The room watched as Hermione's mind went into a total utter shut down. Her body went still as her face held no notable expression. She stared down at the floor, clutching her hands into her stomach.
The conversation started to pick up again, but she hadn't heard a word of it. Mione's head was overcome with fog and an ominous sense of realization that was slowly creeping from the darkest recesses of her mind. All those countless nights she had fallen victim to her nightmares; all those nights where she had been saved by a blond Slytherin who's silver eyes lifted her out of her slump; all those nights where he had held her close to his chest and eased her anxiety.
"No..." she said to herself. "No, it c-can't be true."
The Draco that kept reappearing in her dreams was surely just a figment of her imagination. Right? Yes, it had to be. Draco wouldn't sneak through her mind without her consent...
...Consent...
The air caught in her lungs as the very word echoed through her ears just as his voice had the last time she had fallen asleep.
" Use your words, Granger...I need you to tell me that this is what you want ."
She had envisioned him so clearly. Draco hovering just inches above her; carefully undoing the buttons of her clothes; feeling the slickness that waited between her legs- Yes, this was her mind piecing together a fantasy all of her own.
Nothing more.
However, the voice in the back of her mind was ready and willing to argue such an extensive claim. Even if it took all night.
You can deny a lot of things, witch. But you cannot ignore your senses.
"What the hell are you on about?" she hissed to herself.
You sit here debating against something that you had personally experienced and are trying to discredit it. You are not stupid, although you're refusing to acknowledge the actuality of the situation. And that in itself is infuriating.
Good God. Only her inner voice would be this philosophically confusing. And at a time like this, no less.
The voice huffed and snarled as though its patience were wearing thin. You felt Draco in your dreams that same way you had felt Ivan. Only difference was that Ivan used fear tactics in order to get to you, whereas Draco chose a more gentle approach. Regardless, each one appeared to you as clear as the people in front of you now. No blurry distortion. No mental exaggerations .
"If that's true, then why does Draco not appear the way he looks now whenever I see him in my dreams?" she exasperated. "Why would I not see him the way I do now when I'm awake?"
You see Draco for more than just his physical appearance. You told him yourself that you do not see him as a monster. His claws, his fangs, and even his eyes are not what you really see when you look at him .
Hermione wasn't sure what pained her the most at the moment. The ache in her finger tips or the agony of being upbraided by her own second half. It all felt like one heap of madness. Its own nightmare in which she could not awaken from.
Her nerves coiled and flared as the anxiety continued to nibble away at her ability to reason. "I...No, I-I don't...I can't b-believe this-
Ivan's claws had scrapped down your arm, you felt the pain, blood, and pressure of each drag of his nails. The moment you woke up, you had discovered that what he had done was real. Now, why would your encounters with Draco in your dreams be any less real than that?
The whites of her eyes grew bigger. "Draco can sense my emotions," she thought wildly. "He can tell whenever I'm feeling stressed, anxious, or afraid...even when I am asleep." Her lips trembled.
Think about it. Ever since you returned to this place, your nightmares have become all but nonexistent. Everytime you close your eyes it's him you see. You are determined to believe that the Draco you are seeing is no more than a figment of your own mind, but deep down you know that you're wrong. Yet you will sit here in this ridiculous meeting and try to convince yourself that you're right. And why? Because you're afraid. Afraid of owning up to the truth.
"Well what will happen if I do, huh?" she hissed.
I don't know . But right now, we have bigger problems to deal with . Hermione's brows pulled together. Look down at your hands .
Mione nonchalantly lowered her eyes to her lap where her hands were practically shaking, having been curled so tightly into fists. She slowly loosened her grip to release her fingers. Her stomach rolled when she caught a horrifying glimpse at how white her knuckles were; but more so at how red and purple the tips of her hands had become.
Her breath seized in her lungs. Each of her nails had lengthened into a sharp, feline looking claw. They reminded her of Draco's. All the changes that her body was expected to be going through were apparently beginning to show.
"Oh no," she gasped. Hermione was on the verge of screaming but thankfully held it back. She was desperate to leave before any more of such changes would start to come through.
