Chapter 9: Locked In and Locked Out.
"Are you sure it's ok if I come meet Crookshanks?" Maggie asked tentatively, she and Magnus had agreed to play it cool with their new older friends and not overstay their welcome.
"Of course, I've got quite a few alternate editions of Hogwarts a History you might want to take a look at too." Hermione led the young girl through the portrait hole and on to her room which she was very much fond of, specifically the entire wall she had transformed into a library "Wow" Maggie breathed as her round eyes took in all of the volumes stacked ceiling to floor.
"Now let's see what's in this package, perhaps it's a present from my parents!" Skipping towards the package Maggie in tow Hermione noticed some of the finer details of the large box perched on her desk. The stamps were not of British origin, the brown paper was dirty and the box looked bashed, she slowed her pace, she heard a scrabbling noise and something in her brain clicked, she knew what was in that box, her stomach plummeted. She threw herself round to face Maggie, in that split second she saw the brown paper vanish and she saw what was in it and she took a strange solace in the fact she had been right. There was a loud pop, Hermione threw her entire body onto Maggie's, they crashed, the spines imbedded into her back, she screamed in agony as the toxins seeped into her flesh.
Her door flew open; she saw his blonde hair and his worried face flying towards her. Before she seized up entirely she managed to utter "Atherurus" and then everything went blank, strange noises penetrated her dwindling psyche as she fell deeper into a darkened tunnel that engulfed her very senses.
"MADAME POMFREY!" Draco bellowed as he entered the hospital wing, Hermione slung over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, her back stuck with hundreds of lurid quills or spines. George was close behind carrying a very pale lifeless Maggie, her arm not unlike Hermione's back.
"What on Merlin's name has happened?" The nurse screeched, indicating Hermione be placed on a bed. Draco carefully lay her face down for fear he pushed any of the lurid stingers stuck into her back any deeper. His cheeks flushed as the nurse removed the girl's bra and t-shirt with a flick of her wand Careful not to disturb any of the protruding weapons.
"Parcel bomb, I don't know what was in it, when I got in the desk was burned and She was… she was lying like that… I should have been faster." he choked in between gasps.
"You ran as fast as you could mate, it's not your fault." George uttered as he placed Maggie carefully on to another bed.
"Go get the head mistress; I'll need you to floo the ministry, if this has happened before they may have a cure. They're still alive…. step to it." The nurse began to examine Hermione, the more severely injured of the two.
"I'll get the ministry, you get Minerva." George panted, turning away from the stricken Malfoy.
Draco was driven by sheer terror; bile swelled to his throat as he flew through the corridors calling the portraits to action "Alert the headmistress, she is needed in the hospital wing." in the hopes word would get to her in less time than it would take him to run through the school. As he predicted after only a few moments his head mistresses was limping hurriedly up the passage he was running down "What's afoot Mr Malfoy?" She asked breathlessly.
"It's Granger Miss, she's been attacked, one of those parcel bombs I think… George is contacting the ministry, Pomfrey is treating them." Draco clutched the stitch in his chest as he made a U-turn and headed back to the hospital wing, his headmistress hobbling beside him at an unimaginable pace. "You said them Malfoy, who else was injured?" McGonagall asked her breath short and words clipped.
"Maggie McDuffie, Granger shielded her from what looks like a… a bloody hail of darts. She's been hit Miss, but not as bad as Granger." His eye's remained forward, his voice shaking.
"Did she say anything boy?" The headmistress stopped, grabbing the running boy and bringing him round to face her. She knew Hermione and she knew the girl would solve the case with her dying breath if she could.
"Ather…urus" Draco whispered, eyes closed, straining to sieve through the horror to uncover the facts.
"Is that it? Are you sure that's what she said?" Minerva was almost nose to nose with the strained man, her grip on his arm tightening, her usual 'held-together' exterior cracking. She would not lose another student.
"Yes" Draco nodded emphatically, determined to return to Hermione's bedside.
Minerva released him suddenly "I don't know what that means…" the old headmistress was at a loss and without a backwards glance Draco was sprinting towards the hospital wing again, she began her more painful walk with less ease than before. The bloody leg would insist on seizing up every time there was an emergency, with a sigh the old witch shook her cane and uttered some unspoken words, bristles exploded from its end. She mounted the broom side saddle and kicked off towards the waiting pandemonium of the hospital wing, a currently explosive pandemonium she was going to be blissfully unaware of for the next 10 seconds, she dismounted at the door turning her broom back into a cane and reached for the door knob turning it 2 seconds, 1…
"SHE DOESN'T WANT YOU HERE!" A hairless Ron Weasley was screaming into Draco Malfoy's face, little globs of spittle flying out of his gaping mouth, he reminded Madame Pomfrey of a giant gorilla she'd seen at the movies that one time she'd dated a Muggle.
"Where is our daughter?" a small older woman with spirals of red hair was wailing in a thick Scottish brogue as she clutched a man who was much taller than her, and seemed to be dressed in farm wear.
