Fan Fiction ❯ Post-Vampiracy Shock ❯ His turning, her struggle ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc, belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I claim no ownership to any of her characters.

Chapter Three: His turning, her struggle

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His vision was blurred. He couldn’t see ten feet in front of him; everything was grey. His hand reached out before him to feel for obstacles, his feet shuffling slowly along.

Helpless.

His fingers felt along a wall. Sensitive, white fingertips touched hinges, and he knew he had found a door. Then he was at the entrance…a soft light flickered across his features, and the door swung inward, revealing Hermione Granger, huddled and weeping softly at the base of a mirror inside a small, dark room.

Her face turned up towards him, pale and wet, despairing. Her face turned angry as she spotted him - and she disappeared into a mass of dark shadow, barely visible in the dimly lit room. He turned immediately and was about to flee when the shadow swooped in front of him.

Pain.

He writhed in silent agony as Granger-turned-shadow pounced upon him. His body was being ripped inside out and back again; he could feel every pulse and every beat of his struggling mortal heart. Dazedly, he watched, wide-eyed, as his fingers turned deadly white, devoid of blood.

All he could see was shadow; all he could feel was pain.

It was far too much.

He blacked out.

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Draco Malfoy sat up, breathing heavily. He hated that dream.

It had a been a bloody week since he had come upon Granger so unluckily in the Room of Requirement - so why didn’t the dreams leave him? It was inconceivable that he was actually afraid of Mudblood Granger. No, his dreams must be trying to tell him something…for as absurd as that sounded, for at 6’2”, he towered over Granger’s tiny frame and he was positive she couldn’t do anything to him.

Not anything more than she already had, anyway.

Draco rubbed his face with his hands wearily and stood, stretching slightly.

He sniffed. Why would any self-respecting vampire choose to turn her, a puny Mudblood? Better off just to drink her life (though he didn’t know why anyone would want her dirty blood in the first place) and let her die.

After all, she had left him to die.

He scowled. She would have to pay for that.

Nobody (almost) kills a Malfoy and gets away with it.

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Hermione woke in the middle of the night to voices in her head.

Disconcerted, she extricated herself from the armchair quickly and sat up.

She could have sworn she heard voices. It didn’t bode well for her sanity, but she was sure she had heard something. Maybe it was just one voice.

“Silly Granger…”

Yes, definitely one voice. She shivered slightly, wrapping her blanket around herself.

“Your friends distance themselves now…”

Yes, yes, she thought absently as the faint whispering got steadily louder, I knew that…

“…do you know why? Your heart is blacker than any pitiful human’s could ever be…”

Black heart? Hermione frowned, clutching the blankets to her chest. Stupid voices, she thought. My “heart” is perfectly clean…Ron and Harry deserted me because I didn’t choose death! She knew this perfectly well; they had as good as told her.

“…and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Yes, the voice was definitely getting rather invasive, she decided. Go away, she told it.

She heard a chuckle, and the voice continued, loud and demanding, but whispering and soothing --

“Silly, silly Granger…you should have killed him…”

Killed…? Oh…Malfoy. Well, she had thought she did. He just sortof... lived again.

“…it would be better to give into the darkness, you know…less pain, to give into your new and secret desires…do not fight me,” The voice was really annoying her now. The more she listened, the more she wanted to do its bidding --- and that wouldn’t do at all.

Nor would it help to have an emotional breakdown, she supposed, but there’s really no avoiding that, she thought regretfully. Damn female hormones…

For silent tears had already trailed paths down her face, hot and wet, and she found herself breathing significantly harder than when she had awoke --

“…you can be as rational and logical and intelligent as you like, Granger…you will give in…”

“No!” Hermione spoke vehemently to the empty room; her own words echoed around her, startling her. A little hiccoughing sob escaped her mouth, and she covered it with her hand. “I’m still Hermione!”

The voice chuckled again, damn it -

“Stupid girl…”

She stiffened, bristling -- stupid was not something she was used to being described as.

“…face it, my dear…you are a creature, not human anymore - and you have already created another one of your own, such an extraordinary concept…you are darkness and shadow alone now; the body you possess is nothing more than a cold shell of your mortal body…you know this…”

Angered now, for the voice was completely right, she stood up and glared at the ceiling resolutely.

“So what? You are not me…you don’t exist; you’re just a figment of my imagination, and even if I have gone mad, I won’t let myself…”

“...kill? Oh, you shall, dear, you shall…you WILL kill, and be dark…nobody can stop you, of course…not even your precious hero friends can 'save the world', with you in their way…”

“What?!" Hermione exclaimed, thoroughly startled. "I’m not going to stand in Harry’s way, even if I would be able to! For Merlin’s sake -- I would never betray him!”

“Even though he has deserted you at your hour of need…”

She snorted. “Honestly, he’ll come around, the both of them will, they’re just being stubborn boys, they know it’s really still me --”

“They are under no such delusion…you are nothing but evil to them anymore, a simple part of their past, a minor obstacle…”

“I’m not any obstacle of theirs!” She spun around in the empty room, whispering frantically, her hands bunched in fists at her sides, glaring at the still air, searching - “I’m not going to bloody help the Death Eaters!”

