Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 43
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Chapter 44

I didn't scream; that was the most important thing. Grunted and moaned but never screamed. Never begged or even called for mercy. I think that's what made it last so long. My unwavering pride, keeping my teeth gritted through every blow.

When the whole ordeal begin, I had been certain that I was a strong confident woman but after taking just one too many kicks to the midsection and watching my tormenters stroll away without so much as an insult thrown over the shoulder. I began to feel like a quivering mass of blood and flesh.

It's hard to pinpoint any specific section of pain because everything hurts in one way or another. I don't know how long it is that I just lie there, shaking violently and barely breathing; my tongue feeling entirely too large to be contained in my mouth, making it difficult to swallow the blood flowing from my gums and the inside of my cheeks.

I know I need to stand and walk away but I only manage a shift of my foot before pain explodes everywhere at once; teeth gritting against it and forcing me to take breaths through my nostrils, a groan catching somewhere in my throat with each exhale only to be released a moment later with a burst of air drawing attention to the burning in my lungs and the stinging pain along my ribs.

It takes a moment for my muscles to settle enough for me to be confident in moving them again but my left arm is completely unresponsive, so I lack the manoeuvrability to push myself onto my feet. I have to settle with pushing myself onto my back then I have to wait all over again as the burning all along my skin thunders over ever inch.

Bending my knees for balance and pressing my weight down onto one shuddering arm I am able to push myself into a semi-seated position. Then drive yet more weight on the overtaxed limb to lift part of my lower body from the floor and upon finding a gap in the stone, put weight on my heels to extend my knees, sliding maybe half a foot along the floor towards the wall. My progress so agonisingly slow that by the time my back touches the smooth rock I'm about ready to just succumb to the darkness that is threatening to invade my vision. When situated and after I have wiped the mixture of fresh blood and sweat from my forehead I reach down to grip at my useless wrist and pull the limb across my lap. Under some strange notion that this action might protect it from any further damage but at this point I'm not exactly certain that much more can be done. Not with it burning from the curve of my shoulder all the way down to my fingertips.

I bend one of my knees until my foot is planted flat against the ground, with the full intention of using the leverage, along with the wall at my back to push myself onto my feet, but I make the mistake of pressing the side of my face to the cool stone and the relief I feel stomps down on that concept; too weary to even contemplate standing, just trying to cool that side of my face against the ageing rock. That's when I promise myself it'll only be for a moment, just a few seconds no more than that. Let my body rest for a full minuet.

Eyelids as heavy as lead close over my pupils, I'm certain I've only blinked. Just lose my vision for a fraction of a second but when they are once more able to drag themselves open, cracking the seal of dried blood and sweat, the walls has heated to the same temperature as my skin and there are footsteps so close that it is impossible that I wouldn't have been able to hear them until now.

Another drop of my heavy eyelids and I am almost certain I had lost consciousness if only for a moment because the echoed footfalls triple in volume and speed, seconds before I feel warm fingers touching my cheek. The gentle whisper of "Good God" breathed so close to my skin I can feel the air pass across my face, but the words themselves so distant and surrounded by fog they might well have been swallowed up by the wind. "Sweetheart look at me." Fingers grace the underside of my chin and even if I had the strength to fight there isn't any way I could have struggled against Hermione's gentle command. I watch as she bites on her lips suppressing a reaction.

"Hermione?" To my ears that single word sounds like a question, feeling like my tongue isn't entirely sure what my eyes are persevering.

"Yes, it's me." Her gaze is trying to probe so deeply into me, looking through the windows into my very soul but I find myself utterly unable to focus on her, trying to look right through her with no idea what it is I'm looking for. "Look at me." She says again snapping my gaze back into focus. She then shuffles down into her knees, resting down on her hunches, close to my extended leg. Reaching over with both hands in order to hold my head on either side; running her touch first over my crown then gently over my ears. "Can you tell me what day it is?" Her hands leave my skin and I see her sights set on her fingers for a moment before they began to run down the column of my neck.