With a crack Mr and Mrs Granger appeared in the hospital wing, both dressed in gardening togs, both very surprised at their own arrival in this alien environment. Mrs Granger seemed to be the first to register what was happening and looked wildly around "Hermione must be hurt, she told us about the new medical emergency thing the minister had put through after the war… she told me we weren't on hers… and when she got the letter saying she was…" Mrs Granger's tone swelled and her finger came up to Minerva's nose in an accusatory fashion "Saying she was coming back to this death trap of a school… I Insisted… I bloody knew she'd get hurt again; you invited my baby to enter a world where people want her dead just for existing and then you leave her to fix it? Her and her two little friends… You" she prodded Minerva in the chest, the older witch let her, somewhat sharing the Muggle woman's sentiments "You let children fight for you… My mother fled war so I and my children could live in peace and you and your bloody magical school have turned my child into a soldier. She watched her friends die, she hardly sleeps."
"Mrs Granger." Ron approached Jean with an outstretched arm and oddly patronizing expression on his face "It's not Minerva's fault, Hermione knew what she was…"
"And you… you… you oaf of a boy. She doesn't want you here, you were her emergency contact after the war because we were brain dead but you… you did nothing but hold Hermione back…" Jean was interrupted once again by Ron who had a look of indignation on his plum of a head.
"I tried to hold her back from coming here… where you don't want her to be." Ron argued and soon found his throat tightly in the grasp of the usually very prim Mrs Granger.
"I might not want my daughter in danger you absolute tool of a boy, but I do want her to be the best she can be and unfortunately the best she can be is in this bloody school. You thought you could hitch your very pale star to my daughters wagon, well you failed you ginger rat, now leave." She spat, and before he could argue any further he was gone with a sudden pop, everyone turned to Pomfrey who had stopped her ministrations to remove the boy "Parents have priority, not jilted exes." She said plainly before returning to the application of anti inflammatory salve to the still imbedded barbs. Mrs Granger noticed her daughter's presence for the first time "Hermione, darling what's happened." Hermione did not respond, her eyes remained closed, every muscle in her body paralysed, she could hear though, the haze of her brain clearing slightly, she could hear her mothers voice and footsteps and the haze overtook again and everything was blank.
George Weasley entered the hospital wing in a flurry, he quickly handed the nurse the missive he had just been sent from the ministry and eyed her warily as she unrolled the parchment and read. The two sets of parents, the teacher and the students all stared at Poppy's face as she took in the words from the ministry. She frowned slightly then looked up at the anxious faces gathered around her "The news could be worse, nobodies died from this." She secretly added the word "Yet" in her head "We've got time which is a good thing. The boys in deadly toxins haven't been able to trace the origin of the poisonous arrows so don't yet have an antidote, they say given Maggie's limited exposure there's a chance she might not exhibit full symptoms…" Pomfrey was interrupted by the anxious Mrs Granger "What are the symptoms?" the older woman chewed her lip much like her daughter was prone.
"Fever and paralysis seem to be the main concerns, the actual contact points… I think Miss Granger has some of her all occasion poison salve in her dorm… that'll be more effective than anything we've got in stock here… George go get Hermione's healer box she keeps it in under her bed." Some of the onlookers seemed shocked at the nurses intimate knowledge of Hermione's personal space "She brought me some new burn salve she'd been working on and asked me to test it out on students… she told me she was still working on her healing potions… just in case, poor girl." George didn't need further instruction, he was back off through the halls completely sure of what he was looking for.
Anyone who served in or even against the order would be familiar with little Miss Granger's giant box of healing, full of soaked gauze, muggle tools for magically unstable wounds and the fifty different burn salves she'd created after Draco Malfoy had walked back into her life each one better than the last and each one she wished she'd had that day, she was obsessed with shrinking his scar.
"Will our Maggie be ok?" the small red headed woman asked in a shaking voice as she eyed her pale and still daughter who was being treated by one of Madame Pomfrey's assistants.
"She's in very good hands, Poppy is one of the best healers in the world" Minerva said soothingly to the unassuming little woman who'd been in stunned silence.
"She's very fond of Hermione, she writes us nearly every day telling us about how Hermione and her class mates have helped her fit in." The little red headed woman sobbed as she bustled over to her sick daughter, her husband in tow.
"If you'd like we can set you back home and contact…" Minerva started but was cut short by Mr Granger.
"We'll be staying with our girl and so will they, my wife and I might not be Wizards but we've got a right to be by her side… to make up for all the times we weren't at least." He said gruffly.
"I'll have Nurse Wainscott set up some rooms for you; do you need to contact home, perhaps to let your friends and families know you'll be gone?" Poppy said kindly, though continued the removal of the barbs from Hermione's back as instructed in the ministry document.
"We… we need a phone." Jean said, eye's welling with unshed tears.
"We don't…" the headmistress was interrupted once again, this time by Draco Malfoy who up until that point had remained in a terrified silence, eyes fixed on Hermione's bare back and the hundreds of spines protruding from it.
"Little Maggie has a phone headmistress, she and Magnus got it to work on school grounds." Maggie's mother nodded in agreement and quickly set about searching the unconscious child's robes. When she'd found the device she handed, with trembling fingers, to the other mother "here." Jean accepted it gratefully and with a similar cool head as her daughter's and exited the ward to contact her colleagues and family to let them know she and her husband would be away indefinitely and that Hermione had fallen ill at "University in America" the lie they had created to explain their daughter's recent absence.
