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Lucky by napalmnacey
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Lucky

napalmnacey

Chapter Four

It had taken a long time to explain everything, just as he had anticipated. Thankfully Hermione picked things up very quickly, and his explanation of the Pool of Possibilities had hastened her comprehension of the situation quicker than he thought it would. He wished he had mentioned it in the first place.

"S-so I'm not real?" she said.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think so... but who's to say for sure? Maybe somewhere you are real..." He gulped. "I'd like to think you are."

She blushed, looking down. "The only reason you're like this to me is because there's a Hermione where you come from... one you care about deeply." She gave a tight sigh. "I think I might be jealous of her."

He gulped, taking her hand and wrapping one of his around it. "You don't have to be."

Hermione gave a self-deprecatory laugh, looking down at their hands with a blush. She didn't see Harry tilt his head until his nose touched hers, and she gasped.

"Oh I-"


Harry didn't let her say anything else. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her soundly, squeezing her hand as his heart soared delightedly. The lips under his were more eager this time, an arm winding about the back of his neck. There was a shock to his soul as her mouth opened beneath his, and it rallied and swelled as he ventured his tongue between her teeth. Just as he felt a warm thrumming through his body at the momentum, Hermione pulled away, shaking her head.


"No... no..."

He frowned. "What?"

She looked up at him, cheeks red. "I think... I think you should save this for the Hermione you know. I think..." She gave a soft smile. "I think you mean it for her anyway."

"You're the same people," he said. "Just the same."

"I know," she said. "But... but you're not the same Harry, and it's no good, me starting something with someone who doesn't belong here."

Harry shrugged. "Who knows... When I go back home, and the other Harry gets back here... he might be in for a bit of a shock. It might knock some sense into him."

Her smile slowly became wider. "I hope so."

Harry nodded. "Me too-"

"Shh!"

Hermione glanced about, her eyes wide, her hands clasped around Harry's arm and digging in. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione shook her head and covered it with her hand.

He soon heard the reason for Hermione's caution. There were voices, a mass of voices, and they were coming closer with every moment. They sounded young and angry.

"Come on!" hissed Hermione, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the other end of the stand. "We have to get back the castle! Now!!"

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Hermione looked to him, no joviality in her eyes. "Because we're in serious trouble now, Harry."

He wanted to go home, he wanted to go home so badly, but he didn't want to leave Hermione here. Logically he knew she wasn't real, logically he knew that this was just an interactive vision in a magical artifact, but his heart tore at the thought of leaving this wonderful girl to the hell around him, no matter what his mind tried to say.

They crawled under the canvas, scrabbling to their feet and sneaking around the corner of the stand - right into Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley.


"Well, well... this certainly makes things clearer, doesn't it, Weasley?" Draco grinned brightly at both Harry and Hermione.

Ron just looked incensed. "You have been poking her!"

Harry stood in front of Hermione, pulling her in closely behind him and glaring death at Ron. "Lovely. I suppose you kiss your mother with that foul mouth of yours, Ronnie?"

His childhood nick-name and the mention of his mother sent Ron into a rage. He jumped forward, looking ready to rip Harry's head off, but the green-clad arms of Draco Malfoy held the angry redhead back.

"Down, Ronald, down," said the boy in a sickly sweet tone. "We don't need to resort to mindless violence, we're Purebloods." A long easy smile spread across the pale pointed face. "Well thought out and viciously cruel violence will do quite nicely."

Ron nodded, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"I can't believe you're going to do this to your own best friend!" snapped Hermione from behind Harry. "You're an animal, Weasley!"

Ron tipped his head, a grieving look on his face. "I don't know who this git is, but he's not the Harry I know. Whether it's thanks to magical means, or being brainwashed while being between your filthy bloody legs, the end's the same." He pulled himself up to his full and rather considerable height. "He's a traitor and he needs to be dealt with."

"But carefully," said Draco, stepping forward. "Delicately. We're not barbarians, after all."

Harry felt Hermione backing away, and he backed off with her. His eyes watched Draco and Ron, keeping an eye out for their wand hands. His feet kept working backwards, but suddenly he wasn't moving anymore. He heard Hermione squeak behind him, and looking over his shoulder he saw why.

