CHAPTER 9: HERMIONE'S DREAMS ARE HAUNTED BY DEAD PEOPLE

Hermione needed a new place to stay.

It was bad enough that her being here was the reason why now she had to attend a party tomorrow, and as much as she was getting used to Draco Malfoy and his weird mood swings and random questions and blatant disregard for wearing clothes over those stupid boxers of his, the Manor still gave her the creeps.

There was no way that she would be able to find somewhere to stay for cheap like last time, her hiding places were running out and she was pretty sure that she was crazy for even being at Malfoy Manor right now, but she was so tired.

The spells today, fighting off those witches and wizards at the Ministry had actually taken a lot out of her. It didn't help that most of those people had been people she once would have considered an ally to the cause of justice and peace. She'd had to hurt innocent people for the sake of her survival and her conscience wasn't taking it well either.

She turned in her bed and sighed heavily, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep, her mind in a state of unrest and turmoil.

Hermione was dreaming.

At least, she was sure she was. The last thing she could remember was climbing into her bed at the Manor and now she was standing on a grassy hill, the sunlight and the breeze playing her hair as she looked around in confusion.

She watched as distant shadowy figures appeared in the distance at the foot of the hill, waving to her beckoning her. suddenly, the air turned old and the sun disappeared behind thunder clouds that roared in anger. The grass at her feet died like her very presence had sucked away its life. the shadowy figures began to get closer and Hermione felt herself panic when she couldn't find her wand on her person.

This was a dream, surely nothing bad could happen to her in her dream?

She backed away as the people got closer and she recognised them, her heart beating wildly in her chest at the familiar faces.

"What is going on?" her voice asked, but it sounded hollow and lifeless.

Susan Bones smiled at her gently, holding up his hands non-threateningly. "Relax Hermione, we're not here to harm you."

Hermione began back off slowly, looking at Susan, and Adrian Pucey, both were surrounding her with her. Two dead people in her dreams? Where was Dennis and Dean and Pansy? And Kingsley and the others too?

What was this dream?

Susan smiled at Hermione, there wasn't any anger in her smile, it was full of mirth and warmth, "sorry about taking over your dream, Hermione. But this is the only way to talk to you at all, and we can only speak when you're sleeping." She paused and the others nodded.

"I don't understand, what...why...what?"

"Dean and Kingsley tried to contact you before, but they were tortured heavily before they passed on, their souls can't contact you anymore and we promised that we would try ourselves in their place. The others are all stuck too, but they weren't strong enough to get a connection into you mind. Or something, I don't know the details, okay?" Adrian muttered, crossing his arms.

Hermione didn't relax, not understanding what was happening. "Hermione, please, we're not going to hurt you, we're here because we need you to help us pass along too, and the only way to do that is to catch the one doing this and bring him to justice." Susan smiled at her sweetly.

She was dead, they all were, all because some psycho had wanted her to suffer, all these innocent people had been hurt too. "Susan, did it...are you...?" Her words failed her. How was she to comfort someone who'd died because of her?

"It didn't hurt as much as you think it did, Hermione. And when you and Malfoy figure it all out, I'll even get to see my parents in the afterlife, so please don't blame yourself!"

"Look, I'm not good at the sappy stuff, alright?" Adrian cut in, "you're smart, ain't ya? So figure it out, let me get some decent sleep. Think about what all the killings have in common. Why the killer chose us to kill. Why they're framing you and how we're connected to you." Adrian scowled at her, crossing his arms in irritation, "I'm totally over trying to kill you, so do me a favour and get that piece of crap who done this to me, okay?"

"Ignore him, he's just pissed because he was wrong about you being the killer. But we don't have time to chat about this, you're waking up, so listen carefully," Susan grabbed her hand and Hermione felt a chill run through her body at the contact. "You need to find the killer or more people are going to die. They'll come for you too, and if they get you, they're going to get everyone that ever stood against them." Susan glanced behind her and growled in frustration.

"You're waking up, but I suggest telling Draco about the things that are bothering you. I get he's annoying and whatever, but with both of you working this case, it will be solved quicker and I can rest in peace, savvy?" Adrian exclaimed, stretching languidly like a cat.

Susan smiled at Hermione, "ignore him, even dead, he's annoying." Hermione opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but the image of the hill began to fade fast and the ghosts disappeared just as fast as they appeared.

