"I am happy to see that I have delivered at least one item of good news." Rowena was still smiling. "I do apologise for not being able to tell you any more. Salazar and Rosa were the only ones who ever suffered from this."

Hermione tore her gaze from Draco's (the fool had the cheek to smirk at her!) with a slightly warm face. "Did they go on to lead a normal life?"

Rowena nodded but the smile slid from her face. "We made a pledge then and there to make sure that something like that would never happen again. For the education and communication of British witches and wizards to never be as divided as we had seen it. And from hence, we built Hogwarts; a school like no other, where all magic-kind could learn what it truly meant to have magic. Salazar left with Rosa not long after, and they went on to have three children. But that is all I know, I am afraid."

A shaft of pale morning light suddenly cut across the room between them, as though it was a stark reminder of their limited time together.

Draco gave the arched windows a strange glance. "Is there anything else we should know?" he asked.

Rowena rose from her chair in one fluid movement. "I came to ease your woes, not add to them." She smiled briefly at them both and Hermione's chest immediately felt lighter. "This magic shall not be a burden to you four as it was to us. If it weren't for Merlin's curse, we would have lived very happily for a very long time."

Draco shifted next to Hermione. His unease made her uneasy and she couldn't help it. "What exactly was this curse?" he questioned.

"For us to live out our days successfully… and to have it torn down by those we loved and trusted the most." Rowena looked at the ground. "As Merlin had."

"Dare I ask," Hermione spoke cautiously. "What happened?"

There was a piercing in Rowena's eyes as she met Hermione's gaze, as though she was questioning whether to answer.

"Helena," Rowena finally said. "She stole my diadem… and nothing was the same after that. We began to fall, one by one."

"Oh," Hermione deflated a little. They already knew a little of that story. Rowena had lost everything after the diadem was taken and lost. Her daughter's consequent death had been the reason for her losing her mind, according to Hogwarts: A History. But what after Rowena had told them, Hermione was saddened by the fact that perhaps not all of what she had read was true, either.

"Godric was the first, which was as he had lived, I suppose." Rowena's eyes glazed over as she recanted the past. "His knights left him behind in the on the isle of Lewis. They had been waiting for him to return in time for the portkey, but instead they took it and fled, leaving my poor Godric to face the blue men of Minch alone."

Hermione brought her hand to cover her mouth. So even the Founders magic was stilted by salt water? In normal Apparition it was impossible to cross bodies of salt-water, and if Godric Gryffindor had used portkeys to do so, there was no way they would be able to, either.

Still in shock, Hermione dropped her hand. It had been common for people to commission portraits during their younger years to be immortalised as their best selves… but for all their fame, the Founders had absolutely nothing in their later years. Hermione hadn't particularly questioned it, but as Rowena spoke, it was clear the Founders hadn't had any later years.

"Helga was second. Her husband was an advisor to the Caledon King, the was the biggest Muggle threat the wizarding world had at the time… but Gerbet was enthralled by him. The buffoon." Rowena shook her head and Hermione fought the urge to giggle. Despite the situation, the fact that Rowena Ravenclaw had called someone a buffoon in Hermione's presence would be something she would never forget.

"Gerbet told King James about Helga's special healing abilities." Hermione was taken aback at the fury in Rowena's eyes and venom in her voice. She could have sworn her hair was blowing slightly, as though touched by a gentle breeze. "He sent for her, appearing to seek her assistance… and he put her to the stake."

Draco's sharp intake of breath echoed in Hermione. How could they not know this? How could no one know any of this?

"Salazar's eldest son killed him the following night. He had heard a false prophecy about if his father were slain, his power would pass on to the one who took his life. Therefore, Emory took a knife and slipped into his parent's bedchambers during the night and slit his father's throat. But the falsity quickly proved true and out of guilt, Emory slit his own throat with the very same knife."

Hermione sniffed. Her eyes were beginning to water. So much horror, and for what? A single miscommunication?

"As for myself," Rowena let out her words in one breath. She inhaled deeply. "It was my mind which betrayed me. These thoughts… these intrusions, I could not keep them at bay. Haunting me, teasing me. Reminding me of my losses… it overwhelmed me."

Hermione opened her mouth to try and attempt to comfort Rowena. They did not need to hear this; they knew most of the information already. But Rowena continued to speak.

"I took my own life in this very office."

