swallow there was a dryness that her throat could not dispel.
"Yes, it iz me but please try to relax."
Hermione was soothed monetarily by a soft hand caressing her cheek, finger tips tracing her hair line as worried eyes gazed down upon her.
"The wand… Fleur…where is Ron?" The young witch inquired weakly, her body lurching forward again only to be gently pushed back by the French Auror.
"Your wand is safe, pleaze you must rest."
Hermione only groaned in slight frustration but more in pain as she was again coaxed back down.
"She is as stubborn as always eh?"
Hermione instantly stiffened at the sound of the familiar Bulgarian accent.
Viktor…
He was dressed to the nines, a form fitting tux accentuating all his perfections but his stance was rigid as he glared at Fleur. She took note that the woman was still in her gown from the Gala; how much time had passed? How long had she been out? She felt the woman heave a deep sigh, her fingers running soothingly through Hermione's brown locks before she stood and slowly made her way to the seeker; a sizable distance between them.
"As alwayz, but right now she needs to rest."
Hermione watched the exchange with fascination. There was a respect there, maybe left over from the tournament all those years ago but yet something else was present; something she could not place. She supposed that whatever it was; it was the cause of the physical rift they had between one another other presently.
The seeker rubbed the back of his neck, gripping it tightly before regarding the French woman again; his gaze determined.
"Der is a strange feeling of Déjà vu here Delacour. Again here she is: beaten and bruised when 'Der have been promises made 'Dat 'Dis would not happen." The Bulgarians tone was firm as he slipped his now shaking hand from his neck into his pocket as if to hide his wavering restraint.
Fleur seemed to let out a long breath before speaking. "She is a field Auror Viktor, 'Zis is her line of work. She knew full and well, as all who assume 'ze position do, 'zat 'zis is an occupational 'azard."
"An occupational hazard…occupational… She was at a glorified dinner party for Merlin's sake, 'Dis was no occupational hazard Fleur. I saw you with her... one minute she was 'Der the next she was in Shanghai? You let 'Dis happen." He hissed taking a step forward, his other hand clenching into a fist as his nostrils flared at the blonde Auror.
"She wanted anotherz attention, I waz merely giving her 'ze space she so eagerly desired from me." She retorted, matching his step.
"Oh is 'Dat it? Of course it would be, you have not changed. You have let your pettiness and jealousy forge a situation that could have been controlled or even avoided." Viktor seethed as he crossed the distance into the French Aurors personal space. The blonde to her credit did not even bat an eyelash, simply clicking her tongue before meeting his fiery gaze; her voice only slightly above a whisper.
"I would be careful Viktor; 'Ze 'ouse you are standing in is made of glass and you are 'olding a very large stone. It would bode well for you to not have 'zis conversation in present company."
Their eyes slowly met Hermione's as the brunette desperately tried to understand what was unfolding in front of her. But it was too much, too much Calming Draught mixed with Murtlap Essence, too much light shining into her eyes, too much left unfinished. With a groan of frustration she tore her gaze away from the former champions and lurched forward, one of the magical tendrils being pulled so taut it snapped; vanishing in a burst of light and magical fragments. They were soon by her side, gently trying to coax her back down as she struggled to free herself.
"The wand… I need that wand. Ronald…he… Where is Ronald?"
"Hermione please, do not fight 'De potions you need your rest." Viktor pleaded, his eyes beseeching.
For a brief moment she considered it, stopping all this and just letting sleep over take her; Merlin knew she needed it. She felt Fleurs soft hands move around her shoulders; their grip slightly tight but with an undertone of gentleness that strangely seemed to give her strength and spurred her on further.
"I have to find Ronald… Alabasters….the wand, I have to get it!" She ground out, pushing more against her caregivers. Viktor's grip slid to her side and she was instantly overcome with a sharp pain; like knives slicing the side of her open and needles jabbing into the raw flesh afterwards. The young witches hand gripped the athlete's shoulder, a pulse pushing him back with such a force that he flew across the ward crashing into the potions cart stationed near the door.
Hermione's gaze met Fleurs, the blonde Auror simply sighed before placing her hands on either side of the young witches head; a knowing glint in her eyes.
