Count Your Blessings

Hermione woke with the sound of explosions booming around her. Throwing her sheets from her, the curly-haired witch grabbed her wand and darted from her dormitory. Smoke, deep, dark, black smoke rose from the halls and filled the Gryffindor Common room. A body lay motionless at the bottom of the stairs in a heap. Nappy brown hair covered the figure’s face and as Hermione rounded the body, she gasped and felt her stomach churn. Lavender Brown.

She was huddled in the fetal position, her eyes wide and a small trickle of blood protruding from the corners of her lips. Dead. She was dead. The stench of bodily fluids filled Hermione’s nostrils – causing her to slap her hand over her mouth and try not to retch. Another explosion, followed by bright lights emitted from the corridor and Hermione felt her feet move. Now was not the time to cry or get lost in one’s head.

“Run! Expelliarmus!” some one cried as they darted down the burning corridor.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” another person boomed, his foot steps heavy enough to leave noticeable sounds above the explosions.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione whispered as she threw herself back against the wall when a bright green spell whizzed past her. “Hogwarts is under attack!”

Something beside her exploded and she saw a body, in Hogwarts robes, fly across her. Eyes wide Hermione watched the body of Professor McGonagall slump to the floor. Her robes were dirty and face scarred, bleeding heavily, as a Death Eater Apparated in front of her. The wards on the grounds had been broken, but how? Hermione felt her body tense and as hard as she tried, she could not move.

“Bow to me, witch,” the Death Eater breathed, pointing a crooked wand at her Professor.

“Never,” McGonagall wept, trying to life her wand but her hand had been charred beyond recognition.

“Then DIE!” the cackle of the Death Eater over shadowed the screams McGonagall expelled.

Hyperventilating, Hermione gripped onto her wand and brushed back burning tears as her mentor fell to the ground writhing in pain. Blood gurgled from her ancient throat, her eyes wide and blood shot. Hermione felt unnerving anger rush through her as McGonagall’s life flashed in front of her eyes – projecting her death through her thoughts.

“NO!” Hermione shouted, causing the Death Eater to turn and look at her.

She felt her courage rush through her as she ran across the ground barefoot – ignoring the stabbing pains of rubble she stepped on. Her wand out, Hermione flicked and blasted the Death Eater back. She swung her wand around and cast a protection spell around her when he threw a spell at her. It ricocheted and hit the wall beside him, blasting it forward. Dust filled the corridor and in a millisecond, he was gone. She stood around with tears breaking down the dirt across her cheeks.

The halls were eerily silent, causing her to walk numbly down the stairs where she stopped and nearly collapsed. The Patil twins were strewn across the stairs, theirs eyes wide with horror and blood dripping from them. She walked slowly past their bodies, trying to keep herself breathing but she nearly collapsed when she slipped on a puddle of blood. Falling into it, Hermione’s wide eyes traced the path and she let out a horrified sob.

Remus Lupin lay in the arms of Nymphadora Tonks, both eyes wide and dead. Nymphadora’s hair was a mousy brown – her natural hair color – and Remus’ face was torn open. It would have been hard to recognize him, if not for the wedding band he wore on his left finger. Hermione pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as tears began falling onto the ground.

No. This was so wrong. All of this. She felt her body move, even if she wanted to do nothing but sit there and sob. She had to find the others, where ever they were. A loud scream erupted through one corridor and Hermione rushed after the sound – her wand dipped low beside her. She rounded the corner and felt a blast of cold air hit her so hard that she fell back.

“Ronald! Ronald!” Luna’s muffled cries shouted as she held onto the bleeding body of Hermione’s best friend.

He was gurgling on blood, twitching heavily with one hand grasping onto his wand. The other was being held by Luna – who had tears running down her eyes. She looked briefly to Hermione before letting out a horrified scream as something pierced her from behind and fell over Ron’s body, dead.