"I'm heading to the library… I don't know how else to help." Draco said his voice strained. Mr Granger noted with some surprise the throbbing vein in the boy's neck and the apparent tears welling in his eyes. The last his daughter had mentioned of the Malfoy boy had been when she was a child, about how much of a brutish bully he was, he had no idea they had been friends since then.
"I'll send word to you if there is any change." Minerva nodded curtly, knowing the boy would be mortified if he broke in front of her.
Mr Granger paced by his daughter's bedside, the other couple had gone to a small room with the younger nurse. He could hear shaking sobs and gruff mumbling coming from behind the door and shivered a little, he wasn't the type of man who cried in these situations, he was a military man… but the knot in his chest was as tight as a funeral drum and he could feel the tears threatening every time he glanced down at his daughter who was still having spines carefully removed from her pale back. His wife had been gone for quite a while, he continued to pace
"Do you have any questions Mr Granger?" Pomfrey asked with a reassuring tone, Mr Granger looked at her questioningly, she clarified :"My grandparents were Muggles, I didn't know much about them, once my mother came to Hogwarts she really cut off all ties with the Muggle community… it's a shame really. I think our ministers are just so scared we'll be discovered… they don't really allow for a world where we can include our Muggle families, so if there's anything… anything at all I can help you understand I'll be happy to help." Poppy said softly.
"Will my daughter live?" Mr Granger asked the only question he could think of.
Mrs Granger looked around the large room in wonderment, large tapestries, glittering plaques with swirling engraved words, moving pictures of grinning faces, books piled floor to ceiling and magical portraits of grinning old men and women who whispered excitedly when she entered.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" McGonagall asked as she took a seat behind her desk and retrieved a large book.
"Please." Mrs Granger's eyes remained trained on a large swathe of fabric, a whisper seemed to be coming from behind it, a reassuring whisper that told her everything would be ok. "What's behind that curtain?" she questioned curiously, Minerva saw in the older woman much of Hermione's curiosity and glibness.
"He's eager to talk to you obviously, even I can feel it." The old head mistress said as she stood and moved towards the covered portrait, she pulled the rope and revealed the swirling grinning image of Albus Dumbledore.
"You." Mrs Granger gasped, recognising the old man immediately.
"You've met Dumbledore?"
"He's Dumbledore?"
"I am Dumbledore." the old man responded with a grin.
"You... were in the hospital; that was you wasn't it?" Mrs Granger clutched her chest, memories that were long buried wormed to the top of her conscious.
"It was me." The old painting grinned puckishly
"What on earth is going on here?" The head mistress was looking between the anxious woman and the painting of her old friend like a rally of tennis.
"He was there when I was in labour..." Mrs Granger fell silent, the memories of that night finally clear, the dream that had not been a dream at all returned to her as if... by magic.
19 years ago...
Jean Granger was at a good age for childbearing, that's what her doctor had said, she wasn't too young, she wasn't too old, she was just right. The pregnancy had gone off without a hitch, well except for the whole 'blowing out lights' thing. Her very elderly grandmother had informed her that this phenomenon was a result of built up static electricity. Every bloody light switch she touched resulted in blown fuses, burst bulbs and three neighbourhood wide black outs. She had been banned from touching all light switches by her anxious husband.
"Can I push yet?" she asked the midwife whose head was between her legs.
"Not yet dear, you're not dilated enough." the pretty woman responded as she stood and covered Mrs Granger's nether region, Jean sighed dejectedly.
"Chill out sweetheart" Derek Granger said with a grin as he patted his sweaty wife's hand.
"Chill out? Chill out?" Jean asked shrilly, the midwife pulled an uncomfortable face before leaving to allow the young couple some 'space' "There is a human being the size of a bloody watermelon residing in my uterus and it wants to come out... unfortunately the peanut sized door isn't ready yet and the bloody monster you put inside me doesn't care because He or She is like his or her father and lacks patience!" Jean Granger let out another groan "If it carries on like this we're going to have to cut it out..." she sighed, she had wanted a natural birth.
"Relax ok, if you relax your body will do what needs to be done." her kind but clueless husband said soothingly, stroking the thick curls that were plastered to her damp head.
Hours passed, occasionally a nurse or doctor would pop in to look at her 'hooha' only to tell her it wasn't ready. Her husband who could sleep through anything was doing what he did best and snoring loudly in the arm chair beside her. It must have been about 2am, pain coursed through her lower body as the living beast inside of her struggled to gain freedom. She groaned resignedly as the door to her room opened again, she expected a nurse, a doctor or a family member, she was shocked when an old man with the longest beard she had ever seen entered the dark room, her husband did not stir.
"Hello there." the old bearded man said with the kind of smile that warmed Jean's tired and panicked heart.
"Hello" she attempted to sit up.
"no no dear, you lie down. I just popped over to check how you were getting on." he smiled and dropped a hard candy into his mouth.
"Are you... are you a friend of my parents?" Jean asked as she looked up at the white bearded man in wonder, he didn't dress like anyone she'd ever encountered. The long cloak he wore looked like something from an ancient painting, the small round hat also looked out of place... he was entirely out of place.