The witch raised herself up from her seat and kept her head tilted down towards the carpeted floors. The conversation around her had stopped. She cleared her throat before speaking.
"Professor, Minister," she said. "I'm afraid that I'm...not feeling too well. Would it be alright if I stepped out of this meeting? I don't think I can offer any more information on this discussion."
Minerva gave her former student a genuine look of concern, but nodded her head, nonetheless. She instructed her to see Madame Pomfrey down in the Hospital wing before going back to her common room. Mione hastily agreed and tucked her hands into her robes.
The second she turned to leave, both Harry and Draco shot to their feet. Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at either one of them- Malfoy especially. Without another word, the witch was out the door and carried down to the main platform of the stairwell.
Two heavy pairs of footsteps followed her in a panic.
"Mione!" Harry's voice echoed off the stone corridors.
"Granger, stop!" Draco's deeper voice caused a spark of electricity to shoot up her spine.
The air stabbed her lungs as she continued to push herself forward. There was hardly anyone else around. Which made her realize just how late in the day it really was. The sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, so everyone else must have been in the Great Hall for dinner.
"Perfect," she thought. She planned on heading back to her room where she could figure out a way to hide her new growing claws.
Hermione made it as far as the end of the hallway before she felt two strong hands pull her back. The witch let out a frustrated groan and practically kicked the air in order to work her way free.
"Hermione," Draco growled into her hair. "Stop!"
"Ugh! Let me go," she huffed.
"Not until you calm down," he argued with an authoritative tone.
Draco's tone of command was only driving her need to escape to become more frantic. Her heart slammed violently against her ribcage; she fervently shook herself in his arms.
"Let me go!" She shouted angrily.
She felt his hold on her tighten, making it truly useless to break free. After her whole mental re-evaluation with the voice in her head, Hermione hadn't seen just how exhausted her body really was.
A few seconds passed before her figure had gone limp in Draco's arms. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes barely capable of staying open. Malfoy's firm grasp kept her stable on her feet while the upper part of her body rested against his chest.
As she struggled to catch her breath, Draco pulled them out of the hallway and into a hidden alcove. "You have no idea how lucky you are that I don't have the energy to fight you right now," she breathed.
A gruesome snarl tore from the Slytherin's chest. Mione just rolled her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said roughly. Part of her was somewhat glad that neither of them could see the other's face. Hermione'a featured scrunched in disdain.
"Don't," she warned.
"I know I should have told you about the dream tracing," he muttered hoarsely.
"Draco. I can't do this right now." Hermione sighed, "yes, I am utterly shaken and I'm honestly embarrassed as all hell. But, please...Please, you need to let me go."
She felt his arms loosen a little, but it still wasn't enough for her to escape.
Malfoy leaned down to bury his face in the crook of her neck. "Don't shield me out," he told her desperately. Her brows furrowed in confusion, uncertain of what he could possibly mean. "I can't feel you."
She angled her head as best as she could to catch a glimpse of him. Her brown orbs bored into him. Draco's face contorted with simmering irritation. Yet his eyes held a hidden look of helplessness that had the muscles around her heart swelling.
"What do you mean?"
The vampire shook his head and glowered. "Back in McGonagall's office, I had a pretty good idea as to what you were feeling based on the look on your face. But, I couldn't actually feel any of your emotions," he heaved. A strangled growl vibrated in his throat. "It was just like what happened this morning when I couldn't find you. Had you not been sitting right to me, I would have lost my mind all over again."
Hermione shifted against his arms. Thankfully, this time, Malfoy allowed her to move more freely. He kept his hands locked at her sides, but the brunette was able to finally meet him face to face.
Mione's breath became caught in her lungs when she saw just how distraught Draco was. Apart from his already red irises, the whites of his eyes had grown pinkish from the threat of losing tears. She bit the inside of her cheek as her tightly wound expression began to soften.
"You have every right to be angry with me," he said weakly. "But I just couldn't stand how you were suffering, even in your sleep. So, I...I reached out to your mind and was able to enter your subconscious. You were in the middle of a nightmare; you were on the floor of the drawing room inside the Manor. I don't even know if you knew I was there- you weren't moving."
