Chapter Eighteen

Hermione tilted her head, rubbing her thumb along Blaise's hand, which had been almost glued to hers for days. "Me? I have no idea how I am. I'm…miserable. I'm tired, I'm scared, I'm hurt…I'm…I'm cracking Ginny. I can't handle this. He needs to wake up!" Hermione said. She was getting worked up.

"I know sweetie…"

"No! No, you don't know! You have no idea what this feels like! He has to wake up! He has to!" Hermione sobbed. Her voice was raised and she shook uncontrollably. Ginny stood up.

"Hermione, calm down!"

"No! No, I wont! I'm sick and tired of just sitting here, not able to do anything about this. He needs to wake up. He has to wake up!"

And with that, a surge of power rippled down Hermione's arm and through her fingers, which were still clasped around Blaise's hand. She didn't even notice had it not been for the sizzling noise that came from the contact. Her eyes swirled blue and Ginny backed away. She wasn't sure what was going on, but Hermione was scaring her.

"Hermione please. Calm down," she whispered.

But Hermione didn't hear her, because at that very moment, Blaise Zabini had opened his eyes.

---

Blue. All she could see was blue, and sparkling. A hint of a devious glimmer. And sheer joy. And Blue. That blue that she hadn't seen in weeks was finally there again. He was there again.

Part of her didn't want to believe it, because if it were just a dream, waking up would crush her, but the other part, the bigger part, whispered, "Blaise?"

Ginny heard the name slip of her Hermione's mouth and her worried stare flipped from Hermione's face to a shocked awe looking at the boy lying on the Hospital Bed in front of her. She saw Hermione's knees buckle, and grabbed her before she could hit the ground, helping her ease into the chair by the bed. "I'll be right back," she muttered, scampering out of the room to go find Madam Pomfrey.

"Blaise?" Hermione murmured again.

He stared back at her for a moment. "Are you really here?" His voice was quiet, hoarse, and weak. But it was his voice, still powerful, and deep, comforting, and beautiful.

"I haven't been anywhere else in weeks," Hermione said, tears flowing gently down her face.

"I could hear you. Every day, talking to me. I thought I was dreaming. I kept picturing your face – but I couldn't move…I couldn't – I didn't think it was real…" he muttered. His eyes watered. "I kept seeing a flash of green, over and over. Seeing myself, holding you, hitting the ground. I thought you di–…it was hell Hermione. I thought it was hell, seeing that over and over again, not being able to move or talk or scream…it was just empty. And then your voice," he coughed slightly.

"Shh. Just relax. I really am here. And you really are here. And it's okay, and it will be okay. Just rest, and Madam Pomfrey will come, and it's going to be okay," Hermione smiled through her tears, talking his hand with the intention of never, ever, letting it go.

---

"HE WOKE UP?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE WOKE UP!? IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" he screamed. Everything in the room shattered.

"I'm just telling you what I know. Do not raise your voice at me," Mathias thought. He was sitting in a chair, his eyes closed, thumb and forefinger pressed against his brow. Dealing with this boy was frustrating and tiring. It took a huge toll on the aged man to have these mental conversations. But it was the only way.

The boy's body was lying weak and immobile on the hospital bed in front of him, seemingly dead. But the boy was very much alive – and very irritating. As word had spread that the third had reawaken, Mathias knew that it would be his head if he didn't inform the boy of his latest setback.

"He was not supposed to wake up Mathias!" the boy hissed.

"Please, stop having a tone with me. It's giving me a headache."

"Oh, I apologize. Sorry if you have to endure a bit of mental pain for a few moments while I talk to you, because I have no other choice, while I lie here, unable to do anything!" the boy yelled.

Infuriating. "Well that's all I came to tell you. I'll come back once I have more information."

"Do not walk out on me Mathias. Don't –" but the boy's image was already fading.

Mathias opened his eyes and looked around the room. After hearing that the boy had regained consciousness, he had to admit that he was concerned. It meant that he was more powerful then he had believed, and that was not to be taken lightly. Mathias was angry with himself for underestimating the boy's powers to begin with, and it was just another blow to the old man's ego. He could not keep miscalculating his skills, and most definitely could not keep being taken by surprise.

