Chapter 24: Transition

Draco set his bag down heavily on the table. He glanced up at Hermione as he reached for his potions, noticing that she was watching him too closely, like her mind was elsewhere. Placing a vial of Polyjuice on the table, he was about to speak when Harry approached.

"You have Polyjuice potion already?" Potter queried.

Draco nodded, lifting the vial to prove it while still looking at Hermione. She seemed to snap out of her deep thoughts suddenly, and cleared her throat.

Harry stepped closer for a better look at Draco's collection. "What's this?" He pointed to the box Hermione had previously explored while they had been living in the tent.

She crossed her arms, "It's full of hair."

Harry appeared perplexed, "Excuse me?"

Defensively Draco rebutted, "It was just for testing…"

Harry slid the case closer to inspect it, which Draco did not like, possessively sliding it back.

Adjusting his glasses with partial suspicion, Harry peered at the other items peeking out of Draco's bag. "Blimey, Malfoy, what are you, a mad scientist?"

Draco grinned, "Well…"

He was interrupted by a bitter voice near the stairwell, "You can get a lot when you're filthy rich, I reckon."

Both Hermione's and Harry's heads swiveled around to look at Ron; Draco only quietly sniffed, opting to say nothing, and proceeded to open a small box containing strands of Bellatrix's hair.

Continuing to keep his distance from the three of them, Ron had crossed his arms and merely leaned back against the newel post. Harry shifted so Ron could see what they were doing, in an effort to include him. "We're checking out the Polyjuice potion Hermione will have to take... to become Bellatrix."

Remaining in place, Ron only peered up, looking into the general area of the table and avoiding eye contact with everyone. Draco quickly shut his case; he assumed Weasley would not take it kindly if he discovered that one of the small drawers contained his own hair.

"Okay, Granger, here is her hair... and this is a vial of two-hour long polyjuice."

Hermione slowly reached out for both items, not eager to hold the hair of her enemy between her fingers. The hair was thick and coarse, and the second she plucked it from Draco's outstretched fingers, she wanted to drop it near the fire.

They had all gone quiet, but she could feel the boys' eyes on her, even Ron's. Not wanting to appear weak, she wrapped the hair around the vial and shakily grabbed her purse to find a small pocket where she could keep it safe. Having safely stored them away, she placed her bag down again quickly, like it had stung her. Someone shifted, which caused her to focus back on her friends, and she peeked up to see Draco and Harry exchanging glances.

Something about it bothered her, that perhaps both of them were thinking the same thing. Even if they had never agreed on anything in their lives, she did not want their first accord to be about her wavering courage.

"I'll be fine!" she burst out.

Ron seemed to have picked up on Harry's and Draco's mutual doubt. Taking advantage of the situation, he made his way over to the table near her, "I know you will be, Hermione. Bravest witch I know."

His abrupt mood alteration caused everyone to study him; something about it immediately bothered Draco.

Ignoring their scrutinizing, Ron stuck his hands into his pockets, "Anyone want to catch me up on the plan?"

Harry nodded, his eyes flickering to Draco, who was busy tucking everything away into his bag. When he had finished, he walked back to the den, and did not reappear.

Hermione hesitated, wondering if she should go check on him. Luckily, Harry was perceptive enough to make it easier on her, "Hermione, why don't you, er, get some air. I'll catch Ron up on the plan."

"Harry?"

"You're about to turn into Bellatrix," he insisted, letting the weight of that reality settle. "Trust me when I suggest you should get some air before you do something like that."

Hermione studied Harry for a second wondering if he wished he had a few moments of preparation before his visions into Voldemort's mind. With a shiver, she was suddenly thankful that she was only posing as Bellatrix, as opposed to an evil witch invading her mind.

She quietly pushed in her chair, glancing up at Ron for the briefest of moments before walking over to the den to see if perhaps Draco could use some fresh air as well.

The door was slightly ajar. She tapped lightly on it, "Take a walk?"

Draco turned away from the window to look up at her, nodding quietly. Hermione guessed that something was wrong, and suspected it had to do with Ron.

As they both approached the door to step out, Ron chirped, "Don't forget the protective spells."

Everyone paused and gave Ron an odd look, but he only smiled softly at Hermione. She held up her wand in response. "Yes, thanks for the reminder, Ron."

Pushing open the door for her, Draco guided her outside, as she took a single backward glance at the table toward Ron, only to find him glaring past her with his eyes fixed on Draco. It made her wonder if he had some plan to hex him in his sleep.

Closing the door behind her, she turned toward Draco, who was shaking his head and nearly smiling.

"What?"

"You know what."

"You mean Ron?"

Draco huffed, looking upward where there were dark clouds in the sky. "He's not going to give up."

"Oh, really," she retorted, "and you know Ron well enough to know this?"

