Haunted

The next couple of days for Hermione were full of unidentified voices and confusion. She drifted in and out of consciousness, not because she needed to recover, but because she wanted to forget what had happened and she hoped the next time she woke it will have all just been a bad dream.

Now she was laying stock still, breathing slow so the murmuring people next to her would believe she was still asleep. She heard Mrs. Weasley and Ginny talking beside her bed. She could differentiate their voices, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Everything she’d ever heard about losing one sense means a heightening in the others was complete dragon dung. She couldn’t hear better, nothing felt different and the potions tasted just as disgusting as before. Any food she did manage to choke down was bland. She heard the click of low heels that announced the arrival of Madam Pomfrey. She carried on her act, not wanting to deal with the endless questions. She was poked and prodded, soft warms hands fluttered over her skin. The nurse tutted angrily but left to a bed across from her which held someone else. She didn’t know who but it didn’t matter. The faceless people who floated around her blended together, one long line of endless chatter from nervous voices, no one wanting to talk about ‘the accident’, no one wanting her to ‘get upset’. She didn’t. She was numb to it all. She was blind, it was fact. Now she had to figure out how she was going to live her life this way, how she was supposed to help Harry find the rest of the Horcrux’s. There was only really one more to figure out and find, the other two were Nagini and Voldemort himself. But one of them…they hadn’t seen any trace, they had no clues. And now she couldn’t help, couldn’t research. The wizarding world did not have books for the blind, at least none she’d ever seen.

Hermione knew she needed to leave this hospital. She was fine. Still a little stiff, but there was no reason for her to be laying here, pitying her life. Twenty and blind. She would spend the rest of her days in this non-blackness, because she couldn’t say that’s what it was. It was just nothing. At all. She tried to focus on bringing pictures of what was around her to the forefront because the idea of nothing still creeped her out. She hated that sometimes she forgot to blink; she was trying so hard to see. But then it would sting, like always, and she would close them, only to open them again and see the same.

She scolded herself for her morbid thoughts. She faked waking up and turned to the hushed voices.

“Ginny?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Hermione felt a small hand on her arm and reached out to feel Ginny’s elbow.

“Can you take me back to Headquarters?”

She could feel the looks Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were exchanging.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dear…” Mrs. Weasley said nervously.

“I can’t spend my whole life here. I’m perfectly fine. I need to learn to function now that I’m blind. It won’t be easy, but I’ll never be really alone. Headquarters is always packed. Please.”

They were quiet and Ginny mumbled that she was going to get Madam Pomfrey’s consent. She felt Mrs. Weasley’s hand on her shoulder.

“Hermione, dear…there’s something you should know.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you won’t be going back to Headquarters alone. Someone will be going with you to finish recuperating as well.”

“Who? I thought you guys said everyone was alright?”

“We are, everyone is fine. It’s someone new.”

“Really? Do I know them?”

“Yes, dear. It’s Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione’s head reeled. Draco Malfoy? Why would he be going back to Headquarters? Unless… no, it was impossible. That stupid arrogant bastard would never join them willingly. They must have taken him prisoner.

“Why don’t we just throw him in Azkaban and be done with it?” she snarled. Her blood boiled at the thought of that disgusting pathetic excuse for a human being residing under the same roof as her.

“Well, now, we couldn’t do that…I know he hasn’t exactly shown his enthusiasm in joining our side but I think he’s finally seeing the light…”

“Oh yeah?” she laughed sardonically. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because he saved your life, dear.”

Hermione shot up in bed; she thought she was going to be sick. “What?”

“I know it’s a shock, dear, but did you really think he was bad all this time?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Why would he do something like that? He’s tried everything he can to kill us and now he pulls something like that? Mrs. Weasley, please, don’t be fooled by him, not again. You know what happened last time.”

“I know, dear, and we’re being very careful. But we can’t just send him back out there to be killed. Not when he brought you back to us.”

“How do you know he’s not the one who did this to me?”

“We don’t. But we have to have faith, Hermione. You were the one who told us all that there was a little good in everyone-,”

“I was naive. He corrected me. Mrs. Weasley, don’t let him fool you again. He’s just going to go back to those Death Eaters and give him all our information!”

“Hush, dear! He won’t do that. He’s promised-,”

“Like he did last time? He nearly got Harry and Ron killed, or did you forget?”

“Now, now, what are we getting so worked up about?” the voice of the nurse tsked. “Come, let me give you a last check up and see if we can get you out of here. Drink this, please.”

