Clairvoyance and its Consequences

Chapter 9_______________________________________________________________

The week following Draco's revelation was a hectic one. Dumbledore and some other members of the staff visited the quarters every few hours and many times the occupants were greeted with unfriendly news. Harry was still, unfortunately, unconscious in the hospital wing while many new arrangements had been taken into order and Hermione was on a very, very close watch at all times. None of these new arrangements, however, had been guaranteed to keep Hermione from being transported by Portkey to the unknown "paddock" as it was always referred to.

"What I want to know is where this paddock actually is," Ron said one afternoon after Professor McGonagall had left, "and why You-Know-Who is hanging out there."

"My belief is - and I've passed my thoughts of it on to Dumbledore - that the paddock I've seen is actually the so-called 'Land of No Horizon'," Hermione said, rather uncertain.

"The Land of - what now?" Ron asked, looking extremely confused, mirroring the way the rest of the people in the room (minus Hermione and Draco) were feeling.

"The Land of No Horizon," Hermione repeated vaguely. Everyone still looked confused and she decided to elaborate. "From what I've read in books, the Land of No Horizon refers to the land in which the castle of Salazar Slytherin and his following ancestors once stood. This land is situated on top of a small hill somewhere in Scotland and has been labeled by many as the Darkest place on Earth. Strange and mysterious things happened in the time that the castle stood. Travelers, Dark-researching wizards perhaps, would go to the site to study and never return for reasons unknown, even when the castle was believed deserted. However, some twenty years ago, an un-loyal Death Eater came across the journal of one Richard Hanlon, a Muggle on holiday from Ireland. On his final page, he gave an account about the fact that from where he stood, no horizon was visible, all was gloomily dark around the skies for the whole day. He described the image around him and the feelings within him as scarily surreal. It's been called the Land of No Horizon since."

A thick silence followed Hermione's explanation. Looking around, everyone was expressing their thoughts of it in different, mute, ways. Ron was frowning and still looking thoroughly confused. Ginny had her hands in her lap and was staring at them absently in thought. Luna was looking her usual self - permanently surprised and, strangely at the same time, as though she hadn't be listening. Neville seemed to be having fearful images of such a place as the Land and Draco looked bored.

"So ... So this place..." Ron said, breaking the silence, "...it's like haunted or something?"

"Well, no one knows," Hermione replied. "No record was ever made. The darkness Hanlon saw was believed to be the effects of all the Dark magic that surrounded the Land. They also believe this is the reason why the horizon isn't exactly visible..."

"How does a place have no horizon?" Ginny asked, looking at her. "I mean, it doesn't make sense. No place could lack a horizon."

"It's not that it doesn't have a horizon, Ginny," Hermione said, frowning slightly, "it's just that the darkness that Hanlon described in his journal somehow makes it invisible to the eye, sending eerie theories and beliefs around."

Neville gave a small squeak and shivered slightly.

> * <

The water was warm and the bubbles soft as Hermione sat down in the bath, feeling a refreshing sensation run through her. She was tired and rather stressed and had been yearning for a nice, relaxing bath since she'd left her last lesson some five hours ago.

It seemed strange to her that she suddenly didn't look forward to getting out all her books and studying for hours at a time but it was true. Every hour of the last week she had either been pouring over volumes upon volumes of books, revising for her NEWTs which were three months away or worrying about Voldemort and the roughly-known future both her and Draco were being carried into. Even now, as she relaxed into the warmth of the bath she had been yearning for so much, she found it hard to forget the fact that Harry was lying in a strange unconscious wake while they were getting no nearer to preventing the Dark Lord's capture of her.

Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix were of course working hard to prevent Voldemort's plan, but it had settled in Hermione's brain as impossible. She was going to have to let Voldemort get her and lure Draco into his possession. Hermione had, as scary as such a thought occurred to her, become used to thinking this was likely.

Hermione spent over an hour in the bath that night, going over all her thoughts and fears, revisiting her dreams one-by-one and trying to uncover some form of clue that she might have missed in the past. However, like all her previous attempts, she found nothing that was overly significant or perhaps gave her a clue on how to prevent destiny from happening. As she drained the bath with a flick of her wand and placed a towel around her naked and wet body, she felt somewhat helpless and lost much against her will.

Barely aware of herself as she exited the girls' bathroom, she didn't notice Draco exit the boys' only moments after she made to ascend the stairs to her room, the towel still tied neatly around her damp body. She headed up and into her, Ginny and Luna's room and was just about to let go of the fluffy white material when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Hermione called, looking around as the door opened slightly and Draco looked in, making sure it was only Hermione in the room.