"Fleur…I didn't…how did I…" She stuttered out, her body shaking fiercely.
"Shhhh, être calmer mon amour, dormir maintenant." Hermione heard Fleur whisper softly before feeling soft finger tips press into her temples and her world go black.
2 hours earlier…
The trio stood silently in the elevator as it slowly made its accession to their rendezvous point; Hermione's finger tips worrying one of the loose threads from her jacket as she eyed the simple wooden box in her hand.
"I would never have believed a muggle could…ever… I mean it's a wand for Merlin's sake." Seamus muttered, breaking the silence.
"No offense Hermione…"
She simply shrugged as she turned the box in her hand. "We have a penchant for not leaving well enough alone; it's our gift and curse."
Ron nodded solemnly before taking the box from her hand and stuffing it into his pants pocket.
"You also have a penchant for taking your work home with you, I'll hold on to it and we'll look at it in the morning, all right?"
She could feel Seamus and Ron's insistent body language as she stared them down before shrugging her shoulders in defeat.
"Thank you, 'Mione. Like I've always said: you need to sort out your priorities."
The Irishman nodded in agreement as the elevator jerked to a halt, a sharp ring indicating they had reached the top as the set of doors opened to reveal their port key stationed in the middle of the room.
Hermione was the first to exit and instantly a feeling of uneasiness overtook her. Her counter parts seemed to take no notice as they made their way around her and towards the construction hat that Seamus had enchanted as their exit point; too caught up in their own conversation to notice the young witch's concerned scowl.
"You and Susan make up then?" Ron asked as they kneeled down on either side of the port key; hands hovering over it at the ready.
"Eh, I came home sloshed…we shagged…shagged again and now she's just slightly perturbed with me rather than full raging bitch." Seamus chuckled.
Ron simply smiled before replying. "So…you're happy then?"
The Irishman's lips curled slowly into a beaming smile. "Aye man, I'm over the moon."
It was then they seemed to notice the absence of their third. Seamus eyed the witch curiously as she stood a few feet away, her scowl growing deeper.
"Oi, Hermione? We're going yeah?"
She blinked rapidly suddenly noticing how far she had fallen behind. This feeling was familiar but she couldn't place it, she wasn't sure but something felt out of sorts and the feeling only got stronger as she made her way towards them.
Seamus gave her a reassuring smile as she kneeled down in front of them and closed her eyes to prepare herself.
"Count of three…" Seamus breathed, trying to steady himself.
"One…"
Hermione's eyes instantly shot open, something was not right.
"Two…"
She started to become panicked as the feeling intensified tenfold, her body shifting uncomfortably and eyes darting around the room. Ron took notice first and he gently set his hand on her side, giving her a reassuring smile before closing his eyes. She relented and did the same but the overwhelming panic still held her as she tried to steady her breathing.
"Three…"
There's a pull when using a Port Key akin to that of apparition or using the Floo network, they all had different ranges but it always started with a pull. Hermione felt that pull, that slight tug forward as the world around her started to blur. She always closed her eyes, never able to take the full rotation of the Port Key without feeling like she would empty her insides but for some reason she defied her ritual and opened them.
It happened in seconds, one moment she was being pulled forward the next she caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned in response only to see a pair of long arms and bulging shoulders wrap around her body.
She felt and heard it then, the undeniable force of apparition and a loud pop before she felt herself pulled this way and that. She could feel her body being molded and skewed; almost as if her insides were trying to escape through the top of her skull. Apparition never had finesse no matter how calm the mind; but this…this was unnecessarily rough and chaotic. She finally felt herself resurface but the force of it sent her straight into what felt like a cement wall, her body seized at the force of it and she landed on her stomach only adding to her disorientation.
When her vision cleared a leather clad boot came into view. Her eyes traced the slightly worn material; plums of dust billowing over it in staccato like patterns from her ragged breath.
"Bit of a harsh ride ain't it Princess?" The voice was male and had traces of youth but forced maturity. American, southern from what she could gather.
She cast her eyes upwards, following the boot up strong legs and a thick torso to be greeted by a devious grin. Whoever this man was he had pulled her mid port, something not easily accomplished but from his relaxed stance it seemed he had done this before. Clever, using apparition to assist with the pull, she'd have to remember that. Her captor snorted, taking in her surprised gaze as he knelt down to her level, his eyes a pale blue that projected a large ego and a significant amount of over confidence.