---

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey! Anybody!" Ginny Weasley bolted out of the Hospital Wing as soon as Hermione had mentioned the nurse's name. She was in shock. She could not believe that Blaise was awake, and she was shaking from both excitement and astonishment. "Madam Pomfrey!"

"My dear! Miss Weasley, what is the reason for all this ruckus?" a bemused Professor Dumbledore appeared from around the corner, eying Ginny with a look that made it seem like he knew something Ginny didn't. But he always had that look.

"Professor!" Ginny breathed heavily. She bent over to catch her breath, and then straightened. "Professor, Blaise Zabini is awake. He woke up."

"Did he now?" Dumbledore's forehead creased with interest. "Lead the way."

The Headmaster followed the youngest Weasley through the castle until they reached the doors of the Hospital Wing. He then paused, resulting in a quizzical look from the redhead.

"Miss Weasley, I wonder if you would be so kind as to find our dear Madam Pomfrey and send her here promptly, and then return yourself to the Gryffindor Common Room. I fear that we are dealing with forces more powerful than I had foreseen, and I would rather not put you in a situation where harm could be even the slightest possibility," Dumbledore said.

"Of course, Professor," Ginny turned and walked briskly down the hallway, making a mental note to find Harry and borrow the Marauders Map in order to find the nurse.

Dumbledore pushed open the doors to the Hospital Wing, and entered, his dark green robes billowing in after him.

Hermione and Blaise looked up at the Headmaster as he approached the foot of the bed, his expression undistinguishable.

"Professor?" Hermione whispered. She did not like the concern that had etched itself into the creases around the old man's eyes.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged her presence, nodding at her slightly, but quickly turned to the young man lying in the bed. "Mister Zabini. It appears I greatly underestimated your abilities. You are far more powerful than I originally thought. What concerns me is the fact that these powers you have seem to vary from good to bad ever so vacillatingly…"

Blaise lowered his eyes and stared at his hands, one of which Hermione still clasped tightly. "Whatever it is that concerns you about my abilities Professor," he said quietly, "I can assure you has been a source of unease in my life for a very long time. Along with everything else that comes with being…whatever I am."

"Blaise, I understand that this is a dilemma you have been dealing with your whole life. And unfortunately, it is something rather unprecedented in your time, and the historical information we have of your kind, well it is very hard to find, and even harder to decipher, as I'm sure you already know. But please know that I will do everything within my power, however slight it may be in comparison to yours," the Professor's eyes twinkled, "to help you rid yourself of this burden, or at the very least, better control your powers."

Blaise looked at the Headmaster hard, for a long time. His eyes then softened, and he lowered his gaze.

"No one has ever offered to help me with this Professor," he whispered. Hermione squeezed his hand, her heart pounding with sadness.

Dumbledore walked around the bed and placed his hand on Blaise's shoulder.

"Well then, it's about time someone did, wouldn't you say so Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up and half smiled at Dumbledore before meeting Blaise's eyes with her own.

"Definitely about time," she then lowered her voice, saying words only meant for Blaise, "And if he can't help you, I will."

Blaise looked at Hermione, taking in the beauty and the power that emanated from her. A lump caught in his throat. He would have given anything for Hermione not to have to feel the way he felt. Blaise knew that she hadn't reached that point yet, her powers being so fresh, but she would. And the knowledge that the innocent, pure girl in front of him would have to endure so much pain for a so-called gift she didn't (or wouldn't) want, tortured him.

All he could do was lift her hand, still clutching his, and touch his lips to her cool skin, sending invisible sparks up her arm and through her body.

"Thank you…" he whispered.

"Well! Mister Zabini, I do believe you have been here long enough. As soon as Miss Weasley returns with Madam Pomfrey, and she gives you her approval, I daresay you may accompany Miss Granger here back to the Head Dorms. Have a pleasant evening, you two." And with that, Dumbledore drifted out of the Infirmary.

"I hate this, by the way…" Hermione said suddenly.

"Huh? Hate what?" Blaise said, taken aback slightly.

"You actually," Hermione said, her eyes teasing. Blaise cocked his eyebrow. "I hate missing you…you keep disappearing on me. Stop it," she teased.

Blaise grinned and pulled her up by her hand until she was sitting on the bed next to him, and then tugged on her arm ever so slightly so she was lying by his side. Tilting her chin up slightly, he placed a soft kiss on her nose.