"Not quite, I am a friend of the family though, or I will be at least." he grinned again, Jean knew that under any other circumstance that this encounter should be terrifying, but the kind eyed elderly gentleman only made her feel at ease. The pain had stopped, her breathing no longer felt laboured and the intense heat which had been crawling over her skin seemed to abate somewhat.
"May I?" he asked his hand hovering over her swollen belly, she nodded in acquiesce fascinated by his sparkling eyes. The old man lowered his long fingered hand to her large bump and almost instantly let out a giggle "She's eager to get started!" he laughed with a wink at Jean, who just looked back in perplexed stunned silence, the only other noise in the room; her husband's loud snores. "With life I mean, she's very excited to see the world... my goodness she's strong!" he giggled again.
"She?" Jean asked, her voice shaken, tears filling her tired eyes.
"Oh yes, a very powerful little girl." he nodded "That explains the funny readings at the ministry." he added to himself as he pulled his hand away.
"The ministry?" the pregnant woman asked, feeling a little hollow without the strangers touch.
"Don't you worry yourself Mrs Granger, all you need know is that a very healthy and very special little girl is going to be a big part of your world in a very short time." he closed his cloak and patted the woman's head. "You're going to be a very good mother, and when the time comes you're going to have to send your daughter into the unknown. But know this Mrs Granger, your little girl will be loved and protected and when the time comes she'll make an impact so deep that her name will be whispered on the winds for the rest of time." the old man smiled one of his twinkling soothing smiles before turning away from her.
"her name?" she asked, bewitched by the sparkling cloak and white beard.
"hmm yes, I always liked the name Hermione." he added opening the door.
"like in Greek mythology?" Jean asked breathily, there was a pressure building in her belly.
"No, like the David Bowie song, he's an old friend." The old man quipped with a smile as he vanished. Before Jean could process the whole encounter there was a wave of pressure like nothing she'd ever felt before. "She's coming!" She screamed at her husband who shot up suddenly.
"Who is coming?" he asked sleepily, stumbling about the room looking for a light switch.
"The baby! The old man… I don't remember but… she's coming!" Jean bellowed as a pain like nothing she'd ever felt before started ripping at her groin.
"HOLY SHIT!" Her husband screamed as he starting pressing every button in his eye line, hoping one would alert a member of staff.
After 14 minutes and 37 seconds of pushing Jean Granger was holding her daughter, a baby with large eyes that were eager to take in everything and wrinkled little arms that stretched up and grasped at the air.
"How did you know it was a girl?" Mr Granger asked as he stroked his wife's damp hair.
"The old man… did an old man visit with me?" her memories of the encounter were already hazing over.
"No old men… must've been one of those hormone dreams or something." Her husband responded unable to take his eyes off of his little baby girl. "What do we call her then?"
"Hermione… Hermione Granger." His wife responded instantly.
"Where did that come from?"
"I don't know, it just… it fits don't you think? And it's unique and she's unique… don't you think?" she asked, nervous and exhausted.
"I do, it's a good name… I mean I think it's the first time I've heard it on a baby but it's good. Hello Hermione Granger, welcome to the world" Mr Granger said, and silently a pulse went out across the land, the old man standing across the road from the hospital, unseen and unremembered by Mrs Granger smiled, knowing that one day everything would be alright.
"Did you make me forget?" Jean Granger asked with an accusatory finger pointed at the painting of the old man.
"Not quite" he had but he wasn't going to admit it "… and really you remembered the important parts, you let her come here and you knew she was special." The painting answered, unfazed by the waving finger of an angry mother.
"You interfering old coot." McGonagall inserted as she passed Mrs Granger a fresh cup of tea, the original cup now cold after going unnoticed.
"You named her… is there some significance there?" Jean had her pragmatic hat back on.
"No… genuinely it just seemed like a nice name and I had been listening to space odyssey that day." The old man in the painting popped a painted bonbon into his mouth.
"Will my girl survive?" she asked the old man who had comforted her in her most trying moment all those years ago.
"Yes." He said resolutely, this made the headmistress blink, Dumbledore rarely offered false hope.
"Dumbledore…" Minerva began but he cut her off.
"Just as I was confident Hermione would survive the dark wars, I am confident she will survive this." He smiled kindly at Mrs Granger who believed him wholeheartedly, just as she had done that night when she was terrified her baby would never come out.
"We've set up a room for you and your husband in the hospital wing; I'll have an elf send up…" Minerva was interrupted this time by Mrs Granger.
"Not an enslaved elf I hope?" the two old heads smiled at her; clearly Hermione had been taking her causes home.
"A paid elf will bring some food to you; we've taken the liberty of having some clothes run up for you too." Minerva finished with a pleasant smile, there was a knock at the door "Enter" the headmistress called and George Weasley came in looking very pale and very tired. "Could you guide Mrs Granger back to the hospital wing for me please?" George nodded and held the door open for Jean who was standing and gathering her belongings.
"Thank you." Jean half smiled at the painting of the old man.
"She's a special girl." Dumbledore chimed as the door closed behind the terrified mother.