"I couldn't have your friends coming back for you. This way you'll have plenty of time to talk without any interruptions." He drawled, an over pronounced smile plastered across his lips before he stood.
She slowly tried to push herself up but winced in pain when she felt a sharp tear at her side.
She had been splinched…
"Yeah I've been told that stings, sorry about that." He stepped over her and out of view; she could faintly hear voices as she tried to let her body and mind calm down enough to accept the pain. Her hand moved to her side and she instantly felt liquid there, it was no shock when she pulled it back to see her palm covered in her own blood.
'Okay Hermione, time to get it together…remember your training'. She thought to herself, muttering protection and healing spells as she tried to focus. The pain was overbearing, like being seared from the inside out, the wound was raw she knew that but she couldn't let it overcome her.
'All right… four…maybe five in the room'. Her gaze moved from one corner to the other quickly, memorizing her surroundings.
'You're up high, possibly in the adjacent building. Windows to the right and back…Okay…you might be able to get your wand free and jinx at least three before trying anything. There's no doors though…might have to go out the window and use a levitating spell to break the fall...'
Hermione carefully moved her wand out of her jacket pocket at the sound of footsteps coming closer and quickly snuck it into the holster concealed by her sleeve. She groaned in pain as she was picked up from behind, her captor taking no sympathy for her injury as he pushed her forward and she landed with a harsh thud on her knees.
"You could not let it be…could you Suka?" She recognized the thick Bulgarian accent instantly, images of a dusty room, sharp knives and books flooding her mind.
"Emil Nayden…" She breathed, her eyes looking up to see the battered and bruised henchman from Morocco scowling down at her. He was dressed in all black, a long over coat covering his shoulders with an intricate leather sling concealed behind it. His arm must have been injured during the crash but she noted with slight pride his hand was still bandaged, the wound she left him not healing as quickly as he may have hoped.
'Must be a reason why he's here, he can't be involved with the ministry case…he's cunning but not smart enough. Three men behind him and two by the adjacent window…' Her mind quickly started to formulate a plan, was it the best plan? No, but a plan none the less.
"De little birds were whispering you had been taken off 'Dis investigation. Imagine my surprise to get a call 'Dat you had dropped by one of my favorite establishments, asking questions and taking 'Dat of which does not belong to you." He sneered; crouching down to her level, his wand twirling precariously in his hand that was hanging from the sling.
"Of course, you were never supposed to be in Morocco to begin with; so why was I surprised when you never listened in the first place?"
The young witch chuckled, almost giggled really. Of course Emil had connections to Alabasters, she made a note to investigate the shop further when she was out of this; obviously the shop was more involved in the wizarding underbelly than she thought, it could be a break for many open cases at the ministry if she could find the client list.
"I'm a muggle, I have a penchant for not leaving well enough alone." She chuckled out darkly as his scowl deepened. He gestured with a nod to the man behind her who roughly grabbed her by her curly locks, forcing her head back.
"So confident for being outnumbered; tsk you still do not understand what's going to happen to you, do you?" He ground out harshly.
"Why you here? Hm? The French will not be happy when 'Dey find out what you have been up to little one." He teased.
"I thought I'd take in the sights, get one of those little cat statues that wave…you know the usual." The young witch retorted, her eyebrow arching as if to say he should know better than to ask. He merely chuckled before back handing her, the other man's grip still holding the back of her head for balance.
"Brendon!" Emil bellowed, his gaze never leaving hers.
She felt the man behind her shift uncomfortably.
"Dis overzealous idiot was supposed to give you to me unscathed so I may have a…blank canvas to work with." She watched his eyes shift to the man who had grabbed her. Brendon's eyes were cast downward submissively, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he shook his head.
"Sorry, she gave a bit of a struggle; it was unavoidable." He mumbled as his eyes averted the furious gaze of Emils.
"She's alive at least, you are lucky you are good at what you do." Emil stated sternly before turning his attention back to the young witch.
