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Beyond the Pale	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 81362 -:- Recommendations : 11 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does, lucky woman. I make no money from this, which is probably why I'm poor as a church mouse.

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Hey everyone. I got stuck while writing Fooling Fate so I decided to try something a bit lighter. Don't worry, I'm not quitting it, just needed a breather. This little ditty came to me the other night and I had to type it out to get it out of my brain. This starts at the end of OotP.

Hermione sighed and massaged her aching chest as she closed the book she had been staring at for the last ten minutes. Reading usually calmed her but the words seemed to blur together on the page. She’d been out of the hospital wing for two days. Scenes from their fight at the Ministry flashed through her mind, right up until Dolohov cursed her. It still hurt tremendously but she’d put on her brave face so Madam Pomfrey would release her. At least she didn’t have to take those nasty potions anymore.

“Don’t you ever give it a rest Granger?”

Hermione jerked her head up to see Malfoy sneering at her. Crabbe and Goyle were at his heels, looking rather giddy to find her alone. She knew better than to be in the library so close to curfew but Harry was almost unbearable to be around lately. She knew he took the loss of Sirius very badly but sometimes it became too much for her to stand.

“What do you care Malfoy?” she asked tiredly as she pulled herself up, ignoring the pain flaring in her chest.

“Who said I cared about you, you filthy little mudblood?” Malfoy spat.

“Then why ask?” She flicked her wand and sent her book back to its shelf.

“You’re polluting the air,” Malfoy said feebly.

“Then you are welcome to go elsewhere,” Hermione said softly. She just didn’t have the energy to fight anymore.

Malfoy seemed to be taken aback at her timid behavior. Normally she would have come back with a scathing reply. “I-I want to be here.”

Hermione sighed. This exchange was almost pathetic. “Then have at it Malfoy. I’m going.” She made to leave but realized that Crabbe and Goyle were blocking the door. “You know, this would go a lot easier if your goons would move.”

“Why should they Granger?”

“I was under the impression that you’d like it if I left. The easiest way to solve that is to get out of the way.”

“What in the fuck is wrong with you?” Malfoy yelled.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Right now? I’d like to leave and my path is blocked.”

Malfoy stared at her for a long moment, his icy grey eyes burning holes in her skin. He seemed to stare through her. The intensity made her want to shiver but she repressed it, not wanting the pain that went with it. What was with him anyway?

“Something’s wrong with you Granger. Crabbe, Goyle, get out of her way so we won’t have to put up with the mudblood anymore.”

The two large boys obediently lumbered sideways. Once she had a big enough opening, she glided out the door, well aware of the eyes that were still on her back. What did he mean there was something wrong with her? She just didn’t want to fight right then. In fact, she’d had enough fighting for a lifetime.

She’d never share it with Harry, but she was still sick over the fact that he didn’t listen to her. Furthermore, she blamed herself for not putting her foot down and getting Professor Snape earlier. Sure he was a git, but she was certain he would have stopped Harry had he known. If she had just insisted a bit harder…or ran and told as soon as she knew…something. Now Harry had lost the closest thing he’d ever had to a parent. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like returning to the common room to face them.

Keeping an eye out for Mrs. Norris, she slunk to the main door and left the castle. Perhaps a walk in the night air would help her clear her head. With Voldemort exposed and many of his Death Eaters in Azkaban, she would be semi-safe, not that she was going to let her guard down. The warm night air blowing through her hair had a calming effect and before she knew it, she found herself at the black lake. She spotted a flat boulder by the water’s edge and sat down. The moonlight was beautiful as it reflected across the ripples in the water. The giant squid’s tentacles briefly slipped above the water to swat at a bug before returning below.

Everything was peaceful out here. There were no tests, no one to judge her, and most importantly, no Harry to watch suffer. Seeing the anguish in his eyes as he blamed himself was excruciating. Harry’s heart was in the right place, his thoughts only on saving Sirius…who ended up being safe until Harry’s brash rescue mission. A sob escaped her chest before she realized it, causing an agonizing pain to shoot across her back and shoulders. This was why she hadn’t allowed herself to cry yet. It hurt much more than it should. Still, didn’t she deserve the pain?

Finally, the tears fell, droves of them soaking her face and clothing. In fact, she cried so hard she hardly noticed when it started raining. The cool water cascading down her body soon chilled her but she didn’t care. How could she? She had failed Harry, failed her best friend. How could she have been so stupid? Of course the Order had other ways to contact Sirius. Why couldn’t she have figured that one out? Why did she let Harry go through with using Umbridge’s floo?

