Penance

Hermione watched Draco disappear behind a curtain around his bed while he snarled at Madam Pomfrey who pushed him along, handing him a stack of clothes. She had finally gotten him to leave her side for a few minutes to dress. The nurse was kicking him out, saying he was fine and did not need to be brooding around her quarters any longer. She watched Ginny peek her head around the curtain blocking Harry from view at the ruckus. Hermione smiled and waved her away, silently telling her there was no problem. The ginger haired girl eyed her for a moment then went back behind the barrier. Hermione sat quietly, her mind numb, her hands clasped in her lap. She felt nothing but the tingling sensation the potion left behind in her mouth. The pain in her abdomen had all but disappeared. She couldn’t believe that she was dying; she was slowly rotting from the inside. She felt fine, a little stiff maybe, a little sore. But not fatal. She could feel the book the nurse had given her to read up on the curse under her pillow, taunting her with the truth.

She was dying. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Something had happened to Harry. She knew he would never have cursed her with so much as Jelly-Legs if he was in his right mind. Besides, she was sure he did not know the sort of magic required to carry out a spell such as this. They had done something to him, changed him, possibly turned him against them. Were they planning on using him as a weapon? She didn’t know, wouldn’t know until he woke and spoke to her, told her what was wrong. Then she could help him, find a way to bring back the boy she had known and loved. Too bad she wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy it.

She didn’t feel ill, she didn’t feel frightened, she didn’t feel much of anything. It was odd, this calm sense of acceptance. She should be raging, screaming, crying, much like Draco had done. He had thrown a fit, yelled, blew up a few things. She had calmed him down, talked to him gently. She had finally acquiesced to his research. If he could find something, she would not complain. Mostly, she knew, he would just need the feeling of doing something useful instead of sitting around waiting for her torturous demise to finally take her.

When he came back out from the curtain dressed he sat at her side, drawing a knuckle down her cheek. She couldn’t believe the man sitting in front of her was indeed Draco Malfoy and not some poetic look-alike.

“Alright, Mr. Malfoy, scoot. Miss Granger needs her rest,” Madam Pomfrey heralded. His hand stilled and his eyes darkened. She saw another burst coming on so she grabbed his hand and kissed it gently.

“Go on, I’ll meet you back at the Den in a few hours. Alright?”

He hesitated, looked as if he were about to say something. Instead he clenched her hand tightly, his jaw set before rising and nodding to the nurse. He left swiftly without another word.

Hermione was surprised to see her hand shaking upon her starch white sheet. The older woman came and plumped her pillows before reminding her that she was only a call away and slipping back into her office. Hermione wondered vaguely what the nurse did in there.

A few murmured words in the bed next to her floated to her ears. She couldn’t make out what was being said but Ginny and Luna soon emerged, walking to her.

When Ginny sat on Hermione’s bedside she could see her red-rimmed eyes, see the dark circles beneath them. Hermione couldn’t tell her now, not when she was in so much pain. She could only imagine the turmoil she was going through, watching the boy she had loved and thought dead slowly fade away. Hermione leaned forward and hugged the girl, rubbed her back as she sobbed heavily onto her shoulder, her body heaving. Luna sat behind her and laid her head against her back. Hermione lay on hand on the younger girl’s blonde head in silent sympathy to the pain of having to watch her lover mourn a former love. Hermione, however, was tearless. She simply gave her comfort and ached in the pain the girls shared. When Ginny was composed enough, Luna led her to the headmistresses office so they could take the fireplace to the Burrow. Hermione had learned that the Burrow, Den and Hogwarts here all connected and they each had a one-way connection with the Ministry. No one else could floo in or out of them to any other destination. It was rather convenient and well thought out.

Now that the hospital wing had cleared, Hermione lifted her sheet and turned her body, watching her feet drop off the side of the bed and dangle inches from the floor. She lowered them to the cold tile and marveled at the distinctly real feeling. When she placed her weight on them she expected to feel light, unsubstantial. But she smiled at the weight, the gravity-influenced pull to the earth. She was real. For now.

She made her way to Harry’s bedside, curling her legs onto his mattress. She reached out a hand and stroked his now clean hair from his eyes. It was a ghost of the man she had known. He was induced, at the moment, his body still. She knew there was something off, something not…right. He wasn’t the Harry she knew.