"Sorry," he said simply.

"You should be," she smiled, hugging him around his middle. "In all fairness, I should tell you though, that while I hate missing you, I love having you to miss."

He kissed the top of her head and smiled into her curls.

"I can't wait to get out of here."

"The feeling's mutual. Why?" Hermione said, looking up at him.

"I need to make up for a lot of lost time," Blaise said mischievously.

"Oh, really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. Blaise leaned down to kiss her ­–

"Ahem!" Madam Pomfrey had returned.

Hermione jumped from the hospital bed, turning pink.

"I'll just wait outside…" she muttered and turned to leave.

As she reached the door, she turned back to glance at Blaise again. As she watched him get up from the bed, wincing slightly with pain, Hermione's heart filled with so many emotions, it was almost overwhelming. At that moment, she realized that all she really wanted was to be able to wave her hand and let him be truly happy and carefree for the rest of his life, even if she would suffer in the process.

---

Little did Hermione know that as those thoughts passed through her mind, she wasn't the only one listening to them.

He had finally realized how he could change his fate. It had been so simple. He could not believe he hadn't seen it in the first place. The solution had been staring him in the face for months. And now he had it as solid evidence. His eyes flickered gold underneath his closed lids, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt the full surge of his powers ripple through his body, and he remembered why he had agreed to take part in the Blood Bond in the first place.

He had been confused as a child, consumed and tormented by the overwhelming power that had taken over his being. Then he met them, the two others, three of them in total, that understood his pain. It was then they decided to make the pact, an oath unlike any other, a bond that only their kind could attempt to make, because of the severity of the damage that would be caused should it be broken.

They knew what they were, and how the world both coveted and detested their power, and they swore they would be rid of it. The three of them together would end the lines that had been secretly continued for five centuries, the lines that the world thought had faded into oblivion, but in reality had grown more powerful and festered underneath the surface of the wizarding world, waiting to arise again.

And so they studied. For months they researched methods to eliminate the power, but to no avail. Years passed, and the boys grew into young men, and still, no solution had been found. The power had driven them into isolation, interacting only with each other, in fear of the fact that no one else could survive in their presence.

Finally, after years of searching, the three met the Paladinius, the only man who understood their power, the only man who was able to help. He never forgot the relief he felt when the Paladinius told him he could remove the powers from their bodies. Whole-heartedly and naively, the three agreed to the Blood Bond. And then things began to go horribly wrong.

The three were so preoccupied with thoughts of relief that they failed to hear the Paladinius when he told them what the Bond would entail. They did not hear the conditions behind the oath, and that is where they made their biggest mistake.

When it came time to swear by magic, and tie together their fates with Blood, and take the oath that could not be broken, stronger than any Unbreakable Vow, and the Paladinius once more told them what they needed to do in order to rid their bodies of the power, only one remained willing. Two turned away, refusing to do with their powers what was necessary for the Bond; they claimed they would rather live the rest of their lives in solitude than do what the Paladinius was asking of them. He, on the other hand, agreed. He did not want to spend the rest of his life alone. He convinced the others to take part in the Bond, telling them the sacrifice of giving up their powers was far greater than anything else anyone would endure, that transferring their powers to others was the only way they could live, at least in part, common lives. In their desperation for normalcy, the two consented.

The Paladinius, although weary of the whole ordeal and hesitant to take part, had no choice at that point. He took the three to a remote location where they were sedated and required to allow their bodies to rest in order to be able to undergo the magic they would have to use.

The Paladinius then set out to find the Aiurea de Putere, the Takers of Power, which he did, twenty years later, in three young boys from three different pure-blood families.

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Hey guys! I know its taken me foreverrr to update and I'm sorry! So I hope this chapter helps clear something up at least, but no worries, new chapters coming soon, I promise!!

ShadX - Shadow Elf: hahaha thank you! I hope this kept the intrigue level up! Lol

CryBloodRedTears: I just realized you left this review in March. 6 month wait…I fail. Im sorry!! Hopefully this can keep you busy until the next chapter.

Ari-Moon: as far as you know right now, yes. The eye color change is tied into their emotions, but its also related to the level of power they have. There is a lot more to their power and what it entails and what it can do than has been talked about so far. So I hate to say it, but you're just going to have to wait and see what else the Sortiarmus can do 