“What’s a tasty little morsel like you doing about on a night like this?”

Hermione gasped and spun around, wand out in front of her. There was no one there.

“And with only a bit of a stick as protection?”

She spun back around, eyes blurry from tears as she tried to see the strange man talking to her.

“Bit slow, aren’t you little one?”

She turned again to see a man leaning up against a tree and buffing his fingernails as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “W-who are you?”

“Me? I’m hungry,” he purred, his eyes glowing indigo in the bright moonlight. “And you look like a very tasty snack.”

“No,” Hermione breathed as she watched the man’s eyeteeth elongate. He was a vampire.

“You think you taste bad?” The vampire smirked at her and stalked closer at a leisurely pace. “I can smell you.” He took a great lungful of air. “Delicious.”

“S-stay away!” Hermione ordered weakly, backing up as quickly as she could. She wracked her brain for a spell, any spell that could help her out. Light! Vampires burned in the light. “Lumos!”

Light flared from her wand but the vampire only hissed and moved closer at a steady pace. He seemed to enjoy the chase.

“Clever little girl…but not clever enough. You see, my kind don’t have any problems with artificial light. A torch isn’t going to do much.”

Shit. What was she going to do? She couldn’t remember the spell that mimicked sunlight. What else was a vampire sensitive to? Wooden stakes? No, she could conjure one but she couldn’t direct it to his heart…and he’d be too fast for that anyway. Garlic? No, that was a muggle falsehood. Maybe a crucifix? She conjured a stick and crossed it with her wand.

The vampire merely laughed. “How delightful. You’ve been watching movies. I can assure you, two mere twigs won’t stop me.”

Hermione stumbled back into a tree, cursing her stupidity. That was what he was doing all along, cornering her like a rat. Think Hermione, think! Silver! Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember the spell to cast silver. Why was she suddenly so forgetful?

“You can feel it, can’t you little one? Your mind is cloudy,” the vampire purred as he closed the distance.

She noticed it then, the hazy fog that threatened to take over her mind. It was hard to think and she was positive she couldn’t move any longer. All she could do was breath in his intoxicating scent, candy floss and peppermint, her two favorite treats. She’d read about this, how vampires lured their pray with scent.

“Just give in little one, and you’ll feel so good.”

Hermione inhaled sharply. The vampire was now inches from her face. He was much taller than he appeared at first, at least a foot and a half taller than her small 5’4” frame. His blond hair glowed in the moonlight, brushing across his eyes in a way that reminded her of Malfoy when he forgot to gel his hair back. Why was she thinking about Malfoy? Oh right, the hair. He bent his head, lips hovering a hairs breadth away from her neck when she suddenly found the power to talk.

“P-please don’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want to die.”

“Mmm. Music to my ears. You beg so pretty little one. It makes my cold heart sing. Perhaps I’ll give you a gift, if you’re good.”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

Hermione managed to glance past her would-be killer to see a woman stomping across the grounds. Her eyes also glowed indigo, long locks whipping about her face. She looked fierce…and angry.

“I saw her first,” her vampire said. Wait, he wasn’t her vampire, was he?

“I don’t care!” The woman spat. “She is under my protection and you won’t touch her.”

“And you’ve done such a marvelous job of protecting her tonight.”

“I’m here now. Let her go.”

Hermione watched with morbid fascination as the male vampire spun around and squared off with the female. She knew she should run but she couldn’t. Her feet seemed to be glued to the ground. It became increasingly difficult to concentrate on escaping so she settled for watching the two vampires fight. The woman was on a tangent, railing about how the grounds were protected by magic and all the students therein belonged to her and her mate. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder who the woman’s mate was. Her accent was American, which struck Hermione odd. Could vampires cross continents? She thought they couldn’t cross water.

“She’s mine!” the man screamed viciously and lunged for Hermione before she could even blink.

The first thing that registered was pain, searing pain in her neck. Then there was a pleasurable pulse followed by a sick sucking sound. Her eyes had gone out of focus so her only her senses told her what happened next. The sound stopped, replaced by the sound of twigs snapping followed by an unearthly howl. A horrible hissing reached her ears along with the crackling sound of a fire consuming wet bark. It was then that the burning started. She screamed hoarsely.

