Yeah, I'm sorta pushing this story along faster. I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing. What do you guys think?
Thanks to ProwlingKitKat, Queen of Serpents, Hotkat144, ca803, Odi et amo., Kat, Elizabeth lovergood, lazer-angel (x2), moongrace, bluemaui49, HGDM lova, pinkicing101, BA de Danone, tankbbg, The Infamous Wootermelon, Silles, Markitdownb4itsstruck, Moni Jane, Natural- 181, Marionette, carly, cemicool, xmisundazt00d, CrystalizedHeart, emeraldwolfqueen, AmOrFoReVeR, Ehlonna, rachhulk, Silidons, Anti-Monarchist, OrgnlAmagic, KaytiSarai, and pstibbons for reviewing!!! You guys are all so supportive. It makes me feel loved. XD
Long chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter Seven
"It's right here!" Hermione screamed at the infuriating blond wizard who stood before her, paying attention to everything but her. At the moment, he was inspecting the layer of dust upon a single book with a broken spine, which amounted to none. She held up the letter, wrinkled in her tight fist that was clenched in aggravation. "Why won't you listen to me? It's all right here!"
"What's all there?" Draco said, sounding only half-interested. He placed the well-worn book on the shelf and picked up a nearby book holder and traced its beautiful design of a fairy by the fountain.
Hermione tried her best to resist the urge to rip the book holder from his hands and smashing it against the thick skull of his. "Weren't you paying a single ounce of attention to me?" she yelled. When he did not respond, she yanked the holder from his hands and shoved the letter to him.
"Hey!" he shouted, reaching for the book holder. "That's an antique, that is! If you break it--"
"With your beloved antique at stake," Hermione said loudly, overriding Draco's shouts and protests, "it might be advisable to listen to what I have to say!"
He glared angrily at her. It was clear that he didn't want to listen to what she had to say. Instead, he took out his wand, causing Hermione to grimace inwardly, though she kept her exterior collected. Of all times to bring in magic! "Accio book holder."
Hermione didn't have time to fumble for her wand to mutter a shield-blocking spell, and, thus, she felt the holder slip from her grasp and into the ferret's outstretched hands. Hermione let out a strangle cry of anger. She had waited the entire day while he was away with Ariise, staring at the letter. And now that he had returned, he did not listen to a single word that she was trying to shove across.
When he made no move to listen to her and carelessly threw the letter aside, Hermione was affronted. In her anger, she grabbed her wand and pointed it at his neck. He stiffened as he felt the rounded point of the wand press into his skin.
"It's no use," he said, his distracted facade gone and replaced by a cold, serious one. This sudden change made Hermione's grip falter a bit, only for her to push the wand in the back of his neck further. "You cursing me will not get you what you want, will it?"
At this, she truly faltered and she dropped her wand down low. It was true. Her wand point was an empty threat. However, the strike at her pride insulted her and she quickly tried to cover up. "Well, if you'd only listen to me instead of acting like an immature jerk, then maybe--" she started, but she was quickly cut off.
"Don't make up an excuse," he instructed her sharply, giving her only a slight glance. "I have neither the time nor will to listen to it."
Hearing these words, Hermione openly scoffed and stared after him. "No time?" she repeated. "Oh, what is it that's consuming you? Maybe the dust on that blue book isn't checked yet?" she said sarcastically, crossing her arms.
He didn't verbally reply and only gave her a stern look, warning her to be silent. She didn't heed his warning. "And another thing," she continued as she followed him, turning into another aisle of long bookshelves. "You said that we couldn't have any outside contact. What's with this letter?"
"People can write to you, but you cannot reply," he explained carelessly, returning to his previous easy-going manner. Picking up a thin, hardcover book, he frowned slightly. Upon flipping through the pages and finding nothing wrong with it, he shrugged and put it back. "However, the letters are filtered to ensure that politics and such influences are removed. Only petty matters, such as family issues, the latest gossip, fashion are left."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. She wasn't quite fond of the idea of people nosing through personal letters. "And who filters them?" she said dangerously, as though daring him to say that he himself had filtered her letters. "You?"
To her surprise, Draco had audacity to laugh out loud. "Why in the world would I care to know any of your business?" Hermione let out a small breath of relief; at least he had the common sense to stay out of private issues. "No; it's filtered out by magic." He shook his head.