Hermione woke up so suddenly, she fell out of the bed.

She was disoriented, her heart beating erratically and out of pace. What the hell was that? She was dreaming about the people she'd been accused of killing. That wasn't normal. Those people visiting her in her dreams to tell her to find the killer wasn't normal either.

Her throat was parched; she needed a drink. She swung open the door and made her way down the stairs, and into the kitchen, her mind trying to make sense of what had just happened.

It was a cold night, and Hermione looked about herself in the darkness of the kitchen. She was hardly sleepy anymore. Even the thought of sleep was far from her mind, and she couldn't sleep now, not alone in a house as big as this.

They'd said the killings wouldn't stop, and of course, she hadn't expected them to, but to hear it voiced aloud made her blood want to curdle and her stomach twist in worry.

Taking a cup of water to the living room, taking her cup into the living room, she lit a fire in the fireplace, and turned her cup of water into hot chocolate, and then settled down into the sofa, watching the fire dance in the stone fireplace.

Had that dream been her own mind conjuring up images because she was unsettled or had the ghosts of dead people really taken over her dream to tell her to solve their murders? She sighed, there was no way her mind had come up with that all by itself, and there were so many things about the magic world that even she didn't know.

Perhaps the killer had done something to them before killing them that wouldn't allow them to return as ghosts in the living world in case they could attest to their own murder? In that case, perhaps being trapped in a world that was neither here or the underworld had allowed them to access her brain for help?

No, that was crazy! Wasn't it?

"Granger, what the hell are you doing up at four am?" Hermione sat up startled at his voice, glaring at Draco who smirked at her angry expression, "relax, you look like you've seen a ghost, it's just me." He sat himself next to her, tightening the black robe around his waist before getting comfortable.

Hermione relaxed and duplicated her drink and handed it to him, looking at the fire and wishing she had all the answers to all the question in her head and his. "I was just thinking," she muttered.

"At four in the morning? You need a hobby, Granger." He answered, taking a deep sip of the hot chocolate and sighing in contentment.

"I couldn't sleep, Malfoy."

Draco looked her over, catching sigh of the tired eyes and the defeated posture of her body. "Then let's get to know each other a little better, after all, we're living together right?" he didn't let her say anything as he leaned in closer to her and narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you stop me from calling you a mud-blood if you knew you were a pureblood?"

The question caught Hermione off guard and she stiffened slightly, cursing that stupid door for this. Of course he would know about that, what had she expected? The door had probably told on her, being from Malfoy Manor, it had probably felt compelled to protect and inform is Maser about her every move.

Stupid Door.

She heaved a sigh; and sipped her hot chocolate, wondering how to tell him about everything that had happened after she became wanted for murder without making him want to pity her.

"You don't have to tell me, but I will keep asking, just so you know." He stated, staring at the fire. Hermione found herself smiling at his words. Typical Draco.

"I didn't know then, when you called me that all those years ago. I honestly thought I was a muggleborn back then, that's why I was so upset. All those times, I really didn't know that I had a pure blooded heritage."

"So when did you find out?" his voice was soft, and though it surprised her somewhat, she found herself comforted by his familiarity.

"Around the time Dennis died, and I got accused, my parents found out that there was something going on, and once the warrant became official, they had no choice but to tell me that I wasn't there biological child..." Hermione paused again to take a sip. The liquid warmed her up; it seemed to be giving her courage.

"You were adopted?" he asked, stunned, looking at her in confusion.

"They got freaked out you know, they thought their daughter had gone haywire or something, so when they admitted that they'd adopted me, I thought they just wanted to get rid of me, but they showed me the adoption papers and everything. I really was adopted. They couldn't have children so they went to an orphanage and they found me. I went to the orphanage and found records relating to my birth, and the lady who ran the place gave me the full story of how was found."

"How you were found?"

"Yeah, a man dropped me off at the front steps to the orphanage when I was only two weeks old. He left no details or information, nothing except a note that was to be given to me if I ever returned to find out more about myself. It said 'she's the last of the Peverell family. Name her what you must, but her mother named her Hermione before her death. Look after her. She is the last one of her line."

Draco sat up, "the Peverell family? The ones that inspired the tale of the Three Brothers? The ones that explain the Deathly Hallows? You're related to one of them?"

