Verto Vitae | By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 40710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter nor do I make any money or intend any copyright infringement by using the characters therein. |
Hermione slept through breakfast and straight into lunchtime until Mrs. Weasley stirred her softly, urging her to eat. She did so mechanically, hardly tasting what she was sure was a delicious bacon sandwich. Draco had left at some point while she'd slept and she felt an ache of loneliness.
Picking at the meager remainder of her meal, Hermione began dissecting the events of the night previous. She tried to recall the Latin verbiage used for the incantation, wondering what she'd been forced to say, what she'd pledged herself to. She felt the dull throb on her arm but pointedly refused to look at it. She knew she should see it as a source of pride, the knowledge that there was nothing she wouldn't do for this war. But right now, the thought of it simply made her ill and terrifying memories lingered at the edges of her mind, waiting to break free and overcome her. She stubbornly willed them back, knowing it would do no good to dwell. What was done was done, they could only move forward from here.
She was just about to lay back down when her door opened and Draco strode in, making Hermione's brow furrow.
"I thought you went back to school?"
"Potter and Weasley went to Hagrid's so I thought I'd swing by, see how you were doing..."
"Oh." Eager to steer him away from a conversation about her mental well-being, she thought of something, mentally slapping herself for forgetting. "You know, I never did wish you a happy birthday yesterday."
He shrugged, looking away sheepishly. "Doesn't matter."
"Of course it does!" she cried, latching onto that small glimmer of normality. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything yesterday, I've been so selfish lately - thinking about the mission and all, it just slipped my mind. I got you something a while back, it's in my bag, hang on-"
"You shouldn't have gotten me anything," he muttered, sounding embarrassed.
"Don't be silly," she chided half-mindedly as she searched through the bag someone had placed at the foot of her bed before she'd arrived. Finding the neatly wrapped package she'd brought with her from their world, she handed it to Draco who was now sitting on her bed. "Go on, open it."
After a slight hesitation he slit open the gold wrapping on one side and pulled out the handsome ebony box. Hermione sat beside him and gestured to the dragon clasp.
"You see, your name means 'dragon' and this made me think of you," she told him softly as he drew his fingers over the intricate lock. "It will only open to your touch. Go on."
Glancing at her, he pressed the lock with the pad of his thumb and it released it with a soft click. Lifting the lid, he picked up the small box inside, quirking an eyebrow at her. Opening this box as well, he pulled out a black stone attached to a leather cord.
"It's a Seeking Stone," Hermione explained as he turned the polished pendant in his hand. "When you're lost or trying to find something you can use this. It will help you find what you're looking for. But you can only use it once, so make sure you use it wisely."
"Hermione…these are really rare," he said, turning to her. She blushed shyly, not mentioning she'd all but cleaned her inheritance vaults to pay for it.
"I wanted it to be a token, something meaningful," she explained, not able to meet his eye. "You've been trying to find yourself for so long and after everything you've been through, you've finally found who you wanted to be. You didn't have to come to us and join our side, but you realized that it was what you wanted in the end. I hoped this would be a reminder that...that you're not lost anymore."
She saw something pass in his gaze and there was a tense moment of silence before he lifted his hand to her cheek.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely, his eyes bright. Hermione cleared her throat to dispel the intense moment.
"Turn around, I'll put it on you," she urged. He handed her the necklace and turned away from her so she could drape it around his neck. She tied it into place and remembered how Narcissa had done the same to her just last night. Her trembling hands dropped the knot she'd made and she backed away from Draco, fists clenching to still the nervous tremor.
"There's one more thing I want to give you."
"Hermione, this is more than enough," he protested, turning to her. She shook her head.
"It's not a present or anything, but I think you should have it." Grabbing her wand from the bedside table, she shoved open the window looking out over the muddy hill she'd scrambled down last night. Had it only been last night? It felt like an eternity…
"Accio pendant!"
She watched the necklace zoom to her through the midday drizzle and caught it with her left hand. It was spotless - as if it had spent the night in its case rather than the muddy fields. Holding back the memory of its reception, Hermione held it out to Draco and he stood, taking it, his jaw hardening in recognition.
"This was my mother's," he murmured quietly, fingering the intricate whorls. "She was keeping it for my wife. It's heavily enchanted, it can only be worn by a Malfoy. It will curse anyone else who tries to put it on. Looks as though our potion worked well, didn't it?"