Trying to breath and get her barings straight, Hermione rose to her feet and ran. She felt like a coward but she couldn’t help it. She ran as fast as she could, blasting back several large boulders. Where was Harry, Neville, Ginny? Blood covered the floor as she ran and she felt herself slide across one landing, nearly colliding with a wall. Neville was battled Yaxley and Hermione was determined to help.

She jumped down over several steps, passing the bodies of Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan – both of who were bleeding non-stop. Waving her wand in front of her, she blasted Yaxley – who just shot a spell at Neville. Neville’s eyes widened as he was hit with a bright green light and fell back, his eyes soulless and dead.

“Neville!” Hermione sobbed, crouching down onto her knees as she held onto him, brushing his hair from his war torn face.

She was too late. Too late.

“Too late,” came a soft voice from behind her, causing Hermione to turn. “We’re too late.”

Ginny Weasley sat in the corner with the body of Harry Potter, her cheeks stained with her tears as Harry lay limply into her arms. Ginny’s eyes never left him but she rocked back and forth, sobbing heavily.

“Too late,” she kept repeating, “We’re too late.”

“Ginny,” Hermione whispered, closing Neville’s eyes as she moved on her hands and knees to the girl – ignoring the loud explosions and cackling behind her. “Ginny, we have to…”

“Too late,” she didn’t look up or even acknowledge Hermione was there, “We’re too late. Too late.”

“Ginny. Ginny!” Hermione shouted, trying to stir her friend but she didn’t move beyond rocking back and forth. “Please, we have to get out of here. We have to find the others.”

Ginny’s eyes finally tore from Harry long enough to look at her, “We’re too late, Hermione.”

Her eyes were soulless but she was still alive. Looking behind her, Hermione rose and had no choice. “Stay here Ginny, stay hidden.”

“Too late, we’re too late.” Ginny repeated, her eyes locked back onto Harry.

Hermione started off down the corridor, her eyes burning with tears, blood of others streaming down her face and covered in dirt. She rounded the corner and stopped as a door open. Letting out a cry of relief, Hermione covered her mouth.

Snape! He stood in front of his office and Hermione felt herself picking up speed to reach him. As she reached him, she came to an abrupt halt. His eyes were dripping with blood and his wand was outstretched at her. No. No. Hermione moved just as his body fell over her narrowly missing her by a centimeter.

“NO!” Hermione let out an anguished howl and doubled over, crouching and sobbing heavily.

Everyone was dying around her and she couldn’t do anything to help, to stop it all. Nothing.

“Hermione.” A voice from behind her cooed, startling the witch.

She looked and her eyes widened. Draco Malfoy stood at the end of the hall relatively unscathed but with shining blue eyes. His face twisted into a sneer as he started after her. She rose to her feet and sprinted out of the way, down the corridor. Draco’s steps echoed across the now quiet halls. Hermione couldn’t breath, she could hardly see for Pete’s sake, but she kept running.

Her feet carried her down the steps as fast as they could without making her trip, although she had almost on several occasions. More bodies, more blood. She gagged at the scents around her but kept running. Her body smashed into a wall when she looked behind her and she suddenly grew quiet. A hissing voice surrounded her, followed by mild talking and a voice…Dumbledore.

Peering over the corner, she watched as Dumbledore was forced to his knees in front of the Dark Lord. Voldemort held his wand out to Dumbledore’s throat and laughed manically.

“You have lost Dumbledore. The Boy Who Lived is no more. Your faithful followers are dead. Their blood seeping into the grounds of my school. Now, BOW TO ME!”

“The wind may howl at the mountain, Tom,” Dumbledore rasped, “But it does not move the mountain. You may kill me but I have many on my side. There will always be opposition, always…”

“Avada Kadavra!” Voldemort hissed, casting the brightest pale of green light over Dumbledore, who fell to the ground on his face. His half moon spectacles lay a skew on his face, eyes no longer twinkling.

Hermione took a step back and kicked a stone, causing Voldemort to look up. Their eyes met and she felt her power begin to strip from her by the look in his red demonic eyes. He smirked and held his wand out.