It didn't take a lot of effort for Hermione to remember that one nightmare-turned-dream. It was the first time Draco had ever made an appearance in her subconscious.
"Oh, God. But I feel so damn stupid. All this time I ignored the truth when it was right in front of me." She shook her head and cursed under her breath. "I should have known that it was real. Ever since Ivan first attacked me, and I saw the marks on my arm, I should have known that you would have shared the same ability."
Draco shook his head affirmingly. "You couldn't have known that," he argued.
Hermione took her lower lip between her teeth and shrugged her shoulders. She turned her head down still finding it difficult to look at him for longer than a few seconds at a time.
"You seriously can't feel my emotions?" she asked him, her tone faintly edged with skepticism. He gently shook his head. "Well...Maybe that's for the best then, don't you think?"
He snarled defiantly. "No," he barked. "I don't."
His eyes fixated on her quivering bottom lip as soon as she lifted her head back up. The air between them had thickened and swirled with vigorous heat. Neither of them moved an inch, fearing that they'd instantly self-combust. Then again, neither one of them would honestly care. The way life had been playing its cruel game with them, the two felt like two helpless pawns.
"You really want to know what I'm feeling?" Her voice dared him to rethink his plea. But the man was unyielding. The witch's eyes crackled with tears, her lips pressed together until a sad cry slipped out. "I feel violated because of what Ivan did to me. I feel ridiculous for living in such a deep pit of denial for weeks...And I feel utterly mortified at myself for what I did."
This time it was Draco who stared down at her with an open look of confusion. His eyebrows drew together. " 'What you did' ? What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on, Malfoy," she huffed indignantly. She heard him hiss at the use of his surname in place of his first. Even she would agree that using his last name felt strange considering all they've gone through.
"Hermione." His voice grew low, making her flinch. "What are you talking about?"
She resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, fearing that he'd see the terrifying state of her nails by keeping them hidden in her pockets. Her face flushed a deep shade of red.
"I made myself believe that it wasn't real- that it was all in my head," she whimpered. "I kissed you...and then...and then I...Oh my God."
. . .
His features gradually started to soften as he watched the witch in front of him crumble into a heap of stressed out nerves. Hermione hadn't spared him a single glance since she left McGonagall's office. Both he and Harry briskly excused themselves from the meeting in order to catch up with her.
Her wild brown hair billowed behind her as her tiny legs took her down the corridor. It was times like these which he appreciated his vampiric ability to trace. Draco wasted no time wrapping his hands around her center and pulling her against him.
About halfway through that joke of a meeting, Draco had felt a kind of detachment in his chest. As soon as he had admitted to having the ability to dream trace, he watched Hermione's expression shift several times over. And with each dreadful second that passed, he felt her emotions fading more and more inside of him. It took nearly every ounce of his self-restraint to not jump from his seat and trace the two of them back to his rooms.
His creature thrashed and snarled in vexation over losing the connection to his little witch. Need! Need to feel her! Can't feel her anymore! Something's wrong- we need to fix it! Need to have her close again!
Draco's heart seized in his chest when she had asked to be excused from the rest of the meeting. And when he'd heard that she wasn't feeling well, Malfoy could only guess that it was just an excuse to get away from him.
But hearing her words echo through his head had him second guessing his assumptions. The realization dawned on him. She was talking about the last dream they had spent together. Was the idea of them being together, in such an intimate manner, so repulsive to her? Was that why she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes?
"I shouldn't have pushed you," she hissed sharply.
Wait! What?
Suddenly, the Slytherin had discovered the beautiful light at the end of the tunnel he'd found himself in. Not only was he beginning to sense her emotions again, but Draco was entirely certain that what he was feeling from her was anything other than complete disgust. Okay, sensing her guilt wasn't necessarily making him feel good- but it was a hell of a lot better than the latter.
"Pushed me?" Draco snapped himself back to the present issue at hand. He glared down at Hermione through hooded eyes. "Hermione, what the hell are you talking about?"