Hermione didn't know what to say so she stood quietly and watched the emotions play across his face. It was so rare to see any kind of feeling pass across his heavily guarded countenance that she soaked in the moment, not knowing how to feel. It was obvious the necklace meant a lot to him.
Draco stared at the pendant for a few moments longer before placing it in the case she had given him and closing the lid with a snap.
"I came to see how you were doing," he said, clearly wishing to change the subject.
"I'm fine."
"Liar."
She didn't argue. "I'll be fine."
She could see a haunted dread in his eyes and ached to soothe him as he had her the night before. When she saw him glance at the box where she knew the pendant lie, she realized the source of his anxiety and reprimanded herself for not reassuring him sooner.
"Your mother is safe. They didn't make me kill her."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "But…I thought…to get the Mark you had to-"
"I think, considering the other plans for Valouris, they let this one slide. Apparently your parents' sacrifice on this side was enough to absolve them."
She could see the relief wash over him before his expression changed, darkened. He crossed the short distance between them and cupped her cheek, caressing the evidence of her exhaustion beneath her eyes softly, seeming to understand the price she paid.
"I don't know what I would do with myself if anything had happened to you last night," he murmured, his voice gruff, as if the words caused him pain to utter. "Every moment you were gone was complete agony. I don't know how I'm ever supposed to let you go through something like that again. How do you expect me to just stand aside again after the horror I saw in your eyes last night? How am I supposed to live with myself knowing what you're going through while I sit on the sidelines, safe and sound?"
"Because it's what we have to do, Draco," she cajoled in an attempt to soothe him. "I made it through last night. I'll make it through every night after. I won't stop until he's gone."
Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed. "I don't know how you do it."
She looked into his eyes, searching for a sign, for any hint that he felt the same.
"Don't you?" she breathed.
She watched the words transform his face, as if he were imploring what she implied to be true. Her heart skipped a beat and she suddenly felt very hot. Was it possible that he felt the same?
"Hermione-"
"Argh!" she cried out suddenly, her arm seeming to have caught fire, her blood suddenly like lava in her veins. Grasping the inflamed Mark she yanked away from him, turning so that he wouldn't see her face screw up in pain, not only from the burning Mark, but from disappointment. How could he ever love her when this would always be between them? Something that would forever remind him of the life he tried so hard to escape? One that was destined to tear them apart? How could he ever feel anything but revulsion when he looked upon her? She was one of them now. Nothing she did could erase that. How could she possibly ask him to see passed it?
She heard him move behind her and stiffened as he approached. His arms came around her and she longed to sink into them but kept her resolve. This was a mistake. She was being selfish. Of course he didn't love her. It was probably pure torture for him not to recoil at her touch. He was simply doing his duty, just as she was. She was here to get the Mark, he was here to protect and comfort her. Nothing more, nothing less.
Hermione jumped when Draco took her left arm and pulled it out of her steely grip, drawing the sleeve of her gown up. She could feel the tension in his body as he drew the pad of his thumb over the blazing line of her Mark. "It doesn't mean anything, Hermione. We know who you are. They can't touch you where it really matters."
She swallowed, wishing she could believe the words. She knew he was only trying to be kind. "I know."
They were quiet for a moment before she gathered herself enough to step out of his embrace. "You should get back to school, someone will notice you're missing."
Hermione was suddenly curious about whether others had taken note of her absence, whether Blaise had told everyone about Valouris' treachery, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. She was desperate for solitude and thankfully Draco seemed to realize this and took his leave without another word.
The rest of the day was a grueling test of Hermione's tenacity. Mrs. Weasley urged her to join them downstairs for dinner so she plastered a smile on her face and tried to appear pleasant but she could tell everyone knew it was simply an act. Order members bustled in and out, asking her questions, praising her escape. Draco did not return, so she was alone in a sea of well-meaning faces. By the time dessert rolled around she was exhausted from her charade and begged herself off, dashing back up the stairs at Mrs. Weasley's reluctant nod.
She found the peace of her dark room and slipped back into bed. When the door opened she feigned sleep. She could feel eyes upon her but refused to meet them. She knew whoever was on the other side knew she was awake but they said nothing and finally took their leave.
