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Chapter 28: The Full Moon Rises

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For the first time in a long time Hermione felt at peace. There was no head to ache, no pulse to race. There was no war for her in this grey world, only peace.

Neutral. Calming. Nothing. Like floating on a cloud without gravity to pull her down.

She did not think about much, she had no need. Everything was taken care of here. Any fear was taken away, all worries carried off on a breeze.

Pleasant. Soft. Nothing.

Yet there was an itch at the back of her mind. The world was a soft cloud but for a single thorn that just barely broke the skin.

Something was wrong, but what? Everything here was perfect. She was happy. Not as happy as she had been wrapped in warm arms, but happy enough to live this way. To not protest. To follow orders.

Her body was moving. She had not noticed it before, but she was walking somewhere. She didn’t know where, and she couldn’t stop her limbs from moving.

Panic flooded her stomach only for that same calming nothingness to wipe it away again. The anxious feeling was gone, but she was not completely content anymore.

She tried to hang onto her fear but it became harder to hold.

A question scraped at her mind, like a trick question on an exam. She knew the answer and yet it wouldn’t come. She was supposed to know this, so why couldn’t she remember? Why couldn’t she move, why couldn’t she think straight?

There was something in her hand, a quill? No, a wand. But Lucius had her wand. Bellatrix’s heel had dug into her shoulder and then…

A wave of calm crashed into her mind. Another one followed until her mind was submerged in a vat of molasses trying to slow and sweeten her thoughts.

Life had never tasted so sweet before, and she refused to believe it now.

There was a prick at the back of her neck and suddenly a warmth flooded her whole body. It slid through her skull and down her collarbone across her ribs and through to the tips of her fingers. Then, like a rubber band pulled too far, her mind snapped back into place.

Hermione stood in the middle of a clearing surrounded by the shadowed silhouette of trees reaching up towards a cloudy evening sky. The sun was retiring but a few stubborn rays held firm, painting streaks of orange across an indigo sky. Night was close, bringing a chill that bit at her skin.

She had lost the cloak she’d taken from Selwyn, but her wand was in her hand and it was raised.

In front of her was the cabin she’d left barely a day prior. The door was shut, but there were people standing in front of it, their cheeks gaunt and eyes ringed with purple. Ginny and Harry were among the few able to limp out of the cabin to defend it, their wands raised to meet her challenge.

Her eyes went to her wand. Why did she have it pulled on her friends?

Immediately she let her hand go slack. The wand dropped to the damp grass at her feet. She put her hands up, her fingers splayed out in a gesture of surrender.

No one moved to lower their weapon, their eyes still trained on her. Hurt began to twist through her chest. Did they think so little of her, even with her only defense abandoned on the ground? She looked to Ginny, knowing that of all the people in the Order she would understand. However, Ginny’s pale gaze was not directed at her at all, but something behind her.

A choked scream rang out from behind Hermione, echoing through the clearing. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

At the other end of the clearing, near the tree line was a row of Death Eaters in their full regalia. Metal masks caught the last few rays of sunlight as night conquered them. They had their wands out, ready to converge on the cabin and overwhelm it.

There were a few figures without masks. Voldemort’s pale skin seemed to glow in the growing darkness. He had his hood down so everyone could see him. Beside him was Lucius, his long white hair exposed and his mask thrown to the ground. He was saying something, no he was begging.

Between the line and the cabin was a figure laying on the grass. It was from this shape that the scream had emitted. Bellatrix stood beside it; her wand drawn. Suddenly the figure twitched, throwing his head back and exposing his face.

“Draco.” His name escaped Hermione’s lips like a breath, quiet and only for her. His face twisted with pain and her heart ached.

“Stop being so insolent!” Bellatrix growled. She was trying to cast something but despite the spell connecting it wasn’t taking root. She let out a scream of frustration.

Hermione took a step forward but a hand caught her wrist, yanking her back.

“No.” It was Ginny, her voice commanding and stern. She pushed her body in front of Hermione’s, her wand held in a dueling stance. “Run.”

“But-”

“NOW!”

Hermione stumbled backwards, intent on following Ginny’s order, but suddenly her feet stopped. She couldn’t pull her gaze from Draco’s pained expression; her ears couldn’t block out his tortured screams. Was it the cursed bond in her veins or was it something else that froze her in the middle of danger?

Ginny was shoving something into her hand—her wand.

“Get her out of here,” she yelled at someone else.

A hand grabbed Hermione’s elbow and began to drag her around the side of the cabin. It was Alicia Spinnet, her grip urgent but too gentle to truly hold her. Hermione pulled out of her hold only for the small girl to grab the collar of her shirt and yank her back. She fell to the dirt, the air knocked from her lungs. Hermione twisted around to see Alicia’s wand on her.