Hermione blinked back the tears in her eyes. "You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?"
The overwhelming sense of being rejected had left him which allowed for a boyish smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. Draco tilted his head and lifted his hand up to brush the stray curls of her hair back from her face.
"I'm afraid so, love," he said calmly. "I honestly don't understand what you mean."
His creature purred with approval when Mione's cheeks blushed once more. She rolled her lip between her teeth and leaned her head back to stare up at the ceiling. Draco let out a gruff noise before sinking his hand into her mass of hair, forcing her to look at him. He'd had enough of her avoidance to last him a lifetime.
"I thought you would have been revolted by what happened if you knew that it was practically real- that it was really me who was with you," he offered.
"What?" Hermione's face scrunched in bewilderment. "No, Draco, I'm not angry about who I was with...I'm mad about how it happened!" She took a moment to clear her mind and to gather her words wisely. "What's going on between us is so new that I didn't want to rush into anything so intimate like that. Here I thought I was just having- what you would call- a fantasy. But it turned out to be real. God, I feel as if I forced you into such an act, without giving you any choice in the matter."
Draco arched a brow and refrained from smirking. Now was not the time for a smug comment and his haughty behavior. "Surely you recall that it was I who asked for your consent when this happened, yeah?"
Her face flushed again. She spoke through gritted teeth. "Yes. But what I didn't realize was that it should have been me asking for your consent. Instead I just pushed you into a horrible, awkward situation- Mmm !"
Draco stole what meaningless words Hermione had left by capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. He better secured his arm around her waist and tightened his hold on her unstable curls. With each sweep of his tongue, Mione moaned and melted further into his vise-like grip. His movements were harsh and demanding, almost painful. This was like no other kiss they had shared before.
It felt punishing. But neither one of them dared to break the trance.
Horrible? Horrible?! This little witch is walking on thin ice as it is. Not only does she believe that she had forced us into submission but now she is convinced that we thought it was a horrible experience. The creature bared his fangs and snarled venomously.
If you do not rectify this misunderstanding, then I will.
Draco's eyes shot open, revealing two glowing red embers. He forcefully tugged Hermione's head back by the roots of her hair. Her lips were swollen and puffy- beautiful . Her eyes had glazed over in a sheen of pure approbation.
Both of their chests were heaving from the lack of oxygen their lungs had failed to inhale. Hermione's heart was beating frantically within her ribcage that it echoed like an old tribal drum. He could decipher whether it was due to fear or anticipation.
Draco wasn't entirely sure what terrifying version of himself Hermione was seeing, but regardless of what beastly features were coming out to play, he was not about to surrender his full control.
He breathed in her glorious scent and spoke through the crazed haze. "You will listen to me very carefully, yes?" She did what she could to nod her head. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and across her bottom lip. "You did not push, force, or coerce me into doing anything that I did not want to do. And as per the experience itself..." He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "I would do it again in a heartbeat."
Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes grew hooded. She breathed his name like the sweetest music he'd ever heard. "Draco..."
"Just say the words and I'll drop to my knees," he growled in promise. Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose along the side of her cheek, eliciting a desperate moan from the back of her throat. He nipped at the soft spot just below her ear. "Don't think that I'd easily pass up an opportunity to taste you again."
Hermione gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. Draco smiled in triumph as her familiar warmth filled the space in his chest again. Finally, her emotions were swirling inside of him, and the Slytherin felt completely balanced once more.
Her brows furrowed. "You know I'm still mad at you for not telling me about this ability," she muttered.
Draco chuckled and rested his chin on top of her head. "Well then, is there anything I could do to possibly atone for such a dissatisfying encounter?"
Mione sorted, burying her face deeper into his chest as her cheeks blushed a bright pink hue. Malfoy happily took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. His creature was practically humming.
"Thank you, by the way," he said.
Hermione leaned her head back to glance at him. "For what?"
"For speaking up in my place back in McGonagall's office." He arched a skeptical brow and scowled at the memory of Kingsley's minor confession. "I never liked the idea of the Ministry knowing about my situation."
