Kamusta? (that's Filipino for How are you?) You guys are wonderful!! Thanks for reviewing!!! Word of advice: When life gets shitty, write Draco and Hermione. Trust me, I'm living proof of it. Changed Parvati's hair to black now! And um, please don't mind the length of the chapter. I tried to give answers. My deepest apologies to Alexa, for leaving you hanging like that in the previous chapter! Read the A/N afterwards!! Hope you like it… PINOY PRIDE!
Chapter Eleven~Prelude to A War~
PART ONEThey made their way back to the castle in silence, and the suspense was killing Hermione. She was jumpy the rest of the trip back, flinching whenever either one of them stepped on a fallen twig, half expecting Blaise Zabini to tear his face away like a mask and morph into Voldemort's long lost brother seeking for revenge. But Hermione knew she was being crazy, and Blaise never made a move. He kept his hand inside his pockets and his head bent, whatever emotion in his eyes hidden by his hair. Immediately the castle's warmth enveloped them the moment they were inside.
Hermione climbed up the stairs leading to the Head Room and Blaise was close behind. They finally reached the portrait of the Two Lovers and the door swung open to receive both of them, after she whispered the password, barely audible.
"Get you things. Malfoy told me to help you with your stuff," Blaise suddenly spoke roughly as he roamed around the receiving area. "I'll wait here."
She could only nod her head as she made her way to her room, took off her robes and hastily packed whatever piece of wardrobe she could get her hands on. Okay. First thing's first. Talk to Harry and Ron; tell them Zabini is definitely off. Send a note to Draco, tell him to come back. Gotta find Brisbane so I could—hang on. She didn't recall a conceited eagle owl flying anywhere around the other… She quickly ran out of her room.
"Hey Zabini! Have you see Bris…bane…" But Hermione's voice died out as she stepped back to the Common Room. It had become pitch black, and she was all alone.
The curtains were pulled down, covering any light coming from the window. Only a soft glow was emitted by the fireplace, and it wasn't helping at all. The fire was dancing and cast transient shadows all around the room.
"Brisbane?" Hermione called out, squinting her eyes in the dark. Silence. She licked her lips nervously and stepped forward. "Zabini?"
"I'm right here," he whispered behind her and Hermione screamed. But Blaise was too fast for her. He grabbed both her arms before she could get away and pushed her hard against the wall, pressing his body against hers.
"Ahh!" Hermione hollered in pain.
"Tsk, tsk. Not a very bright thing to do, Granger," he snarled, bringing his face to hers. "Malfoy did make me promise not to leave you out of my sight."
"Take you hands off me, you bastard," Hermione spat, glaring at those pale blue eyes glowing with evil. "He didn't make you promise anything." Damn it, my wand… Stall him. "From how I heard it Zabini, it looked more like Master Malfoy was giving you an order—"
"Silence!" Blaise yelled as he slammed himself once more against Hermione. She screamed as her back came in harsh contact with the sharp, ragged edges of the stone wall. Her woolen sweater was probably ripped into shreds by now.
"Don't throw insults at me because he didn't listen to you," he growled at Hermione who felt his hot breath on her face. "Did you think he'd take a Gryffindor's word for it that there was something wrong with his best friend? I heard you back there, Granger. He didn't."
Hermione shook her head, not wanting to believe a word that he said. But he was so right. If only Malfoy had listened to her… "Where's Brisbane?" she asked. Her eyes darted around the room, getting themselves used to the dark. "What have you done with him?"
"I beg your pardon? I haven't done anything to Brisbane," he looked innocently at her, blowing softly against her cheek. Hermione twisted her head away. "I believe you've met my pet owl, Grimoire." He gave a low whistle. "Grim! Come here!"