She listened to the others talk downstairs for a long time before exhaustion overtook her and she sank into a fitful slumber.
.
.
.
Move.
Fear, urgency, desperation. Scrambling, running, cold floor, rough wood against hands. Go, faster, quickly before-
"Hermione, what the-?"
No, can't be caught, move, steps flying up, stomach churning.
"Hermione!"
Can't stop, faster, cold wind, pounding rain, mud between toes. Move, quickly, go-
"Hermione, stop! STOP!"
NO! Don't stop, must get away, get back to Him, must go, quickly-
"Hermione, stop! Listen to me-"
Rough fingers tight against forearm. Fight, have to fight, have to go, can't be stopped.
Pain lancing through fists, hitting something hard. Grip loosened, move, now-
Almost there, don't stop, can't stop-
Breath rushing out, every bone jarring, mud soaking. Fight, get away, nails, hands, feet, GO-
Smack!
Disoriented... Shake it off...shake what off?
Go, have to go...but why...?
Smack!
Face stinging, Hermione gasped, blinking into the torrent from above, panting and confused. She felt a vague sense of urgency, as if she were late for class, but for the life of her couldn't remember what she was doing.
"Where am I?" she asked absentmindedly, glancing around her, realizing belatedly that she was lying on her back with Draco on top of her in the Weasley's garden, soaking wet and shaking.
And then her blood ran cold as she looked up at Draco whose lip was bleeding, mud spattered all up his front with long scratches down his neck.
"Draco…I - what-"
Terror swam through her as she racked her brain for some memory of how she had ended up here. She looked toward the property lines, not a meter from her, and back up at Draco who was staring down at her as if she were mad.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" he roared, the rain dripping off his nose and making the blood on his chin run.
"How did I-? I don't-" Hermione stuttered, bewildered. "I don't - I didn't mean to - I don't know how-"
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he screamed, anger radiating from every inch of toned muscle.
"I don't know! I don't know what happened! What happened?" she begged, terrified and confused. She didn't understand…how did she get here? Why was he so angry?
Her Mark blazed hotter and she twisted her searing wrist out of his steely grip to pull back the sleeve of her now mud-drenched gown. The Mark burned black, standing out in horrible contrast to her white skin. The Mark…it had hurt…she remembered feeling…anxious. She was late…she had to get to Him…to Voldemort. Her eyes caught Draco's as she took in this terrifying realization. "Draco-"
"Wotcher! What's going on over there?" Tonks called, jogging across the lawn, rain bouncing off an Impervious Charm around her as she made her way towards them. Hermione jerked as if she'd been hit with a Stinging Jinx and Draco continued to look at her as if she'd been possessed.
"What the hell is going on?" Draco asked, his voice low, hard. Hermione shook her head, clutching the source of the fire burning through her.
"I don't…I mean, I didn't mean to…H-He was calling me, I didn't realize-"
"Who?"
She swallowed. "Voldemort."
"He spoke to you?" Draco snapped incredulously, gripping her shoulder as if afraid she might run off again.
"No, not like a voice, just a feeling. I had to go to Him; He was calling for me…" Draco continued to look at her as if she were going 'round the bend and his grip on her tightened.
"Can you hear him now?" She shook her head, swallowing hard. The anger in his features, the fear in his voice, unnerved her more than the realization that she was lying on her back in the mud with no recollection of even leaving her bed.
"Let's get you back inside," he grunted, dragging her to her feet and yanking her forward until she was almost jogging, her bare feet sinking into mud at every step.
"What's going on?" Tonks asked again, catching up to them, her wand aloft, eying Draco's injuries. "Are you two alright?"
"Wake everyone up," Draco snapped, shouldering her aside to heave Hermione into the kitchen. "We need to talk."
He shoved her down into a chair and grabbed her chin roughly, staring into her eyes for a long moment before letting her face go, apparently satisfied. Hermione knew what he was looking for: traces of Voldemort. He wanted to know if she was possessed by him. Terror filled her at the possibility, her hand instantly going to her wrist where he'd drank her blood.
Tonks stared at them incredulously before sprinting upstairs, calling out for an emergency meeting. Hermione wondered just how many Order members had been stationed there since her arrival and why Draco, who should be asleep at Hogwarts, was hovering over her like a bodyguard.