Anger flickered over her brown eyes. "I have nothing against Kingsley, really, but my God," she hissed. "If that bloody institution thinks that they're going to use you from some sick potential gain, then they have another thing coming to them."
This streak of protectiveness was truly starting to become an addiction of his. It made him want to physically hold onto her forever and never let her out of his sight.
Draco stepped out of the alcove with Hermione still in his arms. Dinner was soon coming to an end and he wanted to beat the swarm of students that would soon be flooding through the hallways. He glanced down at the Gryffindor who seemed lost in her own thoughts.
"Hermione, we seriously need to talk about what happened earlier," he commented.
The witch kept her eyes locked on the ground in front of them. "I thought we did and we settled everything," she said calmly.
He bit back a smile. "No. Not that. I'm talking about that blood being forced down your throat."
Mione merely shrugged her shoulders and shook her head in defeat. "Honestly, there isn't much to talk about. I told you what happened and aside from the blood he didn't really do anything else, thankfully."
"You said his name was Ivan?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Ivan Zagrath of the Damascus line- whatever the hell that means."
He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Damascus line? Could that mean some kind of a bloodline connection?"
"Perhaps it belongs to his master," Hermione suggested grimly. "'Damascus' could very well be the surname of the original vampire who turned him...Which would essentially mean that you are part of the Damascus line now as well, Draco."
A horrible shiver raced up his spine. The thought of belonging to any line other than his own family was not appealing to him in the least. Not that his relationship with his own blood-relatives was anything to boast about at the moment. Malfoy was just not too keen on the idea of belonging to yet another potential psychopath that sought to control him.
"Look, um...It's been a really long day for both of us," she said. "Why don't we just call it an early night and catch up on all of this later?"
She's looking to leave us already?
"She's right," Draco told himself. He tried to appease the creature's growing distress. "It's been a long day. She's emotionally drained and needs more rest."
His creature huffed but ultimately agreed to let their little witch go...for now.
The two continued their walk down the various hallways before finally approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady. Draco kept his hand firmly resting on the small of Hermione's back the entire time of their journey back to her common room.
"Are you sure that you don't want to at least see Pomfrey and have her check on you," he asked nervously.
Hermione gave him a reassuring smile and nodded her head. "I'm sure, Draco. I don't think that she could really help in this situation."
Malfoy grimaced. Seeing as how she could become so protective in a split second, he was not too thrilled about how quickly she was ready to cave in. He was reluctant to even be letting her go, but he promised that he would not push her.
As soon as the portrait opened, he felt his stomach drop and his nerves tense up. Her warmth left his side. Already his mood was slipping into a darker place.
He watched the back of her scurry off until she stopped mid-way and turned around. He searched her blank face for some kind of indication of what was wrong, but all he found was a small smile beginning to form. Without a word, she took off rushing back towards him. She lifted herself up on her tippy toes and placed a swift kiss on the Slytherin's lips.
Dozens of gasps followed by humming whispers filled the air. Ah, yes. Portraits love all the gossip they could get their painted hands on.
The noise sent both of them apart. Hermione's cheeks were flushed with an adorable shade of pink as Draco stared down at her with wide eyes.
"You really are something beyond words, Ms. Granger," he drawled happily.
Mione's smile deepend. "We will meet up again soon," she said while still hiding her hands in her robes. "Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy ."
. . .
Indeed, Hermione and Draco did meet up again soon. However, soon didn't actually occur until two days later and under difficult circumstances.
The sun was actually shining for the first time in the last several days. Hermione stole the opportunity to go outside and sit down by the Black Lake during her free period. She'd even brought her books with her as a means of catching up on her missed school work. The moment the light from the sun touched her skin, it felt different. Aside from feeling the usual warmth, there was an unfamiliar buzzing sensation that rippled across her body.
No doubt that this was just another way her body was adapting to her new changes. It was a grim thought, but a real one to be contemplated, nonetheless. At some given point in time, she would no longer be able to tolerate sunlight.
She had blinked back her tears and struggled to focus on her work. But as her book and parchment lay out on her lap in front of her, all she could think about was her last encounter with the blond haired Slytherin and the events that followed.