Suddenly a huge black owl flew from Malfoy's room, the same owl she had touched a few moments ago, and perched on top of the couch behind Zabini. It gazed at Hermione with a look on its face that seemed to say "Sucker…"
Blaise smirked as he saw her jaw drop open. "Yes, beautiful bird, isn't he?" He continued to stare at her, not bothering to look at Grim. "Rather intelligent too. I didn't have to say 'Intercept Narcissa Malfoy's bird and kill it', twice." He sniggered at Hermione and tucked a lose strand of her hair behind her ear. "I bought this from Diagon Alley for that special purpose. The real Brisbane is probably at the Malfoy Manor, munching on some 24-Galleon can of worms. Draco was too thick to notice it."
Hermione gasped as Zabini's finger touched her ear. It felt cold as ice. Who was this person in front of her? He was definitely different from the Draco's friend she used to know. Think Hermione, think. She tried to move but Blaise was too strong for her, and kept her trapped.
"Thick as Malfoy was though," he slowly traced his finger down to the side of her neck. "He was certainly crazy about you." He easily raised Hermione higher against the wall and his pale blue eyes came in perfect level with her supple breasts. "I can understand why."
"Get off me!" Hermione yelled, struggling to get free as his hands suddenly grabbed her breasts.
"Go ahead, Granger, scream for me," Blaise growled as he rubbed his arousal against her. Hermione had to hook her legs around his back to keep herself from falling.
"Oh yeah…" She heard Blaise moan as she tried to stop herself from doing the same thing. She needed to concentrate, but depriving her body of this kind of pleasure was making her dizzy… Those eyes… It reminded her so much of….
"Why are you doing this to him?" she managed to whisper as Zabini brought his hands inside her sweater and underneath her bra, pulling and tugging. She kept looking around the room, anything to stop her body from submitting to its will. She couldn't understand what Blaise said in response, only the words "…after the Great War…"
Hermione's eyes grew wide open when she noticed an outline of a bushy tail soundlessly moving among the shadows. She could only thank the heavens for that. Crookshanks, she breathed.
"Oh, now I know why Malfoy wanted to shag you senseless…" Blaise drawled as he released one of his hands from her breasts and pulled his zipper down.
But Hermione only needed those few seconds to grab her wand from her pockets and for Crookshanks to jump at Zabini and scratched its claws across his face. She fell on the floor as Blaise clutched his face, screaming. "STUPEFY!" Grimoire screeched loudly as Blaise got thrown across the room, knocking Hermione's study table over.
"GO!" She hurriedly got to her feet and grabbed Crookshanks, sprinting towards the exit of the Head Room, leaving Blaise Zabini unconscious. For the meantime.
* * *
The snow falling on her head, her brown eyes twinkling at him, her chestnut hair softly blowing against the wind. All these added up to make her look like an angel on earth. An angel he had foolishly left back at Hogwarts. For what? To take care of a mother who can already take care of herself? To make sure his father's inheritance was secured to him?
He had been scared, no, frightened to say her name. Scared because of what will happen in the future, frightened of the consequence of this confession. But he had said it. And it felt perfect. Oh he definitely knew he was in love with her. He was sure of that. His mind, heart and soul agreed with it completely. He needed her, during the day when he felt weak and helpless, and at night, when he felt so alone. He had fallen for her, but did he love her?
His whole reason for living faded in the mist as total darkness enveloped him, and the world started to spin. But Draco was used to travel via Portkeys, and he squeezed his eyes shut, locking the image of Hermione inside his mind. A second later, he opened his eyes, and a beautiful woman dressed in white, with her silver-blonde hair cascading down her back greeted him with open arms.
"Draco, darling, what took you so long?" With her pale complexion and the superior aura around her, she looked like she was the Winter Queen, and all the snow around them was her doing.
His mouth curved into a smirk, hiding his joy in seeing her again. He went up the steps leading to her as four house-elves came and began to drag the heavy luggage inside the Malfoy Mansion. He bent down and gently kissed her cheek.
"It's good to see you again, mother."
* * *
"Okay. What do we know about Blaise Zabini?"
