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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
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A/N:
THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE IS ONLY FOR THOSE ON CHAPTER ALERT.
Okay, I know you'll hate me for this, but it's quite inevitable. Please don't close this window and bear with me.
I'm sure you know that I took a long break from writing this story. I spent much time coming up with another plot for Caught in the Past, but I didn't have the heart to change it.
Now, here's the part where I believe you would say "NOT AGAIN!"
I need you to go back to Chapter 16. This is for the simple reason that I have posted two chapters today, 16 and 17. But because I only replaced chapter 16, no chapter alerts had been sent since they were already sent for the original one I posted. Got me so far?
Reading this chapter would be quite confusing if you don't read the previous one. This goes out particularly to those who have no idea that I have already posted some chapters before but removed them afterwards.
It isn't much different in essence, but the dialogue, I believe is different. The better news is, I have added more to what you have read before, and so you would be reading more parts that are not familiar to you.
Trust me on this one. It'd be better if you read it.
Well, whatever you choose, I hope that you won't get fed up reading.
Thanks so much and enjoy!
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She was running…
The smell of fear close behind.
She was not known to cry, even when desperate measures called for it. There had been times, yes, when all she could do was curl up into a ball and let out all her frustrations. But never had she bawled out what was left of her pride. If she had to let tears come, she let them fall silently.
Looking back was not an option.
What for should she risk it?
She knew what she would see.
She had never felt more desperate. The little spark of hope that had been inside her was doused long ago.
No one would come for her.
No one.
She had made sure none knew of her departure.
And, what a fool she had been!
At first, she tried to tell herself that she was just unnerved from leaving. She refused to believe anything else because she did not want to admit just yet that she had failed herself.
The first tug of nerves warned her before she'd boarded the carriage bound for her home. But it wasn't until she had noticed that there was something vaguely odd about how her coachman was handling the horses that she began to heed the warning bells inside her head.
For one thing, they seemed to have taken a route that neither interested nor alarmed Hermione until that very moment. And another, they seemed to be moving in a distressing pace, something that she knew was foreign to the coachman their family had employed many years ago.
She remembered looking back and feeling a sharp prickle at the nape of her neck when she could no longer see Sirius' mansion, or estate. All that she had seen were dark trees looming above them and the moon waning lightly in the sky. Clouds had then amassed, touching the edges of the moon.
No sooner than she could make out its state when rain had began to pour earnestly. Escape had become harder, but panic was the last thing Hermione had let herself feel at that moment.
After taking a few deep breaths, she was able to get herself together. She had no idea where she was, but there was a village just beside the road they had been taking. She had thought that if she figured out how to get out of the carriage, she could make her way towards the village and ask for somebody's help.
With that thought keeping her sanity, she had opened the carriage door and jumped.
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Harry had ridden like a madman before, but never had he felt possessed the way he did now. It was as if his body wasn't his own as he tried with every might to increase his speed, despite the fact that Hedwig had already reached her limit.
He admired her perseverance and her loyalty. She had not complained yet of the breakneck pace her master had initiated the moment he had mounted her.
And for that, Harry could have not asked for anything more.
But as the sky earnestly showered him with rain of a blinding force, he silently prayed that some miracle would happen, and he would find Hermione in her carriage, safe and sound.
If his instincts were wrong and all of this was merely a misunderstanding, he wouldn't blame anyone.
He would have given up everything just to be wrong for once. But somehow, at the back of his mind, he knew that his instincts would not fail him.
It never had, not even once.
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She was exhausted, her chest heaving from the exertion that her lungs were giving to provide her enough air. Her breath was coming in short gasps. She was no longer quiet now, not caring that they would hear.
They were coming anyway.
What use was it to keep quiet?
She dropped down on her knees, overwhelmed by exhaustion, by fear, and by helplessness.
Without anywhere else to go, she couldn't do anything but stay still.
"Where are ye, missy?"
Someone asked from behind.
It was all out of mockery.