"Oh," Hermione said somewhat offhandedly, trying to figure out what she was supposed to say next, letting an awkward silence hang down between them as she attempted at her memory. "Well, then, what of Ernie?"
Draco groaned out loud immediately after Hermione's comment. "Oh, not again--" he said exasperatedly.
"But why was he there?" she persisted, following him still around the library, as a fly would that refused to be swatted. "You said it yourself, that everyone there was fake!"
With an irritated sigh, he turned toward her and said sharply, "You're delusional. End of sentence. End of topic. End of conversation, if you'll call it that. And, if you're half as smart as they say you are, you'll learn to keep your bloody nose where it belongs."
Hermione stared after him in utter horror at his curtness, but she refused to be beaten. "I am not delusional, and, for your information, I am keeping my nose where it belongs," she said hotly, quickening her pace to catch up with him. "I am involved in this whole ordeal, am I not?" When she was met with no answer, she continued, "Well, I am, and I'd really rather not experience a whole dramatic death."
"Not everything is revolving around you, Granger," he said shortly as he tried to out walk her.
"You think this is about me?" she said, aghast as she quickened her pace once more. "No, it's not! What about the other three Maidens? It's about them, too!" She paused slightly. "Or are you too self-consumed for them, too?"
He sighed, thoroughly annoyed. "You know, Granger, some things you simply aren't meant to know," he said in a final tone.
This caught Hermione off guard. He had, after all, just admitted that he had a secret that he was keeping from her. He seemed to notice this too and faltered for a moment before that look of annoyance crossed his face again.
"Satisfied?" he said, folding his arms. "Now go."
When Hermione didn't make a move to leave, he promptly decided to leave in place of her. After all, if it meant getting rid of the unrelenting witch, so be it. He was quite fed up, just as she was fed up with him. How did she not understand that he wasn't going to tell her a word? With an angry sigh, he threw the door shut and left Hermione to stare after him.
So it was all true, she thought. That thing I found in the fire... it could really have been a letter from the outside. After all, family issues were permitted--perhaps someone was plotting something already? But no, that couldn't be--Maidens weren't supposed to know their future until it has come. And Hermione was left there in the library, more confused than ever.
However, the bewilderment wasn't quite over yet, as she would realize the next day.
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It was a clear and cool night, with the stars glistening overhead merrily, telling a story of magic and painting a picture of power. The air was crisp with a certain redeeming freshness, filling Hermione's nose with a natural sweet scent. She removed her shoes and let her toes dig into the soft earth, the gentle breeze blowing by. Grasshoppers were gathering to play in their orchestra, humming their off-beat tunes. Crickets attempted to sing along, chirping throughout the night.
She breathed in deeply as she seated herself upon a garden bench as she gazed into the sky. There would be another adventure tomorrow; Delilah's day with Draco had been done and over with that day. She closed her eyes briefly and shuddered slightly as she recalled Delilah's obvious attempts to make herself appear at her best with heavy make-up and unnaturally curly hair.
In the serene setting, Hermione soon found herself to calm and drift into a gentle sleep, until a clearing of the throat disrupted her peaceful meditation. Her eyes flickering open, she looked around--and her eyes fell upon Draco Malfoy, the arch enemy. She groaned inwardly; she had been having quite the pleasant time before he destroyed it with his very presence. Picking up her shoes, she stood up and tried to shove past the infuriating blond.
She didn't expect his fingers to interlace around her arm as she passed by, catching her by the wrist. Shocked, she slowly turned her head to meet his. "Let me go," she demanded.
He didn't move as he stared at her intensely, making Hermione feel as though she were to burst into flame. Finally, his lips parted slightly and words were formed. "Will you leave if I do?"
Biting her lip, Hermione debated the idea. The obvious answer was 'yes,' that she would leave as soon as she could. After all, who wanted to stay around their greatest enemy? However, he wouldn't let her go if she were to speak that particular word, and, after all, listening to what he had to say was better than him touching her. At long last, she spat out a venomous "no."
A familiar smirk crossed his lips as he dropped her hand, crossing his arms in satisfaction. However, that look quickly faded and turned into a solemn one, but he didn't speak a word. Hermione's patience was thinning; it was obvious by the way her breathing was starting to huff, irritated; her foot was tapping, and then the narrowing of the eyes. And, after a few more moments of silence, Draco suddenly blurted into the emptiness, "I need your help."
