Deliver Me

Chapter XXI – The Dreamers, the Liars and Everyone in Between


Hermione woke earlier than she intended. Severus was still sleeping soundly beside her. Without thinking twice, she slowly climbed out of bed, put on her robe and left.

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Ginny was still asleep when Ron awoke. He almost fell off the bed too, she kept moving her arms and legs, throwing them in all directions; he could have sworn she smacked him during the night. Tired of fighting the space-on-the-bed-battle with Ginny, he left the room and headed for the shower.

When Harry walked in a couple minutes later, Ron was brushing his teeth.

“Sleep well?” Harry asked.

Ron narrowed his eyes, toothbrush in mouth, giving Harry his answer.

“Better she run to you then, though, right?” Harry continued. “For all you know, she could have run to share Malfoy’s bed.”

And Ron almost choked.

He rinsed his mouth, “Don’t joke about that, mate.”

Harry was washing his face, “I mean think about it, she ran to you first, something to be glad about. She’s not forsaking you for ferret boy.”

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Breakfast was as much of an event as it always was. Hermione was eating extremely fast, before running off to the library. While, Harry and Ron were reading the Daily Prophet. The Slytherins seemed to be genuinely jumpy around Ginny, who made no exceptions in throwing dirty looks and foul mouths to anyone who had anything to say to her.

Ron noticed that Hermione didn’t even glance up at the High Table. It was as though things were sort of finding a medium. But, his sister was still sulking, looking like someone died.

He glanced over at the Slytherin table and Malfoy was looking just as bleak as Ginny. Pansy was chattering in his ears about dragon-scaled luggage bags, while he stared into space, twirling his fingers in circles making the spoon in his teacup stir slowly. Blaise was a few chairs down reading a book. When she felt eyes on her, she looked up at him and gave him a little smile before returning to whatever it was that was keeping her attention.

Ron rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Blimey,” he muttered out loud.

“What?” Harry asked, looking up from the paper.

Ron twisted his mouth and exhaled loudly, grunting angrily in the process.

Harry looked unamused and went back to reading the paper.

“Everyone’s gone flippin’ mad,” another comment from Ron’s lips.

Harry continued to read the paper and just nodded his head.

“Well, say something damn it! Don’t just sit there and look and me and nod like you’re a blasted mimic doll!” he shot at Harry.

Harry did not look up, “I’m listening.Relax, you wouldn’t want the entire school knowing what ails you.”

Ron looked over at Ginny, who was sitting with her forehead resting on the table, covered by red hair, her arms outstretched to the other side, barely grasping her teacup.

“You look dead,” Ron remarked.

“Let me die in peace then,” she muttered against the tabletop.

“You’ll spill your tea,” he added.

“Pish posh, it won’t matter if I’m dead. I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days,” she said in another muffled, senseless comment.

“Will the two of you stop it?” Harry finally said, folding the Daily Prophet and getting up to leave. “I’m going to the common room to finish my paper. You’re both too bloody annoying this morning. It’s too early to start this again.” And he was gone, walking out of the Great Hall in a couple strides.

“What’s his problem?” Ginny asked, tilting her head up.

Ron shook his shoulders.

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Hermione was reading in a little corner of the library near a window when he showed up.

“Is it not improper for you to fraternize with a student outside of the classroom?” she asked.

“Am I fraternizing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, are you?” she countered.

“What are you reading?” he inquired.

“A book,” she answered.

“I see that, what book?”

“‘The Physics of Flight.’ It was written by Susan Bones’ uncle Frederick.”

“Why?”

“Because I read, that’s why.”

“Aren’t you cranky this morning,” he wittily remarked.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Whatever.”

“Such is the tongue of the young.”

Hermione turned a page and wrote something down. Before she could write more, Severus took the paper out of her grasp to look at it. He was stunned; it was filled with what looked like Muggle mathematical equations and translated into wizard numbers. Why on earth would she be doing this?

“Because it’s what I do,” she said as if she read his mind. It was more like the expression on his face.

“Do you have class this morning?”

“Don’t you?”

“I asked first.”

“Herbology in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, the only class Neville Longbottom seems to succeed at.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“Why must you defend that disaster so?”