Harry and Ron had just gotten up to their dormitory after a hearty lunch by themselves. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, figured she was probably with Malfoy, and they didn't want to imagine what they must be doing right now. Dean, Seamus and Neville were playing a game of Exploding Snaps downstairs while the others were enjoying their hot cups of cocoa at the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Generally? He's that pretty boy in Slytherin who's got a nasty reputation for being Malfoy's best friend," said Ron after biting his Chocolate Frog and flopping down Harry's bed.
"Right," Harry nodded quickly, pacing around the room. "But don't you think it's rather odd for someone to change so quickly for a short period of time?"
Ron swallowed his food. "It's called puberty, and I think it happens to everyone—OUCH!" His best friend threw the empty box of Chocolate Frogs at his face. "Okay, you wanna know the truth?" asked Ron, rubbing his nose. "Frankly, Zabini scares the shit out of me. If he did nothing when Malfoy was beaten up, what more to us? I mean, didn't you hear what he told you? 'Wouldn't want to start another war, do you'?" he said with perfect imitation. "Sounds to me like he was giving you a warning."
Harry stopped in his tracks and stared at his friend. Obviously, Ron was unaware of what his words meant. "You know, Zabini used to be everywhere… he used to have other friends… Now it's like, he pushed himself away…" He rubbed his glasses on his shirt and put them back on again. "Come to think of it, all these happened after the Great—"
But he was cut short as Hermione suddenly appeared in their dormitory, clutching Crookshanks in her arms, her face smeared with continuous tears flowing from her eyes.
"Hermione?" Ron asked curiously as she let go of Crookshanks and sprinted towards Harry.
He caught her in his arms as she began to sob uncontrollably on his sweater. "Hey… Hey… What's wrong?" he asked as he dragged her to his bed. Ron pulled the curtains so they could be alone in that little place but gasped when he saw the tiny spots of blood behind Hermione's white woolen sweater.
"Hermione, what happened to your back?" Ron asked, alarmed. But Hermione violently shook her head. She was so breathless for crying and running at the same time it felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest.
"Calm down, tell us what happened," Harry tried to say soothingly but couldn't help the rush of anger surging up his body.
"H-he almost… tried… attack…me…"
Ron looked like he was ready to hex the first person to come inside the dorm. "Who was it? Who did this to you?" Harry raised his voice, trying to suppress the rage inside. "Was it Malfoy?"
Hermione was trembling like crazy. "I-I knew something was wrong…"
"That does it!" Ron yelled, jumping out of the bed. "I am going to kill that fuckin' bastard!"
"No, Ron!" Hermione shouted, pulling him back down. "No…" Both he and Harry looked worriedly at their best friend. She took a deep, long breath and looked at her friends. "Draco's gone… Zabini's up to something."
* * *
The Daily Prophet referred to it as The Mansion, and not one wizard or witch did not know about this. It was a beautiful house indeed. It was four stories high, with windows as big as an average person. It had been standing since the first Malfoy came into the world and it had been remodeled and refurnished as the next generation came in line. Lucius Malfoy made sure that it would be the envy of every wizard in Britain, and so he trusted the décor of his home to the most talented designer, none other that Narcissa Malfoy herself. There was a balance of masculinity and femininity, and each room was adorned with the most expensive furniture from all over the world, some new, and some old.
Though The Mansion was extravagant, impressive and lavishly enhanced, it had other rooms too, other areas that didn't need much galleons to beautify. It was magnificent in its own, dark way, and no one could easily find the doors to these places. The Mansion had its secrets, as well as the people who dwell on it.
"Nonsense, I will be the one who will work today," Narcissa had said after Draco asked her what Mr. Steelbrow wanted him to do. "You just came here and I want you to rest first. Go to your room, have a walk around the house if you want. I'm just glad you're back." She had given him a quick his on his forehead, and turned around to go to her study, probably signing a contract for a new partnership with Faimstaff and Co., or signing the release of the new Dark Artifacts she had found earlier that day.