Hermione was taken completely by surprise, her jaw dropping slightly and her eyes squinting at him, as if worried there were something wrong with him. And, indeed, he seemed slightly startled and discomforted by what he had said as well. After all, he hated her, and vice versa! "What?" she said, dumbfounded.
"You heard what I said," he said, irritated. "I'm not going to say it again."
She could very well understand that. They all had their own limits of pride, to what they would extend to before being pushed back by their pride once more. Quickly, she shook her head and recovered from her shock, recollecting herself. Shifting from foot to foot, she muttered, "Sorry... but what about?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he contemplated how to word his thoughts. He started to pace back and forth short distances, his breathing aggravated. Hermione, for once, didn't push him, letting him have his own time. And he did take up a lot of time--perhaps even hours, but no one was counting the time.
"You talked about Macmillan the other day," Draco suddenly said, startling Hermione as his voice disrupted the silence she'd grown somewhat accustomed to while waiting for his words. It took a while for her to comprehend his words. Is he finally admitting--? "I didn't want to believe it."
Hermione's lips parted, her brows furrowed slightly, ready to ask a question--but just as she made a sound, he shot her a look that silenced her. It was clear he didn't want questions in between his storyline. "My mother--I told you that she was fine two days ago." Hermione looked ready to protest and contradict him, but he quickly glided over, not letting her have any room to speak. "She noticed something strange--that you should be here. You, a Mud--Muggleborn."
Should this have been a normal occasion, Hermione's eyes would have darkened considerably at him calling her a Mudblood. However, this was not a normal occasion, as her curiosity peaked once more and her eyes grew alight with intense wonder and let him speak.
"There had never been Muggleborns in these Pureblooded ceremonies before. Fate never brought them in. Occasionally, there would be a Half-blood, but should that be the case, the Half-blood's heritage would be kept secret by the family, should she be chosen--which she often was not." He shook his head. "But never a Muggleborn."
Excitement grew from that curiosity. Should her status be revealed, she would be known as the first Muggleborn in a Pureblooded matrimony cermony--but was that a good thing? Her excitement quickly subsided into doubt as she frowned slightly.
"And when you came--" He paused slightly, flustered. "And when you came--she knew something was wrong, different. That the magic was changing. Fate was evolving. I didn't want to believe it." His eyes flickered to the floor and a slight blush rose to his pale cheeks. "And when you said that you had met Ernie Macmillan when there should have been no one real--that just proved my mother's beliefs even more."
Hermione nodded, but was inwardly still quite confused. She didn't understand the topic that Draco was dancing around. Though he was to the point, it seemed that there was something he hadn't quite yet revealed.
"Mother said that, when she was a Maiden, she had found a book describing habits of such matrimony habits and the Malfoy line." He shook his head. "It could be anywhere, and interpretation..." He paused slightly, an ironic grin on his face that shouldn't have been there. "Well, you've always been best at that."
Slowly, dawning realization fell upon Hermione as things finally clicked together. "You want me to help you find these books, and to help you figure out what the Portkey's secret is?" He slowly nodded and a smile crossed her face. "I suppose I'll help. After all," she said, "it is what I'm best at."
Hermione's throat constricted, as though she had something to say--but how would she say it? That she had already found the book? It was like invading private property. She closed her mouth and nodded slightly, tightening her smile and standing. She knew that he would be feverishly searching for the book; they could save time and trouble. But... "Well, then," she said. "Let's start looking."
He opened his mouth; he had obviously not expected her to start the search so early. She only gave him a pointed look before turning around and ran back into the manor, barefoot. With a slow smirk--close enough to a smile, though he would never admit that--he shook his head and chased after her into the house.
The grounds were vast, to put it lightly, and it was not a quick run back inside the manor. In fact, by the time both of them were sheltered once more, they were panting somewhat heavily, a flushed look on their faces. Hermione fell upon the couch, relaxing her tired legs for a brief moment. Draco, who was slightly more athletic and stronger, remained standing and leaned against the wall. "So," he started, surprisingly casual, "which library do you propose that we search in first?"
Hermione hesitated. Should she...? After all, she did have a sense of justice in her. She shouldn't have been nosing in that book. "The Maiden's Library," she said as she hoisted herself up.
