Erlking

*a/n* This is a biggie...

Chapter Three.

Hermione went to bed, and Ginny went downstairs to make her excuses to the others, who were perfectly willing to believe Hermione had her nose stuck in her book at this early hour and could not be pried away.

She stared at the chink in the curtains and found that though she was exhausted, sleep would not come. Time passed and the beam of light that fell across her bed irritated her more and more until she got up and yanked the curtains shut so that annoying chink was gone and darkness filled the room.
As if on cue,a stabbing pain shot through her neck and her knees buckled underneather her. Clasping her hand to the dressing over her neck, her mouth parted on a silent gasp of pain and she crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

She heard the sea before she saw it. Opening her eyes, she saw the trembling blue sky that precedes dawn,and water clear to the horizon.
Her hands were planted in damp,cold, sand and her knees were pulled up to her chin.
She sat like that for a long time, watching the gulls circle in the sky and listening to the waves, sifting sand through her fingers. She felt that peculiar melancholy that only those who have been awake through the night feel,when dawn comes. The weight of her worries pressed down on her and she was glad of this breif respite,and the calming influence of the sea.
When the sun eventually appeared, and the night's cold dissipating, she heard footsteps crunching over the sand,but felt no need or desire to turn around. This was someone she knew and trusted.
The person was quiet for a long time,then finally spoke in a voice as sad as she felt.
"I thought I might find you here." he said.
She knew that voice,it was very familiar,but it was a tone she had never heard it use before and it's owner's name eluded her.
She wanted to turn and look, but found she couldn't. She couldn't even shift her eyes.what on earth...?
"Is it done?" he asked. She felt herself nod without knowing why.
"Good. Maybe they can figure out a way..." The voice trailed off.. She felt movement beside her and an arm settle round her shoulders. Without conscious violition, she leant into it, and felt the figure stiffen, as if they were suprised, then relax. They sat for a long time,and Hermione took pleasure in the simple comfort of being held,surrendering control, even though a small voice in the back of her mind insisted that SHE was the adult, and she should be doing the comforting,not him. She stomped on it remorselessly.
The sand dried out and the heat began to get uncomfortable. Eventually, the boy at her side said softly: "We should get going."
Hermione's eyes moved, and she rejoiced until she realised the sympathetic grey eyes she was staring into belonged to none other than Draco Malfoy.

Hermione jerked awake with a gasp. What was she doing on the floor? When had she fallen asleep? Why had she dreamed about Draco Malfoy, of all the people in the world? And in what alternate universe was Malfoy ever NICE?
She tried to stand and found her body was stiff and aching.. Like an old woman she heaved herself to her feet and looked at the clock. It was past noon. Yawning, she realised she wanted nothing more than to go to bed,and crawled under the covers, curling up like a frightened hedgehog and falling asleep almost instantly.

She knew she was dreaming this time. She was in a massive room, and all over the walls were weapons of all descriptions, axes, swords,guns, some things that looked like throwing knives and others that looked like ninja stars. There was a fine mist over her vision,like she was seeing though thin muslin, and when she reached up to touch her face, she found she was wearing a mask that covered her whole head. craning her neck down as much as she could, she saw she was wearing a quilted white suit,complete with gloves that shone,almost luminous. She felt weight in her right hand, and raised it, expecting to her wand. Instead she saw a thin, glittering silver sabre.
A sword? Why have I got a sword? Why have I dreamed myself into a fencing outfit?
She heard the scrape of a sword being unsheathed behind her and swiftly turned. There was a tall figure, wearing the same outfit as her,but in black. The figure advanced on her,sword lowered, and she deduced from it's walk, and it's breadth of shoulder that it was male. Or a very butch female.
He bowed to her without speaking and she felt herself return the bow. He raised his sword and paused, waiting, and realised she knew exactly what to do.
He was in the attack position, so she must adopt a defence.Swiftly she did so, turning so she was in profile to him and raising her sword above her head,angled down.
From nowhere a whistle sounded and he attacked,his sword whickering through the air-without thinking she parried it, bringing her sword down and underneath,deflecting his away. He attacked again, and once again she parried it, feeling the movements flow smoothly from one to the next as if she had done this every day of her life.They fell into a pattern-he attacked and she defended, the only sounds in the vast room their laboured breath, the whine of steel on steel, and their feet shuffling over the practice mat.
After awhile,Hermione's arm was aching and and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back. She could not keep this up forever, and he was so damn FAST.
Their swords clashed together,sliding against one another until they were hilt to hilt and and standing inches apart. There was a minute pause, then Hermione felt his superiour weight bearing down on her, trying to force her to her knees. Her right arm screamed in agony.and after a moment's indicision she switched her blade to her left hand, and began to return the pressure. She heard him make a sound like a hum of approval, and broke away from him, using the moment to attack him.
He grunted in suprise and deflected it, circling her. She eyed him warily, then lunged at him, determined not to be forced back on the defensive. He saw it coming,and it a bright flash of steel,flicked her blade from her hand.
A beat, and then she felt a sting of pain in her arm, and looked down to see bright blood seeping into her white suit. It was a shallow cut, but the point it made was inescapably clear-she had lost, and was now totally at his mercy.
She felt pressuire at her throat and was forcibly reminded of the way Snape had held his wand . She swallowed and looked up at her opponant, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.
She held her arms out in surrender,inviting him to finish what he had started and ram the glittering razor-sharp blade through her throat.
Instead he stepped back and in a graceful move, flicked her sword up into the air with his. She caught it with her left hand,unsure of what was happening.
"Again." He commanded.

And so they did it again. And again. Over and over for hours they fought,and every time Hermione thought she was at the end of her strength,she found some more. After awhile she felt the balance begin to shift, saw his movements slow minutely, and she ruthlessly took advantage of it. She beat him. Twice. Three times. After the fourth, he threw his sword to the ground and collapsed on the practice mat.
"Enough" he gasped, voice muffled by his mask.
She followed suit, glad of the rest. She took assessment of her body, and found she ached almost everywhere, but especially in her shoulders and back. She tried to raise her hand above shoulder level and found it simply would not go. He heard her hiss of pain and sat up, moving to kneel behind her and massage her aching muscles. She relaxed into his soothing touch, her boddy flinching occasionally as he worked out a particularly stubborn knot of tension,but his grip was firm and sure, and soon she felt a dizzy lethargy sweep over her. Lazily, she reached up to take off her mask, but he stopped her with a hand around her wrist. She noticed his long fingers went all the way round it with some to spare.
"Don't, he will see" Her dream-fencer said.
"Who will? Vol-"
"No. But don't beg trouble." He responded,sounding amused. There was something familiar in his patterns of speech,something that sent shivers down her spine. He didn't say anymore, only resumed his drugging massage,until suddently,the ground beneath them began to shudder, and his hands fell away.
"Time to wake up." He said softly.