They'd just backed up into a twenty-strong throng of fellow students, and they did not look friendly. Harry could not believe what he was seeing. Mingled together were Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws, all of them Purebloods. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Blaize Zabini, Ernie MacMillan, Susan Bones, students he'd seen in his class but had never really talked to... all of them glared at him coldly, viciously.

Hermione huddled to him, shaking terribly, and he wrapped his arms around her, backing away from the students and finding himself pinned against a canvas wall.

Draco Malfoy moved in, shaking his head. "You know, Harry, I really thought that you had better taste than this. I mean... Cho Chang really is a beautiful example of womanhood, and I'm sure she would have been most obliging to you. You didn't have to go ruining everything by going for this waste of magic."

Ron snorted, muttering darkly. "Dipping your dick in dirty blood... it's fucking disgraceful..."

Malfoy glared at Ron. "Quiet. We're dealing with this. Now."

Hermione gasped, and Harry held her tightly to him as the students rushed them. Without another word Harry pulled out his wand, pointing it at Ron and Draco.

"Eicio!"

Both Ron and Draco tumbled away with a blast of red and gold light, as if the force of a cyclone had been pointed directly at them. Hermione gasped again.

"You really aren't from here!" she said. "Harry couldn't duel to save his life!"

"Come on!" he hissed, pulling her with him as they raced away from the band of angry students.

Harry ran for all he was worth, keeping Hermione close to him, his eyes fixed on the portcullis to the castle. In between lay the Whomping Willow, and Harry ran straight for it, hoping to dodge the branches and escape the shouting throng behind him.


As his feet pounded the grass beneath him, the ground exploded here and there, and suddenly Hermione began laughing madly. He glanced behind him only a moment and saw several wands being waved about.

"Finite Incantatem," he breathed, waving his wand at Hermione. "If we're going to make it we have to stop a few of them..."

Hermione nodded, and pulling her wand from her robes she pointed at the crowd as they ran. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Ernie MacMillan toppled back, rigid as a flag-pole.

"Stupefy!" cried Harry. A couple more students tumbled to the ground.

"It's not enough, Harry!" she cried. "There's too many of them!"

"Keep doing it!" Harry hissed. "We have to make it back to the castle!"

They ran on, shouting curses and hexes over their shoulders, picking off students and ducking and dodging wildly aimed magic. By the time they made it to the Whomping Willow there were only nine students left - mostly Slytherins, who would have been free to explore the Dark Arts to their hearts content in this reality. They were far better than Harry anticipated, and this set a dark plunging chill in his heart.


"Harry!" Hermione said. "That tree will pulverise us!"

"Damn it," he muttered. "I should have kept a hold of my broom!"

"Summon it!" she said. "We can fly away from them!"

Harry nodded. "Right! Cover me will you?"

Hermione nodded, shouting curses at their pursuers frantically. Harry lifted his wand, calling out for his broom, the wand emitting a burst of fiery light at his command. He held Hermione close and kept running, glancing behind him to check for his broom.

From over the edge of the stadium down the hill soared his broom, and shooting through the air, gold and true, it hurtled towards Harry.

Harry unwittingly slowed, keeping his eye on the broom, trying to keep clear of the magic being shot at him and still trying to run with all his might. The broom began to soar low, and he shook his head, disbelief taking him at the course the thing took. It wasn't supposed to dip down and travel across the ground like that... It wasn't supposed to go so close to the people he was running away from.

It most certainly wasn't supposed to be caught by Draco with frightening ease. The angry mob of students had had time to catch up now, and there were only a few yards between them and Harry and Hermione. He sped up, pulling Hermione with him, swearing at himself for even trying the accio stunt. Damn it, he thought, I should have kept running!

"I've got your broom, Potter!"

There was a sickening crack.

"Whoops!"

The students behind them laughed and jeered.

"Daddy will buy you another one, won't he, Potter? Unless..." There was a cruel pause. "He's in jail!"

"Keep running, Hermione," he said, feeling the girl tense up with anger next to him. "Just keep-"

"Funibus Conligaris!"

Something curled about Harry. It was insidious, writhing and wriggling between him and Hermione, the girl being pushed away from him. Looking down he saw shimmering magical rope, binding about him so tight he could barely breathe. The stuff wound about his hand, easing his wand from his grip.

"No!"

"Harry!"

Hermione stopped, crouching next to him and grabbing his wand. She stood over him, glaring at the oncoming group with defiance.


