A/N: aaaaah…I'm quite ashamed of myself. But I have a really good excuse this time. Honest! I have final exams, and I had to study this time. And mawii didn't help me WRITE…she gave me an idea though. Thanx 4 the constructive criticism last time, it really helped. I guess I wont bore u all with a long A/N (no! like this isn't long enough? umm ignore that annoying voice so on wid da story:
Chapter 10:
Draco dropped the trowel in his hand and crept closer. Could it be? Was this what he was trying to find all week? It had all the distinctive features…but it could be a fake. Only a test could prove it. He put his hand in the pocket of his robe and drew out a glass vial containing a pink potion.
This potion better be perfect or I'll kill Longbottom! What did he say again? "Two drops on the white branch. If it turns red or emits an odorless gas then it is a Healing Iniuria. If not, then it's a common Longfellow. Remember, Iniuria are extremely rare,, and they may not even be of use." He's right. Maybe my theory's wrong. If it is, the Iniuria won't help at all. No, no, I'm pretty sure I'm right. There's no other explanation. It will work. I just have to find it. This just has to be the right one!
He searched for a white branch underneath the colorful flowers. When he found it he pulled it towards him, uncorking the vial. With shaking hands he carefully shook out two drops of the pink potion onto the branch and waited with bated breath for the branch to change color. And waited. Draco stayed in a crouched position in front of the bed of plant in the Manor's garden for a long time, gazing at the branch, willing it to just change, wanting it to be the plant that will make everything right…
Nothing. A strong feeling of disappointment washed over him and he fell down on the freshly turned up dirt. That's it. Every inch of the garden. He had checked everywhere. Even in his mom's old potted plants. He had been so sure they had a specimen in the Malfoy Manor's garden. Draco cradled his aching head in his muddied hands. He had blown the only chance they had. No! No-no… no… no… NO! Blow Neville and that idiotic book! He spotted the vial. He picked up the stupid vial and threw it at the stubbornly gleaming white branch and watched it as it broke. "IDIOTIC stupid little preposterous farce! RED! CAN'T YOU JUST TURN RED? IS IT THAT HARD? GO ON! JUST CHANGE COLOR!" He yelled at the poor plant. He pleaded with it. "I'll give you a thousand galleons. A thousand galleons! I'll put you under the care of the best herbologist ever known to humanity. I'll…" He tried threatening it. "If you don't turn red I'll dig up every plant in this garden! EVERY PLANT! I'll burn them all! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I'LL BURN EVERY STUPID PLANT, STARTING WITH YOU!" He stopped for a breath. And finally noticed the broken shards of glass. "The whole thing…gone! What have I done?" He tried to save some of the potion to no use. It had all been soaked in the dirt. He groaned and ran a hand through his tousled platinum hair. The potion will take another three weeks to prepare... He yelled some more at the plant just for the sake of it. Then he stopped. Something was happening…
A frightened house elf stood on the garden's paved path, carrying a tray laden with food. Her cool, calculating master had never displayed such maddening emotion! "Master Draco is wanting anything sir?" She asked tentatively.
"Just leave! And don't come back until I tell you to. No one is to set a foot in the garden, understood?" Draco growled, staring fixedly at the branch. The elf bobbed her nervously and teetered away, the heavy tray balanced carefully on her head.
She had left Draco behind a little while when a tall, dark man with handsome Italian features came strolling down the path. She immediately sunk into a deep bow, the tray wobbled precariously. "Master Blaise."
"Tillie." He nodded his head, allowing her to straighten up. "Where is your master?"
Her eyes grew wide. "No sir, Tillie can not say. Master gave very specific orders, Master is not wanting anyone in the garden sir." She shook her head vigorously. Blaise chuckled. "He's in a right state isn't he?" He looked back at the path Tillie had just come from and could hear shouts in the distance. "No matter. I'll just follow the noise."
"Master is very angry; Tillie is not wanting Mister Blaise to go bother Master Draco." Tillie loyally stuck to her master's instructions.
Sometimes loyal elves were quite annoying, thought Blaise.
"Tillie, didn't your master also tell you you're supposed to take orders from me as if I was your owner?"
"Yes master."
"Then I order you to take that tray to Miss Ginny this moment."
The house elf hesitated, torn between her original order and this one.
"What I do or what I don't is of no concern of yours. Now go." Blaise continued smoothly, and Tillie scurried off to the Manor.