And so Draco wandered around the Mansion, looking if her mother had bought new things to add to the splendor of his home. Which shall be his in a few weeks' time, mind you, along with the fortune his father had left for him. It was all a matter of legality. And Draco couldn't wait to share all these with Hermione.
He gave a low chuckle. You are definitely into her, Draco, he thought to himself as he stopped in front of a thick mahogany door, carved with an elaborate design and a letter M hidden amidst it. He raised a long finger and traced the M, slowly curving down as a soft green light glowed from the inside. With a soft click, the door opened.
The Library. Hundreds upon hundreds of books Hermione would have loved to read. Will you stop it Draco, she's all you ever think about, a voice in his head told him. He ran a finger through his hair and glanced around him. It was the place to find information, incantations and other dark spells to use, but it was also the place where the self-portraits of his ancestors were kept, hanging on the walls above him.
"There's my great-great-grandson, a fine lad indeed."
"The makings of a true Malfoy right there."
Draco raised his head at them and gave a small bow before walking towards his favorite section, the Dark Arts. All his ancestors had blonde hair, with some men sporting long bushy beards while some women carried them with curls and ribbons. They returned the courtesy, looking very much like dignified people. All of them gave a small scowl as Draco had today, and it was like looking at the different possibilities of how he would turn out in a few years' time.
"Oh, the product of all our sweat and blood!"
"Can't get any more pureblooded than him!"
"You've done a fine job, Lucius."
"Yes, but I believe he is yet to make me proud."
Draco suddenly dropped the book he was holding to the floor. His eyes rolled towards the direction of the portrait of his father, the last in line amongst the Malfoys. He was wearing a dark black suit wearing the collars high, and he was holding his snake-tipped cane, where his wand lay hidden. Draco then bent over and reached for the book.
"Stand up boy! I didn't teach you to be clumsy!" Lucius' portrait said in a booming voice. "Malfoys never pick after themselves!"
Draco clenched his fists. Breathe, Draco, breathe. Don't let him get to you. He's just a painting. Just get out of here.
"I quite agree with you Lucius there, but come now, don't be too harsh on your son," A man Draco remembered as Uncle Mordred spoke.
"Bah," Lucius grumbled. "He still needs a lot of lessons to learn to be worthy of the name Malfoy."
"TO HELL WITH YOU FATHER!" Draco suddenly screamed at him, as the other portraits jumped in their seats. "Are you deaf? You're the only one in the whole family who thinks I'm a failure!"
"Ooh, drama," Layla Malfoy whispered to the other portrait, who was Draco's grandmother.
But Draco ignored her. "You were never proud with anything that I've done!" He didn't understand why he couldn't keep his composure. Maybe because his father had pushed his buttons again. Or maybe he just had too many irritating relatives around him. "When I got my Hogwarts letter we didn't even celebrate for it! I was sorted into Slytherin, and you could have at least pretended that you were happy about it in your letters!"
Lucius only raised an eyebrow. "Look around you, son. It didn't come as a surprise to me anymore," he drawled as Draco looked up to his ancestors, each wearing their Slytherin ring on their right hand. "You would have disgraced me if you got sorted into those pathetic Gryffindors." Some portraits began to snicker about this.
Draco continued to glare at his father. Gryffindors were pathetic, and stupid. Well, all except one. "We've got a different idea on what a disgrace is, father," he spat. "How could you have let Voldemort, a half-breed for Merlin's sake, push you around like a fuckin' puppet!"
"Do not speak of the Dark Lord that way, son!"
"You could have killed him and sat on the throne instead! Lead the Great War and maybe things would have been diff—"
"Ah! Cunning! Very Slytherin indeed!" Uncle Mordred piped up. "The darkness inside of him has awakened from a deep slumber."
Draco stopped in mid-sentence. No. He wasn't going to be like them. "As far as I know, father, you've disgrace the Malfoy name."
