Chapter 14 – Boys Will Be Boys
There was a flurry of flashing spells, and shouting, more like screaming coming from the middle of her clearing. Quickly identifying the mop of black and and shock of red, she paused to recognize the sheen of pale hair backed into a corner. She shook her head before running over.
"Harry! Ron! Cut it out! Do you want to be stuck in detention any more than you already are?"
She was steadfastly ignored, as the spells escalated in power and severity. Growing impatient, she saw how Ron and Harry had the advantage, but Malfoy was more patient in his casting, and had backed himself into a corner to ensure safety. He seemed to have less speed, but far more accuracy and power than either Harry or Ron.
Malfoy's eyes briefly flicked over to her for a moment, and sent a nasty stinging hex her way. She easily sidestepped, and was about to petrify everyone involved when her wand went flying out of her hand behind her. She spun into a defensive stance, prepared to face one of Malfoy's goons.
An irritated but calm redhead stood a few paces behind her, and she instantly dropped her guard. Charlie had a firm grip on all of the wands as he looked to the group. "Just what the bloody hell is going on here?"
Hermione rose an eyebrow to the language, but turned her now narrowed eyes to Harry and Ron. Panting, the bespeckled teen came closer, along with his second and his opponent.
"He started it, and we decided to finish it." Harry regained his breath, "Charlie he's a death eater. Even though you may think he's harmless, he's slime like Voldemort through and through."
Ron nodded in affirmation, "He needs to be taken out back and euthanized, along with all of his murdering family. If it weren't for him, and his lot, Harry would still have parents."
Hermione was stunned. "Harry, you cannot actually think that Malfoy deserves to die! Although he can be a foul little cockroach he doesn't deserve that. In fact, you sound more like the Death Eaters than the boy I met on the train first year. What the hell is wrong with you?"
A slow, mocking clap from the corner garnered her attention. "Bravo, Mudblood. I applaud your efforts to come in a 'save a sorry soul.' Do I look like a fucking house elf? I do not need your pity, or whatever else motivates that frizzy bucktooth head of yours."
Harry reacted, glancing a right hook to Malfoy's face. The tussle ensued, with Ron joining in and their enemy giving as good as he got.
Hermione shook Charlie's arm impatiently, "Why aren't you doing anything? They are going to beat each other senseless!"
Charlie gave her a smile and patted her hand calmly. "It won't be much longer now." She turned anxiously back to her friends, deciding to run in and break it up herself if the older Weasley was just going to sit around and watch the fight.
Sure enough, the three winded down the fight, breaking apart gasping for air from their exertions. Harry was sporting a gash above his right eye, while Ron was holding his side. Malfoy, with hair wildly mussed and sporting a soon to be black eye, was able to glare menacingly from his position.
"Look, Malfoy, you're a prick. I know you are, the school knows you are, and the whole world knows it as well. I understand that you have to be the bad boy of Hogwarts, because it defines how you are, and wraps it up in a neat little tidy package. Just as I am Hermione the Mudblood of the Golden Trio, you must be Draco, the prick of the century.
I've been reading up on wizarding customs, and I honestly have no jealousy in that regard of your position. As the sole heir, you have extreme amounts of pressure not only to become an individual in wizarding society, gaining fortune and renown for your family, but also to hold rigorously to the ideals set forth by your family. You were probably taught the Malfoy charm at a young age, just like your grandfather taught his son. I don't imagine that allows you to connect with your feelings, as it comes second nature to dissect every word, facial expression, and tone of voice that you receive. That's probably why we never get along, because we are all heart and no thought, but you have no emotion and only suspicion to guide you."
The pale boy's eyes flickered briefly for a moment, before contorting his face into disgust. "Don't you ... Don't you EVER presume to know me you foul little dirty bint. You have no idea -" He shut his eyes tightly to contain his rage "NO idea what I'm going through. Do I look like a fucking house elf, you blathering idiot? I do not need to be pitied, or saved for that matter. If you EVER try to 'save' me again, I won't be responsible for my actions, Azkaban or no."
His school robes flew out behind him, as he walked off, and the angry pulsing of his aura made Hermione tilt her head in thought. "Hmmm...was a little too close to the mark with that I think."
