Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Five Days	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters/concepts from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
A/N:
Before I say this, please take into consideration that I'm not a total monster, and try not to freak until you finish the story....
But...
Warning: Main Character Death
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Day Five: Morning
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Move your legs,” Hermione said, kicking her own legs at Draco’s despite her exhaustion from having been awake for more than twenty-four hours.
“C...an’t,” Draco replied quietly, “...any......m...ore.”
“Draco, you have to move them,” she pleaded. “You can’t give-up, remember?”
“I’m...... not gon...... make it,” he said, his eyes rolling as he fought to maintain consciousness.
“No, no, no,” Hermione begged, “please... Draco, please stay with me. You’ve made it this far. Stay with me.”
“Can’t... feel...” he started to close his eyes, “...bo...dy...”
“Draco, no! Listen. You...you have to stay awake. I don’t have the strength to revive you again. Draco..."
He blinked tiredly and simply made a raspy droning noise.
“Draco,” she said, tilting her head down to speak in his ear, “talk…talk to me.”
Hermione could practically feel his body shutting down and she jostled him with her own when he fell silent. “Draco!”
“Hmm?” he hummed dazedly.
“Tell me something.”
There was a long pause and Hermione was on the verge of kicking him again when she heard his very quiet, “What?”
“Anything,” she said, her voice cracking. “Tell me…tell me why you hate me.”
Draco tried to shake his head but in his weakened state it merely rolled a fraction in one direction. “Don’t......hate,” he whispered, his quick, shallow breaths warm on her neck. “Love......you.”
“Draco,” Hermione whispered back brokenly.
“Reasons......love you,” he went on, “....your...atti......tude.”
Hermione released a hoarse chuckle as a tear trailed down her cheek.
“You’re... pushy......... don’t take... shit...”
“Nope,” she sniffled back with a weak smile.
“Your...... hair,” he breathed. “Four days... in a hole......... still smells like.........apples.”
“You’re delirious again,” she teased sadly.
“No,” he said, the word nearly inaudible as he really started to fade. “Your............ name...”
Hermione’s body shivered against his as she attempted to stifle the dread of what she knew was imminent. "My name," she prompted when he merely panted queerly. "Draco? Draco, what about my name?"
“Most........” he managed to gasp out before his head lolled back with a finality that made Hermione slam her eyes shut. Her lips trembled in the sudden silence and she eased a lid open to peer down at him. His eyes were closed. His face was lax, his mouth open slightly. He didn’t move.
“Draco?” she whispered, though the sound seemed to echo around them. “Draco. Draco!”
There was no response and Hermione released a gut-wrenching sob. Her face screwed-up as she looked miserably down at her lifeless hole-mate. She raised her shaking hand and set it tenderly against his neck.
“Draco…” she whispered pitifully when she felt no pulse. She bowed her head and placed their cheeks together as they’d done for their tandem casting and closed her eyes. “Draco,” she repeated before breaking down to sob soundly.
She pulled back and roamed her puffy eyes over his motionless face for a moment and then looked around at the walls. “I’m…get-getting you ou-out of here,” she stuttered through her tears. “Draco…I’m gonna get us out.”
She placed a kiss to his cheek and then turned her head upward to the opening high above. She made a determined face and then slammed her eyes shut tight as she gathered her strength.
“HELP!” she then screamed as loud as she could. The sound echoed intensely up and down the fissure. “HELP! SOMEONE!” She looked back at Draco’s blank face as dust from the walls sprinkled over him. “Anybody…”
Hermione’s eyes darted around then as the reality of her situation became clear and she began to panic. “Fuck!” she cried out. “Fuck! FUCK!”
She proceeded then to simply scream at the top of her lungs and wrench herself as hard as she could back and forth against Draco’s body and the stone. She thrashed desperately until her head slammed back into the wall behind her, resplitting her wound with a sickening crack. Her vision went black with the impact as unconsciousness consumed her and her head dropped forward to rest beside Draco’s.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“WEASLEY!”
“SIR!?” Ron Weasley shouted back attentively, shooting to his feet from his quiet watch as his team leader stalked up to him.
“Break down your camp. You and Marshall are to rendezvous with Potter and Longbottom over that next ridge before noon,” the man directed, pointing to a rocky cliff face in the distance.
“Yes, sir,” Ron acknowledged. The man nodded approvingly.
“Make special consideration for the terrain,” he said seriously, “this area is riddled with fissures and caverns. And make sure to follow your previous directive to scan for and collect any invasive magical plant species you come across on the way.”
“Yes, sir,” Ron said again.
“Get on with it then!” the man said before doing an about face and stomping off toward the next camp.
Ron glared at the man’s back and then jogged over to his tent.
“John!” he shouted, poking his face inside, “John, get the fuck up! We’ve got orders to move out.”
John Marshall groaned and flipped over in his camp bed to blink at his training partner.
“But it’s like five in the morning,” he grumbled. Ron stepped into the tent and immediately snatched up his rucksack and began levitating their rations and supplies into it.
“Just get up. We’ve got to meet Harry and Neville on the other side of the ridge by noon,” he explained as he worked. John groaned again, but finally pushed himself out of the low bed and stepped up to assist Ron.
“You finish up in here,” Ron said, hefting his pack over his shoulder, “I’ll start lowering the wards.”
John nodded at him and Ron ducked back out into the air and immediately halted in his tracks and dropped his pack when he heard a faint scream. He tilted his head outward listening for the sound again. When another came a few seconds later, he turned back to the tent opening.
“John! John! Get out here, quick!”
“What is it!?” John asked in alarm, rushing out.
“I…I think I heard a woman screaming.”