"Urm." My eyelids close and I find myself having to blink, my left eye squinting more than my right. Opening my mouth to answer what must be a very simple question but I don't have an answer for her. "It's err… it's Friday." I don't know how but my tongue knew my answer long before my brain had been able to catch up with it and even though it should be easy I still find my questioning gaze on her, seeking validation.

She manages a tight-lipped smile, not looking at all happy but still wishing to show me that she is. "Very good." She comments, her fingers now resting along my shoulder and she can't suppress a frown; her gaze running along my immobile arm, inactive across my lap. "Can you make a fist for me?" is her next request.

Slowly I shake my head, then immediately wish that I hadn't, having to close my eyes and bite my lip against the all-consuming feeling of nausea deep in the pit of my belly. "I can't move it." I admit while feeling my stomach muscles clench.

Now her palm closes over the joint at the top of the offending limb and I press my eyes tightly closed to keep myself from crying out at the burning pain that settles over it, a whimper tumbling up from my chest catches in the back of my throat, still audible but I don't care. She can see my pain but what of it, why is it so important to conceal it?

All at once something occurs to me, something so blindingly obvious that it is inconceivable that I had managed to miss it to begin with. "What time is it?" Surly she should still be out in the grounds, or even at the fringes of the forbidden forest taking her tuition in magical creatures.

I feel her hand twist against me but never leave my skin. "Quarter past five."

"That doesn't make any sense." I say having to swallow down bile while asking myself if that slur in my voice is really there or just a product of my currently fogged senses. I hardly notice as she takes my useless arm in her grasp and gently lifts it, placing the palm of my hand against her shoulder, holding it there at my wrist. "How can it be after five?"

"I know." She says, appearing not to take any notice what it is I am saying but still keeping her voice calm and trying to assure me with every syllable. However what it is exactly she is trying to assure me of is a complete mystery to me. "Jamie." She calls, touching her palm once more to my cheek to direct my eyes to lock with hers. "I am going to do something and it is going to hurt."

"I already hurt." I hear myself complain, taking on the verbal skills of a child half my age.

"I know." The stroking of her thumb under my eye is added to the pleasant sensation of her touch and she bites hard onto her lips, drawing them into a thin line. "I know, but I have to." She closes her hand into a very lose fist, running the backs of her knuckles against my cheekbone, still having to maintain the contact to be able to grasp my wavering attention. "Do you trust me?"

For the first time in what feels like years she asks a question that I do not have to sort thought all of my jumbled thoughts in which to answer. "With my life." However the words that I use aren't something that I would have normally chosen.

"It has to be more than that." She replies. "Trust that I'll keep you safe, that I'll get you through this. Okay?"

Remembering my churning stomach I nod slowly. "Okay."

"Good. Now remember, this is going to hurt." For a moment I wonder why she is repeating herself, then I realise that I had failed to remember that piece of information before she had so kindly reminded me. "Are you ready?"

No, I'm not ready to feel any more pain. With my mind a disorderly mess and my body shaking from head to toe for some unknown reason, I am not in any sense of the word prepared to endure anything further. Without my consent my head nods to the affirmative and with a single jolted movement she moves her upper body towards me, pushing sharply on the hand that rests on her collarbone. A sickening pop echoes in my ear less than a heartbeat before I feel the pain radiate from my shoulder, my head tilts back, my jaw dropping open and I scream.

Without thought or care of my fragile body I flinch, pressing deeper into a wall at my back and curling both arms over my head. Within a moment she is pulling at the limbs, tugging them away and wrapping her arms around my crown to tuck my head under her chin, as she gently runs her fingers in a soothing motion through my hair. Whispering over and over again that it's okay, that it's over now but that doesn't stop the burning all along my arm that is provoking pitiful whimpers with every exhale.