After Hermione had left Draco standing outside the Gryffindor common room, she had hastily gone up to the girl's dormitory before getting caught up in the rush of her friends. She wasn't avoiding them- not by any means- although, much like Malfoy, she wasn't fully prepared to have a lengthy conversation about what was really going on.
She stalked over to her side of the room and fell back into her bed. The soft silk of Draco's shirt caressed her skin in the most inviting way. Hermione allowed herself a good deep breath in before holding her hands out in front of her face.
Aren't they beautiful?
Mione snorted disgruntledly. The initial reaction she had from seeing her claws which left her traumatized had thankfully passed. Now the witch was feeling something more along the lines of fury and wrath. Wrathful towards the psychotic vampire who's disillusions were wrecking unimaginable havoc on her life.
It was evident that the physical changes of her transformation were finally coming through. What was she to do now? The thought of telling literally anyone made her stomach swirl with nausea. Harry and Ginny would positively lose their minds. McGonagall would no doubt alert the Ministry and she'd be under the same lock and key as Draco. And Draco? Good Lord, the man would fall apart on the spot and probably end up leveling half the castle.
What was she to do? Merlin, even her emotions were on the table for him to see whenever he felt like it.
Small tears started to prickle the corners of her eyes. Never in all her years at this school had Hermione ever felt so helplessly trapped. Her vision grew distinguishably blurry, and from the way the light of the lit fireplace hit the tips of her nails, it had her staring at her hands a bit differently.
Beautiful? The white tipped claws almost sparked diaphanously as if a million tiny stars were hidden in the sharpened nail beds.
"I can't believe how similar they look to his," she commented out loud. Each finger was red and slightly sore from the teeth-gritting pressure of her new nails coming in.
"What looks similar?" a soft voice called from the doorway.
Hermione curled her claws into her palms and snapped her head around to find Ginny glancing at her suspiciously. She sat up and turned towards the redhead.
"Hey, Gin."
"Mione." Ginny strolled into the room and leaned against one of the posts of the bed. Her lips parted, readying to fire a dozen questions- but only one came to mind when the youngest Weasley noticed Hermione's strange attire. "Whose shirt is that?"
The brunette nibbled on her lip but chose her battles wisely. If it meant staying clear of the bigger issue at hand, she would confess to her time spent with Draco.
"It's Draco's," she answered.
Ginny's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Hermione...did you...did you sleep with Draco Malfoy?"
And what the hell business is it of hers if we did?! Honestly find new goodman friends who aren't going to judge every single thing that you choose to do!
Hermione's mouth fell open to deny the leading accusation. However she found herself truly unsure as to how to answer her friend's question. Having just discovered that her dreams of Draco weren't entirely fabricated from her own mind, the line between reality and fantasy had become inexplicably blurred.
She arched her brow. "I don't think so," she replied vaguely.
Ginny's eyes narrowed into thin slits while she closely evaluated her friend. "Okay. But clearly something went on because why in Merlin's name are you wearing the guy's shirt?"
"Gin, it's complicated, alright?" Hermione sighed.
"Complicated enough to where you can't tell me?" she asked incredulously.
Mione shook her head and hissed. "Complicated enough to where I'm not telling anyone ."
She watched as Ginny's face turned as red as her hair. She balled her hands into fists and twisted her mouth into a tight scowl.
"Do not push me away, Hermione Granger!" her friend shouted.
" Don't shield me out ." Draco's words resurfaced from the back of her mind, making her inwardly flinch.
Her brows drew together, an awful feeling of shame punched her in the stomach. She didn't want to shut out the world, but what alternative did she have? Tell everyone that her body was basically deteriorating, and come Halloween she'd be nothing but a hollow shell of her former self? No one would fully understand what she was going through. Sadly, not even Draco.
Ginny, much like her new Slytherin companion, was relentless in their search for information. It was amazing how the two of them never hit off considering that neither one of them ever took 'no' for an answer. The Malfoy-Weasley feud was a crock of nonsense as far as Hermione was concerned. Arthur had tried explaining why their families never quite saw eye-to-eye, but a lot of the information didn't make much sense to her. It reached a point where she forced herself to give up on the issue and ignore the ordeal entirely.