Draco looked down, slicing the thick mud by the toe of his boot, "No, but I know what it's like to be in love with you." He peeked up at her, only just noticing in the daylight the bright red paint of the old wooden door that she stood in front of. "He would never just suddenly be out-of-love with you."

Hermione took a step down from the stone stoop, wanting to be closer to him. "Oh?"

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he replied, "Yes, well, he's taking a different approach than I did…"

With a chuckle, she teased, "Oh, you mean, being nice?" She raised her arms to focus on casting a few protective spells around them to prepare for their walk.

Draco watched her closely, mumbling, "Is that what you'd prefer?"

Finishing her spellwork, she sighed. "If I prefered nice, we would not be here right now." Pushing up onto the balls of her feet to kiss his cheek, she took his hand and nudged him to walk. She glanced back at the white stucco cottage, "Besides, I know what he's doing. I would have remembered the protective spells…"

Draco walked in step with her, their shoes slightly sticking to the areas of spotted grass and mud, "Oh yes, you're just too clever to forget such things." He squeezed her hand, nudging her gently. They were walking toward a broken-down white fence that looked as if it had held animals at one time.

Hermione grinned, relieved he was appearing to let go of whatever jealousy was building up. She replied to match his sass, "Yes, well, I am the brightest witch of my-"

Before she could finish, her foot slipped in the mud, and with a short yelp, she lost her balance.

Draco's arm was yanked down with her, but she had released his hand when she fell. Now, he looked down at where she sat in a thick layer of mud, and burst into a hearty laughter.

Noting her annoyance, he tried to stifle his mirth as he reached down to help her, "Clever you may be… but-"

Instead of letting him help her up however, Hermione gripped his forearm, pulling him hard to the earth. He, too, slipped, falling on his back and sending mud splattering in every direction.

Wiping away a bit of the muck that had splattered onto her face, Hermione began to cackle, "Yes, what were you saying about preferring nice?"

Heavy with mud, Draco sat up abruptly, arms out, "You are so vengeful, Granger-"

She quickly grabbed his shirt, dirtying the front and pulling him in for a kiss before he could continue. Taking the hint, he pressed back, pushing against her more and more until she was falling backward again. She squealed as the cold mud seeped through her shirt, pausing only to look up at him hovering over her. He was grinning, so she glanced down to his lips, giving him a small peck as she simultaneously reached for a handful of mud and quickly plastered it all on top of his head.

He broke their kiss, stunned.

"Hey, you look good as a brunette, Malfoy," she teased.

A slow grin began to grow on his face, making her heart race; she recognized that expression from the lake. She attempted to squirm out from under him before he could do anything, but her foot only slipped in the mud again.

Pressing against her leg with his knee, he murmured, "Where do you think you're going, Granger?"

Grabbing a pile of mud into his hand, he slathered it across her hair, as he challenged, "Maybe this will tame those locks!"

Mind racing, Hermione knew she had to do something fast. Scooping some more mud into her hands, she was only able to reach his lower back underneath his shirt, and slopped it against his bare skin.

Draco groaned, arching his back in shock.

Hermione tried to get up, but he was too quick. Holding her arms down, she felt the heavy, cold mud against her belly and she screeched. It only made her sink more into the mud below, "Draco!"

He let go, shifting to let her up. "Granger, I know you're tougher than that- and don't even pretend you're innocent."

She studied him as he settled next to her, only spots of his pale skin and hair showing now. "Thanks to you."

As she scanned her gaze up toward his muddy hair, there was a slight feeling of displacement. Draco did not look anything like himself, and she wondered how different she looked as well. Just as she was about to say something, she felt him press against her lips. Then, she fully allowed herself to imagine they were other people, in another world, where there was no war going on.

A long roll of thunder swiftly eased into a slow rainfall. Draco paused, pulling away from their kiss, and they both glanced up to the sky. Soon enough, the rain was falling harder, the mud on their skin beginning to thin out.

He watched her as she closed her eyes against the raindrops. Something about her sitting there, defenseless against the rain, made him lean in to whisper, "I always thought I'd be that boy, waiting for your letter..."

She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. Not sure what had made him confess such a thing, he watched her, not knowing how to continue, distracted by her freckles as they slowly reappeared when the mud washed away from her face. He could not think clearly, not when there were drops of rain clinging to her eyelashes, just as they were when they first kissed.

She reached up to wipe mud away from his cheek, "Did I ever thank you… for saving me?"

Draco began to grin, leaning in toward her as he slid his hand across her hip, "Oh yes, a few times, I believe."

He leaned in to kiss her neck, as she lightly slapped his shoulder. Her skin felt cool against his lips, and she gave a slight shiver, noting the drops of rain on his back that now felt like ice.

Moving to stand, he reached for her hand, "No tricks, Granger."