Blaise walked down the path, observing the lush scenery, noticing that every foot or so a plant had been pulled up from its roots, in what seemed like frustration. Blaise raised his eyebrows, amused. So if Draco was faced with a problem he goes to gardening? How interesting. No wonder he wouldn't let a landscaper touch the grounds. Blaise made a mental note to bring it up with Draco when more important matters have been settled. Now that should e entertaining. Following the shouts, he made his way through the overgrown grounds.
Draco seems to be worse than what Weasley told me. More like a severe case of frustration than hurt.
But as Blaise got closer he noticed that the noise sounded more like jubilation than frustration. And the sounds were coming closer.
"Yes. Yessssssssssss! Hah! I did it! MERLIN HELP ME I FOUND IT!"
A figure was running and leaping over the flowerbeds at top speed, and whooping up a noise enough to wake up the whole Manor! A figure heading straight towards Blaise…
"Blaise, mate! What brings you here on this fine, fine day?" A laughing Draco nearly crushed Blaise with a bear hug, a bright red plant levitating in a flower pot above his head. "The roots had to soak it! That's it. Not the branch, the roots! Stupid Neville, I should hang him by his round ears! HAHA! The roots!" He continued down the path, smiling so wide Blaise thought his face would crack any minute and shooting random sparks from his wand.
Scratch frustrated and make that plain bonkers! He's gone mad! Blaise stared in bewilderment, his second display of emotion for that day. He hurried after Draco, careful not to receive an assailment of fireworks in his face. "Draco! Draco Malfoy! DRACO ALEXANDER MALFOY!" He bellowed. Draco turned around, not paying any attention.
"Someone called my name?" He asked vaguely, not slowing down.
"You'll burn down the garden you idiot." Blaise drawled, catching up with Draco and taking his wand from his hand. Draco stopped as soon as the words had sunk in. "Burn the garden down? No, no that wouldn't work. The garden could be full of them. If only, that git Neville had told me that the roots have to soak up the potion, I would have found it a long time ago…" And he picked up his fast pace again, though sparks-less this time.
Blaise sighed and tried to get his attention again. Solitude had not worked for Draco.
"You found what?" Blaise asked his platinum blonde friend.
"A healing Iniuria! After 3 weeks, I found it! I knew Mother had ordered it to be planted." Draco talked more to himself then to Blaise. Blaise seemed taken aback. Draco was talking about Narcissa? He left this new piece of information aside and concentrated on what Draco was babbling about.
"Why would you need a Healing Iniuria? They're extremely rare and practically useless." Blaise tried to remember where he had heard about Healing Iniuria.
"I know they're extremely rare. Why do you think I'm so happy that I found one?" Draco snapped back, smile gone, lost in deep thought.
"But they're useless." Blaise persisted.
"You don't think they're called Healing Iniuria for no reason do you?" Draco answered. "Or maybe you made an intelligent guess and decided that a Healer discovered it?"
"Yes, I had always assumed that, I suppose. But if, as you say, they are called Healing Iniuria because they have the power to cure, what do they heal?" Blaise asked, his head full of possibilities.
"With the right potion, it activates an ancient magic that seals wounds caused by Dark Magic or that was a result of revenge. Iniuria literally means injustice in Latin. You've gone slow in the brain Blaise, you better watch out." Draco answered. The Manor was less then a kilometer away by now, and Draco picked up his pace so that they were almost running.
"Revenge? You don't believe…" Blaise trailed off. Draco had run off to the Manor, leaving Blaise behind. But as sudden as he had gone, he suddenly sprinted back.
He took a good look at Blaise, as if he had just noticed he was there.
"Blaise? Blaise Zabini? What the hell are you doing here? When did you come? Why did you come?" Draco bombarded him with questions. It had finally sunk in that his friend was here in his flesh and bone. Blaise shook his head in disbelief.
"This is how you greet your best friend?"
"You can't be here Blaise. It's not time yet."
"It was time a week ago Draco. You didn't show up."
"What? No it's still not for another month."
"Trust me when I tell you it was last week. I got worried, so I thought it was fine to pass by and check everything was okay with you. I guess not, from your reaction." Blaise waited for Draco's reaction. The latter sighed, and all the color that had been in his face from the garden wind drained away, and a haunted look replace that of triumph in his eyes.
This was the Draco Blaise was expecting.
"You don't know, you don't read the papers, do you?" It was a rhetorical question. Draco looked around him. "It's a right mess. Something….came up and I guess the meeting slipped from my mind. I'm sorry. But nothing's really wrong, so you don't have to stay." Draco rubbed a cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt on the pale skin.