Eyes roving the room feverishly, she failed to find a corporeal form, and it drove her mad -- there had to be a logical explanation! She realized now that this simply wasn’t her own mind, as much as she’d like to believe it was, because that would be so much easier -- no, it was definitely intruding…where was it?! She had her wand now, and was clutching it tightly in a white-knuckled fist.

“Who are you?” she whispered to the empty room.

She received no response, only a quiet, sinister chuckle that echoed in her head.

Growing slightly hysterical, she began to sob softly as she collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. Her cheek pressed to the carpeted floor; her lips worked furiously, tears running fast and hot down her pale face --

“I’m not evil, I’m not, really, I’m not…I will not HELP YOU! I will not kill innocents…I will never, never, never, ever betray Harry…”

A small sound, almost like an exasperated sigh; the voice spoke again:

“You are thirsty.”

Hermione stopped muttering abruptly and sat up slowly, staring blankly ahead.

When had her headache reappeared?

An odd, confused look came over her face and she placed a hand on her forehead - cold, as always now…

“Thirsty?”

A flicker of dark shadow flashed on her face as she smoothly rose to her feet.

She left the room, eyes dark and swirling black, her mind trapped inside of her, screaming to herself not to go, not to give in…

“Oh, but you shall give in, little Granger…you shall,” a voice whispered in the dark as the door shut with a small thump, leaving behind only blackness --- and that soft, terrible, sinister voice.

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Draco whistled happily as he strolled down the deserted nighttime halls of Hogwarts.

Oh, yes, Granger was going to get it. He had it all planned out; it would only take a bit of persuasion.

He stuck his hands in his robe pockets, humming an old tune Goyle had had playing in the Common Room.
He was headed for the kitchens - after all, a hard day’s work of planning revenge on a mud blood made one rather hungry. A steaming mug of butterbeer should do it, he decided. Or perhaps something a tad stronger, with a bit of scone on the side --

Mmm, yes, that will do, he decided finally.

He was appreciating the tendency of House Elves to love to serve when he saw a strange sight in the hallway and nearly tripped.

Hermione Granger, out of bed and roaming the halls. Head Girl Granger, breaking a major rule. His eyes nearly boggled out of his head.

What the bloody hell was she doing?

She was walking oddly, not at her usual hurrying pace, but calm and smooth; controlled, almost.

Also what she was not doing was watching out for herself.

She walked smack in the middle of the hallway, in full view of anyone who decided to roam the halls at night, including --

Mew.

A scraggly cat with yellow, piercing eyes stalked the corner, her eyes looking past Hermione.

Oh, shit! This was great! Mudblood Granger was going to get caught breaking a rule!

Filch came around the corner that Mrs. Norris had just came from.

“What is it, Mrs. Norris? A student out of bed, eh? We’ll catch ‘em, we will…”

He continued hobbling down the hall, lantern sending light twitching into every corner.

Draco’s jaw dropped. Granger couldn’t be ten feet away from Filch, clearly visible in the lantern-light…but Filch walked right past her!

For that matter, right past her and heading towards him! Fuck, why hadn’t he stayed in bed?

He pressed himself against the wall next to a thick tapestry, vainly hoping he could blend in.

The cat went past him first, sniffing.

Draco decided then and there to never wear cologne again, for the cat turned and looked right at him.

Breathing shallowly, he stared back at the cat as he watched, from the corner of his eye, Filch notice the cat’s interest and hobble towards him, eyes fixed towards the very place he was standing ---

Shit.

Filch came to a halt not two feet in front of him, lantern squeaking in his tight grasp, and turned, pale eyes scanning ---

Draco shut his eyes, waiting for a screeching call of ‘student out of bed!…

…but none came.

Baffled, he opened his eyes again. Filch’s eyes were right on him, but saw past him --- was he invisible? Draco looked down at his body. No, he could see himself quite clearly ---

What was going on? Was Filch’s eyesight finally failing?

Surely not; for right then, a spider came scuttling silently out into the hallway and Filch’s eyes snapped to it. He snorted and turned away, muttering,

“Damn cat…chasing spiders…”

Draco ran in front of Filch stupidly, waving a hand frantically in his face.

Filch didn’t flinch.

Draco grinned. He could get away with anything now!

It was more than Potter and his friends could accomplish these days.

Except, of course, for Granger -- who was still walking silently forward, seeming to have ignored both Draco and Filch.

Was something wrong with her? Perhaps she was sleepwalking. He strode towards her and waved a hand in front of her face, much like he did with Filch.

She didn’t flinch, either.

It was baffling. Why couldn’t anyone see him?

Or her? Even though he could?

Was she simply seeing him, but not responding?

Definitely sleepwalking, then.

Her eyes were strange, though; he could have sworn her eyes were a lighter brown color - not this dark, liquid black.

Not that he had ever noticed her eyes; he just doubted that they were quite so dark when she clearly was not of dark coloring, with her pale skin and light-brown hair.

She kept walking, him following beside her, watching her intently.

She took no notice of anything around her, except to turn when there was a corner and to take the stairs with a floating grace.

It was really as if she was in some sort of trance.

Where was she going?

Screw the kitchens, he thought.

He was going to follow her.

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Whee. Another chapter. This one was really fun, and kinda took its own course, and it's rather longer than the others. I kept debating whether to split it in two or not.

I left you with a mild cliffhanger; mostly because I don't know where she's going yet. xP

Review please!