This is the penultimate chapter.
It is dedicated to everyone who has ever read, or will read, this story.
It is for all those that have reviewed, subscribed or favourite myself and/or this story.
You made this story what it is, not me.
Thank you.
Chapter 13.
Laughter.
The aged Deatheater wrinkled his nose at the charred remains within the room. There were items littering the floor, leather bound books where just the cover had half survived, the handle of a broomstick, a metal birdcage, the handle from a burned and ruined vanishing cabinet that would no longer work…
What the hell had happened here in the war?
He knelt by a heap of shelves and ashes, that were scattered near the wall and cast a quick revealing charm.
An orange vision erupted in the air just in front of him, revealing a curse.
"Fiendfyre?"
He furrowed his brow.
Well this wouldn't be a good place to hide.
He straightened up, groaning as his back clicked, and stretched.
He turned back to the door, intending to leave and find somewhere else, since the Room of Requirement clearly wasn't suitable any longer.
He frowned at the sight.
The door was… It was…
Well, it was flickering.
In and out of existence… Like a bad muggle Telly-vish-on?
He raised his wand.
"REDUCTO." He yelled at the door.
The door flicked out of existence just before the spell hit. It created a crater in the wall, and when the door tried to flick back, it couldn't.
I need a way to leave this room...
I need a way to leave this room…
I need a way to-
He was thinking furiously… Nothing seemed to be happening…
"I am going to find and kill whoever set that FiendFyre curse off..." he growled.
There was a cackling from the corner.
"Ironically, he's already dead."
Nott spun round to search for the voice.
A portrait was propped in the corner. It contained an aged man, with a cropped dark beard and green robes. He had dark beady eyes with crow's feet at the corners and laughter lines decorating his cheeks. His nose hooked downwards slightly and his lips were thin and pink, matching his deathly pale skin.
He was also currently laughing his head off.
"Who are you?" Nott demanded, raising and eyebrow and tapping his foot impatiently.
The painting cackled again, wiping a tear from his eye.
"What does it matter? You're utterly ruined anyway..." it snorted.
"WHAT IS SO FUNNY?" the Deatheater roared, raising his wand.
The man in the painting continued laughing and doubled over.
"REDUCTO," Nott screamed again. The spell exploded over the portrait in colour and the frame jumped off, disintegrating and scattering everywhere, thickening the air around it.
Nott was breathing heavily through his nose with gritted teeth, silence ringing in his ears, staring at the dust.
Then there was the cackling again.
The painting lay bare on its paper, flat on the floor.
The man with in it continued laughing.
"The room does not work," he cackled, "and you're stuck in here with the magically protected portrait of a man deemed mad 100 years ago."
Nott's jaw dropped.
"Wha-"
"You want to kill the person who ruined the room when he died as a result of it..." the painting cut him off with, biting its lip so as not to laugh. "Master Crabbe…"
Nott snarled, gripping his wand tightly, so that his fingernails made little half-moon indentations into his palms.
"That's what's so funny..." the old man stated, dead pan.
Then he erupted into giggles again.
Nott pursed his lips, dropped his wand, sunk to his knees and covered his ears with his bare hands, screaming.
He blamed Draco.
-000-
"It's very expensive… due to its brewing difficulty, Mr Potter… but I could be good to you… The Golden Boy and all..?"
The alchemist gave Harry a very toothy grin. His gums were blackened and his teeth were yellow. Harry cringed away slightly.
"Umm… Yeah… No… that's fine…" Harry nodded, holding his bag of Galleons out with a fully extended arm, not wanting to get any closer.
The hunched man greedily accepted and exchanged the money, which he didn't take his eyes off once, for the small silvery bottle.
Harry gripped it and slipped it inside of his robes.
"Thanks." He offered, but the man was too preoccupied with his new Galleons and just waved Harry away.
The black haired boy shrugged slightly and pushed the door open and left the very small shop in Knockturn Alley.
He'd had to argue with McGonnagall for an hour to persuade her to allow him out for the day to get this. It was a Saturday. And he'd had to tell her it was for something else.
Obviously.
She'd never approve of slipping another student Veritaserum.
But he'd got the something else as well when he was in Muggle London.
He thumbed the small Tiffany's box in his other pocket, wondering if it would go down well or not…
-000-
"Drakey-"
"Don't call me that."
"-Are you still seeing that Mudblood?" Pansy pouted.
Salazar. Her voice made his skin crawl. He shuddered.
"No-"
She relaxed.
"-I'm seeing Hermione Granger." He finished.
"But you MUST be faking this! You hate her! She was the Mudblood! The bookworm! Why have you changed! This is not you!" She hissed.