She was in plain sight.
The field she was in was bare of anything. There was a forest that loomed near, but she doubted she would be safe there. Wild animals roamed freely and there was no point running away from these mad men if she would only be caught by some beast.
"That's right, m'dear," one of them sneered, his footsteps drawing near, the sound of wet grass squished beneath walking feet made Hermione's heart beat. "You'll only tire yourself runnin'."
Hermione tried to move, but gasped when pain like no other hit her like a thousand knives. Instinctively, her hand crept toward her ankle. She'd broken it when she had jumped from the carriage earlier.
Even though she knew of the injury, she couldn't afford to nurse it. She had just ran towards the village, with the simple purpose of hiding from her abductor, or as she found out a little later, abductors.
But she had known, as soon as she got close enough to see what kind of place she wanted to seek haven from, that she was not going to be safer here nor anywhere.
The village was dark and broody.
No sight of anyone could be found, as if the whole village was deserted. There were upturned cans full of garbage that reeked of dirt and spoiled food. The houses were dilapidated, falling down, with doors broken or unhinged.
It was unlike anything she had seen before.
And she would have continued to believe that the place was abandoned had it not been for a light coming from an inn.
In an ordinary day and place, she wouldn't have thought twice before knocking. But because she was in a place that seemed unworthy of trust, she had chosen not to disturb anybody and just ventured on her own.
For half an hour, she had been at peace, seated inside a broken carriage. Except for the dull throbbing on her ankle, she had begun to believe she was fine. She planned to wait the night out and in the morning, seek help from people who were sober enough to offer a ride back to Sirius' mansion.
But no sooner could she breathe more freely when she had heard two men talking, their footsteps heavy but hasty. She slumped with caution onto the floor of her hideout and listened, her breaths soft but labored, her eyes squinting to see through a small hole on the side.
"She ain't got no place to hide here," a big man with bulging muscles and a scarred face looked down at the thinner man beside him.
Hermione had seen the other one nod his head. "The others are searchin' for her. She couldna have gotten far."
"That so?"
The other one had the nerve to chuckle. "With a jump like that, it's a miracle she dinna faint."
Hermione didn't really expect that she'd escaped that easily, but something in her hoped that she had. But having heard of their active searching, she had immediately made up her mind to leave as soon as they were out of sight.
The task didn't prove to be as easy as she had thought because her ankle waylaid her even before she could get very far. She had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that staying put would eventually lead them to her.
But somewhere along the way, her ankle gave beneath her and she had let out a yell of surprise.
And then if that was not the worse thing that could happen she heard footsteps drawing near and shouts of men echoing from a distance.
That was when she knew it was either she faced them now or try running away but still face them later.
Stubbornness and pride had gotten her on her feet despite the protests of her injury and she took off into the direction of the woods.
What she didn't count on was that they would reach her in such a short time. She had no clue why they were chasing her, but she recognized the malicious gleam in their eyes as they approached.
Oh God.
Help me.
Anyone.
The men laughed, as if hearing her thoughts.
She could smell their filth and their dirty intentions now as they drew nearer and nearer. Hermione forced herself to stop crying. Pride overruled her fear. She didn't want them to see her beyond herself and desperate.
No.
If she were going to fall in their hands, the least she could do was fall with dignity!
"W-what do you want?" she managed to say, although her voice quavered. They were around her now, trapping her. Their shadows cast a frightful image, making the hair at her nape stand.
"Scared yet, countess?" one of them asked.
She didn't want to answer, terrified that when they hear her voice, they would only know she was. She was swallowing down her tears, but she knew it was only a matter of time that they would begin to fall all on their own.
"S'matter, princess? We too smutty for ya?" the other one, whom she recognized as one of the two she had seen and heard earlier, leaned close to her ear. She almost gagged by his foul breath, but shivered involuntarily instead.
What were they doing? She couldn't help but wonder. Why were they taunting her and not finishing whatever they came to do?