"Me," he said, stepping in and walking casually towards her. Hermione couldn't help but take in the fact that the only garment he wore was a towel like her own, tied loosely around his hips, naughtily showing a line of blonde hair descending from his belly button and a tiny scar he had received from a serpent's fangs on his toned stomach. His silver-blonde hair hung loose and wet around his eyes, which were a stormy grey colour that Hermione was all too familiar with.

Draco came to stand about a foot away from her, which made it only too easy for Hermione to become mesmerised by the small droplets of water ran trickled down the smooth surface of his chest.

"You've been distant lately," Draco said softly, running his fingers through his hair absently.

Hermione swallowed, her breath catching in her throat. It was amazing that after everything she and Draco had done, every kiss they'd shared, every night they'd spent together, he still had the power to make her knees go weak just by looking at her in the way he was at the moment. No doubt surrounded the fact that he was very sexy, even if Hermione would never admit it aloud, as it would be very uncharacteristic of her to do so.

She lifted a hand and ran it steadily across his chest, taking in the familiar texture of it, every dent and every muscle. Draco gave an intake of breath and the next thing Hermione knew was that he was kissing her - not softly but fiercely and full of passion and hunger. A guilty twinge rose in Hermione as she realised how deprived he must have felt. For the last couple of weeks, they'd hardly had any time alone. The entirety of the time had been taken up with worries, school and exhausted sleep.

Reaching up, Hermione brought the hand on his chest up and around his neck, pulling him closer, the other teasing the skin just above where the towel sat. A small, muffled moan escaped his throat in her doing so and Hermione had to admit she had missed having time alone with him as well.

Draco's hungry kisses were becoming, if possible, fiercer and Hermione didn't dare stop him as he blindly played with the knot holding her towel in place. He was about to be rewarded with it breaking loose when the door opened.

"Oh, please, you two!" Ginny cried, raising a hand and holding it in front of her face and she looked away. "Seriously, if you're going to do that could you please do it in a room in which other people don't sleep! Ugh!" And she left, slamming the door behind her and loudly exclaiming about indecent display of affection.

"Great timing, Weasley," Draco said through clenched teeth, frustrated. He reluctantly let go of Hermione and her towel fell aimlessly to the floor as he headed to the door. Opening it, he turned back around, smiling as Hermione stood there before him, naked and looking rather lost. "Maybe we can finish this some other time."

Hermione watched, deflated, as he walked out of the room, closing the door softly in his process.

"Yeah," Hermione said softly to the empty room around her, "let's just hope we're both still alive when that 'some other time' comes around..."

> * <

Saturday morning rose with ambition for Hermione. Although she still had a great amount of work to do, she had promised herself not to get too worked up in it. In fact, she had decided that she would take the entire morning off from schoolwork and do one of the things she had meaning to do for quite a while: visit Harry in the hospital wing.

She knew it was rather useless as Harry wouldn't be aware of her presence but she also knew that she would feel guilty if he woke and she hadn't spent a single minute by his bedside. After all, he and Ron had visited her back in her second year when she had been petrified.

Getting up and dressed, Hermione headed down to the Great Hall with Draco and ate breakfast with him at the Gryffindor table (ignoring the foul looks the rest of the Gryffindors sent Draco's way) before biding him goodbye in the Entrance Hall. Draco had decided to spend some time flying, much to her encouragement and she had promised to go and see him once she was done "practicing the Patronus Charm" (she had decided not to reveal her real intention to Draco for obvious reasons).

Heading down the corridor towards the hospital wing, she stopped at the door and knocked twice before Madam Pomfrey opened it and let her in. The room was brilliantly lit and the majority of the many beds were empty. A small boy with light brown hair sat in a bed at the very end of the long room; his leg was covered in what appeared to be massive pink boils. Hermione, looking away, was pleased to see Harry's bed was nowhere near the boy.

Heading over to Harry's bed placed so deliberately in front one of the ceiling high windows, she sat down in the chair that was seated by his beside table.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said sadly, looking at Harry's unconscious figure which was so still and pale it wouldn't be hard to tell if he were alive or dead. "I don't know how you stand it - knowing Voldemort's after you and not knowing when he might strike."

Hermione scooted her chair closer to his bed, staring down at her best friend's face and wishing more than ever that he was awake and able to reply. She was sure Harry would have some comforting words to spare her, even with Voldemort's ultimate plan being to get his hands on Harry.