The nurse lifted her left hand and pressed it to a bottle. Hermione used both hands to bring it to her lips and drank it slowly so as not to spill again. She had several times but she was already getting better. The bottle was taken from her and she was assisted into a standing position. The nurse checked her over and deemed her ready to go. A curtain was pulled around her, at least she hoped so, and Ginny helped her to dress.

“Did you know about this?” she asked as Ginny guided her hand through her shirt sleeve. Her question met with silence.

“How can you all be so forgiving?” she snapped, pulling her shirt out of Ginny’s hand and pulling it on herself. She wasn’t helpless.

“Hermione, he saved you’re life. He literally dragged you out of the wreckage. We all thought the two of you were goners.”

“Well he should have just left me there,” she said bitterly. “You know he’s just trying to look good so he can send information to all his buddies. You are playing right into his hands!”

“I don’t think so…”

“Ginny, he pulled the same thing last time!”

“This is different!”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

Hermione turned away from the girl and tugged on her jeans. Then she groped around lamely for her socks, not knowing where they had been placed. They were brought to her hand and she grabbed them, pulling them onto her feet. She located her shoes in the same way, having to have them handed to her and she felt the toes to know which foot to put them on. She wasn’t quite sure if the strings would stay tied or not but she wasn’t going to ask someone to tie her shoelaces for her.

“My wand?” she asked, holding her hand out. It was placed there and she stroked it longingly. It was the end of her days as a witch. Tucking it into her jacket pocket she said, “I’m ready,” and they were off.

Ginny took her arm and led her through the halls, allowing Hermione to trace her hand against the wall for some sort of balance. Ginny told her which corridor they were in and when to step up or down and which way to turn. She hated relying so much on her friend when all she wanted to do was snub them all for being so gullible. She couldn’t even watch the bastard to make sure he wasn’t sneaking about. She was helpless. But she would talk to Harry, he would listen to her and get him out of there.

She was taken to the Headmistress’s office and McGonagall led her to the fireplace and threw in the floo for her.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” her ex-Professor asked.

“I’m sure. It’s not as if we don’t all close our eyes when we floo anyways,” she said with a smile. She stepped inside with the help of McGonagall who turned and positioned her so she wouldn’t hit the sides.

“Grimmauld Place!” she shouted and the twisting turning motion made her sick. She landed on her feet and stumbled forward, knowing the kitchen table would be there in front of her.

“Here you go,” a voice said, leading her to a chair. “Do you want to sit?”

“No, I’m alright. I’ll just wait for Ginny. Who is this?”

“Excuse me, it’s Jimmy Pace. I forgot,”

“No, no, it’s fine. Sorry, I’m just a little disoriented. How are you, Jimmy?”

“Great, good. Me pops found a few centaurs out by our place and they’ve agreed to help us out should we need it.”

“That’s fantastic! How did he do it? Centaurs are so fickle.”

“Well, me da has a way with words I suppose,” he said. Hermione heard the whoosh that signaled Ginny’s arrival.

“Thank’s Jim,” Ginny said. “I’ll take her from here. Are you staying for lunch?”

“Depends on what you’re makin’,” he said.

“Well my mom is on her way-,”

“I’ll stay.”

The girls laughed and headed upstairs. Jimmy was the new Care of Magical Creatures professor after Hagrid retired. Two years older than she was, he had joined the Order not long after their sixth year and had been around the country working on getting magical creatures to join their ranks. She knew him as tall, sandy haired with a fine face, little brown freckles dotting across his nose. He had always been so sweet to her and she loved that he supported S.P.E.W.

They got to the first floor and Ginny pulled her into her bedroom. Hermione knew what it looked like, a dresser, a bed, a desk under the window, her nightstand. Her trunk was at the foot of her bed.

“Where’s Crooks?” she asked.

“He’s in the window. Want to see him? Er, I mean…pet him…”

“Gin, it’s okay. I’m not going to freak out on you or anything.” Hermione pulled away from Ginny’s light grasp and walked forward slowly, both hands out. She felt the desk top under her fingers and slid her hand across its surface to the window sill, knocking over an ink well on the way. She felt the warm fur of her cat and grasped him. He growled at her as she cradled him in her arms. He didn’t much like being held, but she needed his comfort. He seemed to know this and endured it. When he’d had enough she set him on the floor, not wanting to accidently drop him on the desk.

“You don’t have to stay here, Gin. I know you have things to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

“Well…alright…Harry and Ron should be by in a few hours. They just went to talk to Hagrid.”

“Sounds great. Will you be around for lunch?”

“Probably not. I have to go meet up with Lavender so we can go over her notes from her last stakeout.”

