Hermione Reparo | By : Kit_Stella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 20416 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any characters from the books or films. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
And so the plot thickens...
Enjoy the new chapter and feel free to review :)
KS
Chapter 25: Nightmares and Realisations
He was in his parents’ manor walking down the corridor that led to the main living room when he heard voices. As he approached, he recognized his mother’s distinctive tone as well as…wait, was that Hermione?
“What have I done for you to hate me so?” he immediately recognized his girlfriend’s voice, soft and pleading.
“My dear child, I do not despise you because of your blood. As you might very well know there are Muggle-borns in my family, and I bear you no prejudice because of that, regardless of my family’s past. The reason I cannot find it in me to care for you is because you were the cause of my son’s death.”
That voice. That second voice was his mother’s.
Draco’s eyes went wide with shock. He felt his heart beat a mile a minute and had to brace himself against the wall for support. With the echoing of his own laboured breaths filling his ears he felt like he was losing his footing, almost as though he was slipping and spiralling down towards the unknown overcome with a feeling of doom.
What is going on here?! Hermione...m-my death?
Trying to keep it together and realizing he had missed a bit of the conversation, he approached the door and caught his mother’s last words delivered in a choked voice he dreaded to hear. “He went after Bellatrix to protect you, and she...the Dark Lord...they... Draco was murdered.”
Draco gasped as he bolted upright, drenched in his own sweat. He was out of breath, and it took him but a second to realize it had all been a dream.
A very realistic dream mind you, but just a dream.
He was so shaken he almost forgot where he was, but a quick sweep of the room along with the pain in his right wrist reminded him that he was in the hospital wing. He was thankful that he was alone, for he didn’t care to share his current state with anyone, let alone scare Hermione with it. He knew she would worry and he was unable to find any kind of answer to sooth her fears at this point – he didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on with this troubling feeling he sensed about this particular dream.
Don’t want to make her think I’m going loopy.
He covered his face in his hands, surprised to find his cheeks wet from the tears he didn’t know he had been shedding. Sitting upright with his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his temples – his heart still beating loudly in his ears – and tried to calm his breathing as best he could. He had heard about some exercises that were supposed to help in these sorts of situations, and concentrated on his breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
Breathe, dammit!
When his heart finally slowed down to a decent pace and he was no longer gasping like a fish out of water, he started trying to process what he heard in the dream.
What in Merlin’s beard was that? His mother had been talking to Hermione about his death? It all felt so oddly real, he didn’t know what to think. It was just a dream. The fact that it was as vivid as the one in the shower with Hermione gave him an odd sense of unease, but he tried to push that thought from his mind with all his might.
Thanks, you noseless twat. Draco blamed Voldermort for haunting him still. He’d had some bizarre nightmares in the past - clearly living through such dark times did a number on his mind - but he couldn’t recall it ever being something quite like this.
The Slytherin wondered how much longer he would have to endure the effects of living under the same roof as the insane maniac. Draco had seen and done so many things he regretted, and a part of him knew he deserved these nightmares. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel shaken to the bone. There was something off about the nightmare; everything felt so real and he couldn’t fight the intense anxiety that took hold of him.
That’s why they’re called nightmares, dumbass!
He smirked at himself, and after some more deep calming breaths tried to brush it off and concentrate on going back to sleep.
He would have a word with Madam Pomfrey in the morning, regarding the so-called ‘Dreamless’ part of her potion but thankfully it took him less time than he would have expected to drift off once again.
The next morning, Draco woke up to find Hermione seated at the foot of his bed with a huge tome open on her crossed legs. She looked up noticing he was awake.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” She crawled over and gave him a light peck on the lips.
He was still quite unsettled by his dream, and she immediately picked up on it. Concern was written all over her features when she asked him, “What’s the matter, does your wrist still hurt?”
She was practically already off to get the mediwitch when Draco grabbed her hand. He groaned, scratching the back of his head in a sluggish way. “The wrist is fine, no need to get Pomfrey. I just had a peculiar dream; it was very vivid. I don’t quite know what to make of it.”
“What kind of a dream?” Hermione set the book aside to better focus her attention on him.