His brows knitted together slightly in thought. "There?" he said. "That's the last place I'd look."
"Well," Hermione said in that familiar know-it-all voice of hers, "she did find the book while she was a Maiden, didn't she?" Draco said nothing but a slight hint of pink rose to his cheeks. Noticing this, Hermione laughed slightly. "She hasn't been exactly obedient?"
Draco wrinkled his nose slightly and looked about somewhat awkwardly. "Well... not exactly..."
"I don't need to know," Hermione said quickly to spare him the discomfort. An unspoken truce had settled between them while they were to work together. "But it seems logical to be there; after all, if you've been in this manor your whole life and you've never stumbled upon it yet--"
He interrupted her with a sort of bark-like laugh. "Granger, not everyone spends their days in books as you do," he told her, "and you have not seen how many books are in each library. It would take a miracle to find the book, and, like the Portkey, it doesn't respond to spells. Its own magic repels it."
Hermione suddenly frowned. "Its own magic?" she questioned.
He nodded, seeming somewhat grave. Letting out a long, exasperated sigh, he explained solemnly, "Not enough, but enough. You see, it won't simply reveal itself to anybody, from what I gather." He stood upright and shook his head. "Which makes it altogether more difficult to find."
Hermione blanched slightly. It wouldn't reveal itself to anybody? But... she'd found it, or so she believed. "What--what happens if I find it?" Hermione asked attentively, watching for his reaction carefully. "I mean, I'm not part of your flesh and blood, and so--"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
Hermione dared to continue. "What if... what if I already found it?"
His head shot up from the floor as he focused in on her, scrutinizing her closely. "What?" he said. "You found it?" Hermione didn't respond verbally and only fidgeted slightly and looked to the floor. "Did you read it?"
Here, she felt forced to answer. "A--a little bit," she admitted quietly, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. "I was going to read more, but I never found the time..."
He was white with quite rage that she had found something and hadn't told him about it, especially when it was so personal and tied with his family line. Granted, they weren't the best of friends, but an invasion of privacy! "Show it to me," he commanded, his voice deathly. And, in such circumstances, Hermione didn't protest and immediately brought him into the library, her head bowed down, meek.
Her footsteps were relatively small but quick, and they made it to the library in record time. In her haste and, for lack of a better word, slight shame, she brought him to the library, chiding herself. If only she hadn't told him!
But, another voice piped up in her mind, no one said she couldn't read it. Granted, it was a very personal book, but other than common sense, well-- But it was only a little bit! And that little bit led to more curiosity, of course, and--
She groaned inwardly. She wasn't fooling anyone but herself. She was at fault this time around.
Suddenly, she paused at a bookshelf and ran her finger over the books, searching for that one dark binding with silver letters. "It was here..." she breathed as she furrowed her brows, not understanding why it was gone.
"Are you sure it's this bookshelf?" Draco asked, still irritated with her. He didn't seem to have patience.
She nodded. "It was!" she exclaimed, frustrated with its disappearance. She looked like a liar now as well as a cheat. "I remember this book--and then my eyes scanned over here and I found..."
Her breath was suddenly caught in place as she frowned. There, once again, was that small, worn book titled The History of the Malfoy Family Line. It hadn't been there a moment before...!
Reaching out, she slowly took the book from its place on the shelf, looking it over suspiciously. However, before she could finish her inspection, Draco had walked over and stripped the book from her hands. "Is this it?" he said coldly.
Hermione looked angered. I was at fault, she thought readily, but that gives him no excuse--! Particularly when she had saved him hours--perhaps days--of tedious, futile search. "No," she said sarcastically. "That's just a calendar I leave around in the library."
He ignored her comment as he started to walk away with it. Hermione pouted slightly and had to run to keep up with him. "So?" she said, irritated. "Oh, just walk away with it, why don't you? After all, no thank you, no--"
"Thank you," he said indifferently, though his words were cold and it was clear he didn't mean it. "Will you leave me alone now?"
Hermione was somewhat flabbergasted. He was perfectly civil only moments earlier; what had happened?
Picking up her pace, she said pointedly, "I hardly think that you would ask me to do the more laborious part of the work and not let me have any share in the more intriguing part, now, do I?"