“I know little one,” the woman cooed. She felt herself be lowered to the ground. Her eyes refocused for only a moment to see the woman’s eyes. They weren’t glowing anymore, which she found strangely odd.

“B-“ Hermione tried to speak but a gurgling sound replaced it. She panicked, realizing what had happened. The vampire had ripped her throat open.

“Shh, don’t speak. I can repair this but you have to be very still. Can you do that for me little one? Blink your eyes once if you understand.”

Hermione let her eyes fall shut and then struggled to open them again. The burning had started to work its way to her neck. It was a pain that she’d never felt before, not even from Dolohov’s curse. A cold liquid splashed against the boiling skin but it only cooled it for a moment. Tears fell from her eyes unbidden as the pain spread.

“I know little one, it hurts but it feels worse than it is. It’s almost healed. Here, drink this.”

The woman tipped a cool bottle to her lips and Hermione grimaced, recognizing the taste. It was a blood replenishing potion. It only seemed to make the burning worse.

“Burn,” Hermione scratched out.

“What?” The woman’s voice was flat, hollow.

“It burns,” Hermione managed to rasp out before she felt the burning reach the base of her neck. She let out another hoarse cry into the night, the pain choking her.

“That son of a bitch!” The woman shrieked. “He injected you with his venom. You’ll die soon and then you’ll rise again…as a vampire.”

“No!” Hermione coughed and tried to claw her way out of the woman’s arms.

“Shh, it isn’t so bad,” the woman said weakly, her arms easily holding Hermione down. “I mean, you’ll never have to sleep again. Think of all the studying you can do.”

“No,” Hermione said weakly. She didn’t want to be a vampire. She didn’t want her soul to be damned.

“I understand,” the woman said softly. “My mate will probably kill me for this but…” she sighed. “I can’t stand to see one so young become dark. There is one other thing that I can do. I can suck the venom out but I need you to listen closely to what you are agreeing to. Can you understand?”

Hermione nodded as best she could, her body feeling weaker by the second as the burning started getting worse.

“You’re going to turn, little one. The venom has spread too far to reverse the process. However, if I suck the venom out, your soul can still be saved. You won’t die but…well, it won’t be pleasant. You’ll still burn. I’ll have to take almost all of your blood, down to the last drop. Then I will need to feed you mine. That will seal your fate. You’ll be a vampire, a modified one at any rate. You see, I’m different from others of my kind. I can walk among the light. I’m impervious to silver...and I still have my soul. If you don’t drink my blood, you will die but you won’t turn. This will be the end. What is your choice?”

A vampire with a soul that can walk among the light? How was that possible? Still, Hermione only had one thought in her mind. Harry. If she gave up now, died willingly, then she couldn’t help him. She’d already failed him once. She couldn’t do it again. “Turn me,” she rasped, fighting against the pain that seemed to form in her chest.

“Very well, little one. You will have to fight during your change. Are you willing to fight?”

“Yes,” she whispered as her eyes fell closed, too heavy to hold open anymore.

“What are you doing?”

Hermione would recognize Professor Snape’s booming baritone anywhere. Unfortunately, she had very little strength left to acknowledge him and let him know that she was alright. He couldn’t stop her now.

“There is no choice left,” the woman spoke. “She’s been injected with venom.”

“No!” Snape cried, horror evident in his voice. “It’s not too late.”

“It is,” the woman said sadly. “It’s almost to her heart.”

“No, she’s too young,” Snape whispered.

“She’s agreed to turning my way. Please Sev. Please help me.”

Hermione’s mind was sluggish but she registered that last plea. The woman had called Professor Snape Sev, like she knew him. The Professor could help then. She didn’t know how but he could help her live. She had to let him know she wanted this. “H-help p-please,” she whispered with her last bit of strength.

Knees touched the ground beside her head. The feeling of a warm cloak brushed against her arm and she felt wet tendrils of hair slide against her cheek. Lips brushed her ear as she heard the deep rumbling voice of her Potions Master. “Alright Hermione.”

She felt the same piercing pain from earlier in both sides of her neck now. Hair threatened to suffocate her. She thrashed weakly against the pain and the cold that seeped into her body. The burning receded into her throat before finally leaving her body in blissful numbness. The pleasure hit then, waves of warmth and butterflies in her stomach until she felt her core heat up. She squeezed her thighs together in embarrassment and a weak attempt to stave off the aching she felt in her nether region.