Minerva McGonagall had a special face, one she reserved solely for Dumbledore's antics. She pulled that face and stared at her old friend who now resided in a world of paint and ether "There is a prophesy?" it should have been a question but it fell from her mouth as a statement. The old man nodded. "Why have I not been informed, surely as headmistress if one of my pupils is in danger I should at least be informed of it?"
"There were two, the first is obsolete… it was made before the birth of Harry Potter by his mother." Dumbledore said as if this would be enough to satiate his former colleague's keen mind
"What did she say Albus?" Minerva asked eagerly.
"That a child named for a god, born of muggles and rich with magic would befriend and protect her baby… I was the only one who heard it and so really saw no purpose in registering it… it would only give the dark lord some new reason to kill babies." He said resolutely.
"Hermione… named for a god… you are a meddling old bastard." Minerva responded.
"I'm not meddling I'm old fashioned and besides that name was meant for her."
"And the second secret prophesy?" Minerva's voice dripped with agitation.
"I have not heard it, as I understand it there is only two people who know of it… what I have been able to gather from my meetings with some other paintings is that the world has a plan for Miss Granger so you see my dear Minerva, our girl can't die… the world wouldn't let her." Dumbledore stuck his chin out defiantly.
"Well my 'dear Albus' you're forgetting that not all prophesies are meant to be." Minerva responded, her tone just as stubborn as the paintings.
"I believe that this one is." He concluded, the curtain which was pulled back from his painting dropped suddenly and covered him again.
"I knew he could do magic" Minerva muttered before returning to her tea, if only to really think things through.
Draco Malfoy had no idea what time it was as he pulled, what felt like, the millionth book from a shelf; 'Dark Hexes and their counters' he flicked to the index and started scanning for the word "Atherurus" he had written down several alternate spellings for the last word that had fallen from his only friend's lips as she fell into darkness. After checking the index he used a spell Hermione had come up with in order to search entire books for single words… that spell however required the correct spelling and he wasn't sure. He did think he'd heard it before though… he was almost entirely convinced it was a word he'd heard come from her mouth… a long time ago.
"I'm closing up." Madame Pince said with little to no tone in her voice.
"Good for you." Malfoy made no sign of his own departure.
"Pack up your belongings Mr Malfoy and get back to your dorm, it's already past curfew." The snappish librarian jingled the library keys.
"You let Granger stay in here after hours… why not me?" he asked, rage bubbling under his tone.
"Miss Granger has a respect for the written word that you do not."
"Miss Granger is lying in a hospital bed dying of a mysterious ailment, I am at this moment attempting to remedy the situation but am failing quite substantially given that I'm wasting precious moments explaining myself to you!" he wasn't sure when his voice had gone from speaking to shouting but it had, and the normally cold and composed Pince looked tiny and terrified.
"I hadn't heard" was all she could muster.
"Well now you have" Malfoy responded returning his attention to the book of dark hexes. He heard a jingle and felt a thud beside him; he looked round to see the library key's lying beside his bag "lock up when you are done." The old librarian said sadly before stalking from the library and making a bee-line for the hospital wing to check on her favourite pupil (her favouritism displayed itself by not being as horrid to the Granger girl as she was to the other children) wondering and then dismissing the notion that she could help Mr Malfoy. Madame Pince's greatest secret was that she knew every book in that school library and where to find them but Merlin help her if she was ever asked what was in one of them, she hadn't ever turned a page in the academic section of her home. Madame Pince cared only to read tell all biographies and slightly steamy romances… but only she knew this.
Draco didn't know when he'd fallen asleep exactly, but when he did finally open his eyes it was to find the library in complete darkness except for a small light further down the row of shelves he was currently investigating.
"Who's there?" he called drawing his wand and pointing it towards the light.
"It's me." A small voice uttered, the light now moving closer to him.
"Who?" Draco remained in attack mode, still only capable of seeing the ball of light, suddenly Magnus' small face was visible the rest of his body following "Gaze Shifter powder" The little boy said, explaining his invisibility.
"What are you doing here?" The man asked the boy.
"Same thing you are Draco, saving my woman." The little pale boy said with the intensity of one far beyond his years. Had the situation not been so dire, Draco would have laughed… Hermione would have enjoyed it.
"Just don't get in my way." Draco's mood had been deepened by the thought of Hermione.
Hours passed and the sun rose on two very pale, very blonde and very scared students. Even with the extra set of eyes Draco was no closer to locating the word, the strange word that had fallen from his Hermione's lips.
"this is useless." The younger of the two snapped, throwing the large book onto the floor.
"Go sleep, you'll be useless if you can't focus." Draco croaked, his throat dry as he scanned the millionth page of the world's largest book of exotic poisons.
"If Maggie and Hermione were here they'd know what to do." Magnus wailed sorrowfully like a puppy split from his litter.
"If they were here they'd goggle it." Draco responded dismissively.
"You mean Google… but they would…" And the little boy was off, his tiny body driven forward by legs running on adrenaline and vapours. Draco, who had hardly been paying attention as he scanned a page about sleeping poisons looked up in shock and surprise before diligently returning to his intensive scanning.
"Hello?" Hermione said quietly, the dark room she currently occupied scared her to the core. "Lumos!" she shouted waving her hand, very capable of minor wandless magic in any other circumstance.
There was no light.