“Because he’s my friend, and he’s not a disaster. He just requires guidance.”

“Guidance that you seem to be more than willing to give him.”

“Of course, I never let down my friends.”

“Gryffindor loyalty. Is he your friend?”

“Did I not just say that?” she asked.

Severus gave a slight nod.

Hermione began to pack up her books. “I have run. Thesis lessons changed today right? Five to seven, before dinner, yes?” she asked. Without waiting for him to answer she ran out of the library.

She arrived at the greenhouse and took her seat between Neville and Ron, whom Harry sat next too.

“Morning, Hermione,” Neville remarked, putting on his gardening gloves.

“Morning.”

“What about me? No good morning, Ron?” Ron asked, placing his goggles on his eyes.

“I just saw you at breakfast,” she answered.

“Well if it isn’t Weasel and Granger -” a voice sneered at the other side of the long table.

“Shut up, ferret boy,” Hermione snapped before he could finish whatever crude remark was ready to slip out of his mouth.

“You surprise me, Mudblood,” he muttered.

“Not more than you surprise me.” That came from Ron. “I didn’t know Slytherins liked Gryffindor red. The burning’s hot isn’t it?”

Draco’s exasperation and jaw dropping were covered nicely, by a upwards, superior tilt in his head. “Have you read the Daily Prophet today, Pans,” he muttered, turning to Pansy who was holding a copy in her hands.

Hermione threw Ron a questioning look, but didn’t have time to voice her question because Professor Sprout walked in and the lesson began.

Double Herbology was soon over and the Slytherins and Gryffindors left the Greenhouse in a rush, to head over to the woods for a double Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

“That was brilliant Ron, you shut Malfoy up real good this morning,” Hermione commented on the walk over to the woods. “I just don’t understand,” she continued, “What do you mean, Slytherins like ‘red’?”

Harry who had been silent for the majority of the morning couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is everyone in on some joke that’s I’m unaware of?” she asked again.

“We’ll tell you later,” Ron told her. “Better yet, Hermione, next time you see Ginny, ask her.”

She nodded her head in complete puzzlement. “Well, alright, if you say so.”

Upon arriving to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest, it seemed as if Hagrid’s interests were tame for a change. Today’s lesson seemed like it would be caring for baby unicorns, a sure first.

“No spiders, snakes, skewts or hippogriffs – the bloke’s getting soft,” said Ron to Harry.

“Hippogriffs were neat,” Harry commented.

“What are you two going on about?” asked Hermione, who finished a conversation with Susan Bones, before joining them.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

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The dungeons were dark when Hermione arrived. Severus was sitting by the fireplace, watching a large, clear pot, heat over the fire. It had an aqua tint to it as it sprouted purple vapor, not smoke.

“What is that?” she asked walking towards him.

“Good evening to you as well, Miss Granger.”

“Oh, you do possess a sense of humor.”

He didn’t answer her.

“What’s on the schedule for this evening?” she continued.

“Come. Sit. Watch,” he motioned to the large item over the fire.

“Do you know what I’m making, Hermione?” he asked her.

“To be quite honest – no.”

He nodded for he knew she didn’t, but the educator in him was compelled to ask.

“Have you ever heard of the ivory poison?” Severus inquired.

Hermione shook her head.

“It’s very difficult and rarely ever made, because its’ ingredients come from a place far out of reach.” Once he awhile he glanced up at her, before continuing his stirring.

He continued, “The ivory poison has another name, however, a name you perhaps, might be familiar with.”

She waited for him to tell her what it was, but he never did. Severus sat there in silence and continued to pine over the boiling substance.

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“Bloody hell, where in the name of Godric is that stupid book?” Ron thought out loud. He was in the library attempting to write, his would be many rolls of parchment, for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“You’re looking in the wrong section,” said a voice from behind him.

Without turning around, fully well-knowing it was Hermione, he screeched at her. “Listen Hermione, this is the bloody correct section, and I’ve checked everywhere else – and don’t bother giving me your ‘restricted section’ lecture because I’m in no bloody mood to hear it and furthermore – Blaise!”

He jerked his head in complete surprise when he realized it wasn’t Hermione who was trying to help him, it was Blaise.

