A/N: Ha ha... time really flies.. forgive me *shrugs* at least I updated? :D
Draco continuing to act rather odd during class- more than a typical wizard-veela hybrid should be. His hand would fidget toward her, but rather than take her hand he would try to pull it back. She watched as he rubbed his temples and groaned. She placed her hand in his and drew small circles on his knuckles. She felt him stiffen a bit, but continued until he finally relaxed.
The class seemed to drag on. Hermione found herself disregarding the lesson to focus more on the professor. She watched how she talked, how she walked, looked at the colors of her garment, realizing they were always the same color scheme-oranges and browns with pops of green. Her accent gave no information other than her native language not being English-but she even hid that well. Hermione didn't believe her teacher to be evil, but she had been wrong before. She huffed as the teacher sat back down and avoided several papers scattered on the edges of her desk, with grace Hermione wished she possessed.
Soon the class had been dismissed and Hermione left more confused and frustrated then when she arrived.
Blaise had taken Draco to their next class to berate him with questions of yesterday so she walked herself. Afterward, she had wandered the halls. She felt a pull toward the North tower. Where a jumpy divination professor opened the door and smiled. "My dear, you gave me a fright."
Hermione rolled her eyes but gave a small smile, "sorry professor just strolling around for my free period."
The lady with big glasses nodded and opened the door a bit wider, "would you care to come in? I know you're not quite fond of Divinations, but would you mind helping me sort leaves?" Hermione shook her head and entered the oddly decorated classroom.
She picked up the book of leaves and began separating them into small piles. Halfway through, she had noticed the professor looking into a glass jar, grinning and nodding her head, pleased. Hermione turned back to the leaves and put them in their corresponding vile.
Suddenly she felt long fingers grip her shoulders tightly and spin her around. Her former professor inhaled deeply with her mouth agape. Her eyes went foggy and she spoke deep and hoarsely. "Beware the green!" She urged.
"What?" Hermione asked frantically.
The professor's words seem to boom. "Beware; in two full moons; when green begins to dance and fire begins to sings, the wind will blow blue and It cannot be stopped!" Her voice seemed to grow louder and her grip tightened. "The birds will flee and clouds of grey will descend! No longer soft, white, and pure, but talon-ed, dirty, and muddled. The servant will be more powerful than their Lord. All will be left in black and blood. A dark king known to them will assist the brightest witch, but they mustn't get distracted by the things they love and stop the dark rain!"
With those final worlds the professor's hands dropped from her shoulders, her blue eyes no longer clouded by the haze of prophecy. The professor turned her head to the shocked look her former student bore. "My dear, are you alright? You're looking pale."
Hermione subconsciously shook her head as she lifted her hand to her chest. She dropped the vile she held and ran. She ran so fast her legs ached. The same feelings from the summer of sixth year came flooding back to her. She let her feet guide her. She spoke the password to the griffin that spun around and took her to the headmaster's office. She breathed heavily, and swung her head from side to side as she entered the large room.
It was empty.
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She made her way to a large structure, encircled by gold. With a wave of her wand she pulled a silvery swirl from her mind and placed it into the bowl with water. She held her breath as yanked out a quill and parchment from her bag. She dunked her head into the water and listened intently.
Several minutes had passed since she had written everything down and shoved the memory into a vile hung around her neck. Her eyes seemed blank as she sat in a chair with her head down and the piece of parchment clung to her chest. She heard the clicking of heels and didn't bother looking up until the familiar voice called to her. "Miss Granger, are you alright?" Her head slowly rose to look up at the elderly woman.
She let out a small breathe before straightening out. "What was the reason I was in Madam Pomphrey's office a month into the school year my Second year?"
The headmistress raised a brow at the question, but complied. "You had attempted to use poly juice with a hair of a cat. Which turned you partly into one if I recall?"
Hermione nodded her head and handed her the parchment paper. Though the writing was a bit scratchy, the witch was able to read it well. She clicked her tongue and sighed. She waved her wand and soon a silver tray appeared. A kettle poured hot water into two cups and a small plate flew toward her. The greying witch looked up into the wide eyes of her former student and sighed, "Have a biscuit Granger."
Hermione's chin went back and her eyebrows furrowed. She pointed toward the food on the plate and McGonagall nodded. She grabbed one hesitantly and munched on it as she waited for her response. "Miss Granger, when did you receive this prophecy, and by whom?"
She swallowed a lump of the cookie, "about an hour ago I suppose, and from Professor Trelawney".
The headmistress sighed and set the parchment onto the table and mumbled "if Dumbledore were here he'd give her a raise..." She tisked, "I'd like to tell you that it's all rubbish, but after the events these past years I can no longer condone dismissing her words" she finished sternly.