Better still, Ginny and Draco would have made decent friends. Their fiery, persistent natures were uncannily similar. But that could prove to be far more dangerous than beneficial.
"Seriously, Mione. Don't push me away!" Ginny urged. "I let you get away with it during the summer, but not anymore."
Hermione's guilt sizzled away in exchange for anger which coiled through her bloodstream. She didn't care who was demanding information out of her, Mione was not one to be bossed around. Or pushed into speaking.
She slowly lifted herself up from the mattress, her fingers clutched into her sides. She swallowed the disturbing feeling of something unpleasantly slithering through her insides. Ginny's forceful behavior was unknowingly provoking the creature that growled in the back of her head.
Tell her to back down, or I will make sure that she is silenced permanently.
"G-Ginny..." The air was sucked from her lungs. "You need to let this g-go, okay? I need you to just t-trust me when I say that everything is fine-
"But everything is not fine!" her friend challenged her. The emotional distress in Ginny's voice was too much for her to bear on top of feeling like the muscles of her stomach were slowly tearing apart. "I don't understand, Mione, why can't you tell me the truth?"
Hermione's eyes snapped open. She slowly lifted her head up from the floor to glare at Ginny who firmly stood her ground. Little did the redhead know that something venomous was lurking beneath the surface of her best friend. But the youngest of the Weasley family was about to witness, first-hand, of the problem that plagued Hermione's life.
The brunette let out a frustrated growl and clenched her jaw. Her voice became distorted. " Because there's nothing that can be done to change it!! " Her eyes glowed like two golden lanterns in the night.
Ginny's face fell into a look of complete shock. Her lips trembled in fear as her hands shot up to cover her nose and mouth. "Your eyes!"
Yes, for the first time Hermione could actually feel her own eyes glowing. She felt the fires of her anger fuming behind her brown orbs. "My eyes are the least of my concerns right now," Mione hissed back.
Hermione rubbed a hand over her tired face. After her encounter with Ginny, neither witch had spoken to the other since. Unfortunately, it may have just as well been for the best. Ginny was too spooked to ask any questions and Hermione was in no mood to answer them. But due to their little row, Mione had now entered a semi-state of avoidance towards certain people.
Ginny, for one. Then there was Harry and Ron- Harry especially- who she couldn't bring herself to face, fearing the risk of exposing her situation. And then there was Draco.
Somehow, by some way of a miracle, she had managed to successfully dodge Malfoy before, during, and after classes. She missed going to the library but she knew that Draco would easily be able to find her and confront her there. He'd find a way to successfully stick to the shadows while wearing his cloak if he were within the castle walls. But he'd have no such luck if she were to hide from him outside; surrounded by nothing but the sun.
She continued to stare down her blank parchment, contemplating whether or not she should be working on homework or writing out personal letters instead. Maybe she'd have better success at explaining her situation if she wrote it down, rather than trying to verbally say it, Mione thought. Then again, no one word came to mind whenever she'd go to pick up her quill.
"Oi, Granger! "
Hermione rolled her eyes up towards the sky and cursed under her breath. "Oh, Merlin, why?"
She didn't have to turn her head to find out who was calling her name. Blaise Zabini bravely ventured up to her until he stood no further than a foot away. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he glowered down at the witch who's been avoiding his best mate. Unlike before, Hermione made no silly attempt to hide her hands. She had successfully casted a glamor charm over herself to hide her sickly looking features- especially her claws- for the time being.
"What is it, Zabini?"
"Tell me why you're avoiding Malfoy," he demanded.
Mione scoffed at his feeble attempt to intimidate her into answering his question.
"I'm not avoiding Draco," she clarified. "I'm avoiding everyone. No one from my school house knows that I come out here to be alone, and Draco physically can't be out here because of the sun."
Blaise narrowed his eyes, silently applauding the Gryffindor's cleverness to avoid unwanted attention. But it still didn't answer his question. "Why are you avoiding everyone then?"