Charlie looked at her critically, as Harry was held back by the taller boy from going after Malfoy again. Charlie laughed and rubbed the back of his head as the tension from the confrontation subsided.
"I don't know about you lot, but I'm definitely in the mood for a walk before dinner. Who's up for it?"
The group ambled along the lake, with Hermione pointing out this and that bird, or plant. She was trying to gather as much information about edible magical and non-magical plants as possible. In case of an emergency situation, she needed to be prepared. She was actually trying to make an easy compendium for both the boys and her own reference, as there was yet a person to combine all plants. That would be a good reference youngling. If you would like, I will get in touch with Ofelia, and we can have her look over your work.
That would be absolutely amazing, Veritas. Hopefully she would be able to add more to it. I'm not sure if I would ever want to publish that sort of thing, but it could definitely be a help. Maybe a survival guide?
An answering rumble made her smile as she looked on to the boys getting into a friendly argument about Quidditch. It seemed like no matter what was going on, there was always Quidditch.
She was lost in her own thoughts for a bit, and was surprised that Charlie was walking alongside her. He smiled gently, "Much too serious look on your face Miss Granger. I may have to take house points if I do not see a dire improvement."
She grinned in response, only shrugging slightly. "The weight of the world is upon our shoulders. At least the magical world, anyway."
He nodded and sighed, "I would like to talk to you about my role here, at any rate. I know you have the Clan to help you out, but Dumbledore said that it would benefit you to interact with as many dragons as possible. When I return here every month or so for the Welsh reserve, would you like to accompany me?"
She nodded eagerly. "I'm awfully interested in seeing the different species, and even the crossbred ones. I think I'm spoiled because I have some of the best."
Charlie turned to her with a quizzical look in his eyes while she continued. "Well, when I was initiated, as it were, I met with one dragon of each species that is helping tutor me with all they think I need to know."
He whistled in response. "So they willingly come every week and teach you? And Callan is there to protect you?"
Hermione stopped, and so did Charlie. "I understand, that as a dragon tamer you think that protection is needed at all times. Normally, that is the case. I don't know if I can help you to comprehend this, but essentially I AM a dragon in their eyes, at least as close as any wizard would ever come to be. I know there can still be fighting, and strife in the animal kingdom, but in general, I have no need to ever fear a dragon. The know me when they see me. Some of the older dragons can sense me, even if they are halfway around the world.
In addition, the dragons that have and will continue to teach me are wild. They are not angry because they are confined "for their protection." They do not understand why wizards need to own everything around them. I am their only voice, in a society where werewolves and vampires are looked down on as dirty evil creatures. I hopefully will play an integral role in this battle, as I can help fight for, and win battles in the ministry for all those less fortunate."
Charlie held up his hands in compliance. "Hermione, I didn't mean to offend you. And I do love the dragons, and understand that they are extremely intelligent beings. I respect the fact that you are so passionate, and that you will be a key player, outside of being the main support and voice of reason with my brother and Harry."
She nodded, and noticed that the two others were quite a ways away. She laughed, "I honestly think babysitting them sometimes is harder than what I'm doing now. It's a nice break, honestly. Maybe I can convince Veritas to meet you sometime. She thought your display of courage was remarkable the last time."
His tanned cheeks took on a dusky rose color. "Yeah, not my best performance. I think the fact that we were so close to the school freaked me out more than I originally thought. In a pit in Romania, I wouldn't have to worry about several hundred children getting crisped."
She smiled and tugged his hand, "Come on, let's catch up before they get into more trouble, yeah?"
She received an owl from Professor Snape at dinner saying she was needed for detention. She sighed as she read the missive in the spiky scrawl that had disparaged her opinions on her essays for the last five years. Hermione looked up to the Head table and not seeing her potions professor, she realized that he was already waiting for her. Fingering the missive, she murmured her goodbyes to her friends, and headed down to the dungeons.
You'll need your luck youngling.
She grimaced as she hurried her pace to his office.You think it will be that bad? I thought the detentions were just a cover. Figures. I'll spend the next four hours dissecting beetle carcasses.