Harry struggled, wriggling as much as he could, but he could barely move. He turned his head, looking up at her.


"Run, now... Run!"

"I won't, Harry!" She glanced down at him, brown eyes glinting fiercely. "I'm staying right where I am!"

"No!" he cried. "Please! Please run! They'll hurt you!"

"I'm not leaving you."

"Don't be a stubborn witch!" he growled. "For God's sake! I'm not from here! I can leave! You can't! Go to Dumbledore and save yourself!"

"And what if you can't?!" she cried. "What if you CAN get hurt by being here? I'm not risking it!"

"Why?" Harry said "Why risk yourself for me? You wouldn't even talk to me yesterday!"

"Cause you're not him," she said. "And I know that if you were my friend... like you're her friend... I'd do this."

Damn her stubborn bloody heart! Before he could try to persuade her again, hands were all over him and pulling him to his feet, the girl being snatched away in the bulky arms of Crabbe and Goyle, Draco stepping up to the point just outside of the Whomping Willow's reach, grinning maliciously.

Hermione managed to stun Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode before Crabbe yanked the wands from her hands, snapping them over his knee.

"Tch tch," Draco tisked, shaking his head and standing in front of her. Crabbe and Goyle had hold of her arms, pulling them apart and to a wide uncomfortable angle so she couldn't move without it hurting. He looked over her face, a furrow of thought on his brow. "I do wonder what Potter sees in you. You're not much to look at, are you?"

"Speak for yourself," spat Hermione.

Draco's mouth twitched to a pucker, and with a terrible cracking noise, brought the back of his hand across her face in a fierce blow.

"Get your hands off her, Malfoy!" cried Harry, his blood thrumming in his veins, rage making him feel as though he would burst from his very own skin. Draco afforded him a brief, mildly annoyed look before putting his attentions back to Hermione.

"You better show me a little more respect than that, Mudblood." He stood tall. "I'm your only hope of a nice painless time of it. Hmm?"

Her head lolled forward, no sign of her face amongst the ample tresses of thick mousy brown hair. After a moment she lifted it, enough so that her face could be seen. Blood trickled down her chin, and narrowing her eyes, she spat all that she could at his feet.

Without warning Draco struck her again, this time the other way, and Harry thrashed and flung himself about on the ground. He'd get to the bastard, even if he had to chew his bloody feet off at the ankles...

"Keep your dirty watery blood away from me, you filthy little whore. I was going to be nice. I was going to keep it short for you since you kept your place all these years and stayed out of the way. It's a shame really," he sighed, shaking his head. "Could have been all over like that." He snapped his fingers.

The other purebloods gathered around her, ignoring Harry for the moment.

"Keep out of the way," Draco snapped, pushing the students into a wide circle. "I want the traitor to see this..." He looked to Hermione, flaring a nostril and huffing in satisfaction. "This is the best time I've had in quite a while. Now..." He looked to his classmates, wagging his wand at her. "You all get one shot. Any of you finish the job and I'll do you myself... all right? We're saving that."


The students murmured amongst themselves, getting rather excited. Draco looked to the first student in front of him - a rather incensed Blaise Zabini - and tipped his head towards Hermione.

The handsome young man strode forward and without a twitch of restraint, sent his fist slamming into the young woman's stomach.

"NO!" Harry roared.

She let out a strangled wordless cry, knees giving out underneath her. After a harsh cough she dangled in Crabbe and Goyle's arms.

"Ooh, nice," said Draco.

Another student stepped forward, a Slytherin Harry didn't know by name. Harry grit his teeth, ignoring the hot burn of his face slick with tears, the pounding of his heart in his throat. All he cared about was getting out of the bloody ropes...

The student grabbed a handful of Hermione's hair and yanked with all her might. He saw Hermione squeeze her eyes shut, biting her lip, not saying a word as the huge clump of hair was pulled right out of her scalp.

Harry struggled, trying to worm his way forward to do - well, anything he could manage. He threw his body forward like a silvery-looking seal, rage building as one by one each student doled out their punishment to Hermione. She was slapped, punched, scratched, kicked. One student even bit her on the shoulder so hard it drew blood. Each time it happened Harry felt his heart being torn a little more.

"All right!" shouted Malfoy, looking down at Harry's progress and lifting a brow. "Well. That's good. You saved me moving you to a better vantage point." He went back to Hermione, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head back savagely, meeting pain-glazed eyes.