She dared look up, if only to see how dangerous they may be. What she saw shouldn't have been much, but with the combination of their dark faces and leering gazes, it had been enough to send trembles all over her body.
"What do you want?!" she shouted it this time, hoping that the force of her voice would carry the nerves out of her system.
A sudden clap of thunder echoed across the field, reverberating in her ear, causing her to jump in surprise. They laughed. And now they knew.
"Now lass, dinna worry. We won' be harmin' ye."
"Get away from me, you filthy, disgusting, excuse for a human!" she exclaimed.
Crack!
She staggered onto the ground, her cheeks stinging at the place where his palm had landed hard. But even with the pain, she whipped her head about and opened her mouth, only to shut them again when this time, his hit had her tasting blood from the corner of her lips.
"Still wanting more, do ya?"
His face may have still been pleasant, but the way he spoke carried an all-too-familiar tone that told Hermione her ordeal was far from over.
She knew it had barely even begun.
She didn't make a sound anymore.
She just waited, taking in deep breaths, her eyes shut tightly.
"Don't waste such pretty face, boy," someone had obviously leaned close enough to her face because she could feel his breath against her as he spoke. "Shame, it is, we can't have our way with you."
She felt something, a finger, glide across her face, a slow torture that wrung a sob out her.
They burst into snickers, enjoying her display of desperation.
There was a moment of silence. The only sound that could be heard was that of the rain still tapping against the ground and on her. The coolness of the water doing nothing to compose her; on the contrary, it added even more to the chill that was running a course throughout her body.
"Lads, the lord dinna mention we couldn't have fun, did he?"
Before it could register in her mind what they were on about, there were murmurs of approval around her, sniggers of appreciation, and then two hands grasping her arms, pulling her upright. She winced the moment her feet carried her weight, and because her ankle could no longer bear the burden, she helplessly sagged onto one the men who caught her by the shoulders in a grip so tight she cried out in pain.
Why had this happened to her? She thought as she gasped for air, the throbbing pain she was feeling coming from everywhere, nearly rendering her unconscious.
Help.
Her feeble mind couldn't help but reiterate over and over again.
Harry.
This time, she blinked in surprise.
His image flashing across her mind as if he'd been there all along, her desire for a savior providing her that very face she had intended to run away from.
Despite her circumstances, she couldn't help but think of where he could be this moment. Did he even know she was gone? How would he react once the news of her body found somewhere reached him?
She let out a groan.
All she wanted was to get away in peace and to live the life that she craved, free of worry, unbound from the responsibility that was thrown over her shoulders.
She never intended for things to get out of hand with him, but they had. And the only way she could solve her problem was to leave. But even when she had constantly told herself how she loathed him, it was he whom she was looking for.
After all her bravado of being independent, how could she have been reduced to such a…a…needy and spineless woman?
The one holding her upright leaned close, sniffing her hair as if he were a dog testing the scent of a meal he was about to devour. She struggled out of his hold, but the more she fought, the harder his hands gripped her arms.
The feel of something slobbery and thick on her cheek had Hermione's eyes widening in shock.
Oh God!
She didn't think she could take any more of his assault without fainting, but when he moved to touch her breast, she couldn't tear her eyes away. Her stance was still and her face rigid.
She didn't know what was worse: the fact that she was being molested without any sign of help near, or that she was just standing there frozen and doing nothing.
The fighter in her was slowly dying but she wasn't about to let it slip without one last attempt to redeem itself. She clenched her fists together as tightly as she could and prepared to attack before he could touch her any further, but her revenge was cut short when another man suddenly yanked her away from the filthy scumbag who had her pinned against him.
"Stop hoggin'," he said, clutching her to him only to toss her to another man immediately. She barely had the time to wonder why because no sooner than she could form a coherent thought when his voice penetrated through her ears, silencing all other sounds. "Hold her still, Lou, while I get her out of those frocks. Seems to me she's a little overdressed for the occasion."