“Lovely to see you too Ronald,” she smiled at him sweetly. “And I’m not Hermione by the way. I think we look a bit different.”

“Dear god, I’ve internalized her.” He ran his fingers through his ginger hair looking a bit distressed by the fact.

Blaise let out a soft giggle. She pulled him by his tie and dragged his lips to hers giving him a little peck. “Darling, I have your book. Well, one of the copies anyway. I checked it out from that section,” she said, pointing to the other end of the library. “Over there, a couple hours ago. I’m finished and you may have it.”

“May I? Really now…” he mocked her.

Twenty minutes later, Harry found them studying near the bay area windows.

“What time are thesis lessons suppose to be over?” he asked rather hastily.

“I don’t know, maybe another fifteen or so?” Ron answered. “Why?”

“I need to speak with Hermione.”

“Oh,” said Blaise.

“What is that suppose to mean?” asked Harry.

“I only sighed. Calm down,” she told him.

“I am calm, quite calm really,” he answered.

“Who are you trying to convince, us or yourself?” Ron asked. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that, you’ve been in a bad mood for almost two days now. Harry, you’re turning out to be worse than Ginny. I take that back - Ginny and Hermione put together … oh what a scary thought…”

“Shut up, Ron,” said Ginny appearing out of nowhere.

“Oh this is just fantastic, add another cherry to drowning sundae of distain and sarcasm,” Ron commented.

“Ron, I would appreciate it if you didn’t use my name so carelessly,” his sister requested.

“So arrest me. Like you’re any better than he is. What a lot you are, add in Draco and we’ve got ourselves a party,” said Ron.

“Move over,” she ordered and she took a seat next to him. “Are you going to study too?” Ginny looked up at Harry.

He looked anxious, “What? Oh, um, no. Not now. Ron, I need to speak with you,” and he walked out.

Ron pushed all of his books into his bag and ran after Harry.

Harry was walking so fast, it took Ron a good couple steps to finally catch up with him.

They ended up by the statue of the One-eyed Witch on their way down towards the entrance to the dungeons.

“So what’s up?” Ron asked.

“I was thinking…”

“That much is obvious.”

“Very funny, well I was thinking do you remember what we read about in Aiken’s book?”

“What part?” Ron asked.

“Well, the part about the signs of madness? And well madness in general?”

“Sure, what about it?”

“I remember there was something in there about time.”

“Okay, so how does time have anything to do with madness?”

“Just like anything that goes untreated, it gets worse. But Ron, Hermione hasn’t been getting worse. Why do you think that is?”

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Hermione looked at her watch and her lesson was almost over and the classroom was ridiculously cloudy because of the brew.

If it were nicotine, she surely could have developed cancer by the amount of that vapor she already inhaled. Most of her lesson had been spent in stillness. Severus did not speak, and she did not bother to ask him any questions or induce him into speech.

She glanced at her watch again, time was up. He didn’t seem to move.

“Severus?” she asked meekly.

“Yes, Hermione?” Words finally escaped his lips.

“Are we almost finished?”

“Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“Actually I do, I have a lot of reading to catch up on, and, well, our thesis session ended five minutes ago.”

“I see.”

She waited for a further response from him. When none came, she asked, “You see what, exactly?”

“You may go.” He stood up, waved his wand, the cloudiness in the classroom vanished and he walked into his office.

Hermione stayed where she was sitting slightly bewildered. She was tempted to follow him, but she really did have a lot of work to catch up on. So she grabbed her things and left.

Ron and Harry were walking towards her when she reached the top of the stairs leading out of the dungeons.

“We need to speak with you,” Harry informed her.

“Can we walk and talk? I really need to get my Ancient Runes books out of the tower and get some reading done.”

“Sure,” Ron said.

They walked silently for about two minutes before Hermione initiated that they ask her something. “So what is it that you wished to speak to me about?”

“Have you been drinking any, say, magical substances lately?” Harry asked.

“What? No. What are you talking about?” she inquired.

“Well I was just wondering, I mean, you’ve been doing potions all this time, maybe you and Snape mixed up something or made some sort of I don’t know – something I guess – and maybe you’ve had a drink or two.”