Blaise had a determined gaze on his face.
"You aren't leaving." Draco said it more like a statement then a question. The look on his dark skinned companion was enough of an answer. "Fine. Then go straight up to my office. Wait for me there. I have something to do then I'll join you. But whatever you do, do NOT peek into the rooms. And I prefer if you walk around the house quietly, and—"
Blaise thought it would be easier on Draco if he just told him. "I know about Granger Draco."
"How—"
"I met the Weasley girl while I was looking for you."
"Oh. Well, either way, wait in the office. I have some questions to ask you."
"As do I."
"I guessed that." And with that Draco turned on his heel and hurried into the Manor. Blaise, for once, decided to honor Draco's requests. He went to the office and settled down in one of the antique chintz chairs next to the fire. With nothing else to do, he picked up the book he had found earlier, Magickal Poisons and Their Properties. He opened at a page previously marked. Funesto Fetum. The deadliest of all old magic poisons and the most difficult to accomplish and to heal. Various Entities have to be available, foremost: Innocent Soul…
And Blaise started reading…
Meanwhile…
"I found it! I found the Iniuria. But tell Neville that the potion has to be added to the roots not to the branch, the idiot. It would have saved my time if I knew about that." Draco was talking into what seemed like a mirror. But instead of Draco's reflection, an image of a green eyed, raven haired man looked back.
"Neville's here Draco, and he said he told you that he might be wrong." Harry answered.
"He was wrong. Anyway, tell him I need more of that pink stuff to check out all the plants in the garden. I also need the instructions for the potion made with the Iniuria." Draco briskly answered.
"He just brewed it and we're sending over four vials. As for the potion, we're not sure of the ingredients. Didn't you say your book had the remedy?" Harry looked over his shoulder, and said something to someone else.
"Yes, but it said to take the flower when it blooms in bath water for at least two or three weeks, washing the wounds with the bark from the stalk and branches."
"Do that then. Did it mention any side effects?"
"No."
"It's better than the potion then. I say go ahead with it, anything that will make her feel better."
"By the way, how are things at the office?"
Harry sighed. "The minister's been pestering us with questions. Kingsley is filling in for you currently. It odd looking for Kingsley and finding a pale Draco instead. I can never get used to it, the contrast is that big." Harry shuddered.
"The minister still thinks his golden boy's innocent?" Draco asked in disbelief, ignoring the remark about the difference between him and Kingsley.
"Yes. And what's more, he's accusing the whole department of conspiracy. The whole place is in shambles."
"The git! He can't be that stupid!" Draco exclaimed.
"How's Hermione?" Harry asked, anxiety in his eyes.
"Awake." Harry didn't press the matter on Draco.
"Ginny?"
"Still hanging together. She misses you though."
Harry suddenly turned around. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he turned back to the two way mirror.
"Have to go. Intruder near by. Minister's been sending spies everywhere, it's driving me crazy. Talk to Ginny later." And with that Harry was gone.
Draco sat in his seat for a while. A small part of him was relieved that he wasn't in the chaos of work right now. The larger part hated the fact that he couldn't go and fight with them. Oh, how he wanted to strangle the scrawny neck of that pathetic excuse of a Minister! The Ministry of Magic never learned, did it? Because, so far, the best the Ministry had ever seen was when Arthur Weasley took command of the Ministry when it was chaos during the war. Then he…died and when the war ended the look-alikes of Fudge and Scrimgour came and puffed up their feathers and thought they were the top of the world. But this git? He was the worst of them all.
Draco put away the mirror and starting walking to his new living quarters. He was in desperate need of a bath. On his way he stopped by her room. He came in time to hear Ginny trying to coax Hermione into eating something. He could barely hear Hermione's voice.
"You need to eat this."
"What's the point?"
"Oh, Hermione please…"
"It's this feeling I have. Something's missing….and there's no point in living… my chance is over." Draco had to strain to hear the last part and he missed some parts.
He heard the clanging of a spoon being put down.
"You just to have faith Hermione…"
At this point Draco backed off. He didn't feel right, eavesdropping on them like this. He had more pressing matters to attend to anyway. He continued on his way, determined not to turn back. When he had freshened up and taken a long, invigorating bath, he felt ready to answer Blaise's questions.
He passed hallways and climbed stairs lost in his thoughts, until he reached the big double oak doors of his office. It opened immediately for him, and he found Blaise immersed in a book Draco had pored over many a sleepless night, not even noticing when Draco crossed the living room and went to sit behind his desk.