Draco didn’t know how much he could actually tell her without alarming her. Deciding it wasn’t worth worrying her, and also afraid of the actual content of his dream, he decided to brush off the subject without going into too much detail.
“Nothing really. My mother was in it, but it was just…odd.” Always one to manipulate a conversation away from a sensitive subject, Draco feigned a grumble, “What on Earth are you reading?”
“Well Sleeping Beauty, I woke up early and thought I would check out a book.” She flashed him a cheeky smile enjoying his obliviousness to her fairy-tale reference and flipped over the tome showing him the title A History of Astronomy through the Eyes of the Seers.
“Astronomy? Really, Hermione?” Draco knew how little she enjoyed the subject and couldn’t fathom why she would be interested in reading such a thing. It was pretty much common knowledge that Hermione never gave Divination any genuine credit in the Hogwarts school programme.
“Bear with me for a second, I think you might find this interesting.” She flicked through the pages. “That time in the shower you knew where I was without anyone telling you. Then, there’s that dream. Then, you mentioned the Quidditch game. And last night, you saved my life before you could even realize what you were doing. You have to admit, it all adds up to being quite odd. So when I stumbled upon this I thought it was worth doing some research.”
“Alright.” Draco was still feeling a bit drowsy and admittedly couldn’t fathom where his favorite little bookworm was going with this.
Without further ado, the studious witch blurted out, “Draco, I think you might be a Seer.”
Utterly shocked by what had just come from Hermione’s mouth, his tone came out a little higher than usual,“Excuse me, what now?”
“I’m serious. There are tons of facts that point in that direction, and it would explain a lot. Here, look.” She handed him the heavy tome.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Draco looked at Hermione incredulously as she turned to the marked page.
“Just read it.”
It is not clear as to when the Seer develops his capability to prophesy. There have been reported cases of born seers as well as cases where the Sight was only developed in the final years before death. Often a traumatic experience is linked to the onset of visions for those who are not born experiencing them.
The Sight appears to be a heritable skill passed down, primarily through the maternal line. Reportedly, before having full consciousness and control of their power, Seers can unwittingly impart their gift on others, which typically manifests in the form of vivid dreams.
It is worth noting that, statistically speaking, these unique capabilities present more commonly in witches than wizards.
Draco paused to let it all sink in. That night’s dream was still at the forefront of his mind and became increasingly haunting with this new discovery.
Why does this make so much sense?
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind, his expression was schooled to not betray a single one. It was something he had become most skilled at whilst living with Death Eaters, and he had to admit to himself in moments like these that it was a damn useful skill. Had he not been able to so disguise his feelings, Hermione would have easily seen how completely...freaked out he was about this discovery. He recalled the number of times he had ridiculed his Divination teacher and the “art” of prophesying, and hoped against hope that this conclusion was impossible; but at the same time, it explained everything so perfectly.
Damn.
Draco chose his words cautiously, “That time in the showers?”
“That’s what it looks like.” Hermione’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“So, I’m a Seer?”
Hermione looked down at the book and back up at him, contemplating the evidence of the facts as well as what Draco had just read. “Are either of your parents one?”
“I don’t think so, but I will have to check with them. I wouldn’t be surprised, come to think of it. However, it’s not the kind of question I can just throw their way in a letter. This whole thing just feels so bizarre.” Draco set the book aside and rubbed his eyes. He was having a hard time accepting this, because in a way it did make absolute sense.
“Right,” Hermione started, and by the tone of her voice Draco knew that she had gone full on analytical mode. “Well, let’s look at the facts. Take your Quidditch related vision. If Harry catches the Snitch in less than an hour during the game on February the fourteenth then we’ll have proof.”
The Slytherin liked the idea so he accepted, albeit cautiously. “That does make sense.”
“Of course it makes sense; who do you take me for?” Hermione chuckled, closing the book with a snap.
Draco felt bad for not telling her more about his most recent dream but decided it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him anyway.
It couldn’t be a premonition, could it? They mentioned the Dark Lord so it had to be in the past…so I can’t be…dead? Clearly, it was just a fucked up dream and nothing more. Draco didn’t want to acknowledge how this information made so many things click into place. It just meant that more questions remained unanswered.