Hermione's heart leapt at her throat. Her heart thumped madly as her brain gave a jolt of electricity that had her speaking before thinking.
"Please…don't."
Her pathetic attempt to plead out of her peril was not only unheard but lost the moment the sound of ripping cloth wrung out across the field. It was an obscene sound; a sound that tore wild sobs out of her.
The gown she had been wearing gave a soft flop when the one who tore it off tossed it aside.
Clad now only in her chemise, Hermione felt the cold air beating against her. Water dripped all over her body, the thin cloth barely doing anything to cover her now.
Harry.
Again, his name sounded in her ear.
She couldn't help herself.
After all the times that he had been there when she didn't want him, how could he not be here now when she needed
him the most?
Yes, she needed him.
Now more than ever.
She didn't know how it happened, or whether it was justifiable that it did. She just knew she could no longer deny the fact that with Harry, she was safer.
"No one's here to save you, lass," her assaulter said.
She didn't know she had spoken Harry's name out loud, but she had. It didn't feel good or bad that she did. All that she knew was that it was he whom she was thinking of.
She was openly crying now, not knowing what to do. Her struggles were futile, her words were there, but she had no more strength to cry out.
She wanted to die.
To be saved by death and finally escape everything.
But even death had no mercy.
Even when she was all but begging to be killed, she still breathed.
She knew she should still be fighting, knew in her heart that she still could. But the hopelessness in her situation was no longer conquerable and she gave in to her fate with a sob that clenched her heart.
She turned her face away as the man pushed her to the ground, the force sending her in a haze. She looked up, mustered all the strength left in her and gave one last cry. "Damn you to hell! Do you hear me, you bastards?! Damn----"
And everything went black.
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Dark.
It was all so very dark.
And quiet.
Was she alone?
Perhaps.
Was she even alive?
She hoped not.
There was nothing but coldness surrounding her, yet naturally enough, she felt nothing. Her mind had gone numb, and so had the rest of her body. Not even her heart could feel anything. Was this how it felt to be nothing more than just a spirit?
It was depressing.
"Hey."
Hermione stirred slightly, frowning inwardly.
There was a voice calling her, but she didn't know where it was coming from. She knew she should open her eyes, but she felt weak, so weak that she could not even move at all.
Where had it come from?
Was that a human voice?
Or was she hearing the voices of the spirits, who like her, were now lost and waiting?
"Hermione."
There it was again.
Somewhere, hovering above her.
She wanted nothing more than to see who it was but at the same time, there was a feeling of dread surrounding her.
Perhaps, it was not wise to go back.
Go back where?
Where was she anyway?
"'Mione."
An abrupt flash of a face came before her, gone before she could actually get a clearer view.
But it lingered long enough to remind her of somebody.
She stilled.
"Come on, sweetheart."
That voice…
She knew that voice.
"Wake up for me…"
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Harry didn't know he was holding his breath until he saw Hermione's eyes slowly flutter. He couldn't seem to stop shaking even when he knew that she was all right.
"Harry?" she croaked out, her voice barely making an audible sound.
Before he could respond to her obvious distress, Hermione's eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. Harry felt fury like no other rise in his throat as he watched her struggle to contain her feelings and then lose.
"Shh," he crooned, trying to silence her, every sob tearing him apart.
He shifted his arm that she was anchored comfortably on it. His thumb grazed her cheeks, caressing and catching the tears falling down on them.
They sat there, neither knew for how long, until Hermione's tears begin to subside.
"Are you ready to go home now?" he asked afterwards, looking into her eyes.
Embarrassment and shame slowly crept to Hermione and she found herself unable to maintain eye contact. She gave the barest of nods before struggling, despite the difficulty, to stand on her own. It was only then did she notice that she was wearing his coat.
Harry let her move out of his arms but frowned in concern when she winced and swayed the moment she tried to stand upright. He was aware that she was exhausted, but there was no mistaking the look of pain in her face or in her eyes for that matter.
