A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

55. What I Need To Do

"Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel so alive that you'd follow them straight into hell, just to keep getting your fix."

- Karen Marie Moning

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She was not sure how it happened. One second her body had gone rigid, numb, frozen, unable to process anything else other than Ron – her Ron – was in danger. And the next her hand was diving for her wand, she was swirling around to Nott, was ready to make him hurt, when he captured her wrist and bent it painfully backwards so that she shrieked. But logic was the last thing on her mind, all she knew was that her other hand had yet to be hurt, and she had swung it back and smashed it into his jaw before she could make sense of what she was doing.

Hermione then took advantage of his momentary surprise and threw herself at him; punching and clawing at any part of flesh she could reach, screaming words that were imperceptible even to her. And then so quickly and suddenly that later she would wonder if it had happened at all if it weren't for the throbbing ache it left in her bones, she was thrown backwards with a flash of purple, landing on her back. It hurt, but not enough to stop her, and in an instant she was back on her feet and trying to mindlessly get back at him.

Hands grabbed her, pulled her back, shouted threats, except she was not listening. After she had thrown off the first set of hands, more grabbed her until she vaguely could count about three sets, and she knew subconsciously that she would be going nowhere now. 

"WHERE IS HE?" she screamed when physical force was no longer an option.

Nott was looking at her darkly and full of so much loathing that had she any sense at all she may have been scared. Slowly, he used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood on his cheek. Then he strolled towards to her, casually as though he were about to have a civil conversation, and she understood what was going to happen a second before it did. In that second she did not shield away but looked him directly in the eye until the force of his slap had her head snapping to the side. He waited patiently, looking almost bored, for her to meet his eye again, and only then did he speak.

"Weasley is fine. Bruised, maybe. Bleeding, a little. But on the whole he's fine," he said detachedly, speaking to her like she was a misbehaving student. "He was doing his little Auror business, getting a bit too close to our hideout that we had to do something. He was wanted dead by everyone there, but only I seemed to realise his value." He paused, perhaps waiting to see if she would have another outburst, but Hermione remained silent. "You can have him back by tonight. Meet us at the park I found you that first time by midnight with what I want. There, we'll make the trade, and no harm has to come to either of you."

It took a moment for her to reply, and when she did her tone was empty, sounding strange to even her own ears. "You still haven't told me what you want." 

Nott bent down so his eyes were level with hers, a ghost of some kind of smile on his lips. "But you know what I want. You've known ever since you saw me." She did not answer, stared mutely at him. He smirked. "Come on. Hermione Granger, girl with all the answers. You know this. What do I want?"

She felt the blood that was steadily trailing from her mouth, cool against the warm night air. She could feel the three pairs of hands on her, holding her firmly, could feel the gazes of the others on her, watching, waiting. But most of all she could feel Nott's patient stare, imploring, knowing she will answer him because answers was what she was best at. She lifted her eyes from his face to the warm glow of the window ahead, thought of the oblivious people inside, and then her gaze swept back to Nott's.