All Characters belong to JKR
Chapter 7 – Where has all the Magic Gone?
Draco woke up startled. He sat up, disoriented and confused. Marcus was once again sitting on a chair, drinking a cup of coffee. Missing from the picture was Hermione. The last time he woke up on this couch, Marcus was sitting in one chair and Hermione in the other.
"Hey, Mate," Marcus said, "rough night last night?"
Draco looked down at his rumpled clothing, then over at the dirty dishes still on the table. "Something like that. Have you seen Hermione this morning?" Draco stood up and stretched.
"She's already up at the house, I believe. Your date didn't turn out well, did it?" Marcus asked, no longer making fun.
"Why, what did she say to you?" Draco asked, on his way to the loo.
"Nothing, I haven't seen her. It's an assumption, I suppose," Marcus waned.
Draco went to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and as he took care of his morning business, he yelled out to the other room, "It's your fault."
"How is it my fault?" Marcus yelled back.
"I'm not sure, but it is," Draco yelled back. He shut the bathroom door, and started to take his shower. As the hot water cascaded down his tired muscles, he strained to remember why it was Marcus' fault. He really could not recall.
Draco joined Hermione and Marcus up at the house. They were in the study. Hermione held up a box and said, "This box is full of nothing but photographs, all old photos, from the looks of things." Draco looked over her shoulder. Each photo was of a single person. They looked almost like mug shots. Hermione said, "On the back of each photo is a name and a date. There are pictures in here of people of all ages. There must be over one hundred pictures."
"Curious," Draco said. He took the box from her, and started looking at the pictures. "By the way," he asked, not looking at her, "How's the head this morning?"
"The head is fine, thanks," Hermione grinned.
Draco walked over to her, and put his hand on the back of her head, in pretense that he was checking her bump from yesterday. "You must have a pretty hard noggin, for there's barely a bump back here."
"I've always been told I have a hard head," Hermione said.
"Well, that's not such a bad thing, is it?" Draco asked.
"I guess not. I am sorry my headache had to cut the date short," Hermione said. He put his hand down.
"Yes, I was upset I didn't get my candy," he told her.
"Or your goodnight kiss?" she asked.
"Oh, I still got that. I wasn't really asleep," he said.
Hermione looked angry, but she wasn't, "You are very good at deception. I'm not sure that's a good thing."
"It can be a very good thing, believe me," he almost whispered, leaning over to her.
Marcus left the room, mumbling something about, "Get a room."
Draco turned around, and yelled, "We were just having a conversation!" Nevertheless, the man had already left.
"Is he in a bad mood this morning?" Hermione asked.
"Who cares," Draco said back.
They worked for several hours in the library. Bill and Charlie had come to work in the nursery and on the trunk. Hermione walked up to the nursery.
"Hi, Charlie, anything interesting?" Hermione asked.
"Very," Charlie said back. He was placing all the books from the shelves in boxes. "Where's the book you opened yesterday?"
"In the cottage, why?" Hermione asked.
"I just want to keep all of these together," Charlie explained. "I'm taking them to a friend I know. He's familiar with some of the professor's teachings, and he wants to have a look."
"Is he a pureblood?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, and I told him about your theory, and he thinks you might be onto something," Charlie told her. "Would you mind getting me that book from the cottage? Just don't open it again," Charlie asked Hermione.
Hermione was about to summon the book to her when Draco walked in the room, and said, "I actually burned that book, last night." Hermione turned around with a shocked expression.
"You burned a book?" she asked.
"Calm down, Granger, it's just a book," Draco said, standing in the doorway, holding out his hands in a defensive mode. Hermione walked past him, shouldered him out of the way, and went to join Bill in the other room.
Charlie laughed and said, "You might have well said you burned a kitten. She would have been just as offended."
"What do you really think happened to her when she opened that book?" Draco asked Charlie.
"Well, let's just say my friend has been researching this man for a while. Do you know he used to do experiments, one hundred years ago, to test children for magical ability. This was before his mid-life crisis, before he published all those books about blood purity," Charlie said.
"No, I have to admit, I knew nothing of the man before I acquired this estate," Draco said. He turned to go to the other room as well. He saw that Bill was removing the books from the trunk. Hermione was watching.
"You opened the trunk?" Draco asked.
"Yes," said Bill. He continued removing the books, and said, "Hermione, levitate this trunk downstairs. I want to take it back to the office. I'll get the books."
Hermione pulled out her wand, and began to levitate the trunk; however, the trunk merely hovered in the air for a moment, and then crashed back to the ground. Both Draco and Bill, who were examining the books, looked up at her.
"Sorry," she said. The men went back to looking at the books, and Hermione once again tried to levitate the trunk. It crashed back to the ground.
"Goodness, Granger, its simple enough magic," Draco said, almost in disdain. He took his wand and levitated the trunk out of the room. Hermione walked behind him slowly. Once the trunk was outside, Draco turned back around to look at Hermione. Hermione was standing on the porch, looking at her own wand.