“Is she still tailing Dolohov?”

“Unfortunately. She wanted to take him out but noticed he was meeting up with some rather strange people and decided she should watch him a bit more.”

“Strange people as in whom?”

“As in Croaker. He’s an Unspeakable.”

“Jason Croaker? You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. That’s why she’s still on him.”

“Who’s on Croaker?”

“Anthony. He’s got Moody’s invisibility cloak.”

“Good. Anything else new?”

“Grawp learned a new word.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep. He now says ‘ostentatious’ everywhere he goes.”

They laughed and Ginny hugged her goodbye. Hermione made her way to her bed and wondered vaguely how she was ever going to match her clothes again. She smiled a little, thinking about wearing two different socks, backwards jeans, her orange shirt and purple jacket. It was a good thing she didn’t have much to match. All their wardrobes were limited and when you were out on a mission usually one pair of clothes would have to do you. No one really had personal possessions anymore, everyone gave for the group. If you needed something, it would be provided. Money was generally pooled and dispersed for certain things. Ron had needed a new cloak last November after Crabbe Sr. burnt his sleeve off so Lupin had handed him the money and they’d gone out to get him a new one. That was the way it was. No one went without but no one had many unnecessary items. Hermione donated all her books to their research lab (a.k.a, the library on the fourth floor). It didn’t bother her, she was the one in there most of the time anyway. Now, however, that room was as useless to her as a candle. Sighing, she stood and decided to see how well she could make her way around the house.

**************************************************

Draco glared at the chair.

“I’m not using it.”

“Draco, dear, it’ll be a great help to you,” Mrs. Weasley said, her hands coming around her plump body to clasp nervously. “You’ll be able to get around where you want to until you’re done recuperating. Arthur worked so very hard on it…”

Draco was repulsed. The chair looked like your average chair with arms and no legs. It floated waist high and could be steered by wand. Supposedly.

“And what if it just decides to chuck me out?” Draco asked.

“It won’t dear. Arthur tried it himself. It’s really very safe…”

“I’ll stay here, thanks. Granger didn’t sound too ecstatic to have me lurking around anyways.” He was glad for this excuse as he wanted any to not have to stay in a house with that bushy haired freak and her annoying friends. He didn’t mind rotting away in this bed. It was as good as any other.

“You can’t stay here! Why, you need to get up, get around. You’ll feel much better, I’m sure.”

“What does it matter? What’s a wizard who can’t walk?”

“You can, you just have to work hard-,”

“NO I CAN’T! I’m a fucking cripple! All because of that stupid twit! I’m not getting in that chair and I am not spending the rest of my days locked up with Potty and his sidekicks!”

Draco was incredibly surprised when her hand came out and slapped him right across the face. His head swung to the side and he grabbed the throbbing cheekbone, glaring up at the woman.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You watch your tongue! You should be grateful for all we’re doing and instead you are wallowing in self pity! Now I won’t stand for it, not one bit. You get your little bum in that chair and we are going to Headquarters.”

“Make me.”

He shouldn’t have said that. Her chest swelled like a balloon and she ripped back his covers, hefting him while he yelled and hollered. She ignored him and dropped him bodily into the chair. He looked up at her in shock.

“Now come along. You won’t like the way I steer these things,” Mrs. Weasley said, handing him his wand. Uttering about mad witches, he followed her through Hogwarts and out into the spring air so they could aparate. They landed outside a dingy Muggle street with a row of old, decaying houses.

“Close your eyes, dear,” Mrs. Weasley told him and he did so, not fancying another slap in the face. “I’m going to have to push you into the house but then you can steer around on your own.”

Draco allowed her to push him forward, his useless legs dangling over the edge of the damnable chair. His surroundings turned dark and the wind quieted. A door shut and Mrs. Weasley told him he could open his eyes now.

He looked around. The inside was as dreary as the outside. He’d been here once before. He knew that straight forward was the kitchen and that the rooms were above. Mrs. Weasley showed him upstairs, the chair floating over the steps. She took him to a room on the first floor and showed him inside. There was a bed, a desk (with no chair) and a wardrobe. An intricately carved mirror hanging on one wall and a single window were the only decorations.

“This will be your room. Feel free to organize as you please with your things. Arthur will be bringing some items for you after lunch. It’ll be ready in an hour, I expect you to be there.”

The woman left and Draco scowled after her. He glided over to the bed and threw himself on the surface. He wouldn’t move for that woman or anyone else. He decided he would die here, waste away.

Until she walked in.

**********************************************

XOXO

RynStar15