Hermione could not help the immediate show of shock on her face in that moment. Where? How? When? So many questions, yet, all so inappropriate.

"I fell from the window, but as this is room does not exist in true reality, I fell straight into the void; appearing in the Other World seemingly untouched." A single tear fell from Rowena's searing blue, almond-shaped eye.

Another shaft of morning light breached the windows, now a reflection of Rowena's sadness.

"But now it is truly my time," Rowena said, with a small smile and a glance behind her. Her entire posture changed at the reminder of her released burden. "I thank each of you. There is no other I would have rather been bestowed with this gift. Yes, I do believe it is a gift. While we may have been cursed, we still achieved true greatness. And I believe you can do much more."

Hermione and Draco turned to each other, the same expression mirrored in each other's eyes: pure and utter relief. But when they turned back to face Rowena, she was gone.

…

Harry had no idea that he had fallen asleep until a loud snore startled him awake – his snore. He sighed and rubbed his face hard with both of his hands. Why couldn't he just have a drink and that be that? Why had he turned into a whiskey drinker? He didn't even like it!

"Well, if you don't like it, don't bloody drink it."

Harry shot out of his chair at the sound of Tracey's voice. His heart was racing as he saw the outline of her silhouette against the windows. Obviously, his snooze hadn't sobered him up much more and he'd said that stupid last part aloud.

"Do you want to kill me?" Harry breathed, with a shake of his head as his heart did not stop racing. He noticed that Regulus had also left. How long had he been asleep?

Tracey stepped into a light where Harry could see that she had a wry smile on her face. "Honestly, no, and about twenty minutes."

Harry frowned. Had he spoken aloud again? "Shut up," he muttered aloud, aware of his voice this time.

Tracey raised a thin, dark eyebrow. "Is your brain broken or are you just drunk?"

With another sigh, Harry put his hand to his forehead. "Both probably," he mumbled. He opened one eye to peer at Tracey. "Why are you even here?" he asked and dropped his hand. A quick glance out the window told him it was morning, or the early hours at least.

"I like to run in the mornings," Tracey replied honestly. "Why are you here? You don't even go here anymore."

Harry had not expected this answer from her. But then again, he didn't really know anyone who ran. For, like, fun. He sat back down in the armchair and picked up the whiskey glass. There had been a reason he was so piss-drunk and he wasn't ready to remember it quite yet. "Cool," he replied after a sip of the apparently never-ending Glenfiddich. "My friends are here." He returned a dash of the honesty Tracey had given him.

Tracey took this as an invitation and sat in Regulus' vacated seat across from him. "You're sad," she observed.

Harry took another drink.

"Did someone die?" she pushed.

Tracey received a heavy sigh from Harry as a reply.

She didn't ask any more questions after that but remained sitting across from him. Harry didn't feel particularly uncomfortable sitting in silence with Tracey, and it was likely the fact that he didn't made him so.

"Aren't you going to go run?" he asked without looking at her.

Tracey scoffed. "In the snow?"

This caught Harry's attention. He looked up at her with his eyebrows raised. "It's snowing?"

Tracey nodded. "Pretty bad. It started when I first came down and I thought I'd wait it out. Since it's a bit early in the season, I didn't expect it to be so bad… but I think it might even–"

A loud boom and flash of light jolted them both in their seats. Harry craned his neck around the chair. He could see the flurry of snow now rushing past the high windows and damn, it was bad. But thundersnow? On the 1st of November? Something wasn't right.

Harry shook his head and dropped his head back onto the seat. He would bet that the storm had something to do with Hermione and Draco's weird psychic connection thing.

"At least someone's getting some," he muttered and took another sip.

Tracey's look of disgust and confusion was enough to make Harry splutter and laugh. God, he must have sounded like a complete weirdo. To look at an unseasonal snow-storm and assume some people were having sex was not something even Harry thought he would hear.

"You don't even want to know," he said after gaining control of his choking laughter.

Tracey smiled. "To be honest, I don't think I do."

…

Hannah had been in and out of sleep for an hour when she heard her dorm room door creak open. She assumed it was Hermione, finally finishing her studies for the night. But when she felt her own bed dip as someone sat down on it, her heartrate started to quicken, and she flipped over, ready to curse whoever had invaded her space.

"Woah," Regulus whispered as he grabbed her wrists, which had been ready to fight. "It's just me." She saw his small smile through the blue bleeding light of the morning gloom and he let go of her.