"Ah, yes," Lucius chuckled softly, his colored blue eyes meeting with his son's gray orbs. "Losing to that damned Potter every year in Quidditch, being second best to that filthy, damned mudblood Gryffindor—"
"Her name is Hermione Granger," Draco gritted his teeth. His heart was pounding inside his chest. "And I deserved to be only second to her in every way."
Lucius gaped at his son as Layla Malfoy clasped her hands on her mouth "He's in love! With a mudblood!" The other portraits gasped.
Draco gave a guttural laugh. "Grandma's right, Father. I'm in love with her," he smiled at Lucius and raised his eyebrows. "And what are you going to do about it, Father? Step out of your frame and flog me?"
Lucius nostrils were flaring. Nothing had prepared him for sixteen years of having a son and an heir for this. "You ungrateful little son of a—After all I've done for you!" he yelled at him.
"Yes, Father, after all you've done for me," Draco shook his head. "I still haven't experienced the joy of being a son." He took the book in his hand and made his way to the door.
"But you don't belong to each other!" Layla Malfoy cried out.
His father could only stare at him in disbelief. Draco grabbed the handle and stepped outside, but looked at his father one more time. "Oh, I almost forgot. Did you know I was made Head Boy this year, and that I won the House Cup for Slytherin? Then again you wouldn't, would you?" He smirked. "You're already dead." With that, he closed the door with a bang, and the Malfoy Portraits looked at each other.
Uncle Mordred clicked his tongue. "Teenagers."
* * *
The Golden Trio had been sitting on Harry's bed for a long time with the curtains hiding them from the outside world. Harry and Ron tried to comfort Hermione (who told them everything that had happened) while the three of them were making an effort to try and put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"So something must have definitely happened to him after the Great War," Hermione had said, unconsciously twirling the ends of her hair.
"Exactly. Could be traumatized, or something about his past," Harry said, nodding his head in agreement.
"Oh, I should have asked more questions!" Hermione grumbled, punching the soft pillow on the bed. She didn't know why, but she wanted to hex Draco so much. For not listening to her, for letting Blaise touch her, for everything that had gone wrong since he left her here…
"Listen," Harry gently put a hand on Hermione's shoulder and looked at her in the eye. "For what Zabini did to you, you don't have to blame yourself for anything."
"So what are we gonna do now?" asked Ron, leaning back on his hands in the bed.
"First we have to get to Malfoy," Hermione replied automatically. Go up to him, punch him right across the face. Then after he apologizes for everything, maybe a kiss would—
"But look at the weather outside!" Ron pointed at a spot on the curtain where the window was. "Neither Hedwig nor Pig will be able to make it back."
Hermione groaned in response. She was running out of options in her mind. This was all Draco's fault. No, his mother. If she didn't ask her one and only son to go back and… wait. Why should I blame someone for this? Didn't Dumbledore always say… Hang on.
"That's it!" Hermione exclaimed, and Harry and Ron jumped back in surprise.
"You have got to stop scaring us like that!" Ron said, grabbing his heart, but she ignored him.
"Dumbledore! First we go and talk to Dumbledore, see if we can get any information on the Zabinis, and hopefully get this over and done with by tomorrow morning," Hermione grew excited as she got that far-away look on her face, like she always did when she was coming on to something.
"Good thinking, Hermione," Harry smiled and patted her head. "Let's go down to the Great Hall for dinner first and talk to Dumbledore after that."
Hermione nodded. She had just remembered that she hadn't eaten anything since… well, since he left.
"Dinner! How could I have forgotten?" Ron exclaimed, jumping out of the bed and glancing at his watch. "Come on! It already started twenty minutes ago!"
* * *
And so they made their way to the Great Hall, with Hermione frowning in deep thought. Harry had put a protective arm around her and was looking sharply ahead while Ron was bringing up the rear, searching for any signs of Zabini, or Malfoy for that matter. He always loved that muggle saying "hitting two birds with one stone." But nothing had prepared them for what they would see once they entered the great old oak doors.