Her hands close over my ears after many moments, her thumbs reaching out to brush away tears that I hadn't even been aware of and slowly she smiles. The look in her eyes a direct contrast to the expression on her face. It's only when I reach out to run my fingers over those lips that are silently lying to me that I realise I have use of my left hand again and quickly I am distracted by it. Opening and closeting my fist, like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, I must clench the muscles and release them a full three times before I comprehend exactly what I'm doing. Pressing the heel of my hand deep into the bridge of my nose to try to chase away the fog and the confusion that I can feel working its way between my ears, "What's the matter with me?"

Just as I am about to push the nails of that hand deep into my skin she is pulling it away before it can do any further damage. "It's nothing to worry about. I'll look after you."

"I know." I'm not even thinking about my words, my thoughts scattered about to such a degree that I can't think, can't concentrate on one single emotion or deliberation. My fingers now rest on her cheek lightly dragging at the skin and marvelling at her warmth. "Hermione."

"Yes?" She says, slowly still trying to keep the focus of my gaze when it is so intent to stare at the upward curve of her lips that I know to be a direct contrast to her thoughts.

"I love you." I don't know why I say that, my whole face creasing into deep confusion. I don't think I've ever said those words to her. Not since I first admitted my deep-seated feelings all those months ago and even then I most defiantly didn't say it in those words, I talked myself in circles until she understood exactly what it was I was trying to convey. However right in this moment it was the most important thing I could have said, I needed her to know even though I have already told her, she already knows. So why in the name of all the gods is it so important?

She doesn't comment, letting a snort of laughter pass between her nostrils that could almost be seen as genuine, then leans forwards to press her lips against my temple. Resting her cheek against my skin and returns the sentiment. "I love you too." For several moments she lets me just soak in the comfort she can give me, lets me cling to her woollen jumper and try to bleed some warmth into my shivering muscles. This is something that she notices and slowly lets her hands rub against my upper arms, trying to generate friction without aggravating my injuries. "Do you think you can stand?" She asks quietly still close to my ear.

I don't want to, now with my head spinning and my stomach churning in the way it is, but the floor is hard against my rump; the thought of a warm bed the biggest motivator in my answer. "Maybe."

"There's no maybe about it." With far more speed than I appreciate she has pulled her warm embrace away from my body and straightened to her full height, brushing off the dust that has clung to the knees of her jeans before reaching down to help me to my feet. "Come on."

Her fingers close in a tight grip around my forearm, the same cannot be said for my own grasp of her arm but with her aid and my other arm pushed out at an awkward position against the wall slowly I am able to stand. Having to close my eyes the very moment my knees straighten and lean back against the supporting stone as a wave of dizziness thunders through my head.

Within a second she is able to support me, with a gentle hand against my injured shoulder and a tight grip of my school shirt under my other arm; patently waiting for me to be in a fit state to begin any sort of movement. When I finally am able to take a big enough breath and swallow down my evening meal enough to open my eyes I can still see the fog at the very edges of my vision but at the very least it does not twist and turn as I had anticipated.

Her concerned eyes only meet mine for a second before she is pulling my right arm across her shoulders, trying to make it appear as if we are merely sharing a casual embrace, not that she is somehow managing to bear most of my superior weight as she leads me down the corridor. The blood that I can feel dried and caked to the side of my face not doing anything to aid the illusion but I am almost certain that it is for my benefit. "Shouldn't you be in lesson?" I find myself suddenly asking, only vaguely noticing that we are travelling in the opposite direction to my chamber. "What time is it?"

"A little after five." She answers in a strained voice after a short pause.

"I already knew that." I say, having to grunt against a particularly painful twitch in my thigh. "Didn't I?"

She chooses not to speak but the heavy silence says more than any words she could have uttered. Something is most defiantly wrong with me and not just my most basic functions, hindered by injury but something on a higher level. The cloudy vale over my eyes and the mist invading my ears enough for me to figure out that much, whatever it is Hermione appears to understand. Along with everything else my body seems to be going through. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to clean you up, then put you to bed." She answers slowly, tightening her grip around my waist as I misjudge a crack in the stone flooring and very nearly drive headfirst back into the rock.