"You are here not by accident, something else… but what? Could you have known I would be here? Did Kosta give me up? No 'Dat cannot be, he is in Gwenhael and the French are not generous enough to let near 'Der investigation. So what is it eh?"
The Bulgarian sighed heavily when he only received silence as a response, the brunettes glare determined.
"So stubborn. All right, keep your little secret; it won't be of importance anyway. I just want you to remember krasiva: I told you, sooner or later you will mind me." He whispered darkly while moving the tip of his wand along her jugular.
"And yet again you've just wasted my time …" Hermione retorted before taking a deep breath and swiftly kicking her leg upwards, the pointed end of her boot connecting directly with his temple. The Bulgarian hunched over in pain as the young Auror rolled out of the way of various hexes from his counter parts. She quickly stunned two in succession before getting to her feet and side stepping Brendon's grasp, sending him flying across the room with a quick nonverbal spell.
"Grab her!" The Bulgarian groaned as Hermione narrowly dodged a cutting spell then with a quick flick of her wrist rebounding it back towards him. Emil quickly turned just in time, the spell grazing his cheek as he growled, kicking his legs to propel him off his back and into a crouching position. The wound along her side roared with pain but she remained determined, her eyes scanning over the room for an exit point. She had little time: the American, or 'Brendon' as he was apparently called, had recovered and was already charging towards her.
She was trapped and with danger coming from all sides she could only think of one option she had left.
She had a plan…a very stupid plan.
'Merlin…such a horrible idea.' She thought before launching herself backwards out of the window, her back hitting against the glass hard before it shattered. She felt her heart hit her throat as her body went into freefall. Air rushed past her back as she descended knowing she only had a few more seconds to cast her levitating spell before she would reach the bottom. Just before Leviosa could leave her lips a hulking figure came into view, their arms out stretched and gaze murderous.
'Fuck… The American…'
He quickly grabbed her midair; only a few feet from the ground and she felt the pull of apparition over take her again, a plum of dust billowing from where they were supposed to land. One moment all she felt was stillness then the next she was being hurled into a dark alleyway against a metal dumpster, the force from her fall being used to project her hard enough to leave an indentation of her body in it. Hermione groaned in pain and sputtered for breath as she tried to find her footing, her hands gripping anywhere she could to could pull herself up.
As soon as she was able to stand he lunged at her again with a fierce yell, quickly apparating to the end of the alley way and using the force to slam her against the bricks.
"You think you're so smart huh? Is that it? I know this city like the back of my hand…there's nowhere I haven't been." He growled grabbing her again and before she knew it they were on top of the fire escape, her body halfway over the railing and teetering as he loosened the grip on the front of her jacket. She clawed desperately at his arm as he let her go, her body careening backwards over the railing and falling towards the hard concrete below. But again just before landing he caught her mid fall, apparating and using the force yet again to slam her against the opposite wall of the alley.
Hermione groaned in pain, her arm clutched tight around her side as she tried to use her other arm to crawl away from her attacker.
"Fuck this blank canvas shit! He'll get you however I see fit and when I'm done with you that splinch on your side will seem like nothing to the pain you're gonna feel sweetheart." He growled, steadily making his way towards her.
Hermione's breath came out panicked as she searched for her wand but it had fallen out of her grasp long ago. She tried for an Accio spell and reached her hand outwards, the energy from her wand tingling her finger tips but just before it could reach her grasp Brendon slapped her hand away causing the wand to suddenly veer off over the roof tops.
Knuckles and bone collided with her cheek sending her world spinning; the musk of cedar and sweat filling her senses as Brendon stood over her, his grasp tight on her collar. Suddenly she could feel everything, from the wound on her side dripping tiny rivers of blood along her abdomen to her attackers tightening fist pulling back to strike her again. She felt her pain and panic all wrapped up with his rage and power. It was an odd sensation, to be so aware suddenly and to feel everything. It was like they were moving in slow motion, she could see him clearly now; arm cocking back for another strike as her blood from his previous blow glided off his knuckles in tiny droplets. She knew this one would hurt more than the last so she braced herself, her eyes closing and her body twisting defensively as he used his grip on her collar to bring her closer.
She expected the pain but it never came. All she could feel was cool air across her bruised cheek and the breath of Brendon's heavy breathing; there was a stillness that she could not place.