She shivered; she felt whispers of cool air cross her skin. Panic and bile rose in her throat, she didn't know how but she knew she'd never see her mother again and the thought petrified her. This must be hell, she thought as she walked through the endless, lightless abyss in which she now resided. "Hello?" she called again, her voice echoed off of walls of nothing, taunting her with her own solitude. Her chest heavy she ploughed on… and then she stopped. She was short of breath and 'how could a dead person be short of breath?' She reasoned as she let herself drop into a crossed legged seated position.
"Where was I last?" she asked out lout, searching her foggy mind for her most recent memories.
"You shouldn't talk to yourself, it makes you look mental" a voice drawled from somewhere to her right.
"Draco?" she was terrified to hope.
"No… just the part of your brain used for problem solving." Draco's voice replied.
"Why do you sound like Malfoy then?" she asked scathingly, the derisive drawl irritating her.
"Don't ask me, we're in your brain Granger." Her own mind mocked her in the voice of her…what was he? A friend? "You should try your magic again, now that you're aware it'll be easier."
"Aware of what?" she noted with a slight flicker of relief that fear was no longer her primary emotion, irritation had usurped it.
"That all is not lost Granger" she felt a playful nudge on her shoulder, the sudden contact making her jump and her breath to hitch.
"sorry." He said, though he really didn't sound it.
Hermione raised her hand, focused her mind and declared "Lumos" the spell was more intense than she had imagined light flared from her hands and filled the cavernous space only to reveal it wasn't a giant space at all. She was in library of sorts, with shelves that stretched into the darkness up and along, a never ending row in a library like no other she'd ever encountered.
"Where the hell are we?" She gasped staring at the many tomes, all varying in colour and size.
"Welcome to the beautiful mind of you." Draco spun with arms outstretched.
"What happened to me?" she sobbed lightly, petrified that she'd be trapped in her own mind for eternity with only her memories and sarcastic Draco for company. She did know he was telling the truth though, she knew because she knew he was actually her own mind, she could feel it.
"Well that's what we're here to find out surely… or are you here to solve some deep dark mystery of the heart?" He smirked and tapped his finger on a large purple book with thick leather bindings "What about this one? It's called 'Kissing Weasley's!' shall we peruse?" He continued to smirk, much like pre war Malfoy. She didn't mind it entirely.
"How is me working out what happened, going to help out there?" she indicated outside of her body.
"maybe its just to keep you busy, we could make out instead?" he sidled towards her.
"Making out with you… well that's just making out with the rational part of my brain… which means I'd just be making out with myself, and I do not want to make out with myself." She nodded decisively, making the strange apparition of Draco Malfoy grin. "We need to work out where I was last." she began to scan the books on the shelves of her mind.
"You're taking this all very well I thought I'd have to rationalise a lot more." He chuckled and fell into step behind her.
"Libraries soothe me… and what am I going to do? Argue with myself? I'm not mental" Hermione pulled out a book marked with today's date and smiled.
Magnus was not a sporty chap; he was painfully skinny and liked tasks that involved sitting. Maggie was a ball of energy who enjoyed brisk walks and rough housing; he attributed his new found stamina to the girl who lay in the hospital wing having made it from the library to his dorm and back without stopping once. He flew into the library clutching the flat device "She leant me a tablet, so we could IM after curfew… to share ideas and stuff." Magnus blushed a little, Draco wondered for a brief second what on earth this pair had left to say to each other "I… we can Google it…" the little boy slumped to the floor and began nervously tapping on the flat pane of glass, the tablet lit up and Magnus inexpertly found the internet icon (he only used the pad for chatting to Maggie and occasionally playing angry birds) he began to type the original spelling of the word Draco had heard. He hit search… "Brush-tailed porcupine - Wikipedia, the free encyclopaedia" he read out, fumbling over the words.
"It was a porcupine!" Hermione cheered, reaching for the manifestation of Draco and hugging him tightly in celebration, she went limp suddenly "god… even I don't know if there's a cure for that." She slumped to the floor.
"Nonsense, Draco is on the case and he's very clever… and handsome." The Draco of her mind said haughtily.
"You know you're not actually him right?" it had been a long while since they'd had a good snipe at each other.
"Yes I am aware of this" Draco said gracefully falling into a cross legged seat next to her "I also know why I've appeared as him, given that I am the smartest part of you." Draco was starting to sound more like her, 'no wonder I find it hard to make friends' she thought as she looked at his nose sticking in the air, much like hers did when she knew something other people didn't. "Why then know-it-all?" Hermione asked, it felt good to call someone else that… even if it was her.
"I'm him because you like him." He smirked.
"Of course I like him, he's my friend."
"Don't play coy with me Granger; I'm privy to your thoughts and feelings… even if I do think they're mental sometimes." The rational part of her brain raised an eyebrow at her; she looked away with a grunt.
"I don't want to talk about this." She whined, continuing to avoid eye contact with him.
"We've never been one to be afraid of the unknown." The use of the collective made Hermione look into the pale grey eyes she knew so well.
"I'm an emotional fuck up." She blurted.
"No you're not, you're young and naïve and experiencing things for the first time." Draco rationalised as he patted her arm.
