Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 28: Revelations

There were times in Hermione’s vampiric life when she desperately wished she could just faint daintily away and escape the horrible realities of certain situations.  Like this one, for example. 

She was helpless, watching as Lucien, her dear Shadow Kin, suffered agonizing pain before her very eyes, and Harry, the man she loved with everything she had, was jumping into mortal peril. 

But of course, vampire or human, she was never a swooner, and so she was wide-awake, seeing all that was happening in slow, agonizing detail. 

When Harry took the staff from Lucien’s hands and Lucien fell to the ground, apparently alive, she told herself Lucien was going to be alright, even if her every impulse was to weep and rage at his evidential pain.

He’ll make it.  He’ll be alright.  That’s what’s important.

And the staff, seemingly reticent in Harry’s grip, actually looked as if Harry’s touch had neutralized it.  For the briefest moment, Hermione had felt immense relief, but then Harry’s scar began to glow bright purple, and her fear swallowed her like a tsunami.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!

She must have shrieked his name, the sound of her voice bleeding into the shouts of Ron and Solomon.

The magically lit torch-flames illuminating the dungeons danced erratically at the blast of chilling air that shot through the chamber. 

Hermione could barely hear anything but the roaring wind; could barely see through the whipping of her hair. 

There was an explosion, like a flash of red and blue lightning, and the pealing crack of thunder, just before she saw Harry flying backwards in one direction while the staff flew in another. 

He was going to hit the stonewall and she screamed, furious and frustrated at her own helplessness. 

“Delenio!” Ron cried, throwing a spell right where Harry was expected to connect with the wall.

The cushioning charm hit just before Harry slammed into the wall. Most of his body still hit hard ancient rock, but Ron had managed to cushion the back of Harry’s head.  At the very least, Harry hadn’t cracked his skull.

If he’s even alive… OH GOD!

“Solomon, take these binding charms off me now!” she yelled.

Solomon calmly released her. 

Struggling to get up, she fought to center herself, scrambling in Harry’s direction just before guilt flared.  “Luc—“

“I’ll see to him,” Solomon said. “He’s alive and he’ll be fine.  Go to Harry.  Go!”

Thanking whatever God had blessed her with friends like Solomon, she rushed to Harry’s side where Ron had just finished checking him. 

“He’s alive,” Ron said.

She could have thrown her arms around Ron and kissed him speechless.  The man had saved Harry’s life with a spell she couldn’t have cast any better.    

Her relief was great, but brief.  Panicked thoughts began to assault her: She should have been more alert; she shouldn’t have given Harry the chance to bolt; she shouldn’t have taken blood from him the previous night; she should have been faster… but she stamped these thoughts back, trying to focus on the situation. 

Resisting the urge to gather Harry in her arms and cry her heart out, she delicately removed his sticky-charmed glasses, pocketed the spectacles and pulled his eyelid up to check his pupils.  She held up her wand, cast a mild Lumos and held it to his eye. His pupils contracted very slowly, which was disturbing, but also encouraging. At that point, she was willing to take anything and work on building upon it.