She nodded, "I looked into it, and from what I found out, Antioch, the eldest brother had the Elder wand, but he died before he could dire any children. And Ignotus, the youngest brother had the invisibility cloak, and he's Harry's ancestor. The only one let over was the middle brother, Cadmus, who had the Resurrection stone, and even though he died, there are some tales that say he did have children, by process of elimination, I must be someone from his line."

"You're descended from the guy who had the Resurrection stone?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't believe it at first either, but the note came with heirlooms that had been handed down for generations apparently, and I haven't had time to look into it, because the day after I found out, the warrant became official and I had to obliviate my parents and run away. Being wanted for murder sort of takes all the time you have, don't you think, Draco?"

She lapsed into silence and wrapped her hands around her mug, keeping her fingers warm.

Draco wondered if she'd accidently called him by his first name, or if she'd said it on purpose. It was the first time she'd done it so blatantly and either way, he liked the way it sounded when she said it. He'd been teased for his name before, by those who didn't understand the relevance of constellation names in his family, but from her lips, his name didn't sound terrible, like when his father used it, or even the Dark Lord had said it.

It sounded like a name, not like an order or an expectation.

"Granger..."

"I tried to speak to them, tell them I didn't do it, I could never take someone's life, but they're all so afraid of death and pain that they refuse to listen. They call the Aurors immediately. It's not that they can't believe me, you see, it's that they are afraid to. If I'm not the one killing them, then there is someone unidentified out there doing so, and that's scarier than Hermione Granger killing people."

"That's stupid. In what world does you killing someone make it less scary? In what world is that even plausible? For Merlin's sake Granger, you fought for the rights of house elves! People are stupid." Draco muttered.

Hermione blinked, surprised at his outburst before smiling. "Ah, you get used to it after a while, being on the run and hiding. I hope you're never put into a situation like this though, Draco, it's not quite as fun as I'm pretending it is." She drained the last of her drink and sighed heavily, placing the empty mug on the floor.

Draco copied her and finished his drink, but before he could say anything in response, her eyes began to droop. "You don't mind do you?" she yawned, before laying her head down on his lap, her feet tucked into the sofa, her hair sprawled everywhere in soft little curls.

She made herself comfortable and then her eyelids began to drop again. Draco watched as her eyes closed and sleep welcomed her. He found himself pushing a few strands of hair from her face, tracing the curve of her cheeks before realising what he was doing and moving his hand away. She frowned at the loss of contact and Draco felt his face flush.

He summoned a warm blanket and placed it over her body, noticing the slight shivers in her fingers. When he made to move her hand inside the blanket, she grasped the warmth from his fingers and refused to let go, her hands intertwining with his as she relaxed in her sleep.

"What are you doing to me, Granger?" he whispered, more to himself than to her. She tightened her grasp on his hand and smiled in her sleep.

He leaned back against the sofa and thought about what she'd just told him. She was related to Cadmus, one of the three brothers of the Deathly Hallows, the one who had the resurrection stone. Was that the reason why she was being targeted?

From what he knew of the final battle between Potter and the Dark Lord, the Resurrection stone had been lost, never to be found, did the real murderer presume that Granger had it and wanted to obtain it by isolating her until they could get their hands on her?

If she'd managed to find out about her ancestors, then someone else must have too, and if they were after it for something that was said to be able to bring back lost loved ones, and they presumed Granger had it, then there was no way to stop them other than to find them first.

People did crazy things for love, he was aware of that, after all, even his mother had tempted fate by lying to Voldemort in exchange for news of his safety. If whoever the psychopath was, managed to get to Hermione first...Draco closed his eyes and cleared his head before looking at the woman whose grasp on his fingers was secure and filled with a kind of trust that he'd never felt anyone grant to him before.

She was kind and compassionate, she wouldn't be able to live if someone that twisted and desperate got to her. They'd already gotten rid of her friends and family, made her distressed enough to go to an old enemy for help. There was no way that he would allow anyone to harm her.

She was the only good thing in his life, and selfish or not, he couldn't let anything happen to her.

No, he wouldn't let that happen.

No one in the world would take Hermione Granger from him, not even death. And with that thought, Draco fell asleep, the smell of oranges and cinnamon dulling his senses and pulling him under.