"I'm… I'm unfaithful." Her voice trembled, tears she had literally been holding in for two years spilled from her eyes.
"You were broken up… see this is why I'm always trying to tell you to ignore your emotions. You're punishing yourself for a crime you didn't commit" the voice had changed and when she looked up Draco was no longer sitting beside her instead it was her mother, her ever pragmatic mother. Hermione wailed harder, she lunged forward and was caught up in the older woman's strong arms.
"Mum." Hermione cooed happily.
"I'm still you, I'm still your logical, pragmatic problem solving centre… I just thought it'd be easier to talk to a woman." Her fake mother reasoned. Hermione pulled away.
"I… we weren't properly broken up… he was always falling out with me." She said sadly "I knew we'd get back… well eventually we always did." Her breath shuddered.
"It was a possibility but it wasn't a certainty, you were on the verge of war… you were scared, he comforted you." The apparition of Hermione's mother changed shape again, she felt the soft curves harden to tense muscle. "We didn't do anything wrong." The 'oh too familiar' yet long lost voice whispered into her hair. She let out a shuddering breath, terrified to look up, terrified to see a ghost.
Draco furrowed his brow and used all of his mental capability to sift through the records of his memories, he knew these words, he knew they meant something and he knew they were in a book "Brush Tailed Porcupine… brush…" the memory he sought shot back into his brain as if delivered by sling shot
It had been third year and he had been stalking the grounds on a hot Saturday afternoon, searching for someone to try and make as miserable as him. If he wasn't happy how dare other people be, then he'd heard it.
"The Night Crested Brush Tail Porcupine also known as Noir Atherurus Africanus, is an old world porcupine found only in Africa The beast is best known for its …"
"Granger don't you know that talking to yourself is a sign of Mudblood insanity?" Draco had stepped in on Hermione's private outdoor study session, the large "monster books of monsters" lay open between her crossed legs; she continued to stroke the spine as she read.
"I'm studying ferret, shove off." Hermione continued to read, whispering the words to herself as she went.
"Can't you read in your head like a grown up?" he queried as he took up a stance leaning against the tree Hermione sat under, looking down over her shoulder to the text she read… and occasionally the gap in her blouse.
"Ron hit me with a jabbering curse I can't stop talking... thought it best to come outside and read…" and after the concise sentences that offered no insight to her inner workings she did just that.
He considered toying with her some more but he saw his friends in the distance heading to the forest so he made do with a not too gentle kick at her knee as he passed by. What he hadn't counted on was the large book that rested between her legs leaping to her defence and latching on with teeth that felt like a thousand paper cuts.
"Didn't you know that if you were good to your book he'd look after you?" she asked as she stood and surveyed the blonde bully now lying writhing on the floor, the book still gnawing on his leg.
"Get… get it off."
"Here bookie." Hermione cooed and the book instantly dislodged itself and flapped to where she stood, she muttered under her breath all the while.
"Trust you… making friends with a monster." Draco pulled himself to his feet and spat violently to clear his mouth of the dirt it had gathered in the tussle.
"I like taming the volatile. It gives me a rush!" She grinned and wandered away, the book following her, gentle murmurs escaping her lips.
"What the fuck does that mean mudblood?" he shouted after her unsure whether she'd just sassed him and he'd been too dumb to pick up on it.
"Pince!" Draco yelled and scurried to his feet, he'd summon her if he had to. He bolted from the row he was currently residing in and headed for the door, running straight into the aforementioned librarian.
"Monster book of monsters?" he shouted clutching her shoulders.
"Excuse me?" she squawked like an angry parrot and swatted his hands away.
"Where is it? The monster book of monsters?" he ran a hand through his hair anxiously, felt rage bubble in his stomach at the woman's slow pace.
"I don't keep a copy, Hagrid may…" she didn't get to finish as Draco had begun running again, driven by adrenaline and fresh hope. He ran through the school, bundling into children who were clearly on their way to early breakfast, school robes draping from their tired frames. He had no idea what day it was, never mind what time all he knew was that he had to find Hagrid and pray to Merlin that he still had a copy of that god awful book.
"Mister Malfoy!" a voice of some unknown professor roared as he shoved him into a corridor to ease his passage.
"Sorry." He called over his shoulder, not meaning it in the slightest.
When Draco found himself at the door of the groundskeepers hut he knew he was bruised and possibly suffering from shock or stress, his chest was unbearably tight and his face burning red. He struggled to get breath but found he couldn't, panic, terror, explosive pops behind his eyes. He clutched at his throat then felt a strong arm on his neck, the hand guided him somewhere and then he felt ice cold water soak into his face and shoulders and he snapped out of it. Throwing himself back and out of the fresh water barrel he inhaled sharply "I don't know…" he started, the shake in his voice irritating him.
"Panic attack." Hagrid opened the door to his hut to invite Malfoy in but refused to look at him, there were some wounds that took longer to heal and the Malfoy boy had tormented this gentle giant and sabotaged his career.
"Monster book of monsters, Hermione… needs… the answers in the book." Draco breathed heavily as he pulled his bone tired body into the giant's abode. Hagrid needed no other instruction he hurried to his bookshelf and removed an old tattered copy. It snapped playfully at the giant's hand but seemed incapable of any more.