“Let it go Hermione,” Snape’s silky voice whispered in her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed. It will help with your transformation. Let it go.”

The pain was back for a split second before the pleasure engulfed her again. Hermione wanted to hold back again but she remembered the Potion Master’s words. It would help with the transformation. She didn’t know why she trusted him but he had always proved himself worthy in the end. So, this time, when the wave increased to an unbearable crescendo, she rode with it and let go. Her muscles spasmed and pleasure sparked through her body. Her thoughts briefly hovered on the fact that her first orgasm had been at the hands of her professor and a vampire. If she had any blood left, she might have blushed. Instead, her body grew cold, limbs hanging heavy and useless, breathing labored. She was dying.

“Drink!” Snape ordered.

Hermione fought through the fog to obey. Something warm and wet was thrust at her lips and she struggled to open her mouth. Thick coppery liquid poured through her lips and she gagged at the taste. This must be the vampire’s blood. She struggled to swallow four or five of mouthfuls before her body seized up entirely. She couldn’t move anymore…but she could hear.

“Damn it. It’s taken her already,” the vampire cried in despair.

“She swallowed a good amount. It should be enough,” Snape assured her.

“But what if it isn’t?”

“Then you did your best…and saved her from a horrible fate.”

“This is all my fault,” she sobbed. “I only looked away for a few moments.”

Snape sighed. “That is all it takes.”

“What in the fuck was he doing in the forbidden forest anyway? He was a muggle!”

“It isn’t unheard of,” Snape murmured. “Vampires are drawn to people, after all.”

“I know that!” she spat. “Still, a magical forest isn’t usually a place you’d want to have a lie in, is it?”

“Perhaps he didn’t know.”

“It’s possible,” the woman hedged. “He called her wand a twig. Still, he shouldn’t be able to see the castle.”

Snape sighed. “Vampires are considered magical creatures.”

“So the wards recognize it,” the woman said flatly. “Fuck!”

“Indeed,” Snape drawled. “We need to get her inside. Luckily it is well after curfew.”

“She’ll have to stay in your chambers, Sev. No one can know.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Snape spat.

Hermione felt her body lift off the ground. Two strong arms cradled her into a hard, warm chest. The smell of potions and smoke filled her nostrils. They remained silent for a while. It was like a dream. She sensed the castle getting closer, heard the doors open and close. Footfalls echoed down the hallway. Portraits whispered. Somewhere, water dripped onto the floor. The air grew colder and damp. Another door opened and closed before she was enveloped in warmth. She felt her body shift before she rolled onto something soft. Her wet clothes disappeared from her body only to be replaced with something soft and warm.

“I’m sorry Sev,” the woman whispered. “I know you know the dangers. I just…I’ve only done this once before.”

“I know,” Snape said softly. “Come here.”

Soft wet sounds filled the air. It couldn’t be. Was Professor Snape…snogging…a vampire? It was too surreal for her brain to process. Before she could wrap her mind around the idea, the sounds stopped. Rustling fabric indicated that someone was close to her. A dip by her feet let her know that someone was sitting with her now. It was mildly comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone…but still strange. Seriously. Snape snogging anyone was mind boggling but a vampire? She felt hands raise her upper body and something slide underneath. When she was lowered, she discovered it was a body, a very male body. What was happening?

“She has to go home tomorrow,” Snape said close to her ear. Calloused fingers carded through her damp hair, dislodging a tangle now and then.

“That’s impossible,” the woman answered. Fingers were now sliding up and down her legs and feet, not in an untoward way, just leisurely as if trying to reassure her that she was okay. “You know the turning takes a week. Besides, she’ll be ravenous afterwards. We can’t send her back home. She’ll have no self-control.”

“Potter and Weasley will get suspicious,” Snape sighed. “She’ll at least have to be on the Hogwarts Express. After that, we can take her home.”

“Yes, one or two things wrong with that plan Sev. First, she’ll begin burning soon. One of us needs to be here to help her through it. Second, that burning will last the entire week, negating any impromptu train rides home. Third, what of her parents?”

“First, I plan to be here with her through her transformation,” Snape began in an agitated voice. “She is my child too, in case you have forgotten.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the woman growled. “Why do you always have to be so damned difficult?”

“You are being deliberately obtuse.”

“Sorry. I’ve only ripped a vampire to pieces, burned him alive, and turned a poor, innocent, and emotionally unstable girl into a bloodsucking beast. Pardon me if I seem a bit scattered this evening.”