Cautiously she turned to gaze at her tormentor, his eyes were bulging wide as his body shook with exertion; arm stuck in mid swing. Suddenly his back straightened and he slid backwards as though he was being pulled. His grip of her immediately broke as he clawed at his neck, straining against it but the force only seemed to increase. The young witch watched with rapt curiosity as he forcefully knelt down, a groan of agony spilling from his mouth.
"Stop…" He sputtered as his arms slammed down to his side and his back arched, the faint cracking of bones echoing throughout the alley.
The young witch shook her head in shock and disbelief as she watched the scene unfold.
"I… It's not me…I'm not…"
It was then she saw it; a faint glow from the end of the alley becoming brighter as the figure approached, its walk purposeful and full of grace. A wave of magical presence washed over the alleyway and Hermione was hit with a force so powerful she felt herself buckle, not of pain but of…something…else.
Her thoughts broke when she heard her attacker release a groan of sheer agony as the figure came into view, she was left speechless.
"Fleur…"
She was otherworldly, truly. The young witch's breath was stolen from her as she watched the blonde Aurors ethereal like form stop just behind her attackers, long lithe fingers gripping the back of his hair and arching his neck back even further.
"Brendon Wilhelm… how unfortunate that you have found yourself here tonight." Fleur murmured.
She was still dressed in her gown, Hermione noted, the bottom of it fluttering around the unseen power that Fleur seemed to unleash. Brandon's mouth hung slack as the Veela gripped the back of his head tighter, purple veins like roads on a map forming from his neck to the top of his head.
"I can feel your fear Brendon… Did you feel hers when you were' zrowing 'er around like a rag doll, hm? Do you know what 'zat feels like…? Maybe you should." She spoke evenly and simply stepped back as his body lifted into the air.
Hermione's eyes widened as awe became replaced by fear.
"No! Fleur, please…let him go." She pleaded, trying to move but her injuries had caught up to her. A roar of pain escaped her lips as she slid back against the wall.
The noise seemed to catch the Veelas attention, her pupil-less eyes showing concern in a flash of a second.
"You are badly injured…Pleaze try not to move." Fleur spoke softly. Her tone was caring and nurturing; a stark contrast from what was going on in front of her. Brendon's body strained against Fleurs magic, his joints cracking as he tried to break himself free. Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before Fleur stopped playing with him. She read enough in school about the Veela to know that he was going to die if she did not calm the French Auror down soon.
"Fleur, please… release him. I'll be all right, I need to get back to Ron and Seamus; they're bound to be worried." She reasoned but was only pushed back further by the unseen force the Veela was emitting, the blonde muttering in French before turning her attention back to Brendon's levitating form.
Fleurs prey groaned as the veins in his neck turned a deeper purple, arms curling further behind him.
'Great Hermione, somehow you've managed to piss her off even more.' The young witch thought darkly, deciding to take a different approach.
"Please, Fleur. The sooner I get medical attention the better…please just leave him be…" She implored her voice straining as she managed to get onto her feet.
It was like a switch had been flipped; the aura surrounding the blond Auror instantly faded as Brendon fell to ground with a loud thump. Fleur stepped over his hyperventilating body daintily whilst reaching her hand out to catch Hermione's wand which she had apparently silently summoned. When Fleur stopped and kneeled in front of her; she could not contain her gasp as she watched Fleurs eyes slowly start to fade back to normal. A jolt shot through her body when the French woman gently caressed her cheek her eyes showing concern.
"I will take you zomewhere safe, I know you've been 'zhrough it more 'zan you care for tonight but I must use apparition to get us 'zere. Just one last time… est-ce OK?" The words flowed out softly from pink lips and Hermione found herself strangely transfixed as she merely nodded, not being able to articulate the words needed to respond.
Fleurs eyes closed and a look of relief seemed to wash over the French woman's features before she gently turned the brunette's hands over with her palms facing up; finger tips touching hesitantly before moving down to grasp slim wrists.
"Do you trust me?" She asked, her accent barely noticeable now as she gazed into Hermione's eyes.
The young witch met Fleurs gaze fully, shaking limbs becoming still and calm before answering.
"Yes…"