After a few minutes had passed and Blaise still hadn't looked up, Draco cleared his throat. Twice. Three times.
"One would think that the great Blaise Zabini is, in fact, a bookworm." Draco commented coolly.
"I wouldn't say that. From the look of this book, you've been reading it forever," Blaise answered, still not looking up from the book. "This does explain a lot of things though."
"I know. It's why I read it."
"No I meant your actions. You think that this Roger character stabbed Hermione with Funesto Fetum in an act of revenge?"
Draco winced at the blunt use of Blaise's sentence. He pondered it over; hearing it out loud made it seem different somehow.
"Yes. Yes, I do. It's the most probable theory." He made up his mind.
"But revenge for what?" Blaise pressed on.
"How am I supposed to answer the workings of a sick bastard?" Draco snapped. These questions were putting him on the edge, and Blaise knew it.
"What's your guess though? You must have one." Blaise went on nonetheless.
"I think… I think it's revenge for…her carrying his baby. He had said the words: "Mudblood baby." while stabbing her, so it must mean something."
"But according to what you told me previously that he was a Muggleborn as well?"
"I know that! I still haven't figured that out. But the only explanation I can think of is that he is a pureblood in a false identity."
"Not possible. We know all the pureblood families remember? No one matches his qualifications. All of the people in his age are either dead or were with the Light."
"Since you're so smart, why are you asking me?" Draco replied angrily.
"I need to assess the facts."
"Since when have you been the investigator?"
"Not me, my agents. If you want any information on anything in the world, they're the ones for who can bring it."
"Good for them."
"Draco, stop acting like a spoiled brat. Only your pride is wounded and you better get over that fast if you wanted to help Hermione." Blaise lectured. Draco stopped acting surly when he noticed that, for the first time, Blaise had called her with her first name, instead of Granger!
Blaise hadn't noticed and continued with his interrogation.
"Don't you work as an Auror?"
"Yes but Kingsley Shacklebot-you know the tall, dark Auror, friend of Harry's? - is filling in for me. He's taking Polyjuice Potion."
"So Roger won't suspect anything's out of place, or that Hermione's living with you, while simultaneously you can't leave the Manor, because you need someone to protect her. Which means Roger works at the Ministry." Blaise came to the right conclusion.
"You get on quickly." Draco drawled, resting his head on the palm of his hands.
"What will you do with the Healing Iniuria?"
"It's to be used in bathwater and the bark as a sealant for the running wounds,"
"Do you have anyone to take care of her, besides Weaslette?"
"The house elves."
"No, no they will not do. Weasley has to leave in a while doesn't she?"
"Yes, she's been missing long enough, so she will just show up for a few days, then come back."
"Hmmm…" Blaise pondered his options. "I think the best course of action is to bring a nurse to help. House elves won't do. I know the perfect person for this…"
"You think? Who asked your opinion? I can take perfect care of her. Between me and the house elves she'll be fine. Besides, we can't risk anyone coming."
"She'll be dead in a week and you know it. You won't look at her when she's awake…and you want to take full care of her? No, Abigail is perfect. She's completely reliable, and she's been working at St.Marialleo for 20 years now. She's the one who took care of me."
Draco knew he was right, but he couldn't bring himself to agree.
"Think of Granger's needs not yours." Blaise warned.
That did it.
"I'll have to tell Harry first, and I need to check on her."
"Done."
"Fine."
Blaise looked over at the priceless gemstone wizard chess set Draco owned.
"I always beat you." He raised his eyebrows, daring Draco to challenge him. Blaise fully well knew that he would lose, but it was an excellent diversion for Draco.
Draco, oblivious of Blaise's thoughts, went livid.
"You always beat me? In what lifetime, mate?"
"Prove it then. I'm quite sure I'll win. I even bet you ten galleons on it."
"Your loss." Draco shook his head, summoning the chess set.
Let the chess games begin…
A/N: So what do you think?! I hoped u liked this chapter. I did. I did my job, now it's time you did yours. You all know where the review button is. And for all you shy people out there, who give me hit but don't say a word… REVIEW. It'll only take a few seconds from time. Be brave and bold and SPEAK OUT! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW.
Love all ya guys out there who reviewed for all the past chapters, I owe you a lot. I'll write them next chapie but on this one no time cuz I have to go study biology. So a big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed or paid the slightest attention to this story of mine. Cheers!
p.s. Just for info: meaning of Funesto: to defile or pollute with death.
Fetum: death, ruin annihilation.
All Latin of course. Gruesome poison isn't it?
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