Her heart was as loud as a drum in her ears as she tried to focus on his eyes. She hadn’t been in control of her mind in hours and now it was sluggish to respond to the quick thoughts she wanted to enact.

“You have to leave, Hermione,” Alicia said through gritted teeth, the tip of her wand trembling.

“Wolfsbane. Lee has Wolfsbane.” Lee had told her he had one serving of the potion at the cabin, if she could get it to Draco before the clouds revealed the moon then the worst of the bloodshed could be avoided. It would be cutting it close, but it would save lives. It’d let them focus on the Death Eaters at the tree line. “If we can—”

“It’s gone,” Alicia said.

“What?”

“Lee took it.”

“Where is he?”

“With Remus somewhere along the coast. Lupin’s too weak, he probably won’t wake after this moon. Lee went to be with him.”

Her heart sank. There had been so much time to plan before and now hopelessness threatened to drown out every thought. It was too late now, everything had fallen into place exactly how Voldemort wanted it to.

Hermione sat up, unbothered by the wand Alicia still had trained on her. She looked across the field as dusk inched in. Bellatrix was kneeling over Draco, her wand shoved against his throat. Despite the stance there was a worried expression on her face. Lucius was gone from the Death Eater’s line, his light hair nowhere to be seen.

She had so much time to prepare and yet it all had fallen apart anyway. Her fingers dug into the damp ground around her, mud imbedding itself under her fingernails.

In a matter of minutes the moon would rise, Draco would turn, and the war would end. She closed her eyes and could feel his wild pulse in her throat as if it were her own. She could taste his fear and feel his pain.

Hermione stood and brushed the dirt from her clothes.

“It was nice knowing you, Spinnet,” she said with a sad smile. Alicia nodded and while her wand never wavered, she didn’t cast anything when Hermione turned her back on her and walked back towards the front line.

Ginny was yelling something at her back but Hermione ignored it. She broke into a run, crossing the field until Bellatrix stood, her wand pointed at Granger. Hermione froze.

The sky was almost completely dark, the sun just a whisper in the west.

Bellatrix had her boot pressed over Draco’s throat. There was blood spilling from his nose and he looked exhausted. The sight of him, bloody and bruised, flooded her heart with anger. Without thinking of the consequences, Hermione moved to shoot a jinx. However, Bellatrix was faster and a spell caught Hermione in the wrist sending her wand flying over the grass and rolling into the darkness.

“You’re not of any use now anyway,” Bellatrix sneered. The tip of her wand began to flicker with a green light.

Hermione’s breath stilled in her lungs, too shocked to scream or even gasp. The last few stray beams of sunlight died and a dark indigo sky took over. The moon’s light, no longer outshined by the sun, spilled over the clearing.

With nothing to defend herself, Hermione raised her arms over her face. A foolish instinct that would do nothing to stop what was coming. The green light grew, casting a ghoulish light over Bellatrix’s harsh smile.

A bloodcurdling scream rose from the ground. It was Draco, his voice strained and broken. In the moonlight he began to jerk and convulse. Bellatrix realized what was happening a second too late. She looked down only to be thrown across the clearing, the spell dying on the tip of her wand as it landed among the trees.

The Draco that rose from the ground was not the one she knew but the monster she had been dreading for a month. Its fur was a light grey in the moonlight, its muzzle covered in its own blood as Draco’s face had been.

It was impossible to find air to fill her lungs. The beasts’ silver eyes turned on her. He huffed, steam curling from his nostrils before baring his fangs. Hermione stumbled backwards.

The muscles in the beast’s body tensed up and she knew it was about to strike. Without a thought as to where she would go, she twisted around and took off running. Away from the cabin and the Order. Away from Bellatrix and the Death Eaters. She sprinted across the meadow and didn’t pause as she crashed through the treeline. Slender branches slapped across her arms and face, gnarled roots threatened to trip her, but she kept going. Like a locomotive on a track, she barreled through the underbrush, her lungs burning and her muscles aching.

She could only run so far and then it’d be over. She wouldn’t know who won in the meadow only that she had lost.

The crashing behind her spurred her forward. She could hear the beasts’ panting, the snap of his jaws, and the pounding of his paws against the forest floor. She didn’t dare look back.

Hermione had spent the better part of the last few months not running or dueling but curled up in a library or loitering in the corner of the medical ward. Every new breath of air brought a wave of pain to her chest and as she pushed further into the forest her knees threatened to give way at any moment.

But the longer she ran the more time Ginny and the others got. The longer she survived this pain the more she could spare them from.