“Harry, you’re talking a lot of nonsense.”

“Well then, have you been inhaling anything particular lately?” he continued.

“Harry, Ron? You sound like you’re asking me if I’m on drugs! What are you talking about? Of course I inhale…air!”

“Well, what Harry means is, has there been any smoke or vapor or mist, as of late, in your potions studies?” Ron ushered.

“You’re both mad, of course I do. And you do too. With all the steam from the cauldrons and the fires, you’re bound to inhale some of it. Ah, look now, we’re here. If you two will excuse me I have some reading to do. I guess we can finish this discussion later. I think?” She disappeared up the stairs to the girls end of Gryffindor tower.

“Well, that was helpful,” Ron commented after she left.

“I think we need to speak with Snape,” Harry added.

“I don’t want to speak with him. Can’t we go to Dumbledore instead. He’s much easier to talk too. Snape’s all Slytherin and old,” said Ron.

“Better not let Hermione catch you saying that,” Harry joked as they exited through the portrait hole.

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The cup of tea in her hands was cold. Bollocks, it was all his fault. Stupid, arrogant, cruel, blasted – ugh stupid Malfoy!

Ginny’s eyes swelled up by the thought of him. She hated the stupid bastard. Oh, but he was so adorable when he was being vain. He had a sweetness about him when he toyed with her hair or when he wrapped his arms around her just because he felt like it.

Stupid boy. Stupid Draco. Mean boy. Mean Draco.

And the tears began to fall…again.

Mrs. Ginerva Cristabel Weasley Malfoy. Ginerva Malfoy. Ginerva W. Malfoy. Ginerva C. Weasley-Malfoy. Hmmm…

It wasn’t like she could ever be a Malfoy anyway. Draco’s parents would die. And how would holidays be? Their fathers would be at each other’s throats. That wouldn’t work. Her mother was definitely the polar opposite of Narcissa. Arthur and Lucius – that would be worst.

Oh this was horrible.

Ginny sniffled some more. Rising from her seat in the Great Hall, leaving her belongings behind, Ginny walked outside.

The courtyard was beautiful at night. The fountain shimmered in the moonlight. The sky was beautiful too. All the stars and a faint hint of moon.

She remembered the first time he kissed her. It was in the moonlight. They were arguing over a project Madame Hooch requested they do together, part of her inter-house-agreement idea, where different members of each house on the Quidditch teams, were paired up with another, and they had to work together, to win a two on two practice against another pair. Ginny remembered the urge to want to strangle him ever five minutes. Her eyes drifted to the clock tower at the edge of the courtyard. That was where they shared their first kiss. And she smacked him afterwards. And then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. They had a long conversation after that, spending the whole night on the shore of the lake, keeping each other’s company.

Absentmindedly, she walked over to the clock tower, tracing her steps to the lake.

Oh, it was gorgeous. One would have never thought it had all sorts of creatures living in it.

It was all his fault! Nothing ever worked out between them. If it wasn’t the Death Eaters planning things, and informing him about it. There was always fear in the back of her mind. Fear of what was going on, fear or what could happen, and what could have happened in the many times they were in each other’s company.

“Draco,” she hoarsely whispered to the stillness of empty night.

“Yes?”

She could have died right there on the spot. There he was, as perfect as ever, watching her.

“Are you following me?” Ginny inquired.

“I’m only doing what you are doing. Besides, I was here first. I saw you arrive ten minutes ago,” he told her solemnly.

She nodded, turned and walked back towards the castle.

“Ginny,” he called after her.

She turned around and he was right behind her. There was an urge inside her, to tell him what a stupid boy he was, and how all boys were stupid, and how she liked spending time with him, besides her better judgment, and how much she missed him and how much she just wanted to hold him, and to have him hold her.

“Was there something you wanted?” There was a crack in her voice.

“You’ve been crying. You are crying,” he said and his fingers touched her cheeks.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“I hate you too,” he kissed her cheek and pulled her into his embrace.

“This doesn’t mean I’m back to speaking with you,” she said, muffled statement on his neck.

“It does not mean that I am taking you back either,” he added.

“You will have to beg me before I take you back,” she answered.