Hermione looked up at him and took in his bloody lip, the scratches and bite marks, the blooming bruises…
"Did I-?"
His lack of answer was confirmation enough.
They only had to wait a minute before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were tearing into the room behind George and Hestia Jones.
"What on earth is going on?" Mrs. Weasley asked the room at large, then took in the wet and muddy appearance of Hermione and Draco and gasped. "Oh, my dears! Are you alright? What happened?"
It took several minutes to get everyone calmed enough to sit, more Order members bustling in with Tonks. Someone had draped an afghan around Hermione's shivering shoulders as she sat numbly, sickened at the thought of what might have happened if Draco hadn't gotten to her in time…then again, how had he?
Draco began, cutting off her thoughts. He told them all how he'd stationed himself next to her bed as a precaution and accidentally fallen asleep. He'd woken up to her jumping out of bed and explained that she didn't even seem to hear him, how he'd had to follow her out of the house and tackle her to the ground to prevent her from crossing the barriers.
"She was hysterical, going on about how she had to 'get to him' and fighting me. When I slapped her out of it she didn't even seem to remember how she'd gotten there."
"Get to whom?" Mr. Weasley asked, though the paleness of his face was evidence that he already knew.
"Voldemort," Hermione whispered again, watching the group flinch at his name. "He was calling me."
"Wait, he's talking to you now?" George asked incredulously, mimicking Draco's reaction.
"It's not talking," Hermione replied. "More like…a feeling. I just…had to get to Him…"
"And you don't remember how you got outside?" Tonks asked. Hermione shook her head. "When You-Know-Who possessed Ginny she couldn't remember anything she'd done, either. Do you think-?"
"I think it's certainly a possibility he could possess her in some way," Mr. Weasley finished.
"But how?" Bill asked from where he stood next to the kitchen door. "With Ginny, she was tapping into his Horcrux, wasn't she? And with Harry, well, scar and all. Would her Mark make the same connection?"
"It's not the same as possession," Draco said, his knuckles white on the back of her chair. "He can't work through her, the Mark doesn't Imperius you. But to get the Mark you make an oath to do the Dark Lord's bidding. Part of that is going to him when he calls. You can refuse to, you can throw him off. But it's not without consequence. She'll suffer every time she doesn't do exactly as he commands."
"It's not the Mark."
Everyone looked over at her quiet declaration. She looked up at the concerned crowd and took a deep breath.
"The spell, the one he did - started - for the Arcavi," she explained, pulling back her nightgown to reveal the thin white scar from Bellatrix's hand. "He...he drank my blood, sucked it...whatever they were doing worked. We're connected in whatever way was necessary for the reception of the Arcavi."
Draco swore behind her and the rest of the Order looked stricken.
"But...he, he wasn't able to finish...?"
Hermione shook her head to George's question, looking down at her hands in shame. "No, he didn't finish the spell."
"Which, for all intents and purposes, could actually be worse," Bill said, dragging his hand through his long hair.
"What do you mean?" Draco growled. Bill looked up at him with a curious expression.
"All spells want to be finished, curses especially. Have you ever been cut off halfway through a charm and felt that jolt when you didn't finish? This is the same thing, only much more intense with the increased power. This curse to deposit the Arcavi must have been extremely powerful, using blood, potion, spell, and virgin magicks. The combination alone is extraordinary - add in his Dark aura and we're looking at a magic to rival that or the creation of a Horcrux. Something like that isn't meant to go unfinished - their connection needs to be completed."
"And how do you know this?" Draco snapped angrily, but Bill looked up at him patiently.
"I'm a curse-breaker, I've been studying this kind of thing for years, but never have I seen anything to the likes of which Miss Malfoy encountered."
"Granger, " Draco snarled. "Her name is Hermione Granger."
Bill raised his hands apologetically, thankfully able to keep his cool much easier than Draco who was panting in rage. "My apologies. I do believe, however, that we may see increased degrees of desperation from You-Know-Who the longer the connection is not fulfilled. Hermione, as well, will suffer from the bonds of the spell until it's completed. It's likely he will continue to attempt to summon her. He'll wait until she is the most weak and vulnerable-"
"He'll attack while she's asleep..." Hestia surmised, wide-eyed.
