We met every night that week and the weeks to come. Sometimes we left the cauldron to boil while we were away, because the potion called for it. Then I'd sneak in at the exact right time to stop it. Other times, we'd leave it under a stasis charm until we returned, doing our best to follow the directions exactly.
It took us near a month. In all that time, we became friendly. We made small talk and got to know each other better. We bonded over our mutual distrust of the Carrow twins; he because they had gotten his lackeys expelled and me because I feared for the Headmaster. I did my best to suppress my sexual urges towards him; it seemed to work and that went a long way towards decreasing the tension between us. I even got the nerve to ask him about what he'd been up to in Diagon Alley during the summer.
"I…I purchased the cabinet, actually. But it doesn't matter, because it's broken and I didn't bother fixing it. I really don't care about that anymore. For a long time now, I've had a different plan," he admitted.
"Which is?" I asked, still unclear what he'd want with a cabinet, broken or not. Out of all of the dangerous things in that store, what would he possibly want with a cabinet? Maybe he was much worse at this than I'd given him credit for.
"Finish this potion, do the ritual, and go into hiding with my mother. The whole point of the cabinet was to try to get my father out of Azkaban, but I've given that up as a bad job. He got us into this mess; he can get himself out of prison. Everyone else and their evil aunt seems to be able to escape whenever they want."
I giggled at the evil aunt bit. He laughed too and my laughter turned into all out guffaws. He was funny and it was good to know that he hated Bellatrix too. He stifled his laughter with a grunt of pain, grabbing his chest; he was getting better, walking longer and taking the stairs without rest, but occasionally his chest still hurt. I cut my laughter short as I took in his pain. It wasn't fair that he was still hurt. By all rights, Pomfrey should've been able to heal his ribs in a heartbeat. He shouldn't be suffering months afterwards.
When our laughter finally stopped, I asked one more probing question, "So you're not…?"
"Not what?" he prodded.
"A…a Death Eater?" I finished.
"Oh. That."
Then he pulled up his left sleeve, revealing first a wrist with a horrible looking scar slashed across, little lines crossing back and forth perpendicular to the scar, where the stitches had been. There were the most stitch marks directly over the blue vein that ran down the center. Then he pulled his sleeve further up and revealed…a black blob, about the size of a snitch.
"He tried to mark me and told me I had to take my father's place. That was the first time I really had trouble clotting. I know I told you it was when you learned the bleeding curse, but I'd already almost bled to death before you learned the bleeding curse. I simplified, because I wanted you to believe me. My clotting problem really did get even worse when you learned the curse and I know, because it was the night I woke up with a bloody nose for no reason."
"What, you were sleeping and your nose just starting bleeding?" I asked.
"Bleeding so bad I took two Blood Replenishing potions and had to get all new bedding. I was taken to the Muggles then two. They put their burning wand up my nose and burned the bleeding away." Then he changed back to our original topic of conversation, "But back to the Dark Lord. He started marking and I started bleeding. The more he marked, the more I bled. I passed out from blood loss. When I woke up, he'd decided I wasn't worthy and I had this blob. That's why I wanted the cabinet to rescue my father, to prove I was worthy," he explained.
"How would a cabinet get your father out of Azkaban?" I asked, glad he'd gotten out of being marked.
He shrugged. "Well…it's a nice cabinet. It would be really nice if it wasn't broken. I thought I could fix it and then barter my father's freedom with it."
"How could you barter release from Azkaban with a cabinet?" I asked, trying not to laugh at the absurdity.
"You don't know the head guard at Azkaban like I do. He likes antique furniture. It's part of his set…" Draco droned, as if I was the stupid one.
I giggled. "Uh huh."
"I didn't say it was a good plan, did I? That's part of why I gave it up," he replied with a smirk. Then he changed topics. "Listen, this potion is going to be ready soon. I think we should do the ritual tomorrow, because it has to be done first."
"Yeah, all right. What's the ritual?" I asked.
"Like I said, it just fools the potion into thinking we're in a relationship," he said, pulling out a small and very old looking book from his school bag.
There was gold script on the cover and when I bent to look closer, I realized it was in Latin. I couldn't read Latin. I would have liked to read it, but I didn't want to make a fuss either and admit I couldn't read Latin. He obviously could and it was a relatively common second language among the Purebloods.
"That and the sperm," I said as he handed me the book. I opened it up and was surprised to see an even older languid inside: Ancient Runes. The spells were in Ancient Runes, the explanation and additional instructions in Latin. But these didn't even look like the Runes Hermione studied.
"Exactly!"
"Are these the runes you study in Ancient Runes?" I asked.
"No, we study Celtic Runes in class; these are French. This book has been in my family, since before we crossed the channel from France. My great grandfather said it's at least two thousand years old, but it's a translation of a book that was even older. The original book was the first Malfoy family spell book and written in French Runes. It was translated into Latin when the Runes fell into disuse. I wish I had the original though…" he mused.
"Why do we need such old spells? Wouldn't it be easier to use a modern spell book? Then we wouldn't have to worry that your translation is correct."