After a few stumbling paces we turn a corner and I instantly realise why we had been heading in this direction. The windows along this passage face due west and the bright afternoon sun can be seen spilling through the high panes of glass. I can barely wait to be bathed in that wondrous, warm light and even though I know I am by no means coordinated enough to quicken my stride I have enough weight pressed down against my ankles to do just that but the whispered curse of "bugger," at my side halts the action.

"Well, looks like you're still standing." Nancy says, pulling her lower lip between her teeth and I'm not certain if she is disappointed or relived by that fact. "That's something I suppose." She then turns her head and pulls her eyes downwards towards Hermione, a frown gracing her features. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" I can feel her shaking but I can't tell if the vibration emits from her, or me as even after such a short arduous exertion I still feel a chill setting deep into my bones. "Where exactly were you?"

"Hey," She holds her hand out in a pacifying gesture, even going as far as to take a step back. "I'm her keeper, not her bodyguard and to be quite frank, I shouldn't have to deal with this crap." She stands at the very point where the blinding light meets the shadows, having to squint a single eye against the brightness, where all I am able to do is feel the reflected warmth from the stone. Comforting yes but does not afford me the healing capabilities that we had been aiming for.

What's more I cannot step into that light, not now. I know it has taken a few moments for my mind to catch up but now I realise that if Nancy sees what I am capable of, what Ammy has been able to instil in me that will give her knowledge that will in no way be to my advantage.

Nancy haves an irritated sigh, her eyes running over me in a deeply apprising way and to the hold I have against Hermione and throws me an exasperated look before fixing her eyes to my partner. "So, hospital wing?"

"No." I feel my mouth open without my consent and answer far too quickly, which earns me a questioning look from the Slytherin girl. "I mean…" Just like that my mind goes completely blank, a lifetime habit of having a dozen mistruths ready and waiting to be chosen at the tip of my tongue all but deserting me in the blink of an eye, leaving me with nothing.

"Yes, she's being quite stubborn about that." Hermione jumps to my rescue, acting just as annoyed with my decision to stay away from the resident mediwitch.

"Yeah well," Nancy says, stepping out of that giving sunlight and coming to stand at my side. "She was always a pig headed, idiot." When I try to pull my face into a show of exasperation I can feel the swelling beginning to form around my left eye, which I am sure spoils the effect of the whole thing. All I get in return is a highly raise eyebrows and another sigh of contempt. "It's not as if I'm wrong." She says with a gesture over her shoulder and takes the lead back along the pathway. "You've already walked past the bathroom."

She doesn't offer her aid to Hermione, I'm not certain if that is because of her trying to show that we mealy walk together casually holding each other looks genuine enough for her to needn't bother or is she is truly terrified of the disease that she believes resides in my blood. Much of which is caked to the side of my face but I'm still grateful for it because Hermione might just accept the help from her, if it had been offered and I really don't think that I would be able to allow that. Even in this fuzzy frame of mind. Nancy is however kind enough to hold open the bathroom door to allow us entrance and makes no move to remove Hermione's presence. While at the same time Hermione tries to all but ignore Nancy in her entity.

Slowly she leads me over to a basin and encourages me to lean heavily against it, reaching skywards towards my temple, which so far has been her most focused area of concern. "You've banged your head up pretty bad." She comments, trying and failing to keep the concern from both her voice and her eyes.

"Yeah," I concede, closing my eyes tight and reaching up to attempt to rub away the resounding ache between my ears. "Feels like it might explode."

Before I can reach for my skin her fingers close around mine and draw them further into the torch light for a closer examination. My fingers do appear to be in the correct order and place but I've broken the skin enough to coat them in my own blood. "What happened there?" She asks, reaching over with one hand and running the towel under the warm tap, taking a moment to push the plug deep into the drain.

"Goyle's jaw is solid as a rock." I hear Nancy snorting at my comment somewhere at the other side of the room but pay her as little attention I am able.