"You hurt yourself," he told her, not really needing the confirmation.
"I broke my ankle," Hermione managed to say above the different curses she wanted to exclaim. She didn't think the pain would be worse than before, but she was wrong.
At this, Harry did not bend down to look at the damage. He simply closed the distance between them and lifted her into his arms.
Hermione didn't say a single word of protest.
She had chosen to remain silent partly because she didn't think it wise to complain, but mostly because she had just noticed what was around them and was taken aback.
A sick feeling came over her when she made out one by one the bodies of her attackers lying like slaughtered animals around them.
There were six corpses sprawled in every direction…
All of whom had attempted to assault her were accounted for.
She couldn't believe it.
He had come for her.
And had killed these men for her.
She didn't need to ask what happened, nor did she have the slightest disdain over Harry putting to use his assassin's skills.
Instead, she felt a sense of relief overwhelm her, and for the first time…
Gratitude.
Not because he had used it to rescue her…
No…
She wasn't that shallow.
She was thankful that he had used it to get rid of those who had thought they could get away with evil.
Perhaps it was this point that he was trying to make during the conversations that they had in the sennight that passed. He had been constantly defending himself to her, saying that he was not a murderer, but only a defender.
She had only been too blind by her prejudiced opinions on him to see what was in front of her.
But that was then…
No cloud of confusion and hatred was hanging over her now.
"Thank you," she said earnestly, not exactly knowing how to repay him for this.
He nodded, not saying anything at all as he carried her away from the field.
His sudden passiveness unnerved her, but she didn't let herself be offended.
After all, he was her savior. He had answered to her call despite the odds that he would have heard it. She could only be thankful for that.
The walk back towards the main road was awkward, but she had a feeling they both welcomed the silence. She didn't particularly care why he thought of it that way, but for her; it gave her the time to think of what should be her next course of action.
She still couldn't quite get over the fact that she had almost been raped tonight. Just the thought had her eyes cloudy with tears. She blinked them away and took deep breaths.
This was not what she was hoping for when she came back to England.
But it was her fault that she had let herself forget that people were still after her title and her land.
Even after tonight, she knew that her life would still be in danger. Whoever those people were, they were working for somebody. And even if it weren't who she believed it was, that didn't make the situation any better.
How much more attempts would befall upon her?
And how much torture would she be able to handle before finally giving up the freedom she had struggled to keep?
And if these occurred, would Harry still be there to save her?
She sneaked a glance at him. He was frowning, his jaw tight with tension. He was working his way to his anger. She couldn't blame him.
She'd inconvenienced him tonight, and so many other nights as well. He had constantly put up with her tirades and she'd done nothing but foist her hatred onto him.
She'd been calling him a murderer all this time, but it had been she who had constantly put his life on the line.
But all this anger in him could not be dangerous, she thought, not with the way he's holding me. She sighed. It's as if he doesn't want to let go.
The thought warmed Hermione and she gave another soft sigh, and then had to force the smile away from her face, and her eyes away from him, when Harry's looked down.
She didn't need to think of a distraction because right at that moment, Hedwig's white form proved enough diversion for Hermione.
"Can she carry the two of us?" she asked, out of nothing else to say.
"What?" Harry asked back, his tone indicating annoyance and disbelief. "You want me to walk?"
The absurdity of his statement would have been laughable in another instance, but not tonight. Nothing would have spoiled the solemnity of what had taken place.
"Of course not," she shook her head emphatically. "I didn't mean it that way."
"She's stronger than any of the horses you've ridden in your damned independent life, so yes, she can carry the two of us," Harry grumbled, dumping her unceremoniously onto Hedwig's saddle, but still careful enough not to hurt her ankle.
Hermione searched his face as he mounted behind her for any sign of feeling other than anger, but found none. "You're annoyed with me, aren't you?"
Harry's eyes flashed with renewed fury. "If you call my wanting to lock you up in that room of yours for as long as you live as annoyed, then you're damn right I am."