John frowned at him. “Out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere-”
“There it is again!” Ron said, taking off in the direction of the sound, wand at the ready. John ran after him.
“This is probably a surprise exercise,” he said, “a test to see how we handle emergencies on the go.”
“I don’t think so,” Ron said, slowing to a stop when the screaming suddenly died off. He squinted his eyes through the early morning light over the formidable landscape as John came up beside him. “It sounded…it sounded real.”
John too scanned the area with narrowed eyes. “I don’t hear anything.”
Ron pursed his lips and started tromping through and over the rocks and grasses around them as he continued to search about. He pointed his wand out before him. “Hominem revelio!” he shouted.
At once, a glowing orange orb burst forth from the tip of his wand and sped across the expanse of field. Ron and John both watched it travel and then suddenly stop a little ways in the distance, hover for a second and then plunge and disappear into the grasses.
“There!” Ron declared, pointing in the direction that the orb had gone. They both took off running to the area.
“There’s no one here,” John announced in frustration when they reached where they’d thought the orb had led them. Ron furrowed his brow deeply and cast his gaze about at the many plants obscuring the ground.
“The spell said there is,” he said surely. “Start looking!” He began scouring the area. John started in the opposite direction to cover more ground and suddenly called out.
“Hey, Ron! Look what I found!” he shouted, holding up a leather-bound journal. Ron hurried over to him and took the book in hand.
“Holy shit,” he said, looking down at it. “This…this is Hermione’s.”
“Granger?” John asked.
“Yeah,” Ron said, frowning at the still slightly soggy and water-damaged pages of the book. “Fuck, it rained two days ago!” He dropped the journal and swiveled his head around quickly. “HERMIONE!?”
“Why the hell would she be all the way out here?” John said, furrowing his brow.
Ron didn’t bother answering as he began searching again. “HERMIONE! HERMIONE, CAN YOU HEAR ME!?”
“This has to be a test,” John insisted, though his voice cracked with nerves.
“HERMI-” Ron stopped yelling when his foot collided with something. He bent quickly and snatched up a small trunk. He cast a hasty Alohomora to unlock and open its latch to find it contained a variety of vials and jars…and Hermione’s wand. The blood drained from his face.
“She was out here collecting potion ingredients,” he said, setting it down hastily and spreading the grass with his hands to scan the ground.
“There’s another pack here,” John said, holding up a large, mud-splattered, grey saddle bag. “It’s got an ‘M’ on it.”
Ron looked perplexed at the unfamiliar bag and then went back to searching. “HERMIONE!”
“GRANGER!” John started as well, following Ron’s lead. “GRANG- aaah!”
“Whoa!” Ron exclaimed, thrusting out a hand to grab his partner’s shoulder as the man suddenly teetered forward, beginning to fall. John fell backwards instead at Ron’s action and landed in the grass on his backside.
“You alright?” Ron asked him, helping him back up. John nodded.
“Yeah…I…I think so,” he said, straightening his robes. “Thanks, mate. That would’ve been a nasty tumble. There’s a deep crevice just there.”
Ron looked uneasily at the man and then turned to inspect the opening. He squinted down into it and then pointed his wand downward.
“Lumos maxima!”
The deep fissure was at once illuminated with a bright light.
“Shit!” Ron cried out. “She’s there!”
“Who’s that with her?” John asked, peering down as well. Ron ignored him as he knelt down and shouted into the hole.
“Hermione! Hermione, we’re here! We’re gonna get you out!”
He stood then and jabbed his wand skyward. A stream of red sparks shot high into the air. Almost immediately the area was echoing with the cracks of the superior Auror officers Apparating in.
“Weasley! Marshall!” the head trainer shouted, coming hurriedly to their side. “What’s the emergency!?”
“Civilians down, sir!” Ron relayed straightaway, pointing to the opening in the ground. “We heard screaming. Did a quick search. Found them here. It’s Hermione Granger and an unknown individual.”
The man looked cautiously down into the crevice and then snapped his head up and began barking orders at the others. The Aurors, Ron and John included, all went to work at once to begin the delicate work of extricating the trapped couple.
“Here comes the male!” one of them yelled out five minutes later as Draco’s limp form was finally levitated up and out. “Keep him vertical!” someone ordered harshly.
“Bloody hell, that’s Draco Malfoy,” another noted as a Healer-Auror stepped up and began performing diagnostics on him.
“Is he dead?” John asked with a grimace at the grisly sight of Draco’s mangled left arm.
The Healer-Auror didn’t answer him and instead looked grimly to his superior. “I need to Port out,” he said. The head Auror nodded and the man pulled a biro Portkey from his pocket at once and clicked it open to activate it and swirled from sight with Draco in tow.
“We’ve got her too!”
“It is her,” someone murmured in disbelief. “It’s really Hermione Granger.”
“Hermione!” Ron cried out at the sight of his unconscious, mud, blood, and vomit covered friend floating over to another Healer-Auror. He shoved his way through the other stunned Aurors over to them. “Is…is she alright!?”
“No,” the Auror said sternly. She pulled a pen from her robe pocket as well and with another nod from the superior went to click it.
“Wait!” Ron shouted in a panic. He looked to the man in charge. “Permission to accompany her, sir. I’m listed as her next of kin.”
The head Auror regarded him a moment and then looked over at John. “Marshall!” he called out to him. “You go with Weasley. I expect a full report on this incident from both of you after their conditions are determined.”
“Yes, sir,” John said, hurrying over to Ron and the Auror that was still levitating Hermione upright.
“Thank you, sir,” Ron said, and the man nodded gravely as the small group disappeared with the click of the pen.
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Five Days