CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SEARCH PARTY

"What did Madame Pomfrey mean?!" cries Hermione Granger. The school nurse was gone now and Draco Malfoy is looking expectantly at the statue of the former Hogwarts Healer.

"Charles, surely you must know," he prompts. "What is going on here?"

"I thought you and the girl would have figured it out by now," remarks Charles Curative. He looks surprised. "Aurora's a Gifted."

"A… what?" Draco frowns. "I thought they weren't real."

Hermione leans against the Infirmary doors, her face alight with devastated realization. "They have powers, just like us. Only they don't call it magic."

"More like abilities," offers Charles. "Special abilities on specific things. In Aurora's case, the weather."

Hermione looks at him. "But I read that they don't manifest until they turn thirteen."

"Adolescence usually triggers the manifestation," he nods. "But she's been sick. I think that made her display her powers earlier than expected."

"She doesn't get sick when there's a storm," Hermione realizes. "When there's a storm, she's sick!"

"She controls the weather?" Draco demands of the statue. "Aurora?"

"Control is the operative term," Charles says uncertainly. "Now you two listen to me. She's ill and very young. That storm out there, that's her doing. She can toss the both of you off the ground and kill you with a bolt of lightning without wanting to. That's why Madame Pomfrey wants you to stay here. She's dangerous."

"And what about Aurora?!" exclaims Hermione. "She's not safe either! How do we know she's not getting boshed against the trees by her own bloody blizzard?!"

"She's right," nods Draco. "Way I see it, Aurora needs calming down. And we're the only one who can do it. She trusts us."

"Oh for goodness' sake! Believe me, the last thing we expect the both of you to be are heroes. You will stay here!"

Draco rolls his eyes. "As if you can do something about it."

"Mr. Malfoy, you will stay put!"

"Let's see you get off that pedestal first, Curative," Hermione put on.

Draco frowns. "No, you're staying."

"I beg your pardon?!"

With a tight grip on her arm, Draco leads Hermione back to the small surgery where Patricia Haughton remains heavily sedated, unaware of her surroundings.

"Let go of me!" she cries, punching his arm. "No! Stop it! Stop it!"

Draco easily dodges her blows but not without some annoyance. "Hermione, you heard what Charles said, it's dangerous."

"Oh-ho! Concerned about my well being, are you? Afraid I might slip and fall and break your bloody heart in the bloody process?" She glares at him and shoves him back. "SAVE IT."

Draco's face is wrought with shame. "Okay." He raises his wand. "Accio wands!"

From Hermione and Patricia's pockets, their wands are summoned into his hands. The conscious girl curses with conviction.

"You! Give! That! Back!"

"Stay, Hermione."

"Oh, I'm wrong!" Hermione exclaims. "You want to look like a hero! Always about you, isn't it, Malfoy?"

"I'm just doing what I should've done for you. I'm stepping up to the plate and being a man," he solemnly answers.

She shakes her head. "Too late for that now, isn't it?"

Without another word, Draco turns his back to her and locks the door upon his wake. Through them, Hermione hears Charles Curative's cries of disdain. Draco's footsteps were gone in no time.

She rolls her eyes and takes a Galleon out of her robe pocket. "Really Malfoy. You think taking my wand will stop me?" She looks around and finds a sturdy stool right next to Patricia's bed. She stands on it and puts the golden coin right into the flame of one of the surgery's lit candlesticks.

"This better work," she mumbles. "I hope everyone still has theirs with them."

"Your move," snickered Ron as he moved his pawn down a square.

Harry glared at him.

"Why do you even bother, eh? I always win." His redhead best friend stretched out on his chair and tucked his arms underneath his head.

"You just win most of the time," muttered Harry. He bent his head over the board and as a result, didn't notice Ginny skip down the steps that lead to the girls' dormitory.

"Have you two seen Hermione?" she asked. She leaned over to look at the chess board and tut-tutted. "Harry, why do you even bother?"

"That's what I said," Ron said smugly.

Harry looked hurt at his girlfriend's comment. "I feel tonight's the night, G."

"Take on snakes and You-Know-Who, I'll give you that. But beat me in Wizard's Chess?"

The two blokes began to bicker.

"Keep it down you two," she sighed as she glanced at the clock. Near midnight. Outside, the shutters banged menacingly on the common room windows. "I didn't see Hermione at dinner, did you?" she asked them.

"Well she hardly eats nowadays," shrugged Ron. "But I reckon Hagrid invites her over for tea right after detention.

"She's not upstairs?" Harry asked, distracted.

Ginny shook her head. "I doubt that Hagrid made her work an extra hour or two. It's storming outside."

"OOOWWW!!"

Ginny and Harry looked at Ron quizzically.

"What did you do?!" Ron shouted at Harry. He patted his front pocket as if he'd been burned.

"My hands are right here!" Harry exclaimed, flipping his hands over a mere inches from his best friend's face.

"Oi," Ginny said slowly. "Your pyjamas are singed, Ron."

Her brother looked down and saw it. A perfectly round burn mark on his thigh. "What the bloody hell?" Slowly, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a Galleon. It was still iron hot so he immediately threw it down the carpet.

Three heads came together and looked at it. It glowed an angry red and started burning the carpet.

"Ah!" Harry started stomping on the tiny flame. He looked at Ron. "Was that the DA Galleon?"

"Yeah," he said. "What's going on? How come yours isn't doing that?"

"Well I don't have mine with me right now," Harry replied. "How about you, Ginny? Ginny?"

"I don't have mine, either," Ginny looked at the two of them but Harry could tell her thoughts were far away. Her brows nearly met, a sign that she was thinking hard. "D'you reckon it's Hermione?"

The two shrugged.

"Because I didn't know you could do that with our Galleon and she was the one who made it," she said again, still deep in thought.

"If she wanted to tell us something, then why didn't she just spell it out with her wand?" Ron muttered bitterly. "Saved some of us a pair of pyjamas."

"Maybe she doesn't have her wand with her."

Harry frowned. "She always has it."

"What if somebody took it?"

"Why would somebody do that?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, "but I bet it's the same person who made her look like a thief during mocks."

"The Pug Squad?" Ron asked. "She's ten times smarter than the lot of them! I'm ten times smarter than the lot of them!"

"That's why I'm worried," Ginny frowned.

"Only one way to find out," Harry said. "I'll get the Marauder's Map."

A few minutes later, the three of them convened at the common room again, the Wizard's Chess board tucked away. Harry pointed at the yellowed parchment. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

"Or somebody else," muttered Ron.

"Shh," Ginny glared.

"I can't see anyone," Harry said.

"Why are you looking outside? Check the Infirmary," Ginny ordered.

"Bloody hell, Ginny," Ron said. "There's Hermione. And she's in the same room as Patricia's! That can't be good."

"No it can't," nodded his sister. She gasped. "Oh! And look who's running away in the opposite direction!"

"That snake!" Ron growled.

Harry closed the map. "That's it. Get your brooms and wands, mates. We're stepping in."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Mates?"

"I mean," Harry flustered, "don't bother, love. Just wait for us here and I'll get mine." After a quick kiss on her cheek, he left Ginny in the common room and trailed after Ron to the dorms.

Ginny shook her head and looked at the Galleon on the carpet which started glowing again. "Don't worry, Hermione. We're on the way."