"I think you've had enough... but it's still not going to be completely painless. No. No quick little spell for you. That's too good for you. Too... magical."

He wasn't sure how she did it; she remained stoic, tears in her eyes but defiance making them gleam so beautifully it broke him. It seemed that nothing they did could defeat her spirit.

"Stand him up!"

Blaise and another boy pulled Harry to his feet, and Draco looked to Crabbe and Goyle, looking almost bored but an unmistakable look of victory in his eyes.

"Throw her to the tree."

Harry's throat seized up, his body wracking to get out of the bonds.

Crabbe and Goyle strode forward and without any ceremony whatsoever, threw Hermione up into the air so that she flew up, then sailed right down into the tangled, sharp and vicious branches of the Whomping Willow. They did this as if they were throwing a wayward and annoying stray cat out the door of a city kitchen, and her pain-addled body was limp as she collapsed into the knot of branches.

Harry roared, no words for his rage and utter agony while the tree dealt with the already battered Hermione as it dealt with all things -- huge knobbly branches swinging with scratching angry little ones swiping madly. He watched every impact, every thump, whack and brutal pounding. He felt himself slowly growing numb to the world, watching her get spat out unceremoniously by the savage branches onto the grass, her body flopping about like a rag doll.

Draco turned his eyes to Harry, a smirk sliding across his face. He pulled his wand from his cloak, and pointed it to Harry. "Finite incantatem."

The ropes slid back into Draco Malfoy's wand, and at that Blaise and his friend threw Harry roughly to the ground.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Potter," said Malfoy, pocketing his wand and turning away. "The world hates a Mudblood."

Harry didn't see Malfoy, or the other students moving away, leaving their toppled and momentarily stunned comrades to the Scottish elements. All he saw was Hermione in a crumpled and unmoving heap.

He ran to her, rolling her onto her back, out of the twisted curl she had been in. Her face was scratched and one eye had swollen shut. He gasped, a vocal sob taking him. He cradled her cheek, shaking his head over and over, pulling her into his arms.


"No," he moaned, grief breaking his voice. "No, no, no, no..."

Slowly, her other eye blinked.

"Hermione!"

Her mouth edged open, and as it did, a trickle of blood spilled out. She coughed, a deep thick cough, her brow furrowing. He felt himself shudder, and he pulled her close, rocking back and forth and stroking her face.

"You'll be okay," he moaned, "You'll really be okay..."

The faintest of smiles fluttered across her bruised lips. Her brows tilted then, and she gave a tiny huff of effort. He frowned, trying to understand what she wanted to do. He then saw her trying to move her arm, her hand twitching, but it was broken. He took her hand, and she gave a small nod. He felt her shift her hand again, and he lifted the hand, moving it where her twitches directed him. She moaned a moment, and he was sure he'd hurt her.

"We'll get you to Pomfrey," he said, "I'll go-"

"Nnngh," she moaned. With a final burst of effort, she placed her hand on his cheek.

Her skin was so cold. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, his throat aching and on fire with sobs.

"You'll be okay, Hermione," he breathed, desperation filling his voice. "I just have to go get Pomfrey! And when you're better we'll show Malfoy, we'll-"

Her hand slipped from his face, and her unswollen eye became glassy, losing focus, drifting from his features. The hand dropped onto the ground, and her chest rattled one final time.

His mouth dropped open, his entire being clutched with a shock so deep he had barely known the like. His eyes searched her form, disbelieving, looking for any sign of life. He stared at her mouth, at her chest... there was no movement. He kept staring at her face as he scrabbled for a wrist... He kept pressing into the cooling flesh, kept searching for the pulse of life that never came.

There was no mistake to be made, no doubt to be had. From deep within him came a cry so unbidden, so filled with agony and grief that one would have easily mistaken it for the howl of an animal from the forest. He crushed her to his chest, burying his face in her hair, willing his warmth into her quickly cooling body.

"NO!" he whimpered. "No, Hermione... no... y-you can't... not my Hermione... please! Please! PLEASE!"

He collapsed over her, deep shaking sobs wracking his body. Pain took every part of him, his heart no longer there and an empty chasm in its place. He felt nothing now, he was no one and nobody, a hollow shell of a man, the other half of him lying dead in his arms.

He wanted to die too. He wanted to follow her, for there was nothing now.