“Kill the girl,” Voldemort ordered, “Draco. Kill her.”

From behind him, Draco appeared looking pale and menacing. His hair was ruffled and held heavy bags under his beautiful eyes. She tried to move but managed to take several steps back before he grasped onto her and pushed her against the wall, crushing her wrist with his grasp. Hermione let out a painful cry and arched her neck, feeling his lips against her.

“Granger,” he purred against her throat, chuckling when she brought her free hand to his face to try and gouge his eyes from him but he merely leaned back.

Her hand ripped at his robes and tore at the scars that she had caused when Fenrir attacked her. They glistened under the flickering torch light causing him to emit a heavy growl that didn’t match his face. Hermione began hyperventilating again, squirming against him as he tore at her nightgown, ripping her bra from her and pushing her hips against the wall.

“Don’t fight it.” He breathed against her neck, biting her hard enough to draw blood, “Don’t fight me.”

“Draco! STOP!” Hermione pleaded as she felt one of his hands grasp at her breast, rolling it against his palm while his other hand moved to his trousers.

“You fucked me once,” he growled, “You’ll fuck me again. And again…and again.”

Hermione’s eyes widened when he pushed his engorged length into her, slamming his hips upward into her unwilling tight heat. She cried and arched her back against the wall – her hand still trying to claw at his face. The pain was unbearable, blinding and excruciating.

“Tell me you love me,” Draco rasped, thrusting upward with sheer strength his manhood tearing at her folds. “Tell me you love me, mudblood. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Gods, DRACO NO!” Hermione screamed as she felt a hand grasp onto her jaw and push her against the wall.

Her legs flailed from between him but it didn’t deter his thrusts. The blood from his ministrations and tearing at her intimate walls helped lubricate her but it stung and burned.

“You did this to me,” he growled, gripping onto her jaw hard as his body shook over her – ramming his hips into her own, “You made me a monster. You ruined me!”

He pulled from her and spun her around, shoved her against the wall. Just as Hermione took a breath she felt him penetrate again but from behind. Gripping onto the wall, Hermione let out a shrill cry and began sobbing as his thrusts were primal and rushed. He held onto her stomach and hip with his hands, bucking into her frantically.

“Hermione!” He called, slamming his hips against her backside, bruising her hip with his hand, “Hermione!”

Her eyes shot open and she nearly collided into a body. Falling back in her seat, she stared up at a figure – whose face was shadowed by the light over him.

“Are you ok?” he breathed, leaning down, his face coming into view. “You were screaming back here. I thought…”

“Nott,” Hermione panted, bringing her hand to her head as she let out a groan. She had fallen asleep while studying and what a nightmare.

“C’mon let’s get you to the infirmary,” he said quietly, bringing his hands to the crooks of her elbows.

“I’m…I’m fine.” Hermione whispered, rising to her feet only to fall forward and have Theodore Nott catch her.

“Yes, fine as in ‘I’ve fallen and can’t get up’ now c’mon,” Theodore said with a mild grin, wrapping one of her arms around him as he lifted her to her feet.

“It was a dream,” she continued whispering as Nott walked her out of the library, “All of it. It was a dream.”

“I’m sure it was a pretty bad one too,” Nott replied, looking down at her. “What was it about?”

“Death,” Hermione simply replied as they climbed the stairs, “Blood and death.”

“Ah, those aren’t particularly fun,” Nott shrugged, “At least it wasn’t about you failing. I’m sure you would have exploded the entire library.”

Hermione found herself smiling although her heart was plummeting and beating wickedly fast. They rounded the corner but Nott stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione looked to him and opened her mouth to speak when some one cut her off.

“What is going on?” Draco’s voice echoed across the halls, dropping his books as he raced to Theodore.

He looked between the two, his eyes lingering on Hermione. As if realizing what he had done, Draco stiffened and sneered, “Go figure you’d go after my leftovers, Nott.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Hermione squeaked, frowning – her head reeling from her dream of him.