She kept going until suddenly the trees broke and she stumbled into a garden. She came to a stop in the middle of the plot having realized she trampled a few rows of winter cabbages. She looked up to see a small cottage, warm light spilling from the window. Beyond it were other little houses. She’d led him to an entire town. Her heart dropped.

She turned around to see the large smoke colored beast tear through the branches and enter the garden. It paused, it’s silver eyes only on her. Werewolves might be mindless but not ones affected by a bond. She stared into the beast’s eyes—Draco’s eyes—and saw the deep seated hunger behind them. Drool dripped from his jowls. Fear slithered down Hermione’s spine.

Then, she twisted, running across the garden’s neat rows parallel to the forest. She ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her, veering off into the trees and away from the town. It worked, she could hear him pursuing her, but for how long?

She kept moving, but her body ached. She wasn’t as fast as before, her feet stumbled with each new sluggish step. Hermione struggled onward until her legs could hold her no longer. It started with a missed step and then she was on her hands and knees in the dark, the growing sounds of her pursuer closing in.

His footsteps slowed down as he spotted her, fallen and vulnerable.

Her arms collapsed and she fell face first into the undergrowth. Fear clutched her heart and she could do nothing but close her eyes and brace herself. There were no tears in her eyes, but there were plenty of regrets in her mind. Words stuck on her tongue.

The beast pressed himself close to the ground, sniffing the ground around her before leaning over her. She could feel the heat rolling off his skin and his hot breath ruffling her hair. She peeked through her lashes to see a paw planted against the ground beside her head as the werewolf pressed closer to her. Fur rubbed against her arms, his nose pressed into her hair.

His nudging became more insistent and suddenly a paw grabbed her by the shoulder and she was flipped over onto her back, staring up at grey fur and sharp fangs.

The last time she’d truly spoken to Draco had been in the library. The last little dream where she’d pulled away from for her own safety. Since then all she had thought of was him. Now she would die without saying her goodbyes.

She thought of the lycanthropy books she’d read over the past few months. He may not be in control right now but he’d remember it all later. He’d live with the memory of killing her, of the taste of her flesh. She didn’t want him to live that way. It may be a cowardly thought, but she didn’t want to die either.

She wished she could see him, the real Draco, one last time.

Without thinking, she raised a tired hand to the side of the beasts’ face. He tensed as she slipped her fingers through his fur.

“I missed you,” she whispered. Tears pricked her eyes but she was too tired to fight them. She should have fought Bellatrix the second she had come to. She should have spoken to him before the curse had taken him. Then at least she wouldn’t feel so empty and disappointed.

She trailed her fingers through grey fur. In the moonlight it almost looked silver.

“I love you,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word. She opened her mouth to say more but she couldn’t. Her throat was dry, her mind exhausted. She squeezed her eyes shut, let her hand fall to her side, and waited for the inevitable.

The peak of each tooth pressed against her flesh as he stretched his jaws around the junction of her neck and shoulder. With one bite it would all be over. Instead of a bite, his warm tongue licked from her collarbone up to the pinnacle of her shoulder. His tongue retraced the path over and over again. Then his teeth sank into her sink. She heard a woman’s scream and realized it was coming from her.

His jaw relaxed and pulled away but the stinging in her skin remained. He dragged his tongue over the wounds. The beast nudged her with his nose as if to coax her up from the ground.

She opened her eyes and saw her blood on the end of the sickening curve of the beast’s fangs. He nudged her again and she finally moved to sit up. His tongue returned to her collarbone, lapping at her blood.

Her head felt dizzy. She wished she’d grabbed her wand but Bellatrix had sent it flying into the darkness. She could clean the wound and prevent…

Her eyes went to Draco, unrecognizable under the full moon. He was still crouched over her, his tongue on her skin, his claws pulling at her collar and ripping it. His head bumped into hers nearly knocking her over again. He was nuzzling her.

Her skin tingled and a hunger she had never felt before clawed up her throat. Her limbs began to tremble until her bones began to ache. She grit her teeth, blinking back tears as aches seemed to consume her from the inside out. As if the very marrow of her skeleton was trying to reach out through her skin and touch the moonbeams scattered across the first floor.

There was fur against her, hot breath on her face and a tongue lapping at her cheek. It was comforting but it didn’t stop the pain rippling through her body. Her fingers curled into his fur as a scream ripped itself from her throat.

She thought she’d die. Edwin Smith had died and that had been the only proof she had that the bond existed.

Yet as her heart began to beat faster and faster and her vision was overcome with blinding white light, she realized there was a fate other than death awaiting her at the end of a werewolf’s fangs. She should be sobbing with grief as her blood became something new and cursed, but all she could think about was how she may see Draco again and that gave her hope.