They were sat in the Great Hall at Dinner, and for some reason, unbeknown to Draco, he was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson again.
He sighed exasperatedly, but didn't answer.
Because he didn't know how to.
He stared over at the Gryffindor table longingly.
"Drakey!"
"I swear" he snarled, "Call me that one more time, and I will take this knife," He held up his spoon, "And ram it up your-"
"Draco."
"WHAT?"
"That's a spoon." She nodded patronisingly.
He gritted his teeth and completed his meal in silence.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ginny were both eating in silence too in contemplation of the job they had given themselves.
Ginny glanced up.
Hermione was standing by the Ravenclaw table, talking to Luna.
Good.
Her eyes flicked to the door where she spotted her brother.
"Harry!" she whispered.
With his seeker reflexes, his hand shot out and poured the contents of his silver bottle into an empty goblet next to him, before hiding the bottle away again under his robes.
Ron trudged along.
Lavender was mysteriously ill in the hospital wing after eating some cookies she'd found by her bed, so Ron was alone.
"Hey, Ron!" Harry gestured him over.
Ron was surprised.
"What?"
"Saved you a seat!"
Ron looked around for Hermione but couldn't see her. He was suddenly smug and making the wrong assumptions.
Hermione noticed this, and frowned, panicky, glancing between Harry, Ginny and Ron. Then looked over for Draco, but he was looking determinedly at his food, ignoring Pansy, who was attempting to hug him.
Hermione was torn between angry jealousy at Pansy, and offence from Harry and Ginny.
But Ginny caught her eye.
Ginny was staring at Hermione reassuringly, and then mouthed "bear with us!" to her friend.
Hermione calmed slightly, and looked around.
"Sit here, Hermione" smiled Luna dreamily.
She nodded once and perched next to Luna on the Ravenclaw bench.
Ron was shoving food into his face at an alarming rate, and Harry and Ginny were watching him. Ginny leant her chin on her hands.
"You may want to take a drink somewhere in there, Ron," she muttered.
Ron looked like he hadn't heard her, but sure enough; he grabbed the nearest Goblet, and gulped all of the drink down, before slamming the goblet down and continued eating.
Harry and his girlfriend exchanged looks.
"So, uh... Ron?" Harry began.
"Wha'?" He replied, mouth full.
"What did you do to Hermione in that empty classroom?" he asked, cautiously, with a sideways glance at Ginny, who nodded once in support.
"Attacked 'er," he stated casually through his mouthfuls of food.
Half the Gryffindors went silent and looked down the table at the Red head.
Ron froze.
His head snapped up, suddenly realising what he'd said.
He tried to deny it, but the Veritaserum worked his lips, pushing different words out.
"Ruined her. With Lavender…"
He gritted his teeth and breathed heavily, fuming, his ears went red.
He turned to Harry.
"What. Have. You. Done. To. Me?" He snarled.
Harry shook his head sadly, disappointment washing over him.
"Mate. What have you done to yourself?"
The red haired boy felt the negativity, his insides tightening. The Gryffindors saw him flinch slightly.
Remorse…?
Or was that Harry hoping?
Ron swung off the bench and strode out.
"I'm done." he muttered as he left the hall.
-000-
Ronald Weasley never fully spoke about his attack on Hermione. Rumours went round numerous times about him and Lavender. They were publically scorned by other students, and were abandoned by any friends they seemed to have left.
Two Gryffindors, supposedly from the house of the brave, were cowards in the face of confrontation.
-000-
"Draco?"
"Yes, Granger?"
"Are you ever going to stop calling me "Granger"?"
Draco blinked. "What? I called you that after you got my attention… that can't have been your question!"
They were sitting under a tree by the lake. It was the last day of term and the sun was beating down, and, as a result of this, the entire student body was outside, having completed the final exams, packed their bags, and were waiting to be taken down to the Hogwarts Express.
"But you always call me it," She stated defiantly.
He rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"Habit, shall I stop... Hermione?"
He slid her name over his tongue and contemplated it.
She tutted. "Oh don't act like it's a big thing, you've called me it before." She folded her arms and laughed.
He smirked his signature smirk.
"Yeah, but that was only ever to get your attention, or to make you do things for me."
She sighed and played with his hand. "Oh, shut up."
Then he laughed. A real laugh. With her, not at her. Containing no hint of scorn or venom. Very un-Draco-Malfoy-ish.
"I love you, Hermione Granger."
This is effectively the end. I will post one more chapter to tie it up, but it will mainly be a manipulation of one of JK Rowling's previous ideas.
One more to go.
Janey xx