Bill nodded. "Exactly-"
"So what, is she never allowed to sleep?" George asked, looking over at her concernedly.
"I don't think we need to be that drastic," Mr. Weasley said.
"Should we have Alastor teach her Occlumency?" Mrs. Weasley asked anxiously.
"I already know Occlumency," Hermione spoke up, irritated that they kept talking like she wasn't in the room.
"Even so, what if it isn't good enough?" George asked. "What if he gets through-"
"We'll need someone stationed at her door," Draco demanded. "Every night-"
"Yes, I quite agree," Mrs. Weasley nodded.
"We'll set up patrols," Mr. Weasley agreed. "Tonks, if you could speak with Kingsley-"
"No."
Every eye in the room turned to her and Hermione wrapped the hand-sewn afghan tighter around herself defensively. "I'm not going to have a guard at my bedroom door every night."
"It's only until Friday," Mr. Weasley placated.
"And then after that?" she snapped. "I will still have this!" She waved her scar in the air. "It's not just going to just go away when I take that potion!"
"Hermione, it won't be for long," Draco muttered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "When we get done what we need to do-"
"No. I'm not doing this, I can't," she protested, shaking her head. "It's too much. I'm not doing this to you guys. I'm supposed to be here to help, not to cause more stress-"
"So what are you going to do?" Draco snarled down at her. "Hide out in the mountains? Chain yourself to a tree and hope you don't break loose when he decides to summon you?"
"Anything is better than putting the ones I love in danger, Draco!" she screamed, leaping to her feet and rounding on him, her words ringing around the kitchen and falling upon her ears, the realization of what she'd just said dawning upon her. His eyes flashed, his fury radiating off him in waves.
"And what of the one I love?" he asked lowly, his voice deadly, his fists clenching and un-clenching at his side. "Does that mean nothing to you?"
At a loss for words, Hermione just stared at him, every inch intimidating, hard. She felt the breath leave her lungs at his implication, her mouth going bone-dry, any answer she might have had dying on her lips. She had completely forgotten about the other people in the room until Draco spoke, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Get that lookout at her door," he snapped, grabbing her elbow and dragging her out of the kitchen. No one said a word as he tugged her up the stairs and into her room where she stood still as a statue, her gown plastered to her with rain and drying mud, her hair clumped against her head, her entire body trembling from cold and nerves. When the lamps flamed to life her heart stopped at the dangerous look on Draco's face. His split lip was swollen, his left eye beginning to swell, scratches down his neck, across his chest, mud spattered all up him, caking his pants. His hands were in fists, every muscle rigid. For a long time they just stared at each other, the tension in the room palpable.
"Please say something," Hermione breathed when she couldn't stand the silence any longer. His jaw twitched.
"I think we've both said more than enough," he muttered. His tone made Hermione's blood run cold.
"Draco-"
"Do your Occlumency every night. Do not leave this house under any circumstance."
"Draco-"
"Do you understand me?" he yelled, his fury mounting. Fear quivered in her belly, not of him, but of her inability to repair the damage she'd inadvertently wreaked. She swallowed dryly before she was able to speak.
"Yes, yes of course." She waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything…
He gave no acknowledgment that he'd heard her, his cold eyes glaring menacingly down at her. She breathed in once, twice, three times, and then held it when he turned and smashed his fist into the wall, making her jump. Then, without another word, he ripped open the door and stormed out, slamming it so hard the hinges rattled and dust rained from the ceiling. She wanted to call out to him, but his retreating footsteps were all the answer she needed. He wanted nothing to do with her.
Hermione felt as though her heart was falling through the floorboards, the ache of the loss like a vise on her chest making it hard to breathe.
After a long while her exhausted body sought her bed and she lay awake until the rain stopped and the morning birds began their song. She could feel the cold permeate her senses from his deadening words.
She didn't rise when the noises outside her door signaled the waking of the others, nor did she answer when someone knocked. She watched the grey of the day slip into night, un-moving and uncaring. She kept her eyes wide, willing herself awake, terrified of being summoned back to her master's side, Draco's words ringing through her numb mind on repeat.
.
.
.
A/N: I know, I'm the worst making you guys wait so long! I'm trying, I promise! Wonder if some of you are going to catch Hermione's slight change in thought... ;)
XOXO
RynStar15
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