VII

VII

Severus handed Hermione a bowl filled with blood as he joined her on the long sofa in his sitting room. He pulled her against his cold chest, watching with vague interest as she sipped at her supper. "Are you happy, Hermione?"

She turned her head towards the sound of his voice. Her eyes blazed the color of roasted honey as she took in the shape of his face: the way his eyes were a deep onyx ringed with gold, the harsh curve of his usually scowling mouth, the jagged turn of his nose. His cold skin glittered in the firelight. "Yes," she said softly, pictures of his face drowning out the bloodlust pounding through her thoughts. "Yes, I am happy. But I feel as if I'm being split it two. I don't want to leave you, and, quite honestly, I'm afraid to. But I miss my friends, Harry and Ron. Will I be okay when I go back, Severus?"

His eyes were solemn as he thought. "If your thirst can be managed and you keep your temper in control and your head about you. I promise I will do what I can, my love. You must manage for just a little while longer, to the end of term, and then we shall go far from here."

"What!" she screamed, her voice the pitch of nails on a chalkboard. The bowl of blood went flying across the room and smashed against the stone wall, splashing onto the floor. She darted away from Severus, her movement so fast it was a blur, and turned to face him with her teeth bared and a snarl in her throat. "I'm not leaving Hogwarts," she growled.

The calm look in his face was annoyingly serine as he watched her fight to control her raging anger. Her eyes flashed ruby and her fingers clenched at her sides. A thousand thoughts whispered through her brain, ways to get past his desire to leave, to stay where she had always felt at home.

"None of them will work, Hermione," he said calmly, watching the play over her face as if he could read her mind. Severus stood up and walked slowly to her, his actions measured and his hands held out, palm out. "I do not wish to, but I will make you follow if I must. Always remember that."

Hermione relaxed her stance, straightening out of her crouch with her eyes still flaming as he approached. "How?" she asked, her voice as wary as her glare. "How can you make me?"

There was a grim note to his voice when he spoke. "Magic, my love. You see, my kind came first...born into this world after Man. Whatever magic there is in this world came from my kind, from the mothers and fathers of my people. Passed on through a failed bite or from more... unconventional methods of conception. But it was my kind that brought magic to the world. It was given to us to create, to change, to manipulate reality as we saw fit. No witch or wizard would ever have existed were it not for others like me."

She watched him, feeling the waves of unease and doubt roll off him. Anger still pounded through her body, but it was twined now with the pain darkening his eyes. Her back was still pressed against the stone wall, but her arms reached out toward him. He took her hand and pressed it to his pale cheek, missing the strong thump of her pulse in her wrist.

"You wouldn't make me go, would you, Severus," she whispered, stroking her fingertips against his icy cheek. Her eyes began to fade from ruby to their normal roasted honey color. There was still worry in her face as she waited for his reply.

He looked at her for a long moment that seemed to stretch out into eternity. A soft smile twitched the corners of his lips upward. "No," he murmured. "I doubt even I, with all the magic I possess, could make you do something you didn't want to do."

"Catch, Ron," Harry called, tossing a balled-up piece of parchment at his red-haired friend. They were in the courtyard now, sitting cross-legged on the flagged stones, facing each other in a small circle. Ron glanced up in enough time to see the ball coming and reach up to catch it. He bounced the parchment between his palms before passing it on to Cedric.

"I'd love to go see Hermione," Cedric mumbled, swatting the paper back to Harry, who began tossing it over his head. Cedric's pale blue eyes were bloodshot, dark circles beneath them, and his face was pale and drawn. "I wish I knew she was okay."

"When was the last time you slept, Cedric?" Harry asked quietly, taking in his new friend's face. A spasm of pain tore through him as he felt compassion for Cedric's suffering. It was one thing to love Hermione as a sister and be tortured by her absence, as he and Ron were. But it must be very different for Cedric, loving her the way he did. It was physically painful for Harry to watch, more so when he thought of what would happen if Hermione didn't return the affection. Poor Cedric, he thought, wondering what would be left of the older boy if Hermione broke his heart.

"I don't remember," Cedric replied, running his hand over his face. Clammy, cold sweat beaded on his pale skin and his hands shook. Everything looked bleak and dull as he waited to hear about Hermione. It was like a knife stuck in his heart and each moment without knowing was like a violent twist of the blade. "It must have been a while, I guess. What day is it?"

"Saturday," Ron grumbled, put out that he was being overlooked in the conversation. He watched Luna come through the castle doors with a few other fifth year Ravenclaws. He smiled at her when she waved him over, pointing to Cedric and shrugging his shoulders.

"Thursday night then. But I'm not so tired right now," Cedric replied, even though he was fighting to keep his eyes open. "Besides, I'm not going back to my room until I've seen Hermione."

Harry stood up at that, brushing dirt off his pants and reaching out a hand to his friend. "C'mon then, Ced," he said quietly. "You can crash in our room for now. Ron can go with Luna, and I'll keep everyone off your back. Hermione'll never have you if you look like death warmed over."

Cedric smiled grimly, knowing that she would never be that shallow. No, she could look through the outside and see straight through to their hearts. Would she like was she saw in him? Or would she file him away as just another distraction from her shining academic career? He stood with Harry's help, and followed the younger boy back up to Gryffindor tower.