She jumped when a hand grabbed her wrist, stilling her motion. Her eyes widened at the manic look in Harry’s green eyes.

“Hermione…what are you doing here?” he rasped.

“Harry, it’s alright. You’re safe, you’re at Hogwarts. Do you remember what happened?” A part of her heart swelled at the sound of his voice. This was Harry, her Harry. He was safe. He was alive.

“Hermione, you have to do something for me,” he begged.

“Anything,” she promised.

“Kill me,” he whispered, his eyes screaming.

“What?” she breathed. “Harry, why would you say such a thing? What is wrong?” Hermione’s entire body shook, terrified.

“Hermione…listen to me…you have to promise me…”

“Harry, what is this? You’re scaring me, tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

“Hermione…it’s him…he’s here…”

“Who? Who is? Harry, there’s no one here.” Had he been tortured to insanity? Had he lost his memory?

“Voldemort.”

Her breath caught. “No, Harry. He’s gone, he died. You killed him at the last battle, remember?”

“No, Hermione…he didn’t die. I didn’t die. I thought I had…ARGH!” he screamed and his back arched off the bed, his fingers curling into the sheet.

“Harry! Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione screamed, terrified. Something was very, very wrong…

“No!” Harry yelled. “He’s coming! Hermione, take my memory, Dumbledor’s Pensieve. Hermione, hurry, take it before he comes! Aaarrgh!”

Hermione ran, ripping through the curtain and dove to her bedside table for her wand. She didn’t know what was happening, but Harry wanted her to take a memory, she could piece it together. Was Voldemort really on his way there? Or was Harry simply having some sort of mental breakdown?

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey’s shouts she pinned Harry down with her left hand, her right pointing to his temple.

“Now, Hermione!” he screamed. “I can’t hold him off much longer!”

Hermione quickly extracted the glistening strand, the hair-like substance dangling off the edge of her wand. She was shoved aside by the nurse and watched as she poured another potion into Harry’s screaming mouth. He choked, screamed and went silent, his body still. Hermione was breathing hard, her heart racing. What had just happened?

“Please go to your own bed, Miss Granger, so I can tend to him,” Madam Pomfrey said tersely, her own breath hard. She backed away, her eyes on her friend who was not her friend at all. She turned and ran. Not to her bed, but to the headmistresses office.

She had to find that Pensieve.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Draco stormed through the glistening doors and through the crowded front entrance. He strode to the information desk and, ignoring the line winding throughout the room, and approached the witch behind it who was currently instructing a woman with a purple gnome sticking out of her ear that she needed to proceed through the doors to her left to be admitted.

Draco shoved the witch aside who shouted “Hey!” along with many yells and grumbles from others in line.

“I need to see someone, a Healer, someone, right now,” he told the witch.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait in line,” she said, annoyed.

“No, I don’t have time for that! I need to see someone now, damn it!”

“Sir, I’m sorry but we’re doing the best we can. You’ll have to wait to be called forward,” she said and in obvious dismissal, summoned a wizard with burns on the left side of his face forward.

“This is an emergency!” he shouted, banging his fist on the desk and making the dark haired girl jump.

“Sir, please go to the back of the line and wait your turn like everyone else or I will have you removed from the premises!”

“This is bullshit! Someone is dying and you’re going to make me wait in line?”

“Who is dying, sir?” she asked, somewhat bored as if she didn’t believe him.

“Hermione Granger. She’s been hit with a curse, she needs help!”

“Where is this woman?”

“She’s not here, that’s why I need to see someone, now!”

The witch eyed him wearily, as if wondering whether or not to believe his story. Finally she pressed a white button to her left and asked him to step to the side so she could help the others in line and that someone would be out shortly. Draco did so, shuffling from foot to foot, ignoring the stares. Soon, two wizards in white robes hurried towards him and asked him to step into an office they indicated to their right. He followed them in and sat at a long table across from the Healers.

“My name is Ty Gresham, this is my colleague, William Dorchester. Can you explain to us what happened. Mr.-?”

“Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” he watched them cringe at the name.

“Yes, well, Mr. Malfoy, can you please tell us what your circumstance is?”

“My friend, Hermione Granger…she’s been hit with a curse. She’s dying and I need you to help her,” he said calmly.