He didn't even spare her a single glance. "Why would I wish to work with you any longer than I must?" By now, they had left the Maiden's library and were working their way down, past the sitting room.
At this, Hermione audibly scoffed. "Well, if you were going to tell me part of it, did you honestly think I'd help you find it and let it drop?" She laughed at the mere idea. "Even though we are deepest enemies, Malfoy, I doubted that even you knew me as little as that."
"Well, it doesn't seem to matter, does it? After all, you're so good at nosing into people's business--" Draco began hotly, his voice rising as he walked, still managing not to turn to look at her.
"If you want to bring up that subject again, then--" Hermione said, her voice covering Draco's, only for his to cover hers.
"Well, it seems like I do, don't I?" he said loudly.
Their protests of anger grew into shouts and yells. "Such immaturity--"
"--nosing through books that you know full well--"
"--tolerated, especially in the circumstances--"
"--but oh, no, you decided to simply go ahead and--"
"--over something as small as uncontrolled curiosity--"
"--and I simply cannot believe I'm arguing with a mindless person like you!" They had both finished off with the same line, both fuming and standing tall, eyes clouded with anger. The intense heat of the argument slowly and subtly retreated until an awkward silence hung in between them.
Hermione was the first to break it. "Well, then," she said somewhat briskly, "I assume, since I am quite a mindless person, that you won't be needing my help. Merlin knows that you'd go along so much faster by yourself." She sneered at him, being thoroughly sarcastic--and he knew she was, too.
When he did not respond but merely glared at her with his lips curled into anger, she turned on her heel and walked away, slamming the door to her bedroom to vent a bit of her retained anger. In fact, she was so furious that sleep came hard that night, until finally, her anger drained out and she passed out.
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The next day came and both Hermione and Draco awoke rather sore. Both of them promptly refused to even glance at each other, mainly for pride. On Draco's part, well--he was quite aware that with Hermione's aid, his research would be completed much faster. However, after their previous night's quarrel, he was not quite so willing to step down and admit his faults.
Though he could not be accused for this major pride issue--after all, Hermione had just as much pride as he did, if not more.
However, they allowed themselves to be distracted by Liah and Delilah. More precisely, Draco allowed himself to be distracted by Liah and Delilah, while Hermione allowed herself to be distracted by her complaints of their actions. And the prospect of going on a new adventure did somewhat help.
With a wary step toward the Portkey, the five of them latched upon the silver figure, Hermione last. The memories of their last group adventure lingered in her mind. Though her arm was quite well with Ariise's magical aid, she didn't want another incident happening like it--or worse.
Closing her eyes tightly as she felt the world spin around her, she wondered briefly where they were going to end up. What if she were to let go while they were in the middle of transportation...?
All too soon, before she was prepared, the winds died down and the cool metal disappeared from beneath her grasp. Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, she let her eyes flicker open as they fell upon acres of tiny villages and bold mountains shooting up from the earth to where she was. Gasping slightly, she took a step back, realizing that she was on one of these mountains, amidst all these clouds--without any railings to hold onto for protection from falling.
"What...?" Ariise said, frowning, looking at their attire of long, majestic robes and the jewelry they were given. Hermione cared not for the jewelry, unlike Liah and Delilah, who bickered over who had the better stones. Rather, she cared for the itchy, coarse things on her feet that she supposed were to be called sandals.
The building surrounding them were proud with Corinthian columns, grand steps, and noble designs. The modern day technology was gone.
"It's Mount Olympus," Liah said softly before Hermione could comprehend her surroundings as her eyes, too, flickered from the jewelry to around her. "The home of the Greek gods."
Upon this, Hermione felt excitement burst within her. She had always been fascinated by the Greeks, and here she was, living in the Greek culture for a day. And not only the culture, but as a god! Not even the Greeks were given this privilege!
"And we're one of them..." Draco muttered, not at all pleased by the situation as Hermione was. He let out a bark-like laugh. "That means the Portkey can be anywhere in the country... Oh, what fun."
Looking outward again, Hermione saw how vast the country was. She recalled the geography of the many islands of Greece, and, though she was slightly put down and intimidated, nothing would stop her from having a pleasant time here at Mount Olympus.
Draco, least of all.
With that thought, she let a small triumphant smile cross her face as she turned away from the rest of the group, ready to the adventure worthy of a pleasant title.
...Until there came Zeus.