"This was 'ermione's copy. She couldn't bare to shelf it, gave 'im to me cause she knew I'd let him out and look after 'im."
"Brush tail porcupine." Draco reached for the greying book and only managed to pull his fingers back from the still sharpened teeth at the last minute "please… she needs this." He whimpered, he actually whimpered. Malfoy had never felt this vulnerable in his life, he knew it was the lack of sleep and the promise he'd made to himself. The book as if sensing his remerging panic shuffled to him slowly and flipped open to the right page, Draco jabbed his finger at the image of the Night crested Porcupine and let out a shuddering breath, focusing his eyes and beginning to read:
"The Night Crested Brush Tail Porcupine also known as Noir Atherurus Africanus, is an old world porcupine found only in Africa. The beast is best known for its use in dark African magic as natural producers of a neurotoxin known to locals as "prison juice" (translation) the effect is simple and devastating. Anyone pricked falls into a waking coma, the victim trapped in their own minds for eternity, the longer the exposure and higher the dosage the harder the victim is to wake. Some researches have found that legends and fairy tails of women made to fall into similar sleeps are in fact early recordings of the Night Crest. These beasts are rare given that they can not be produced in the wild, this wizard made species must be created through artificial insemination and then the infant night crest reared by human hand kept away from all other living creatures. The night crest is not by nature a bad creature, this poor beast lives its entire life in a state of barely hinged terror the breeder must carefully raise the beast for eight months before its spines reach maturity. In old tribes it is believed the beast was put to sleep with a draught in it's milk then carefully disguised as a parcel, once delivered the noises of the unwrapping would rouse the Night Crest terrifying it into self destruction sending a hail of it's poisoned spines into the flesh of the unsuspecting victim. Luckily the effort and time needed to rear these creatures means they are rarely seen and there has not been an attack since 1844 and never one on British soil." Draco scanned through some more bizarre facts about this horrid beast before his eyes landed on the words he desperately sought "the only known remedy for the "Prison Juice" is a 'paste of Teken uit'" Draco stopped reading and leapt again from the table "I need to see Snape." He headed towards the door but was stopped by the large bearded giant.
"I've owled 'im, he'll be 'ere in a minute, just sit and rest for a second lad. You'll do yourself in and you won't be no 'elp to the girl then, will you?" Malfoy wasn't sure when Hagrid had manoeuvred him to the chair but he had, he slumped defeated and stared at the door willing his professor and god father to hurry. As if on cue the door flew open and Snape swooped in, his eyes intent and determined.
"Teken uit?" he asked Hagrid directly.
"Aye, I've not made nor seen it myself but when the lad said about the Porcupine I knew tha's what 'ermione needed."
"If you knew, why did you bother letting me read?" Draco protested, his sudden outburst taking his godfather aback.
"You needed to sit down and focus lad, I owled the potions master as soon as you started." Hagrid said not unkindly.
"I know how to brew this; I spent a year in training with a Zulu wizard. The paste is used for snake bites when all else has failed. Do you have any skrewt shell?" he asked Hagrid
"Aye plenty." The half giant reached for the large jar of what looked like onion peel and handed it to the potions master who nodded gratefully.
"Come Draco, you will brew this." Draco's eyes shot up unbelievingly at his god father, there was no trace of an off timed joke in the old potions master's face.
"I can't." Malfoy protested, he was dead on his feet and he wouldn't be the one to mess this up.
"I insist Draco." Snape reached for Draco and pulled him up by the collar leading him away from the warm hut and a perplexed Hagrid who thought it best to inform the headmistress.
Hermione shuddered "It wasn't like we 'made love'" the familiar voice she refused to look at whispered. She knew it was just her mind but my god did her mind have to be this cruel. "You kissed Malfoy too!" the rational part of her brain masquerading as a ghost protested.
"He kissed me; I was taken off guard… with you I was a… well I participated willingly." She finally looked up at him; she really didn't know how people couldn't tell him apart from his twin. He was so different; his facial expressions were all his and he was the one person capable of making her laugh even when she felt like sobbing.
"I think my death has made you put too much weight on what will really be a minor incident in the long run." He rationalised with a wide grin.
"It was a big deal for me ok? If it wasn't a big deal for you that's fine but it was for me." She squinted back the tears that threatened to roll from her cheeks.
"It was a big deal for me." There was no trace of mirth in his usually jovial face.
"Oh what do you know, you're me… Fred's dead." She swiped angrily at the tears.
"Or I'm not."
"What you're not me or you're not dead?" the rational part of her brain no longer seemed rational, in fact it seemed downright silly.
"I'm not you."
TBC
A/N man oh man oh man… see I'd just quit writing it if I could but the story lingers in my brain and then I get carried away, and then I rewrite and then I work for 2 months solid without a break and then it comes back to me and I get little reviews telling me to update and then there's the 8000 word weight… the last chapter was more than 8000 words I tell myself and I need to keep going and I feel bad but here you go. THIS IS SO ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE that even birth years have been jumbled a little and also pushed to later years (so they can have ipads, I genuinely can't imagine a life where you can't Google something) I think I went a bit too far with some of my notions but I enjoyed it so I hope you do to.