Hermione places my fingers around the edge of the sink and squeezes out the excess water from her sodden towel. "There's your first mistake." She says with a slight laugh playing at the edges of her tone. She reaches up and gently begins to wipe across my skin, clearing it of the dried blood and very soon the crisp white towel begins to turn pink. "There are too many bones in the face, solar plexus are much softer." She stops in cleaning the scarlet from my cheek enough to disappear in her own thoughts for a moment. "Or the groin. Much more effective as well."

Nancy, with her arms folded across her chest begins to gradually pace the length of the tiled room, her head bowed and her sights firmly on the floor. "You sound like the voice of experience, Granger."

"Well I wasn't always a goody two shoes." She comments, distracted in her task.

"I find that hard to believe." I say, wincing as she presses the wet cotton to the gash on my temple. "Ow."

"Why? Because I'm clever?" Hermione completely ignores my painful outcry and even with one side of my face covered by the fluffy marital I manage to throw a questioning look in her direction. She pulls it away and while reaching up to examine the lactation, still continues to speak. "I've always been clever. Just picked up on things quicker than everyone else and I've always been kind of a bookworm, so by the time I hit year three I was just bored."

With a few final swipes across my cheek she looks happy that she has cleared the majority of the gore from it and drops the towel back into the warm water to wash as much of it away as she can. "Bored of learning? Not you Hermione."

"I wasn't learning, that was the problem." She takes my hand and rests it over her palm, slowly lowering the cloth to my skin dabbing at it gently before removing it completely to be able to see exactly what damage I have done, only showing me the top of her head as she almost nonchalantly reveals this part of her life that I have never been privy to before. "I already knew everything, which I know makes me sound big headed but I did. So I ended up in trouble most of the time." When she is happy with her assessment of one set of fingers she reaches for the other, showing it the same care and attention she had the first.

Something about her story doesn't sit right with me; it doesn't fit the perfect little box that I've put her in. My sweet, caring Hermione involved in any sort of mindless violence, not only that but practically by choice. It's so outlandish that I can barely picture it. "So you ended up fighting?" More out of habit than anything else my eyebrow rises slightly, until the stinging wound reminds me that it is still there and I am forced to tightly close my eye.

Only showing me the top of her head as her gaze is firmly placed on the back of my hand I can't see the look in her eye but I can see her nod. "Among other things."

Nancy, who presumably has seen that much of the blood has been washed away, deems it safe to come a little closer, leaning back against the furthest sink. "Hermione 'know it all' Granger was a scrapper." She says around a snigger but not in any deprecating way. The look in her eyes is different to that, something close to respect but not quite that strong. "Well that's a turn up for the books." She then raises her chin in obvious question, as committed to the answers as I appear to be. "So, come on. Put us out of our misery. What changed?"

Resting her hand on my hip she leans around me to pull the plug on the sink, turning on one of the taps to wash away the last remains of gore from the porcelain. "I got my letter to Hogwarts. Suddenly there was the whole world that could never have existed before; fountains of knowledge that before were just fiction and I just want to learn every single thing."

"That's surprising." Nancy says, catching my eye for a second in wonder at my silence. In truth she is asking all the questions that I had been thinking of and at the moment my thoughts are far to muddled to be able to put it into any coherent order so it's much safer if she takes the lead. "All these years, I thought you just had something to prove. You know being a…" I can hear her teeth snap together even from this distance. Stopping her line of thought as she realises exactly where she is, whom she's with and the fact that she is outnumbered. "A urm…" She pauses and clears her throat clearly unable to come up with any word that might appease us both.

"I think the term you're looking for is Muggleborn." I supply, while attentively touching my fingertips to my temple. Only to harshly jerk them away, the tenderness indicating how much it is beginning to swell.

Using her hand to indicate she would like to drive the conversation onwards she begins to lose her nerve. "Yeah, that."

Hermione takes a step back, her eyes losing focus at some point high above her shoulder, lost in her own memories. "My blood status didn't really become an issue until second year, back then I think I just wanted to learn."