She gripped his forearm and he tightened his hold on hers, "I would never-"

As he pulled her up, a pain jolted through her arm, and she winced as he let go. Touching her skin where it had prickled, she wiped away the residual mud to reveal her scar.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, nodding, "Yes, perhaps the mud… it just stung for a moment."

As the rain began to feel heavier, splashing back up from the puddles, they headed back toward the house. At the door, Hermione stepped up to enter, but felt a tug on her hand. Draco had pulled her closer, kissing her strongly, as if going into the house meant that it would be their last.

She broke the kiss and looked him over, giving him a soft smile. As they stepped in, Harry and Ron immediately looked up from the table. Dripping wet, she nodded to Draco before turning away to go shower and change. She suspected he would retreat to the den and use magic to clean himself up, and she felt a pang when she realized that she wished he could join her.

During her shower, her mind initially fluttered with happy thoughts about Draco, her emotions floating until... it was as if she stepped into a dark hole. That hole was reality, and her logic forced her to confront the idea of transforming into Bellatrix.

Her heart raced. How will I act like her? I will have to alter my voice! I will have to find horrible clothes and heels, and feel her rotten teeth! Trying to calm herself by thinking logically, she was glad there was an expert in the house: Bellatrix's own nephew.

Once she was dressed, she padded down the stairs wrapping her hair into a messy bun. She glanced over to hear Ron, who was playing opposite Harry at chess, as he bemoaned that Muggle chess was far less interesting than he was used to. Shaking her head at the thought that Ron managed to fuss about such things no matter their state of predicament, she went directly to the den to knock on Draco's door.

Draco opened it, looking at her, then over to the boys still at the table, "Granger, you look intense all of a sudden..."

She nodded, "I need help." Clearing her throat, she specified, "I need to learn how to be Bellatrix."

Ron's voice came from the direction of the table, "You can do it, Hermione… if anyone can, it's you."

Hermione smirked at Draco as he rolled his eyes, well hidden from Ron. She turned to face the boys at the table, and began to walk toward them, "Thanks for your confidence Ron. I am… nervous. I thought Draco could help me with some of her expressions and words."

Harry dropped his pawn, giving up on the game, puffing out a breath, "Well, don't say anything too... nice… "

Crossing her arms she made a calculated effort to acknowledge Ron as she peeked up, "So, where do I start?"

Hermione guessed that Draco had approached as Ron sat up slightly, then she heard him join the conversation, "She's taller than you, and walks in heels..."

Hermione let her arms fall to her sides, "I'll need to find a pair…"

Ron eagerly spoke up, "Oh, and she moves her head a lot as if to study her prey..."

Harry contributed, "You'll have to be ruthless, Hermione. If those Goblins see a change in Bellatrix, they'll suspect something."

"Yes, if in doubt, be aggressive and throw objects around. You can do that, right?" Draco tilted his head, as if to check that she understood.

Hermione only shook her head. She knew he was jesting about the time she had tossed that vial at him in the tent, but right now, she needed to focus. "Right, what else?"

For the rest of the evening, the four of them compiled tips and suggestions. At moments she felt like they were school kids again, as Ron gave his best cackle impression courtesy of his mother when she retold the story of Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump. The feeling was brief, she should not take this lightly. Failing at a passable imitation of this evil witch might get them caught, or killed.

Realizing they had not eaten, they took a break and Hermione thought to use leftover scraps of food to make some sort of soup. She hoped to convince the boys it was a normal Muggle meal as to hear less grumbling.

As she was heating a cauldron of water, her scar began to prickle. What was in that mud? Am I allergic to something? She thought to bring it up to Draco, perhaps it had to do with Bellatrix, but as she glanced over, she changed her mind as she witnessed the boys all attempting conversation. From ear shot she suspected it was about professional quidditch.

After they had each made an effort to down her questionable soup, she felt exhausted, and finally suggested they turn in for the night. They all agreed.

As she made to follow Harry and Ron up the stairs, she turned back to look at Draco, who was making sure the boys kept walking so he could give her a peck on the lips.

"Sleep well, Granger, you'll need it."

Hermione swept her hands through his soft blond hair and kissed him back, whispering, "Good night."

She smiled and turned to go upstairs, only glancing back to find him still watching her. Something about his unwavering gaze made her feel uneasy, as if he was committing her to memory. She suspected it was because they were about to go do something dangerous.

Determined to get some sleep, she cleared her mind of the perilous task, and was somewhat successful for awhile... until she was abruptly awoken by a searing pain in her forearm.

Author's Note:

Thanks to my Beta, HeartOfAspen, for harassing me to get these chapters edited, been quite distracted lately! Also, totally stoked that another one of my stories got translated into Russian (Broken Quill). I imagine young Draco in his ushanka (Russian fur hat), taking a bow, a smirk dripping with smug self-satisfaction. (Sigh) Why do we like him again? :P