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“Well, that explains it doesn’t it?” Ron commented to Harry. They had just left Professor Dumbledore’s office. “He’s been helping her.”

“He’s being noble,” Harry added. “What a change.”

“How do we know what is noble for him versus what isn’t?” asked Ron.

“We don’t,” answered Harry.

“Should we thank Professor Snape? That would be so strange.”

“Let’s see what happens…”

The boys found their way back to the Astronomy Tower.

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There was another package awaiting her when she returned to her room. First black roses, now…now…a dagger?

Why in the world would someone send her a dagger as a present? There was another card this time, and rather than ‘possession’, this time it read something a bit more, well strange.

‘The flesh always reflects the madness.’

What in the world did that mean? But it surely was a handsome dagger. Golden at it handle with a green gems lining it. It was beautiful, so lustrous and divine; she felt compelled to touch the blade and as she did it sliced into her skin.

She dropped it instantly and just stared at the object for a few moments before the pain in her hands told her she needed…that was her last rational train of thought.

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Severus was laying in his bed when she appeared. He was actually ready to drift off to sleep.

Hermione looked different. There was some kind of wanting, mad, unnerving wanting, in her eyes.

She was wearing her uniform, but her robes were discarded elsewhere. Her hair was a mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes, or perhaps they were just puffy. She looked very, very strange. Severus couldn’t put his finger quite on it.

He didn’t move but rather waited for her too, and when she didn’t, he got up. Hermione just stood there at the foot of his bed looking at something. He didn’t know what though, it was like her mind was in the room with him, but yet she wasn’t.

Severus reached for her, sliding his hand in between hers when she flinched. Almost like she flinched back to reality, only she didn’t. Her eyes looked at his with the utter most clarity and then became cloudy and dazed again.

He looked at his hand holding hers and the blood was more than evident. There was so much. It was even on the cuffs of her blouse. It was alarming.

“Hermione?” he said gently. She gave no response.

“Hermione?” he asked again with a bit more force. She still did not respond.

Severus looked at her hands more closely. Had she lost too much blood? No. Definitely not that.

And then the screaming came.

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Severus fell to the floor with her, covering her mouth with his blood stained hand. And when the screaming finally stopped, she was passed out cold on his floor.

He picked her up, placed her on his bed and bolted out of the room.

When he returned he opened her mouth and poured something down her throat. She choked, coughed and came back into regular consciousness.

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“Dear god, what happened?” Hermione asked.

“You don’t know?” Severus answered her question with a question.

She shook her head.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.

“I finished studying, and went back to my room to sleep. There was a dagger…and…” her voice trailed off.

“Yes?”

“That’s all I remember.”

He took a warm, wet towel and wiped her mouth. Her blood was gone. He then wrapped her hands in a few bandages and muttered something else which stripped her of her school clothes into one of his shirts.

“We need to talk, Hermione.”

“About what exactly?”

“You.”

She looked at him as if he struck her.

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She couldn’t run fast enough, she needed to find him. Where the bloody hell was Draco? Blaise looked everywhere. She just had a fireplace, floo network conversation with her sister Alizeé - who just attended a Death Eater meeting.

Blaise finally found him holding hands with Ginny outside the courtyard.

“I need you.” Her voice was ragged and she was out of breath.

“What?” He looked at her as unconcerned as usual.

“Now,” she rasped. Her chest was heaving.

“Blaise, you really should stop running around, it isn’t becoming of you. The sweat will dampen your scalp and flatten your hair.” He gave her a typical and sardonic Draco response.

“I just spoke to Alizeé, and you need to come with me now,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.

“Who is Alizeé?” Ginny asked when she saw Draco’s face turn hard.

He turned to her and stroked her cheek.

“No time Draco, we need to go now!” Blaise screamed, she grabbed his wrist and he let her nails dig into them.

Draco quickly brushed his lips against Ginny’s and ran off into the night with Blaise.

When they finally reached the Slytherin common room their robes were waiting for them, and standing in the floo fire was none other than Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Black Lestrange.


*** “Dear god, I’ve internalized her,” and he ran his fingers through his ginger hair looking a bit distressed by the fact. --- BBC Coupling Season 3, Steve said something similar about Jeff. And he was quite disturbed about it! ***