Not one teacher was sitting at the Faculty Table of the Great Hall. Even Mr. Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris was nowhere to be seen. The Slytherins were seated on the table, with the food pushed aside. The house cup was in their possession again and Damien and the others were boasting about it to their housemates. Zabini was not with them at all. The Hufflepuffs were busy talking loudly and animatedly to each other, drowning any kind of conversation with their heartwarming laughter. The Ravenclaws on the other hand were huddled close together, eating their turkey and mashed potatoes and finishing the rest of this year's homework. The Golden Trio went to the left side of the Hall towards the Gryffindor Table with confused looks on their faces.
"Oh Neville! How could you have lost your school robes?" Seamus Finnegan was yelling.
"I don't know!" Neville shouted back. "I hanged it on my cabinet yesterday but it was gone when I checked it this afternoon!" he finished with a squeak.
Seamus laughed and patted him at the back. "It's alright mate. I'll help you look for it later."
Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats when Lavender and Parvati suddenly sat across from them.
"Oh Hermione! Thank God you came down already!" Parvati flipped her black hair over her shoulders. "Me and Lav were beginning to think you weren't going to fulfill your Head Girl duties…"
The three of them looked at each other. Harry spoke first. "What are you talking about? Where are the teachers?" he nodded his head towards the empty faculty table.
"Oh we forgot! You guys weren't here when Dumbledore spoke to all of us," Parvati slapped her forehead. "Honestly, no one ever listens to him except you, Hermione." She and Lavender fell into fits of giggles. Ron looked like he was ready to barf.
"The whole faculty had to leave for an urgent meeting or something," Lavender tried to explain, her forehead frowning. "A special practicum for the European League of Wizarding Schools in Bulgaria… Or was it Romania?" She turned to look at her friend who only shrugged. "Won't be back till after Christmas, the lot."
"McGonagall was rather teary-eyed about it, kept blowing her nose—"
"Snape gave the Trophy back to the Slytherins for safekeeping—"
"The ugly git." Lav and Pav said in unison. They laughed a high-pitched laughter once more.
Hermione clenched her fist and gritted her teeth. Tell me this isn't true, she thought to herself. Just fuckin tell me. But Parvati nodded her head. "Professor Dumbledore said that the Head Boy and Head Girl will be in charge until they come back. So that means you and Malfoy, Hermione!"
The Head Girl's heart began to beat rapidly. Why where things getting worse by the minute?
"But Malfoy's not here," said Ron, who was beside her. "His mother needed him at their house."
"You mean Malfoy's gone?" squeaked Lavender, flinching at Harry's arm around Hermione's shoulders which he had not taken off.
"So are you telling me that it's just us?" Harry concluded, staring that the two girls. "The whole seventh years in Hogwarts for the Holidays?"
"Relax, Harry," Parvati said, waving her hand at him. "It's not like somebody's going to die or anything." Then she took a bite from her apple.
But the Golden Trio could only look at each other once more. Suddenly Hermione lost her appetite. Who could blame her? Hogwarts was the most dangerous place right now, she didn't know why yet, but for her, with Draco and Dumbledore gone, all hope had been lost.
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A/N: Thanks to my incredible reviewers/FRIENDS! You guys mean everything to me, you know that right? To Layla Malfoy, told you I loved your name. Hope you didn't mind. Nope, Dreaming One, this isn't a sequel, but I am planning to write one: ) Draco_Fan: I love Lifehouse, and the song Everything first perfectly with Chap10! To Icy Spicy Micey, I won't be updating Temple of the Dragon until I finish this story first… please don't get mad!
iHEARTlucasscott said I was spoiling you with the quick updates and the long chapters… Hehehe.. is she right? Hope you read it really carefully, coz it might be a while before I update… still going through a lot, but I have you guys….
PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS!! UNTIL THE NEXT! .:Ceres Vesta:.