Forever Knight [Harmione]

Chapter 35: Provocation

“Hermione?”

Her skin glowed like pale moon in the darkness of the room, her eyes rings of amber and brown.  He could see her fangs peeking from her lips.  Tears spilled from her eyes, the miserable resignation clear in her expression. 

“I can’t let you die,” she whispered, her body still and unmoving.  “Do you understand me, Harry?  I can’t let you die.”

He frowned, trying to reach her.  He can’t, but he wanted so much to offer her comfort.  “It’s going to be alright.  It’s going to be fine.”

“It won’t be.”  It sounded so definite that Harry felt his stomach knot.

Behind her, from the darkness, another figure emerged.  It was pale like her, but taller, and older.  His dark hair bled into the black, and when he smiled, his eyes lit like glinting gold. 

Janus.

Harry began to walk towards them, his brisk steps became a desperate run.  He couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard he tried.

Janus’s arm snaked around Hermione’s shoulders possessively.  “Mine to make.  Mine to take.”

“Get away from her!”

Hermione’s tears continued to spill.  The gentle caress of Janus’s fingers through her hair coiled Harry’s insides.

Janus pushed her hair back, and he slid his arm away from her, only to rest his hand on her shoulder and push her to her knees.  She complied without resistance. 

Harry shook his head.  He’d seen this one before.  He knew what was going to come next.

Hermione closed her eyes as the silvery flash of sword disturbed the ominous darkness.

Harry cried for her, pleading her to run; to fight; anything but surrender, but she wasn’t listening, or maybe she couldn’t hear him, and all he could do was watch in horror as Janus swung his sword towards Hermione’s neck.

Harry screamed in pure grief as she toppled lifelessly to the ground, her head severed from her body.

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“Harry, wake up!”

Harry’s eyes flew open, his mouth open in a silent scream, heart hammering at an impossible rate.  Everything was a blur, he could barely see anything, but he was acutely aware that his chest was heaving, and that his body was covered in cold sweat.  He gasped in panic.  “Hermio—!”

“It’s alright! I’m here!” Her voice was a bit pitched, as if she’d been saying it over and over again, and that she just needed for him to hear it.  “Harry, it’s alright!”

He reached for the blur that was her hair, and his fingers trembled as he ran them through the locks and strands.  He was taking gulps of air as he did it, and he focused on making himself believe that this was real; that she was alive.

She must have sensed that need, because she hushed him softly, her light kisses meant to reassure. 

Gradually, he calmed down, and he remembered that they were both in bed, still naked from having made love.

Her palm rested comfortably on his cheek; her breasts pressed intimately on his chest.  

“It was just a bad dream,” she whispered.  “Just a bad dream, Harry.  Hush now… it’s alright.”

He was still breathing through his lips, but her voice was soothing, and he could feel the tension leaving his muscles. 

He swallowed, and his throat felt dry.  It was the second time the nightmare had come to him; the second time he woke up screaming.  The first time had been last night, and Hermione hadn’t been with him.