She paused before the ornate formal looking door, and schooled her thoughts to calmness. She knew he looked for things to pick her apart on, and if she showed she was irritated, he was just needle her further. It was almost like dealing with Harry and Ron when they were in a mood, she realized. Is it males in general, or is it just a lack of maturity thing? Dragons still can't figure that out Animagus, do you really think you'll be able to? She snickered, but straightened quickly as she knocked.
The door opened on it's own, and she entered hesitantly. His office was uncomfortable and imposing as the man who sat behind the desk. The walls were a stark white, with dark fixtures and shelves. Books lined the walls, as well as random suspicious-looking potions ingredients in jars scattered throughout.
His desk was an elaborate ebony statement, with his grade books and sheafs of essays sprawled upon it. The standard Number 5 red ink was open, with a quill resting in the pot. He was reading the essay, not deigning her a look. He frowned reading the essay, grabbing the quill no doubt writing a scathing remark on some poor little first year's report.
The chairs directly to her left, were of a matching dark wood, high backed and stiff, offering no cushion or support. She supposed this was a benefit to keep wayward students willing to converse, if only to escape the oppressive environment. She waited patiently, as she was not permitted to sit yet. It was a game, she knew, and through dragons she was beginning to see it for what exactly it was. A power play.
After several more silent moments, he gestured to the first empty chair. "Miss Granger, I'm glad to see that you've finally decided to make time for your detentions."
"But sir, you said that they -"
"Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting, and if you had bothered to ask me if you still had detention, I would have informed you so. Although it is not a standard detention, if you will, it will still be taxing, and I will still demand subordination."
Hermione pursed her lips, trying not to get angry. Not trusting herself to speak she nodded her head.
The pair remained in silence until there was an impatient knock at the door. She was surprised to see a platinum shock of hair appear at the door, before walking in. He spotted her, and the troubled face he had before slipped into a steely mask. The grey-blue eyes had turned to an ice fortress, and Hermione could feel the nervous undulation of his magical aura.
"Sir, what is she doing here?"
"She, Mr. Malfoy, is going to be serving detention with you. She needs proper tutelage, and I cannot be bothered at the moment to properly help. You are being punished for your failure to subdue Potter and Weasley, as well as sinking to physical violence."
He lips thinned to a small line, but then nodded. "I understand sir. I do however, have other activities that I must attend to, as you well know."
Snape sighed and looked at him piercingly, "And we all know how well that is going. You know of what we spoke earlier. Just trust in the fact that I am ready and able to help you."
Malfoy stiffened, "I'd rather sir, that you leave this to me. I am not to be trifled with, and I am perfectly capable of completing anything before me." To this Snape almost smirked, but merely went back to grading his papers.
Hermione, at the time was watching the cryptic conversation like she was at Wimbledon. She noticed the fatigue in both of their faces, and caught on quickly that it had something to do with Voldemort. Or at least strongly suspected, at any rate.
"You will teach the know-it-all the basics of Occlumency. I would suggest a gentler technique than your aunt gave you, although you are the tutor, as it were." The potion's professor's snide comment washed over Hermione, making her more than a little apprehensive. Since Harry was so vehemently against the boy in front of her, she worried that her secrets would be leaked to the opposition, as divulging her information would be tantamount to a raise in ranks.
You forget you are safe, Animagus. Your fear allowed you to keep your secret, but at a high cost to both the men in this room. She sobered immediately. She did feel slightly bad, but she was not about to offer such an important secret up on a silver platter. War is war, and unfortunately, it comes with difficulties and disheartening situations.
She got up, squared her shoulders, and turned to the teen standing. "Right, well, from what I've heard this isn't a stroll in the park, so I'm going to go ahead and offer a truce. In this office, we are two teenagers with a common goal to perfect mind magics. I certainly want to be the best I can be at them, with all the information that can just be plucked out of my head. I will suspend my pride, and chip on my shoulder as Golden Girl of the famous trio, as I hope you will discard your Slytherin Ice Prince card. We're here to work, not bicker." At the end of the speech, she held out her hand.