Hannah began to sit up, but Reg just made himself comfortable next to her in a semi-reclined position, so she stayed lying down, looking up at him.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

This was very unlike him. He had never come into her room in the middle of the night (or morning, really) before. Plus, he stank as bad as the Leaky Cauldron on Hogmanay.

Reg simply let out a deep breath. "He's gone," he finally said.

Hannah frowned. Who was gone? But she could hear the emotion in Regulus' voice, so didn't probe him further. They lay in silence for a few more minutes and Hannah could feel her eyelids grow heavy.

Regulus kicked off his shoes and the thudding sound they made jolted Hannah awake again. He slid down her headboard so that he now lay facing her.

"I'm not intruding, am I?" he whispered. His breath fanned out over her neck and the goosebumps it caused were not unwelcome. Sure, he might have smelled like a distillery, but Hannah was a whiskey lover anyway.

She shuffled closer to him until she could feel his thighs with her tucked up knees through the cover. "No," Hannah replied. "Not at all." Her heart began to race for an entirely different reason.

Reg's tilted smirk melted something in Hannah's stomach. He's just staring! I don't even know what to say. Say something you idiot!

"Are you happy that I'm here?" Reg said, breaking Hannah's one-way tense silence.

Hannah gave him a one-shoulder shrug, as she was lying on the other one. "You did give me a bit of a fright…"

Regulus' soft chuckle shook the bed a little. "No, I meant me being here. Coming back to life. Coming to Hogwarts. Meeting you."

"Oh," Hannah felt her face becoming warm. "Of course I'm happy you're here," she said, pushing his shoulder teasingly. "Who else would I have to sneak into my room in the early hours of the morning to give me a heart attack?"

Reg used the momentum from her push to move closer and Hannah lost a little bit more of the breath left in her chest. He was now so close she could see the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes from his stupid grin.

"You have no idea how badly I want you right now." Regulus' husky whisper had nothing to do with the amount he'd had to drink, and the thought gave Hannah a pleasurable chill down her spine.

"Then take me," Hannah replied in such a forward fashion, she barely recognised her own voice. But let her be damned if she didn't get what she wanted right then and there.

Reg quirked an eyebrow but otherwise showed no sign of surprise at Hannah's statement. "We're libertas operatus though… there's consequences," he replied with a small frown, but he did not move any further away.

Hannah looked down at his lips and back up at his eyes and her legs began to quiver. "To hell with the consequences," she said, and she leaned in to kiss him. "There's no more ghosts to vanquish anyway," she whispered, a breath away from his mouth.

Regulus was smiling as her lips reached his. It was gentle at first, but as soon as their tongues made contact, his kiss was crushing. Hannah's arms wound themselves around his neck, her hands delved deep into his hair. She pulled herself up and closer to him, partially out of the covers.

It took barely a second and Hannah felt the breeze before she realised Regulus had grabbed her duvet with one hand and yanked it so far away from her it had fallen off the bed.

As Reg rolled on top of her, Hannah couldn't help but think thank god she'd worn her nice pyjamas, but not that Regulus was thinking about her in any kind of clothing. Hannah let out a sigh of contentment and began to tug at Regulus' shirt. He took the hint and pulled away, kissing her lightly on the nose, and pulled his shirt off with one hand over his head.

Hannah let out a shaky breath with a smile on her face. She didn't want to question why it was so hot when boys did that… just like she never wanted to forget the visual of Regulus doing it. Especially when he looked like that.

Her hands were on his torso before her mind had even acknowledged its perfection. His stomach was warm and firm, just like his embrace. He was straddling her, waiting with a smile on his face. When Hannah looked back up and made contact with his hazy gaze, the heat between her legs began to grow and she bucked slightly.

Regulus was quick in lowering himself to kiss her again, while putting a warm hand up her camisole to graze her nipple gently. Hannah inhaled sharply. She could not handle even this. With a slight pressure on his chest, Hannah had enough room to whip off her own top and throw it as far away from them as possible.

As she dropped back down onto her pillow, Regulus' mouth met the skin on her neck, just below her ear. Hannah was beginning to feel like she might explode and then he began to suck lightly on that one sweet spot tucked in the fold of her neck and all Hannah could do was focus on keeping breathing.

He moved to the base of her neck, and then the dip between her breasts.