Before Hermione was able to press on regarding his thoughts about it he quickly swiped the worry away from his features. He had grown quite good at schooling his expression to hide what was lurking in his mind. It had become a necessity when a psychopath such as Voldemort himself lived under the same roof.
“Did I just hear Pomfrey leave?” Draco tried to surreptitiously change the subject.
Hermione stood up to check. “I think you’re right.”
“Are we alone now?” He cocked his eyebrow up seductively.
“You have got to be kidding, Draco! We’re in the Hospital Wing!” She scowled at him half-heartedly as a smile etched its way to her face.
“And I feel fucking fantastic. Why in Merlin’s beard did you get out of my reach?”
Hermione giggled as Draco tried to grab her. She inched out of the way at the last moment, teasing him.
“Catch me if you can.” She purred before bouncing towards the next bed.
“You’re in so much trouble when I do.” Draco growled, lunging toward her.
They ran across the room, and Draco tackled her down onto a bed behind a curtain. Hermione was giggling uncontrollably as Draco pinned her arms over her head and looked down on her.
For a moment though, she wasn’t thinking of their antics or the fact that she felt his rock solid length against her; on the forefront of her mind was the realization of how happy she felt with him. It was almost as if her problems melted away, only leaving room to enjoy the current moment to its fullest. It was a feeling she had only ever hoped for these past years. She smiled softly up at Draco, who’d loosened his grasp on her wrists letting her touch his face with her fingertips.
“I love you, Draco.” She said and smiled wholeheartedly up at him.
The smile that lit up his face at that moment was like none she had ever seen before. He gazed down at her in pure adoration, happiness filling his beautiful grey eyes. His features softened, and he closed his eyes in what seemed like a sense of relief.
He leaned into her, kissing her neck and making his way up to her lips. Before they could go much further they heard Pomfrey’s voice coming from the other end of the infirmary, “Now where in blazing Merlin’s pants is that boy?”
Hermione and Draco shared a look, and she hid her face in her hands. They got out from behind their curtain sheepishly and had to endure a ten minute long lesson on proper student conduct. “Really, Miss Granger, you’re Head Girl!”
Hermione was absolutely mortified by the time they left the Hospital Wing. The fact that Draco was laughing so hard he was practically crying was of no help whatsoever. He kept repeating his favourite bits and smacking his leg before a new bout of uncontrollable laughter took over. Hermione couldn’t remain upset seeing him like this. She realized she had probably never seen him laugh so hard.
“A-and the part about you being H-head Girl…” he continued, “I almost died when she said ‘Head’!” More laughing ensued.
“Drake!” Hermione punched his arm. She felt her face grow even redder than before.
“A lovely title to go with those exceptional skills of yours,” Draco snickered.
Hermione stopped walking and crossed her arms in front of her. “I think I’m going to take back what I said before, you know about loving you.”
Before she knew it, Draco was practically on his knees begging for forgiveness. The humor leaving him, he pleaded, “No, no, no, no, no please don’t Hermione. I’m being a dick. I love that you love me back. I might be experiencing a bit of euphoria, is all. Please, be mad, but don’t take it back.”
Hermione’s playful smile froze and slowly melted off her face, replaced by anxious confusion as she realized with horror that he was seriously afraid she might just stop loving him.
“Draco, I’m only joking.” She reassured him with a frown.
He got up and pulled her close to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms. Her breath hitched as she took in the reality of what had just happened. Returning his hug with equal fervor, she tried to wrap her head around just how damaged Draco had to be to even think that her reaction could be anything more than a bad joke.
Unfortunately, before Hermione was able to fully reassure her boyfriend a clock chimed in the background drawing their attention to the lateness of the hour.
“Merlin’s pants, is that really the time?” It couldn’t possibly be that time! “We’re going to be late!”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Draco mumbled under his breath. “Let’s meet here in ten minutes.”
With that, they both hurried off in opposite directions, mentally preparing themselves for what was to come: Lunch with the Malfoys.
Review?
KS
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