She set her books aside and perched herself forward on her elbows. She kept her gaze locked on the water. The way the light from the sun reflected off the rippling waves of the lake calmed her nerves. The place exuded life in every sense of the word. The grass was green, the trees were vibrant and shifting their colors, and the birds were happily chirping in the distance. It was the complete opposite from the haven that appeared in her mind.
It made it feel saddened, angered, and nauseous simultaneously.
"Please don't take any offense to what I am about to say, alright? I haven't spoken to anyone for the past few days, not even my friends. So, what the hell makes you think I'm going to open up to you when I know you're going to rush straight back to Draco and tell him everything?" she asked pointedly.
Zabini arched his brow and repressed a smirk. Goddamn, if he knew this side of Hermione Granger existed years ago, he would have made it a point to try and get to know the witch.
"Why talk to me? Well, for starters..." Blaise lowered himself down to sit beside her on the grass. "I came here by my own accord. Draco did not send me out here for information. Hell, his arse is probably still stuck in McGonagall's office as we speak."
This bit of news, of course, grabbed her attention immediately. Hermione snapped her head to face the dark-toned Slytherin.
"What? Why is he meeting with McGonagall? Is Kingsley there as well? What the bloody hell could they possibly have to talk to him about now?" her heart slammed in her chest, making her stammer out several more questions. Blaise did all that he could to keep from busting out laughing.
He held up his hand and signaled for her to stop. "You two seriously need to shag the absolute life out of each other before one of you self-combusts," he muttered.
Hermione glared daggers into the guy sitting next her. "You are such a git," she hissed.
Unfazed by her remark, Blaise shrugged off her sinister glare and rolled his shoulders back. "Eh, I've been called worse," he murmured. "If you're so concerned about him, then why don't you stop this avoiding shit, and go talk to him? Trust me, Granger, Draco has become a major pain in my arse ever since you first started this."
She took in a deep breath before slowly releasing it from her lungs. "So, he has no idea that you're here." He shook his head.
"Look, what if I promised not to tell anyone about what's really going on with you?" he said.
This time it was she who wore the skeptical expression on her face. "Oh really? Zabini, you can't even keep Draco's secrets to yourself-
"Parkinson practically threatened to hex my balls off if I didn't tell her about what happened to Draco," he defended. "Honestly, you try warding off someone as crazy as Pansy."
Hermione shot him the most unamused look she could muster. "You do know that Ginny Weasely is my best friend, right? Well, at least she used to be. But, either way, I hardly see the difference between the two."
Blaise sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Alright. Fair enough. Merlin save us, if those two ever think to become friends," he joked.
Mione snorted, "The world would end as we know it."
"Ganger, you and I have never openly spoken to each other like this. And, like I have mentioned before, no one knows that I'm out here with you. That being said, if you were to tell me what has been causing you to distance yourself, then I can personally guarantee you that no one would think to come to me and ask about it," Blaise persuaded.
She raised her brows. Damn. As much as she hated to admit it. The guy made a good point. Not even Draco would think to go to Blaise and ask about her whereabouts. She nibbled the inside of her cheek and sighed.
"Don't make me regret talking to you, Zabini," Mione said threateningly. "Pansy's a good talker, but I actually carry through on my threats to people. You tell anyone about my business and I swear on the lives of my parents that I will feed you to the three-headed dog that lives in the castle."
Zabini's eyes grew to the size of saucers. He promised his silence and gestured for her to start. Instead of speaking, Hermione turned towards her bag and pulled out the book she'd been keeping from Draco's sight.
She flipped to the appropriate page and hesitantly handed over the book to him. A line formed between his brows as his eyes began scanning the page.
"It's called 'The Awakening'," she told him.
His eyes scanned the first several small paragraphs in the section. The corners of his mouth curled upward into a doubtful smile. "Granger, you can't possibly think that you're-
Hermione raised up her hand and whispered the spell to undo the glamor charm she had set in place. The Slytherin watched in horror as the charmed disguise had faded away to reveal the most lethal claws he had ever seen...along with a few new disturbing features.