Hermione ate the last of her biscuit before looking around the room frantically. She frowned and started bouncing one of her legs. "Merlin, if this is what Harry felt his whole life, it's no wonder he was a mess!" She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "I didn't mean it that way professor- you know Harry was practically a bro-"
McGonagall quieted her with an amused grin. "I understand. I hardly find that that would insult him." She paused and looked at the parchment again. "I will try to help whatever way I can Miss Granger, but this prophecy is meant for you, so it might be only you who may solve it."
Hermione nodded and accepted the rolled up parchment the headmistress offered to her-putting it directly into her bag. "May the wit of Rowena be with you."
She raised her chin, but nodded grimly as she left.
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Her mind was whirling with things to do, and the order to do them in. She had to head to the library and research. She shook her head, no she had to head to her room and dissect the prophecy. No she had to go back to the professor and ask if she had anything else. No she shouldn't do that she should ask if she knew what she meant by that. No she should floo to... No she had to contact- no she had to tell-she she should go call...
She stopped just outside the portrait.
The olive-skinned woman gave her a concerned look. The hall was dead silent, Hermione herself stood still as a statue with her head down and her shoulders slunk. Irene coughed and Hermione looked up at the painted goddess.
"Nettogroft Sap" she finally spoke. The portrait gave her one last look before opening.
By the time she had walked herself to her room; her legs gave out from under her. She dropped onto the bed and drew her knees to her chest. Another prophecy, another problem to solve. She didn't want this. Sure she'd help Harry on his quests for the greater good, it was her duty. In the end it was him making the final moves.She never doubted herself, but it was much easier devoting your life to a cause that you understood- that wasn't your fight to begin with- a fight that had guidance and friends. Most of her friends were gone now. She loved Ginny and Luna, but it just wasn't the same anymore. She glanced at her reflection in the long mirror across from her and groaned. For the love of merlin she had forgotten that she had also tied herself to a veela!
She wormed farther up on the bed and sighed. She felt old, and sluggish, like the years of battles and war had finally caught up to her. Her bright eyes seemed to dull a bit closer to their normal dirt brown. She felt drained, and her thoughts were scattered She shrunk into herself as she tried figuring what to do, but her mind went blank.
And that's how Draco found her hours later, curled up on her bed with her head in the crook of her arm. He tried catching his breath as he dropped his broom and some of his gear in her doorway. "Hermione?" He called softly as he approached her form.
She made no acknowledgment of him, so he came closer. "Are you alright?" He asked as he placed a knee on her bed. She pulled her head out of her arm and lifted her eyes. He shifted closer and helped sit her up. "What happened? Did someone do something?"
She watched his eyes glittered with concern and the corner of her mouth rose. "No." She spoke softly, "no I just feel...bad?" She questioned, not seeming to find the correct words.
His facial features scrunched as he moved closer "I don't understand, then how come I didn't feel-" he let the last part of his question die out as he shook his head and pulled her into his chest. Normally she would object, but she just didn't have the energy. She let him wrap his arms around her, shielding her from an unknown danger. She drew her arms under his and felt the cold numbers on the back of his jersey. Her cheek was rested on his green sleeve and she realized he had probably just come from practicing outside.
He shifted a bit and removed her satchel and shoes- placing them on the side of the bed. He was able to hold her comfortably now and placed a soft kiss on to her soft brown curls. He ran a hand up and down her arm as she melted into him. She smiled fondly. It had been a while since someone had done this. It felt familiar. She thought back and realized the last time she had been held like this- it was by her parents.
Her eyes started to become glassy, and her breath shaky. She drew closer to him, and hot tears started falling from her eyes at the memories. She hadn't been able to restore them. She had tried right after the war, and the damage had been permanent. She had tried to forget until now. Soon sobs started leaving her quivering lip. They became louder and she gripped onto the back of his jersey. She dug her head into his chest. She cried and cried into the veela, refusing to stop. Everything in the last years, all the pain, the grief, the lost, she never really let herself heal. She was always the shoulder to cry on, she had had Harry and Ron but they weren't here now.
Draco pulled her up more so she was rested in his lap and her head lay in the crook of his neck. He felt the tears fall onto his skin and simply rubbed the back of her head; brushing through her light brown hair. He slowly scooted his back toward the headrest and pulled a blanket over Hermione. He felt an ache in his chest, but more importantly a pit in his stomach. He should've been by her, gotten to her faster.
Her sobs brought him out of his guilt filled thoughts. He murmured soft assurances, and hummed a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a child. He didn't ask her questions, didn't try to silence her, he just wrapped her in his arms and held her.
A/N: Change of pace in the story. Hope you are enjoying it so far!
*P.S. Vote and comment, really does help when I get writer's block, or lack of motivation.