“Now who is being difficult?” Snape drawled.

“Gee, wonder where I learned it?”

“Keep it up and you’ll end up bare arsed over my knees,” Snape said in a dangerously low voice. Hermione thought she would have shivered at the tone if she could move.

“Promise?” The vampire’s voice sounded hopeful, eager even.

“Undoubtedly,” Snape said, the smile in his voice apparent.

“I’ll be sure to mark my calendar,” the woman said dryly. “Now, would you care to enlighten my addled brain with your brilliance?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Snape chuckled. “You will take polyjuice to impersonate her and take the train home with her friends. I have every confidence that you have observed her enough to mimic her mannerisms. As for her parents, for now, I will extend an invitation for her to study over the summer. If they don’t agree, send word and we’ll go from there.”

“A sound plan,” the woman said softly.

Silence descended upon them. Hermione felt strangely calm about everything, considering what she had just been through. Professor Snape’s strong hands stroking her scalp and the vampire’s delicate ones gently massaging her calves and feet lulled her into a blissful state somewhere between sleep an awake. She felt safe, like nothing could touch her as long as these two were here. Hadn’t Snape called her his child? Yes, something about being as much his child as hers.

She was missing something. When vampires turned someone, they called their victims their children. Children looked to their sire to protect them until they were strong enough to survive on their own. So, that meant she was the vampire’s child. What had the vampire said? She had a mate. Snape snogged her. Was he her mate? Maybe that was why she was his child? Her head hurt from spinning in circles trying to figure everything out.

She drifted along in a sea of numbness until she felt a tickle in her stomach. It was almost like she had indigestion. The pain intensified in increments until she wanted to cry out, beg them to make it stop. Tears flowed down her cheeks but she was still unable to speak. Why couldn’t she call out?

“It has begun,” the vampire said softly.

“Hermione,” Snape murmured in her ear. “I need you to listen carefully. Your transformation has started. The pain you feel is your body accommodating your new form. When you wake, you will have reached your adult appearance. You’ll be stronger, faster, have heightened senses, and gain the powers of a vampire such as shapeshifting and mind control. What you absolutely must not do is give into the pain of the change. You’ll meet the darkness, meet it head on. It will try to lure you with false promises. It will tell you it can take away the pain but all it will do is take your soul. You must fight it. After a few minutes, you will have the ability to move in small increments. Should you ever need help, all you need to do is simply squeeze the hand you are holding on to. It will never leave yours.”

Hermione did feel a hand slide into her grasp, a strong calloused one. It felt strange, holding her professor’s hand but at the same time, she felt a bit better, safer. A new wave of burning crashed into her, working its way through her limbs now and up her chest. It was excruciating, worse than anything she could ever imagine. She remembered what Harry had said about the cruciatis, how it felt like his bones were snapping. This was worse.

Telling time was a paradox. It could have been mere minutes but it seemed like hours. Her hand throbbed and she squeezed it to try and make it stop. She heard a sharp intake of breath and wondered if she had done something wrong to upset her father. Wait, her father? Was she already thinking of Professor Snape as her father?

“It is okay my child,” Snape drawled. “I feel it too. I am your father. I will explain more later. For now, take comfort. I will protect you.”

Hermione let out an involuntary sigh, the professor’s strange words soothing her nerves. Another wave of pain hit and she whimpered, realizing that it was aloud now. She felt another hand, this one far more delicate than the first, slip into her other hand. She gasped as a feeling of comfort flowed through her before the pain came back full force. She squeezed as tight as she could.

“It is okay my child,” the vampire crooned. “I feel it too. I am your mother. Take comfort. I will protect you.”

The last thought that went through Hermione’s mind was one of safety before the pain turned to blackness.

* * *

Burning. She was burning alive. Why? Who had set her on fire? Why couldn’t she open her eyes? What was she lying on? Were those legs? Where was she? She tried to sit up but couldn’t. Hands squeezed her hands and calm flooded her veins.

“Rest child, we are here with you,” a woman said softly.

Memories came flooding back. She was by the black lake, overwrought with emotion. A vampire…ripped her throat open. A woman, vampire, offered her a way out. Gods it hurt.

“Rest child,” Snape drawled and ran his hand through her hair.

Blackness overtook her again.

* * *

Her bones were being broken. Was someone holding her in a cruciatis? Had she managed to be captured by Death Eaters? She shook in fear.