"You have yet to tell me why Mr. Diggory is in my common room," said Professor McGonagall with a grimace.

"Sibyll has seen something... Now, don't look at me like that, Minerva. It was a genuine vision, although she was insistent that it was not completely clear. I felt it important to cover all of my bases, to protect Cedric as much as possible," Dumbledore said plainly, his voice nearly devoid of emotion. "She saw Cedric attempting to jump off the Astronomy tower after hearing about Miss Granger's disappearance. It was very helpful that Harry found him and took what charge he could."

McGonagall pursed her lips, trying to shove the image of a dead Cedric Diggory from her mind. "Does Sibyll know why her vision was unclear?"

"Her best guess is that Cedric himself was unsure what he would do if Hermione rejected him. There is little that is certain about the future, you and I both know that. But Sibyll was quite clear that something would happen to Cedric if anything happened to Hermione." The headmaster stared out the window as he pondered what he had allowed to happen. "Perhaps it was Harry that made the difference. I am not sure. I feel as if I do not know anything anymore."

"You are a good man, Albus," she replied. "You have always done what you could to help everyone. As you have said, there is very little that is certain about anyone's future. Severus had been doing so well for so long, how could you have known? You mustn't blame yourself for this, Albus. We will do what we must to protect the students that remain in this school." McGonagall placed her hand gently on his shoulder as she joined him at the window. "They will leave Hogwarts at the end of the term, and then we will have one less worry on our hands."

"But it will be replaced by Mr. Diggory's well-being. You know as I do that he will follow them," he replied with a heavy sigh. "And if he gets too close, Severus will kill him to protect Hermione. I have no doubt that Cedric would let him, if that was what she wanted."

"Then we must do what we can to make sure Hermione does not want that," she replied, leading the headmaster back to his favorite chair. She sat on the footstool and looked up into his pain filled eyes. "When will Miss Granger be able to withstand our presence?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. "No earlier than tomorrow night, I should think. We must certainly speak to her before she rejoins the main school. And there are arrangements to be made to allow Miss Granger to go to the dungeons as often as needed without drawing attention. There is much to be done to protect the students. Am I doing the right thing, Minerva?"

"You are doing the best you are able with what you have been given, Albus. No one could ask for more than that."

"But they will, Minerva," he groaned. "But they will."

Cedric groaned as he stretched out on Harry's bed in Gryffindor tower. Even if he wouldn't admit it to the others, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept in at least two days, and he felt even worse waiting for news about Hermione. All he wanted right now was to sink into some kind of oblivion, to keep a safe and healthy image of her in his head, to sleep and dream only of her, to wake and find out that everything was okay. Harry had promised to wake him up if they heard anything new.

He stared up at the canopy of crimson above him, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. His head was spinning and his heart was pounding in his ears as he thought of her. It was strange to be so close to her things...her dormitory was just across the hall...and yet feel so far away from her. His body literally ached for her, for just a brief glimpse of her face or a hint of the wafting fragrance of her. What he wouldn't give to hold her close to him, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own, to smell the sweetness of her breath. It made him want to cry...tough Quidditch player or not...and groan our her name with the pain that tore through him.

It took a long while before he drifted off into a restless sleep that was plagued with nightmares. Image after image of Hermione gasping in pain, crying in fear, and screaming in agony flitted through his overtaxed brain. She was covered in blood, her clothes rumpled and torn, and her hair in muddy knots. The worst part was not seeing these pictures, but being held back and helpless, unable to take even one step to aid her. Her pain became his, her fear became a part of him, and everything she was suffering flooded into him in a torrent. It tore at his insides, pooling blood and bile in his body, shooting poison through his veins.

He awoke with a spasm, sweat beading on his face and the blood seemed to drain into his toes. His eyes were blurry with tears and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. "Hermione," he moaned, closing his eyes again and pressing his fists against them.

The door opened quietly and Harry stuck his head around the door. His green eyes were full of pity as he took in the form writhing in agony on the bed. "Ced," he said quietly, creeping to the bedside. "Hey, you hungry?"

Even though he would much rather have stayed in bed and wallowed, his stomach lurched and growled. Cedric rolled onto his side and sat up. He felt horrible and was sure he looked much worse. "Sure, I guess. Where we gonna get something this late?"

Harry looked down at the older boy sadly. "Ced, it's Sunday morning. You slept through the evening and most of the night, too."

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry, Harry. I wish you'd have woke me up." He stood up and followed Harry out of the empty dormitory. His eyes lingered on the door to Hermione's room for a long moment, and he heard Harry stop on the stairs below him.

"It wasn't any problem, really. Ron kept an eye on you, and I slept on one of the sofas in the common room," he replied after a moment of silence. As he led Cedric through the portrait hole and through the corridors, he pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from the pocket of his jeans. "Professor Dumbledore sent this by Dobby this morning. He's going to see Hermione this afternoon, and if she's feeling up to visitors, McGonagall will come get us."

The rhythm of Cedric's heart faltered and then began to race. His face was flushed, and his head began to spin. "We can go see her tonight?"

Harry nodded. "If she's up to it."

For the first time in days, Cedric began to feel like it was all going to be okay.