She inwardly smiled, as both men in the room were taken aback at the bald faced admission / truce she put forth. She was extremely self-aware and she knew that not all house fights were started solely by the Slytherin house. It takes two to tango, as it were.
Malfoy studied her face, inspecting it for any ounce of sarcasm or deceit. Finding none, he took her hand and shook it firmly, although dropping the handshake quickly. She nodded, and proceeded to sit back onto her hard chair.
After a few stilted moments of conversing, Hermione found that Malfoy was actually a very good teacher. He explained that the easiest way to fend off attackers was to compartmentalize her thoughts and feelings.
"The fastest, and most safe way of this is to imagine your mind and your memories in an organization of some sort. Some people think of a building, or a fortress, some people think of something in nature. It's up to you, but you need to really feel what comfortable for you, and stick to that visualization.
Hermione nodded, weighing her options. "Is there any way it should be organized? I mean you said to compartment it, but I am confused as to how I should. How are you able to just remember things? For instance, if I have a memory of eating ice cream at age 7 at the zoo, do I put it in a memory slot? Or do I put it into six year old memories? And what about emotions? Are they just messed together?"
Draco seemed taken aback by the flurry of questions, and looked to Snape for help. "She is your problem, Mr. Malfoy. You decided to lower your standards to muggle street fighting. You will reap what you sow."
Hermione rolled her eyes, out of the line of sight of course. She shook her head then rephrased her questions. " I was just curious as to how in depth the structure needs to be. Basic organization of my thoughts and memories is good, but I was curious if meticulous and specific categories would actually hinder the ability to hide memories, because it would seem that there would be huge blocks of memories missing, at least in my case."
Malfoy peered down at her, struggling with himself for a moment. "I will show you, because I feel you are comfortable with meditation." He sighed. "I...I don't normally do this. I will place down my barriers to allow you to view my mind, so that you may use it for reference."
She nodded and bit her lip, knowing that it was leaving Malfoy vulnerable. She watched him carefully, and when he nodded to her, she softly spoke the spell.
It was intimate, and very disorientating. She leaned in during the casting of the spell, and her vision was dominated by the steel grey eyes. His pupils dilated, and she felt like she was sucked into his mind through the inky blackness.
She arrived in an ancient forest, with moss and fog spreading throughout. There were birds calling and animals running around just past her reach. She saw a flicker of deer, and maybe some centaurs farther in. Hinkypunks danced around her, calling out to have her follow the light. She was amazed at the detail of the scenery, and she was impressed.
There was a rumble of laughter beside her, and she turned quickly to see Draco, or at least his subconscious form. He was dressed in dark brown trousers and a jade green silk top, making it seem like he was merely an extension of the forest.
He smiled, surprising her yet again. "There's no need to be alarmed Granger. This is ... how I am with my guard down. I'm glad you like the realism. I've had a lot time to practice, as it were. In general, there are two ways to teach this art. You can generally lead the aspiring student into it gently, or at a pace where they can get acclimated to people probing their mind, or you can just attack them until they grow a callus, so they learn to fight through the pain and grow defenses."
She gasped, knowing that if Bellatrix taught him, it would most likely have been very painful. "I thought that there was a different way. When I was researching the topic last year, the books didn't match up to the technique that was being taught."
Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment, then watched as a small rabbit approached his foot. Hermione knelt down, and stroked the curious creature's fur only to be sucked into a memory.
Draco had to be very young, as the height of the adults in the background were rather disproportionately tall. He seemed to be in an opulent garden, chasing butterflies as his mother and her friends chatted during afternoon tea. Bored of his quest to catch the fluttering insects, he squatted next to a koi pond, and poked at the fish swimming in the water. In the reflection, you can see his face squinching up in concentration, and then suddenly all the fish popped into green and blue. The memory hazed, as Lucius strode into the scene.
Hermione smiled in response to the rabbit, and watched it scurry away. The trees rustled gently, and she looked out over the swamp.
"It's beautiful here. Is it modeled after something you know from experience?"
He took a moment to respond. "There is a place similar to this at the edge of the manor's territory. I used to think when I was younger it held more magic than any wizard could."
"Thank you for showing me that memory. It's ... good to see that your life wasn't all lessons."