“Shh, child. I will protect you,” Severus drawled. “Your mother has gone to take your place. She will return shortly. Don’t worry. You are safe.”

It was funny how those words made her feel calm. This time the memories weren’t quite as jarring. It was like watching a bad film, images blurry and jumpy but she remembered this time. She was turning…turning to help Harry. She would be strong for him.

A wave of pain unmatched so far rippled through her body and she let out an unearthly scream. What felt like hours later, the pain subsided and left her in a blissful darkness.

* * *

Pain. Why was pain so familiar now? She was being boiled alive. Had she fallen into a cauldron? No. She was turning. It didn’t take her long now to remember. She hurt everywhere but it wasn’t like before, not when she’d woken up because she couldn’t stand it anymore. No, something else had happened. Something…wonderful…and safe. Mother. Her vampire mother. Her mother had returned!

“I take it they accepted?” Snape, her father asked softly.

“Yes,” her mother answered. “They weren’t happy but I just had to look crushed and they caved immediately. She has wonderful parents.”

“How are we to do her any justice?”

“We do our best, Sev.”

Pain lanced through Hermione’s heart. Her parents, her muggle parents. She had to find a way to protect them. If Voldemort found them, they’d be dead. She couldn’t let that happen. When her transformation was over, she was going to take their memories and hide them. If they didn’t know who she was, then they weren’t in as much danger. Maybe she could move them to a foreign country where the Death Eaters wouldn’t bother to look.

Another pain shot through her, this one worse than any other. She wanted it to stop, anything to make it stop.

“You want it to stop?”

Yes! Yes she wanted it to stop. What would it take?

“It won’t take much. You won’t even notice. Painless. Just say yes and the pain will disappear.”

Wait. Snape had said that darkness would try to lure her with false promises. But the voice sounded so sweet, just like Ron’s when he offered her another chocolate frog in the Hospital Wing. Still, Snape said it wouldn’t make the pain stop, only take her soul. She wanted her soul.

“Don’t you want the pain to stop?”

Hermione felt the weight of the decision looming. Yes she wanted the pain to stop but she wanted her soul. What was she going to do? She squeezed her hands in panic.

“Fight it,” Snape hissed. “It lies! The darkness lies. Don’t be like me Hermione. Don’t listen to the darkness. It only wants to consume you.”

“Don’t listen to him,” the darkness argued back in her mind. “You want the pain to stop? I can take it away. I love you. I’ll do it for you.”

Another wave of pain radiated through her body. Nothing was worse than this. It was impossible.

“It doesn’t love you Hermione,” her mother spoke. “It lies. It wants your soul, nothing else. It will take it and you’ll still be in pain. There is no way to take it away. You must suffer to keep your soul sweetheart. Listen to me. You’re stronger than this. You can survive.”

She was stronger than this. Was that possible? Pain laced every fiber of her being. How could she be stronger than this?

“Don’t listen Hermione,” Snape urged. “Don’t be like me. I surrendered to the darkness once and all I received was pain and anguish. There was no respite. Don’t listen. Fight it. You’re stronger than this.”

Her mother and father continued taking turns urging her to resist the darkness. It seemed to go on forever, the pain and pleading from the darkness. She wanted to cry, scream, shout how unfair life was, just die. She did none of those things. Harry wouldn’t give up. She would not fail him again.

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU! GO AWAY!” She screamed over and over again at the darkness like a mantra until her voice was hoarse and she couldn’t cry out anymore. The pain seemed to lower to a dull roar before blackness took her again.

* * *

Snippets of time floated by. Pain. Soothing words. Gentle caresses. Blackness. Repeat. How long had she been in this state? Through it all, she realized that her parents never moved from her side. How were they faring? Didn’t her mother have to feed? What about her father? Didn’t he have to eat, bathe, move? How incredibly selfish had she been to keep their hands in a death grip? As this thought slipped out, she realized that the pain was now a dull burn in her throat and her belly.

“It is time my child,” her mother said softly. “It is time to wake up. Wake up Hermione.”

Hermione struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. The first thing she noticed was that there was no light in the room, yet she could see perfectly. Her eyes zeroed in on the black orbs of her Potions Master…and father.

He smiled down at her, an odd expression on his normally scowling face. “Welcome to your new life my child.”

AN: So there we go. What do you guys think? Is it worth continuing? Drop me a line and let me know. *skitters off to write some more*
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Beyond the Pale