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"Nothing," Hermione proclaimed.
Bill came downstairs and said, "I've decided to leave the books for Charlie to examine later, and I'm taking the trunk back to the office. I'll be back this afternoon." He took the trunk and disapparated.
Draco started back in the house, and he asked Hermione, "Coming?"
"Later," she said. He shrugged and walked in the house. Hermione pointed her wand to a small rock in the yard, and tried to summon it to her, as she did the other day when she sat on the porch. The rock flew right to her hand. Feeling somewhat relieved, she walked around to the side of the house. She was determined to find out what was in the stone building where the professor did his experiments.
She disarmed the lock with her wand, and entered the large building. It was one large room, dark, dank, and very depressing. She lit her wand. There were tables, chairs, and chalkboards. This appeared to be more of a classroom.
Hermione roamed around the large room. She pointed her wand at the windows, to remove the heavy tarps from in front of them. Nothing happened. She tried again, and again, and nothing happened. Hermione felt like screaming in frustration! She could not perform the simplest feats of magic. Why? She reached up and removed the tarps manually. The next thing she knew, the light on the end of her wand extinguished. She said, "Lumos," but nothing happened. She tried once more, said, "Lumos." The wand remained unlit.
She heard Draco calling her name. She didn't answer. Instead, she sat down next to the wall, and began to cry.
Draco finally found her, in the stone building, on the floor, her face, streaked with tears. He approached her cautiously, and without touching her he asked, "What's wrong?"
"My magic, it's gone," she said.
He kneeled beside her, and put his hand on her leg. "What do you mean?"
"What the hell do you think I mean?" she asked, knocking his hand off her leg. She stood up and began to shout, "I can't perform magic! Nothing! I cannot accio anything, I cannot levitate, and I can't apparate or disapparate. I can't even keep my wand lit!"
"When did this start?" he asked.
"I don't know!" She stormed out of the building, and he followed.
"Stop a minute, Granger!" he shouted.
She turned around and said, "Is it asking too much for you to call me Hermione! I've asked you that at least twice now!" She walked away from him and he caught her arm.
"Are we really going to have an argument about what I call you?" he asked with ire.
"Why not? You have nothing to fear, it's not like I can hex you or anything!" She removed her arm from his hand and asked, "Is Charlie still here?"
"No, he left a while ago," Draco said.
"How am I to get home? I can't apparate!" She was near hysterics.
"Maybe you should go to St. Mungo's," he suggested.
"Maybe you should go to hell," she said with a bite.
"Listen, Hermione, I don't know what's going on, but yelling at me isn't going to accomplish anything," he yelled back at her. She sank to the ground and began to sob again. Even without her magic, he was afraid to approach her.
She looked up at him and said, "Will you take me to my flat?"
"If you will tell me where you live, I will," he told her. He put his hand on her arm, and lifted her to a standing position. She told him her address, and they disappeared.
Her flat was in Muggle London, on the third floor of an old townhouse. It was one large room, with an alcove, which contained her bed, and a small bathroom at one end. It was brightly decorated, warm and comfortable. Draco began to walk around, touching things, examining things.
"I know, it's small, but I like it," she said, sitting on the couch.
"I think it's nice. Very homey," he said sincerely.
She sat alone on the couch. He picked up a picture frame to examine the picture within. It was a Muggle picture of her parents and her. He set the picture down and looked at her. She looked so sad and alone. He came and sat next to her and said, "Try to do something now."
She fingered her wand in her hand, for she had not let it go since she left the building. She pointed the wand at Draco, and nothing happened.
"May I ask what you were trying to do?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised.
"I was trying to turn you into a frog, but nothing happened," she said.
He didn't know if she was joking, but he said, "No, I'm still a prince." He smiled at her, but she was frowning.
She threw her wand across the room, feeling defeated.
"You really need to go to St. Mungo's," he said. He knew her headache from last night, combined with the dark magic from the book, was to blame for her present condition, and he knew that she knew it as well. He didn't want to say that aloud to her, for he felt too guilty about it. He wished he had not burned the book now.
"Please leave, Draco," Hermione said. She stood up and went over to the alcove containing her bed. She lay down on the bed, and turned away from him.
"I don't want to, and you can't presently make me leave," he said. He sat down on a chair, and waited. She would have to face this eventually.
She began to cry again, and with her body still facing the wall, she said, "Who am I without my magic? Where is my place in the world, if it's not in the magical world? It's all I've known for so long." He came up and sat beside her on her bed. She turned to her back, so she could look at him. "I'm nothing without my magic."
"You're still a person. A smart, beautiful person," he said. However, he knew how she felt. He would feel the same way. He was surprised she did. He grew up with magic, so if he lost his magical ability, he would be devastated. Here was a girl who grew up Muggle, lived in Muggle London, and had Muggle parents, and yet, she defined herself by her magic. It made him very sad for her. It also made him regret the way he always viewed Muggle-borns.
Without telling her what he was doing, he took her arm, and took her directly to St. Mungo's.