“Excuse me?” Draco snapped, stepping up to Hermione, “How dare you speak to me that way, mudblood.”

“Oh shove off, Draco.” Nott said with a roll of his eyes, “I’m taking Hermione to the infirmary. Now get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

Draco looked up at Nott, his eyes changing to a mild form of worry before switching back and snarling, “I’ll take her then.”

“What?” Both Nott and Hermione said in unison.

“I’m on my way there anyway,” he grasped onto Hermione’s arm and pulled on her, “Let go.”

“No. You let go,” Nott growled, holding Hermione to his side.

She suddenly felt like a doll or toy two boys were fighting over and while that might have been ideal in any other situation – right now she wanted to sleep and was just about to hurl. Second that. She was going to hurl and she did. All over Draco.

“YUCK!” Draco howled, jumping back as Hermione’s lunch splattered all over him.

Nott chortled and waggled his eyebrows, “Looks as if you made her vomit, Draco. So much for being irresistible. C’mon Hermione.”

“Hey!” Draco called as Nott carried a dizzy Hermione, “You’ll pay for this, Granger!”

“Send me the dry cleaning bill,” Hermione mumbled against Nott, who laughed – apparently knowing what a dry cleaner was while Draco looked confused.

They made it to the infirmary without any other projectile messes, although Hermione had nearly fainted again. Nott laid her on a cot and fetched Madam Pomfrey – who rushed to the Gyrffindor with several potions handy.

“Oh dear,” Madam Pomfrey mumbled, closing the curtain around Hermione and shooing Nott outside while she helped her change into her hospital gown.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” Hermione mumbled as Madam Pomfrey looked her over, “Ever since I got the potion from Snape. I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Potion? What potion?” Madam Pomfrey asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“The potion to help…” Hermione breathed, feeling clean air fill her lungs, “Potion to help me. Curse. Hex. Something makes me…makes me needy. For..s-sex.”

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened and she tisked, bringing several more potions from her apron – which she figured was charmed to be bottomless.

“Drink this. This should let you sleep,” Madam Pomfrey whispered, tilting Hermione’s head back as she swallowed the bluish potion. “I must speak to Professor Snape.”

She stood and pulled the curtain back, scowling, “Now you two do not bother the girl. She’s very exhausted.”

Nott nodded but Draco, who had just arrived in clean clothes – no doubt cleaned via a spell – scowled. They moved in unison to the edge of Hermione’s cot where Nott reached for her hand and touched it, rubbing his thumb against her skin.

“If I didn’t know any better, Nott. I’d say you’re in love with the Mudblood,” Draco snapped, his chest heaving slightly.

“I like her, Draco, she’s smart and nice,” Nott simply replied, “And most of all she loves you – loved – but for that period of time when you two were together you were my friend again. Like when we were kids.”

“People grow up, Theo,” Draco replied with a small voice, “You can’t possibly understand…”

“I don’t really have to, now do I?” Theodore asked, looking up to his friend, “I know what’s going to happen in a few days time but I really do hope you’ve chosen the right side.”

“And what about you? Which side have you chosen?”

“The right one,” Nott stood against Draco and stared at him, their eyes meeting, “If you hurt Hermione Granger, Weasley and Potter are not the only ones you will have to deal with. Let’s just end this conversation with that.”

He pushed past Draco and strolled out of the room but stopped at the door, “Oh, and Draco?”

Draco turned with a quirked eyebrow, his face cold and like stone, “I know what you’re trying to do and it doesn’t work. Remember? Sound like you’re stepping on a box of kittens. She’s not daft either.”

He nodded to the sleeping form of Hermione before leaving with a tip of an invisible hat. Draco leaned back against the bed, his hand inching toward Hermione’s but he hesitated. No, this was wrong. All of it. He rose and strode out of the room, blinking back what one would think was doubt – or in some cases tears.