He looked surprised, then nodded. "You've been studying, that's good. Granger, we'll never see eye to eye. At least on some fundamental things, at any rate. If you research the old ways, you'll at least see why Wizarding Society is so upheld on tradition."
She smiled again, "I like the idea of the animals holding memories. Do the trees have them as well? And what about your emotions? When the trees rustled, that was you displaying it, right?"
He looked off into the distance. "I can see you will do well with this. The creatures are memories, for the most part. I put lots of memories to scamper around. Bad and good mind you, so that when people look into my mind, they see that I have at least a rudimentary Occlumency training. It's the perfect camouflage, at least I think so. To appear average lowers the expectations, and keeps the enemy to grow overconfident."
She smirked at him. "It seems as if that's a recurring theme in all the preparations I've been doing. Deception is key in this fight."
He ran his hand through his hair and smiled. "It happens, especially when hanging about in the mind of the Slytherin Ice Prince. I use subtle cues for emotions. Say if I were to get angry and the marsh water would change color. It would a huge signal to the person using legilimency that I was getting upset that they were in my mind. Or that I was worried, causing them to search harder."
"If the person searching for truth can't tell if I was capable of hiding such things, they are less likely to search, especially if the huge indicators such as changing colors, are avoided. Come on, since I don't often get to do this."
He headed further into the forest, taking some sharp turns, and at one point disarming a nasty looking spell. "You'll want to set up obstacles. If there is someone looking for secrets, and they are on the right path to finding them in your mind, set up traps and hassles. If you can concentrate and orient your mind amidst an invasion, you find that you can easily push someone out of your mind."
She hmmed as she plodded along. They got to an overgrown clearing with a pulsating orb in the middle. Draco stood in front of her, slightly off to the side. "These, are my personal memories. Ones that I need to keep hidden for safety or sentimentality."
Hermione grinned at him, and made like she was going to run at them. Astoria Greengrass' face appeared on the orb and Draco's face reddened slightly. A delighted laugh ripped from her, and she patted the snarky teen on the shoulder. "I'm surprised, I thought Pansy and you were attached at the hip."
He grimaced. "I know, but we're just friends. Astoria has a lot more substance, and she's definitely more pleasing to the eye. We Malfoy's have good taste you know." He assumed a pompous stance for the last bit of the conversation.
She solemnly nodded, and replied. "I won't say anything. She's nice enough I guess. She's a bit of a snob, but all Slytherin's are anyway."
Malfoy smirked in response. "That's just because you're too poor to keep up with my standards."
She ignored him and made her way back to the shoreline, and looked to the teen for guidance. "So now that I've had the grand tour, and I thank you for that by the way, how do I leave?"
"To end the spell, just close your eyes and say " I love a Weasel. I love a Weasel. I love a Weasel." My mind will be so revolted it spit you out faster than giving a niffler fake gold." She swatted his arm and stuck her tongue out in response.
"I gave up on the prat. He's too busy sucking face with his dementor girlfriend. You've had to have seen it. It's like a train wreck."
"I try not to. I can't believe you have to eat within spraying distance. It's revolting, all the way across the hall."
She laughed, and her eyes twinkled. "Beam me back Scotty!"After the funny look he gave her, she just laughed all the harder.
The jolt back into her body was a sharp one. She instantly groaned and grabbed her neck, as it was positively aching from the strain. Snape was at the end of his grading, only looking up with the amount of noise she was making. "Welcome back, it took you long enough. I did not ask for you to socialize, because you are both on detention."
She nodded, knowing he was probably irritated from grading. She stood, and watched her tutor stand as well. He looked down at her, almost as if seeing her in a new light.
"That was very educational, ferret. I feel as if you were not such a giant lout this time. I insist you call me Hermione in private, at the very least."
He seemed shocked at first, but then shook her hand again. "You did an acceptable job, Mudblood. Maybe your taint won't stink up the halls so much. You may call me Ice Prince, or Lord Malfoy, if you wish."
She looked at him, "I'll call you ferret, Draco, or fairy ice prince. Your choice." Completely disregarding all of the rules of combat, she then turned her back to him and strolled out of the room.