Draco looked offended. "I've been studying this book since I was four! My translation is perfect!
"Sorry. Is it…erm, sacred…?" I asked, remembering something I'd heard about spell books with the old families: they were like bibles with Muggles. The ancients wrote down every spell they knew in their spell books and passed them on from parent to child. Old magic could be very powerful; the protection of my mother's blood resulting from her sacrifice was proof of that.
"Yes! And it's better than modern spells. They may be slightly less accurate than modern spells, but they are more powerful. They can do things modern spells cannot. Besides, these are all non-verbal. They're about the feeling, not the words. We don't have the words to make this potion work, but we have the feelings," he explained.
I liked the way that sounded. I wasn't sure exactly what he was saying, but I thought that maybe he was implying that he loved me and knew I loved him. I felt dizzy with excitement at the prospect. In that moment, I would've agreed to do any spell in that book with him, without caring what it was.
"Anyway, I have everything we need, except for a ring or something with the Potter crest on it. Did you ever get me that jewelry I asked for?" he asked.
"Yes," I admitted. "But you didn't say it was for the ritual."
"I wanted to surprise you. I got you one too," he said, pulling a ring with the Malfoy crest off his middle finger. I noticed then that he was wearing two; the usual one he always wore was on his right ring finger and the second, slightly larger one, from his right middle finger.
"You did?" I asked, like a lovesick puppy. My heart rate sped up as my mind started making wild leaps.
"Yes, I'll put it on your hand during the ritual. Where's mine?" he asked, holding the ring out for me to see.
It was beautiful, simple, and elegant: silver engraved with a serpent.
"It's in my trunk," I answered. It had arrived a week ago, and I'd wanted to keep it safe until the time felt right. I didn't know when it would feel right, but now it seemed I had my answer. "Isn't that the Slytherin crest, not the Malfoy crest?"
"No, they're different. Slytherin is a snake. Malfoy is a serpent, see?" he asked, motioning towards the engraving.
"No…" I admitted.
"It's all in the gills! Slytherin snakes don't have gills. Malfoy water-serpents do!" he explained animatedly.
I chuckled, and conceded, "All right, so Malfoys have gills."
He smiled smugly and slipped the ring back onto his middle finger. "Exactly."
I had the sudden urge to kiss that smug smile off his face. I could picture myself doing it. I was reaching out for him, about to pull his head down so that I could reach his lips with mine…Then Draco went into a trance and I knew it wouldn't be good. The trance lasted only a second, so I barely had time to realize this, before he was coming out. I feared he was reaching for his wand to curse me, but all he did was push me away and look at me with disbelief.
"Still?" he asked.
A month ago, he would have said it with a sneer on his face, maybe even vomited. Two months ago, he would've Crucioed me. But now that we had almost become friends, he looked at me with sadness and maybe a bit of pity.
"Yes. You're not disgusted?" I asked in return.
He shrugged. "It was only a kiss."
I looked at him, wondering if things could change. It'd only been two months since he'd told me he'd seen me raping him. Lately when I imagined him, I hadn't imagined having sex with him; I'd only imagined him standing there in front of me, touching himself and if I found myself with my imagination getting away from me, I would stop it by asking fantasy Draco for consent. If his reaction to me could change from anger, disgust, vomiting, and feeling violated, to indifference in so short a period, could I change his feelings completely? If I left sex out of the equation, like Dumbledore said, could I have a relationship with Draco? And if I gave him time to heal emotionally, would he one day recover enough to want sex? Or would he be forever asexual?
If he was stuck this way, would I mind? It would be wrong of me to lead him on, to let him think I was okay with having a relationship with him without sex, if I wasn't really. I couldn't make him think I was okay with it, just to give him a chance to heal from the rape, and then switch things up on him. If I wanted him, I had to commit to a life of celibacy if he never healed, or I had to give him up.
In that moment, I wanted him. I didn't know if I would always want him more than I wanted sex, but right then, I did.
Draco went into another trance and came out of it an instant later, smiling.
It occurred to me then that I'd seen these very short trances before; he'd been doing them all along, since first year. I'd thought it was his way of posturing, to pause for a split second before reacting, but really he'd been having visions.
"What did you see?" I asked.
"Me growing old. I'm going to live," he answered.
"I'm glad," I said reaching out to him.
He took my hand in his and held it. "We'll do the ritual tomorrow. You'll like it; you'll see," he said, still smiling. I smiled back at him.
We stayed like that for a minute, but then the moment was broken by a yawn.
"You're tired," I said, as he continued to yawn.
"Yes. Can you finish up tonight by yourself? It's just another forty-three minutes until the timer goes off, then three counter-clockwise stirs."
"Then let it brew until eleven and sneak back in here to cast a stasis charm, I know," I reassured.
He squeezed my hand, nodded, and then left, taking his Malfoy crest ring with him.
Author's note: What do you think of Draco's surprise? Please review!
I would like to give a special thanks to Tyler3443 and MrsGinPotter for reviewing the last chapter! Your feedback is invaluable :D