"I don't know what to think or believe anymore," Hermione continued quietly, not really understanding why she was bothering to have a conversation with a boy who was oblivious to the world around him. "It's frightening to think that I might go to sleep tonight and then wake up in Voldemort's midst and then have Draco turn up and then leave me to wait until you wake and for Draco to return. I don't even want to imagine what Voldemort's going to do to him; we can only guess. Make him spy against Draco's will ismost likely."

Hermione let out a sob at the silence that followed each and every one of her words. "How did this happen?" she asked in a tone much more desperate than the one she had previously used. "How did Voldemort suddenly gain a power to put you in this state? You're the hero, you're not supposed to be able to let the enemy work his plans unbeknownst to you!"

This last sentence left Hermione's lips without her making any sense of it. She frowned, thinking of her words and realised they were releasing some sort of desperate helplessness that she hadn't known was in her. It was true, she had learned to believe that when it came to Voldemort, Harry would always be there.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said dramatically, falling to her knees on the floor and placing a hand in his, held so limply at his side, "if only you could speak! Maybe you would be able to help me find a way of preventing Voldemort's capture of me or at least have him not capture me alone -"

A gasp escaped Hermione's lips and she stared at his hand that she had immediately let go of. Moments ago, just before she had broken off from her speech, she had felt a distantly familiar surge of heat from his hand and it struck her as quite strange. Surely not another ... it had been his scar last time ... his scar was more appropriate and...

Hermione hesitated before placing her hand back in his, which seared with heat. This time, however, it wasn't images that filled her head, it was more like a voice filling her ears ... Harry's voice.

"Hermione, please, do this for me: Don't sleep alone at night; sleep in Malfoy's bed or Ron's. Just don't sleep alone. If he's going to take you, I don't want him taking you alone."

Hermione let go of Harry's hand as his voice died away and stood up, staring at Harry's figure. He had not moved an inch since she arrived and his lips hadn't become unsealed. But how, how had she suddenly heard him answering her question? Was this some new effect of her gift or was this some new power Harry himself possessed?

Hermione's breath was coming out hard and fast and she felt almost frightened by what had just happened. She backed away several steps, almost tripping over the chair as she stared at Harry, lost in thought of what had just happened. Turning around, she made to run from the room and find Draco, or Dumbledore or someone that might be able to explain this new experience to her, but she found herself turning right into Draco's arms. He looked at her face, showing confusion and fear and immediately made to guide her out of the room.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why are you looking all frightened and jumpy?"

Hermione looked at him hesitantly before slowly telling him what happened. They had reached the common room by the time they had finished and, sitting down on the couch together, Draco looked no more than curious.

"How could Potter know about the Dark Lord's plan, anyway?" he asked. "He's unconscious; I highly doubt he was able to hear you and - well - you didn't say anything about our suspicion about the Portkey..."

"But maybe he's not unconscious," Hermione said, suddenly struck with curiosity herself, "maybe Voldemort's put him into a state that is in between awake and asleep. He's awake but is unable to do anything to show it and just looks like he's unconscious or asleep."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione, noticing, by the look on her face, that even she was confused by her own words and thoughts.

"What I don't get," Draco said thoughtfully after a moments of silence, "is why the Dark Lord needs you and me in the first place. If he is planning this Portkey theory, why can't he just transport Potter straight to him?"

"Because Dumbledore has ensured, with numerous charms and Binding spells, that Harry is basically bound to Hogwarts unless it's in his own choice to leave," Hermione replied. "When Voldemort was after Harry last year, Dumbledore thought it wise to make arrangements like that. He knows, just like everyone else, that Voldemort is an extremely powerful wizard and that he might be able to find a way of capturing Harry without having to enter the castle or send visions to Harry's mind to trick Harry like he did in our fifth year."

"Why can't Dumbledore Bind you to the castle, then?" Draco asked.

Hermione sighed. "We haven't got the time. He could try but it might take months until it's at a successful strength. Binding like this is an extremely complex magic, Draco and to Bind someone to something as large as Hogwarts - the castle, the lake, the grounds - is overwhelmingly complex, even for a wizard like Dumbledore. It took two months for him to Bind Harry it'll take the same to Bind me."

A silence filled the room while Draco frowned in thought. "It looks like there's only one thing we can do then, Hermione," he said eventually, "and that's to follow Potter's ... advice - you're sleeping with me tonight."

"Such a dreadful idea, that is! Honestly, how am I going to cope with it?" Hermione said sardonically. "Sleeping in the same bed as you ... so close I feel you breathing against my ear... it'll be the most dreadful experience of my life..."

Draco smirked and Hermione laughed slightly. "Yes, so dreadful," Draco said. "Think of what we could do..."

Hermione smiled and kissed him, trying, for now, to forget everything Voldemort might be planning to do in the very near future.

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