"So you have something to prove now?" There is a question laced through Nancy's voice. In fact there are several, mostly centred over who she wants to impress and why.

Hermione doesn't disappoint me. Whether she heard the questions as I did matters very little because she still gives a vague reply of, "Don't we all?" before settling every ounce of her attention back to me, her eyes momentarily flicking to the wound on my head which has thankfully stopped bleeding. "You should probably go to bed."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." I concede in a second, lightened by the notion that I might not need to support my own weight for much longer. So bone weary that feel I could happily sleep for a week, should the sun choose to remain behind the horizon for that long.

The gentle smile that plays on her lips is in direct contest to the hard stone in her deep eyes but somehow she still manages to keep her tone light. "Do you want some company?"

The grumble that Nancy emits borders on concealed laughter. "Oh, I can't allow that."

Hermione stares into me, like she knows that I have ways and means of changing her mind. Challenging her in ways that Hermione would never think of, which normally might be true but at the moment I am having difficulty keeping myself upright and focusing on the conversation at the same time.

Another matter that I must contend with is that on this issue I agree with Nancy, probably not for the same reasons. Nancy can't allow it because if Umbridge ever found out that her attempts to segregate me had failed I don't even want to imagine the consequences. My reasons are much more simple. There isn't enough space for us both to occupy for any great length of time and I don't want to subject Hermione to what should be my incarceration.

It's the way she's looking at me that makes me stop from arguing with her. She has a thousand reasons to remain with me throughout the night. I can see them dancing around behind her hard eyes but she cannot put voice to them. Not with a witness so close when she has been trying so hard to conceal the extent of my injuries; which can't have been easy with my currently short attention span and the shear amount of blood that coated my skin until recently.

Tightly closing in my eyes until I can hear the thunder behind them, I try to clear my mind of the fog and mist that has settled there. There has to be something, after a whole day there has to be one thing Nancy has let slip that I can use. That I can call upon. I know there are several of them that I took special note of but can't for the life of me recall anything of consequence.

It takes far longer than I would have liked and my plan of attack is flimsy at best. "Odd, that you would try to uphold Umbridge's rules when just this morning you expressed distaste at being in her personal army."

The pitch of Nancy's voice drops significantly. Gone is the mirth and the mild admiration she held when discussion Hermione life before Hogwarts. Now I am faced with annoyance and disbelief. "What?"

"Actually, I'm certain you said 'personal bloody army'." I catch Hermione's gaze that she has kept on me, until now. Imploring with her to take this as far as she can because having to think like this is beginning to make my head pound to such an extent that I the edges of my vision are starting to turn black.

I'm just lucky that I fell for someone who took enough notice of my facial cues to be able to pick up where I leave off. "Yeah, I think I heard that."

"Yeah, so? It's not like she's ever believe either of you." Nancy is irritated I can hear it. A stray comment made in passing coming back around to bite her but she should have known better, known I would have used it when it was necessary.

"True." Hermione admits slowly. "But how many people were at that table, or the one behind us? It shouldn't be difficult, putting some doubt on your loyalties. She's almost as paranoid of Mad Eye lately."

Nancy's anger overtakes her for just a moment, stepping forward with an accusing finger outstretched in Hermione's direction. "Why you little…" She never finishes that though. Possibly because she recollects that this woman standing firmly in front of her has just admitted to being in a number of physical fights in her preteens and that Nancy has neglected to draw her wand. The notion both angers and pacifies her in equal measure and she draws her outstretched hand into a fist while biting down harshly on her lower lip. Her gaze snaps in my direction and her jaw tightens with annoyance. "Now I understand why you like her." She doesn't comment any further just takes a look up and down the Gryffindor prefect before relenting, stepping around her to pull open the door. "Well come on then, let's get this bloody over with."

~X~

A/n Okay, okay fine, I admit it. This was a much better way to deal with her imprisonment and much more fun for me. I get to polish Hermione a little and I get a shiny new character to play with. I just didn't have any intention of this being quite so… well long. But there you have it.
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By The Light