“Can you tell us what kind of curse she was hit with? Are there any symptoms you can give us?” Dorchester asked, a quill, parchment and ink appearing in front of him.

“It’s called Penitus Nex, have you heard of it?”

Dorchester stopped in the process of loading his quill. The two men exchanged looks and Gresham leaned forward, hands folding on top of the table.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you aware of the effects of this curse?” he asked very slowly.

“She said it was shutting down her organs. Please, I need you to see her, to help her-,”

“Mr. Malfoy, this is a very rare curse. In fact, I’m not aware that there have been any known cases since the first uprising of You-Know-Who. Before him, the last recorded cases were...well, were done by Salazar Slytherin himself. Are you sure this is the right curse?”

“Yes! Madam Pomfrey from Hogwarts diagnosed her. Now, will you help me or not?” he snapped.

The two men stared at one another as if having a private discussion. Finally, Dorchester spoke:

“Look, we will be glad to speak with Madam Pomfrey, she is a prestigious Healer. But if she is sure this is what the young lady has…I’m afraid there is nothing we can do. I’m sorry, but once the spell is cast, there is no way to stop it. All we can do is make her as comfortable as possible-,”

“THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” he thundered, rising to his feet. “THIS IS FUCKING INSANE! You’re telling me that there is nothing-nothing-you can do about it? That in the hundreds of years this curse has been known no one has done a thing about it? No one has thought to find a way to fix it? IT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT!”

“Look, sir, I know you’re upset-,”

“I am WAY past upset! You can’t just sit there and tell me that I have to watch her die because you’re so incompetent that you cannot heal her! Where are your superiors? Where are all the real fucking Healers around here, anyway? I’m not going to just let you two pricks be her death sentence!”

“Mr. Malfoy, that’s quite enough. I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do. It is a Dark curse. If you can tell us how she came to be by it we may prevent further deaths-,”

“This is PREPOSTEROUS! I refuse to accept that there is nothing you can do! There has to be something, anything-,”

“Son, I’m sorry. Really, from the bottom of my heart. I understand your pain-,”

“You have no fucking clue-,”

“I see it every day. I’ve felt it. We’ve all lost people we love in this war, but nothing I say or do can help your friend now. If you would come with me and explain the situation, tell us who might have done it I can help to make sure no one else has to feel the pain you are feeling now.”

“You want to know who did this?” he growled.

“Yes, sir, if you have any idea who might have-,”

“Harry Potter.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Hermione burst into the headmistress’s office after climbing the winding set of stairs. The older witch jumped and look harassed.

“Miss Granger! Please, remember to knock! This is indeed my office-,”

“I’m sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean to intrude but I need your help,” she gasped.

“What are you doing out of bed? Is Poppy aware you are here?”

“No, please, this is an emergency. Harry, he gave me this, I need Dumbledor’s Pensieve. Do you have it?”

“Of course I do! Is Harry awake now? Is he able to talk?” McGonagall stood and started forward.

“No, he had to be drugged again. Professor, something’s not right with Harry, something’s really, really wrong. They did something to him, the Death Eaters; he’s trying to give me a clue. It’s like there’s a part of him that won’t let him tell me, something he’s holding back. He begged me to take this memory, I have no idea what it is but it may help us figure out what happened two years ago.”

The stern woman sucked in her thin lips, the lines peppering them pulled in a scowl. She said nothing but stepped forward to a cupboard and pulled out an old bowl full of a silver, glimmering substance. She placed it on the desk and waved her hand. Hermione dropped the strand into it and watched as it swirled and twisted into a picture of the grounds of Hogwarts. It was nighttime, people were everywhere. She recognized the scene from so long ago.

“It’s the battle,” she whispered.

“Miss Granger, are you sure you are well enough to do this? We can wait-,”

“No, Professor, I don’t think we can. Whatever is wrong with Harry is taking him fast. I’ll return in a few minutes.”

She glanced at the older woman for a moment before taking a deep breath and dipping her head into the bowl of non-water. She flipped over and landed on her feet in the bloodstained grass.

She was back.

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A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, families are time consuming. Also, I’ve been working very hard to finish editing Breaking the Chain and a working on an original alternate ending. Sounds odd, huh? Well, you’ll have to read it when I’m finished to understand what I mean.

angeles: I will try to put up tissue alerts. Sorry I forgot to on the last one!

XOXO

RynStar15