Chapter 28

The black glint from the stone brought a memory crashing into Hermione's thoughts, and she was reminded of the first time she had used the time turner, in her third year. She had felt very liberated, being trusted with such powerful magic. Hermione also greatly enjoyed the independence that came with the time turner, she had been her own woman, in charge of her own destiny, and she felt that way now. I'm capable, she thought proudly, examining the stone closer. A sudden wretched temptation rose up in her, like drinking something cold and feeling it spread out in your body. She could talk to people who were beyond the veil. She could talk to Dumbledore with this...or Lupin…or Fred... The faces swirled forward in her mind, and her hand tightened on the stone.

Suddenly, Draco put his hand on her shoulder, drawing her up out of such tainted thoughts. I don't want to go to places like that, she shuddered internally, before turning her attention to the world around her, to Draco next to her who had helped her win the stone.

"You did brilliantly!" Hermione told him, beaming up at him. His face broke into an uneasy smile, clearly uncomfortable at the compliment.

"Good job, Granger," He responded, his voice unsteady, as if he was testing the words out.

"That was very eloquently done," Firenze told her, face as stately as ever.

"I will live easier now, to know that beast no longer possesses the stone," Bremelle nodded to Hermione and Draco, her bow still raised in defense.

Volan walked up to them, nose crinkled as if the stone had an odor. "Tell us, what will you do now? What decision has this development set in motion?" he asked, eyes setting deeply into Hermione's own.

Her shoulder sagged at the question. She only had a vague, abstract idea of what would come next. She was exhausted, utterly drained from the nightmare she was living in. Her stomach was empty, and she needed to rest, to gather her thoughts. The weight of her self-appointed responsibilities weighed so heavy on her.

"We need to sleep, I think, before we can do anything else. I can't think properly right now, I'm so addled," She responded, stifling a yawn with her hand. Her throat was dry, from thirst, and her stomach had sharp hunger pains making themselves present. She thought Draco must be feeling the same.

"Sleep where?" Draco asked her, his own eyes sporting black bags underneath, as if to pronounce how drained he was as well.

"I don't know," She answered honestly. She had never had a concrete plan to begin with and had not yet mapped out her steps once she had the stone at all prior to obtaining it.

"We know a safe clearing. No creature will bother you there," Firenze said, taking a step closer to Hermione and extending a hand.

"Please do not use that obscenity while you are there," Volan added, pointing his chin toward the stone in Hermione's clenched fist.

"Thank you," Hermione said to Firenze, accepting his hand and letting him pull her onto his back. "And we will not," Hermione added, turning her face towards Volans.

Draco opted to walk beside Hermione and Firenze, stating that he had had enough of being carried. He looked like a zombie loping along beside them, eyes half shut and making small steps. The war had been kind to none of them, and loping along, dejected, made Draco appear almost vulnerable to Hermione in the hazy forest light. He's an orphan now, Hermione realized with a wince. Just like Teddy Lupin. She wondered what the death toll was now, and when it would be over. She had accepted the thought long ago that she wouldn't survive to see the war fully over. She was ok with that sacrifice. If she had to die so that others could live- and really live, without fear and as free as they deserved to be- than she would. She would be grateful for the opportunity. She hoped Ron would live, of course, but she knew he felt the same as her. And if she had to give up her life so that Harry could live again, she would gladly.

Firenze walked them through a thicket of Oak trees and Slowed to a halt at the tree line.

"You may rest here," he said, helping Hermione down. As she examined the space in front of her, the thought crossed her mind that she had never seen grass look so soft in her life.

"Thank you," Draco said, already lowering himself down to lean against a tree. The minute he sat back against the old looking Oak, he was asleep, chin pointed to his chest and hands folded on his lap.

"I will not be far," Firenze told her, his grey-green eyes meeting hers. "Volan and Bremelle will want to talk with you further, once you are rested and able. The rest of the herd will not want you to stay in this area too long, as it is dangerous for us all. The wizards at the castle have an insatiable lust for violence. It will not do us well if you bring their attentions here," Firenze spoke earnestly, almost apologetically.

"We won't stay long," Hermione said wistfully. "I wish I had some way to thank you all for the help. You saved our lives, and I am so grateful." She felt her eyes getting watery and fought back tears.

"We are navigating these waters together," He answered cryptically, leaving her with a small bow and disappearing into the foliage behind him.

Hermione sat down across from Draco, leaning against a tree herself. She felt so weary, so fatigued, and yet there was so much to think about. The high of getting the stone was starting to wear off now and she was left feeling as lost and defeated as ever. She didn't know much about the Resurrection stone, and had virtually no way to research it, which dismayed her endlessly. She didn't know where else to go from here, just that she probably needed to be in the castle to get the Elder wand. Or is it even there? Where could Voldemort be? Her ignorance stung her and made her feel aggravated. Truly, knowledge is power, and right now she didn't have enough knowledge to accomplish her task.

Across from her, Draco made a low noise in his throat and shifted his hands, pulling Hermione away from her thoughts. He must be having a bad dream, she thought sympathetically, no stranger to them herself. He watched both his parents die. He probably dreams about that, just like I do with Harry, and Fred, and everyone else. His parents! Hermione realized sharply. He helped me win the stone, I bet he will want to use it to speak with them, she concluded dully. She didn't know enough about the stone to know if that would be safe. She remembered the mirror of Erised from first year, and Harry's growing fixation with it. She speculated about the implications of that, while squeezing the stone in her hand. No matter how long she had held it, it was still cool, having absorbed none of her body heat.

She slumped her head back against the rough bark of the tree behind her and willed her mind to clear. She needed to rest; no good plan would form while she was this over taxed. She took one last look at Draco, and her consciousness slipped away like a wave in a calm ocean.