Hermione nodded, knowing full well he had the right to be. "I'm sorry."
"You should be," he muttered to her, reaching around her to take Hedwig's reins with both hands.
The position placed her within his arms, yet it could not even be mistaken for an embrace. He looked uncomfortable, trying not to let his arms fully enclose around her. She had no clue whether it was because he was angry enough to be repulsed by the mere touch of her, or because he thought she didn't want him holding her.
And because she knew him enough to know that it wasn't the former, she solved his problem by leaning close to him, letting her head lie on his chest for support.
Above her, she heard him sigh after the longest of seconds, and then felt his chin rest atop her head.
They rode away from the village in silence, leaving the men, but not the memory of tonight, behind.
It was only a few minutes later that Hermione felt the tension ease out of Harry and it pleased her that he was no longer thinking quite mull-headedly.
"You scared the damnation out of me, did you know that?" he whispered to her a few minutes later.
Since there wasn't anything she could say to that, Hermione opted to simply apologize. "I'm sorry. I just decided---"
She felt him shake his head.
His gentleness gone, he exclaimed, causing a few birds to flutter away from the tree nearby. "Decided?! Ha! You can't even make right decisions, even if your life depended on it!"
"That is not---"
"No? Let me refresh your memory, my dear," his scathing tone did no more than just add malice to the endearment. "Days ago, when we were out for a ride, you decided to follow me in the forest because you wanted to show me you didn't take orders. Because of that, you ended up with a tarnished reputation and I with a broken arm."
"No, don't interrupt me yet," he said when she took a deep breath to defend herself. "After that incident, I proposed to you because I knew that it was the right thing to do after----well---after. But you…you decided I was not good enough to be the Earl of Ravenclaw…"
"So then, you decided to leave without even telling Sirius or anybody else for that matter! And where did you end up? There with your virtue almost slain! Had it occurred to you yet of what might have happened had I not seen your carriage and felt something was wrong?"
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Harry cut her off again. His patient tone irritating rather than pacifying. "Damnation, Hermione, I'm this close to shaking your head off. I'm almost afraid to think of what you're going to do next, and whether that would entail me to rescue you. Every time you decide on something, I just feel that it's going to be anything but right!"
Again, his accuracy left nothing more for her to say except sorry.
"Do you not have anything else to say?" A pause and then a shake of his head. "Never mind. At least tell me the next time you think of doing something. I shall need time to prepare for whatever that reckless mind of yours has brewed." He stopped to look at her, and almost cursed at himself and his insensitivity when he noticed her weariness. "We'll talk about this later," he mumbled. "Get some rest."
Hermione nodded, glad for the reprieve. "Well, if it is any consolation, your grace, I've already decided on something," she deliberately yawned, feeling his scrutiny. "Although I'm not quite certain whether you will think my decision right or not."
Harry angled his head to look at her fully. His irritation was well-evident in those narrowed green eyes of his. "What, pray tell, would that decision be about, my lady?"
She closed her eyes.
"Marrying you."
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A/N:
After that long break I took, because of school work and other concerns for this story, I'm back with another chapter.
And here to stay, of course.
Anyway, so this scene had been playing in my mind since forever. I really had no idea what should be included within it, but the start and end was exactly what I've been thinking of.
Hopefully, for my next update, it wouldn't be too hard coming up with the beginning, middle, and end.
The conversation between Harry and Hermione, I don't know if it was effective. It's been a long time since I've written a chapter and I was confused between the era for Caught in the Past and Dare Me. So, I have no clue whether Harry and Hermione sounded regency-istic here.
So sorry again for the added inconvenience of reading the past chapter. I solemnly swear that I would TRY not to revise chapters (except for minor changes in grammar and stuff).
And also…I will be updating DARE ME next. I figured I'll be alternately updating my stories so, in this way, it's going to be fair. To those of you who haven't read it, please do…just check out my profile.
This is all for now, thanks for reading and Please…please…please review!
Until the next update then.
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