Blood of My Blood

"Blood of my blood, breath of my breath,

Together in joy, sorrow, or death,

My spirit is with you and surrounds you like air.

Wherever you journey, I will be there."

~Dana Gioia, Nosferatu: An Opera Libretto

Chapter 7: My Spirit is with you and Surrounds You Like Air

October 24, 2003

Malfoy Manor...still.

Hermione snuggled down under the covers of her bed. She had spent the past couple of days pondering over what the Baron had told her, and the implications thereof. She pulled the cover over her head, not minding the near suffocating warmth. What was she going to do? She had successfully avoided Lucius (like the plague), which was not too hard since he seemed to be doing the same to her. Which was fine, she didn't really care if he though she was off her rocker. She had not seen ephemeral hide nor ectoplasm of the Baron, which in and of it's self was weird. He did leave her notes on her pillow every morning, so she knew he was about.

Seven more days. What was she going to do? Hermione felt like beating her head upon the wall. She didn't have the energy to curse the Baron. And really, he had given her ample warning. He had tried to give her the books nearly six years ago. It wasn't his fault that she was scared senseless and tried to dispose of them. She had the information at her fingertips, and yet she had not looked into it. Hermione rubbed her eyebrows. She couldn't hide here, under her covers, like a little child, until Samhain. Even if she wanted to it would not be wise, especially if she wanted to keep living.

With a new determination she threw back the covers and slid out of bed. She would just have to take her destiny into her own hands. It was obvious that no one else would, except possibly the Baron, and fond as she had grown of him she was not entirely sure that was a good idea.

No, she needed to do this herself. Hermione enumerated her problems in her head: 1. The Malfoy's. 2. The Spell. 3. The Severus problem. The first two were of the essence, and the last one could wait until the first two were solved, so she hoped. She walked across the room to the closet, and pulled out a new robe; so kind of Lucius to provide her with clothing. She smirked, knowing that he would not want a ragamuffin running around his house. She knew his kind. Beautiful things must dwell in beautiful surroundings. She smoothed the robe around her.

"Baron," she called softly.

"Yes." The blood scrawled across the air before he appeared.

She smiled. "Are you always so near?"

"What better way to keep mine safe."

Hermione ducked her head. "Do you think...do you think you could check on Severus?"

"The lad is fine, I assure you he is. I explained to him the whole situation, much as it pains me."

"And?"

The Baron grimaced. Looked down and brushed at his doublet. "He did not take it well. He in fact tried to come here, in hopes of rescuing you. The lad has gotten it into his head that you do not realize what kind of peril you are in."

Hermione snorted. "What stopped him?"

The Baron looked up, and around the room, gazing at anything but his descendent.

"You didn't hurt him did you?"

"It was just a tiny spell." The blood formed the sentence in miniscule letters, as if to emphasize just how small a spell.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. What kind of spell?

"Let's just say he is not going to wake up 'till after October 31."

"Oh, Baron. You didn't."

He shrugged. "He won't be any worse for wear. And I'm sure that he needed to catch up on sleep...he does see to miss quite a bit while he is teaching."

"You are improbable." She shook her head. "If you were living you would be dead when he woke up. It's not going to be pretty."

"Well, it is lucky for us that I am dead. And lucky for him that you will be there to soothe his frayed nerves when he awakes."

"That is not a done deal, my dear Baron."

"Perhaps I shall just walk away."

"You are not that kind of girl."

"Oh, I'm not am I? Did I not walk away when you tried to give me the book and the scroll in my seventh year?"

"Yes, you did, but you are here now. You are not one to abandon responsibility. You may initially flee, but you always return."

Hermoine looked up at the Baron, her features stark and sad.

"It is in your blood to be so." His hand skimmed down her cheek. "And if you do chose to go that route, well, Severus is a very lucky man. If only I could be that lucky."

A tear trickled down Hermione's cheek. "Thanks, Baron, just what I needed to know. Yes, I always though it would be nice if a dead relative lusted after me." She hiccupped and another tear joined the first. "Why does everything have to be this way? Why can't it just go back to the way it was before?"

"Is that really what you want, Hermione?"

"No. Never. But it needed to be said."

"Yes, I am sure it did, dear."

~*~

October 25, 2003

A little after midnight...

Hermione paced the room before going back to her desk and looking at the book. Hermione frowned. She now knew what to do. The question was...not so much if she could do it...but if she could live with the blood on her hands. She shut the book with a loud thunk.

Yes. Yes, she could.

Hermione smiled; the first true smile in weeks.

Just six more days...and then the rest of her life.

~*~