"So. Damn. Perfect," he muttered as he planted hot, wet kisses all the way to her bellybutton.

When he reached the band of her shorts, Hannah couldn't handle it anymore. She grabbed his face and pulled it to hers. One breathless kiss later, Hannah pushed Regulus from her and began to tug at his belt.

"Off," she breathed. "I want it off."

Regulus had a carefree, lopsided grin on his face as he started to undo his belt. Hannah wanted to snicker at his mussed hair, but she was too eager to what was happening next. Then, even though she had been watching him, Hannah didn't see where his trousers had gone; one minute he was taking off his belt and the next he was pressing his torso down onto her bare breasts in nothing but his boxers.

His teeth grazed her ear and Hannah bucked again. She could feel herself becoming wet as his mouth reached her nipple.

"Oh," she breathed as her body arched when Reg began to suck lightly.

Her hands were woven into his hair and she was took distracted to notice when his hand disappeared into her pants and he began to gently stroke her.

"Oh, god," Hannah murmured. Her knees were beginning to wobble. She didn't have long. "Just take it off," she managed to breath. "Take it all off."

She pulled at Regulus' boxers as her own underwear came off in one swift movement. He hovered above her, one arm supporting his weight, the other pushed Hannah's hair away from her face. He was naked as the day he was born but this simple action made a different part of Hannah flutter.

Regulus kissed her softly and began to stroke her again, this time inserting a finger. Hannah knew he was being generous, but the wetness she could feel seeping between her legs, she knew there was no need.

Enough was enough. Hannah grabbed Regulus by his beautiful, beautiful shoulders and pulled him down and around so that she was now atop him. She grabbed him by his very erect penis and breathed deeply as she guided it into her.

There was an echoed sigh as they connected. Wow, Hannah thought. Wow, wow, wow.

As Hannah began to grind rhythmically, it was Regulus' breathing which started to become erratic. He reached up one hand and began to massage her breasts. Hannah guided him and his other hand to continue stroking her again. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on her neck.

Nothing, nothing was as good as that moment. Right there, with Regulus. Nothing.

However, what either of them failed to notice was that the day had still not broken. The forming storm clouds perhaps had something to do with that. Perhaps.

…

"The Pensieve."

Draco blinked twice. "Sorry, what?" he asked.

Hermione shot up out of the chair and started to walk frantically around the room. "Get me the Pensieve. I need somewhere to keep this memory."

"Oh, right," Draco nodded. What Pensieve? he thought as Hermione stopped and walked back to Rowena's desk. Sure, getting one made sense. Because of course Hermione would want to study and over-analyse Rowena's words immediately. And the best way to do that is to store the memory itself in a Pensieve: the earlier you did it, the better quality the remembrance.

He watched her search for about a minute with a smirk on his face. Draco wondered when she would realise there was a much easier way to find what she was looking for.

Hermione was frantically browsing Rowena's bookcase when she finally whipped around, an accusing glare in her eyes. "Why are you not helping me?"

Draco sat back in the Ravenclaw-come-Granger chair and crossed his arms. "You do realise you're a witch, don't you? A pretty powerful one at that?"

Hermione's glare grew deeper. "Yes of course I do!" She huffed and resumed pulling out books and trinkets from poor Rowena's shelves. She paused again after three more books. Draco could see Hermione's shoulders droop from behind. She turned slowly to his expectant face.

"You could have just reminded me, you know," she grumbled as she walked around the desk.

Draco held back his grin unsuccessfully and Hermione walked behind the chair. He followed her with his eyes and his head stopped at a strange angle when she did.

"Where's the fun in that, Granger?"

Hermione reappeared from behind the chair and leaned close to Draco's face. She smelled like parma violets.

"Where's the fun in you, Malfoy?" she replied and tore away, leaving Draco gaping after her.

"Why are you still not summoning it?" Draco questioned, despite not being able to see Hermione.

She walked around from the other side of the chair, now holding a rather large stone basin. Where the hell that had come from, Draco had no idea. It was carefully placed on the desk in front of Draco before Hermione replied.

"Because," She put one hand on her hip and leaned the other on the arm of the bronze chair. "I don't think anything in this room can be summoned."

Draco shrugged. She was likely right. "You still could have used a charm to see where it was though."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a smile grew on her face. "That wouldn't have worked either," she replied, standing straight.

It only took one wave of her hand for the silvery substance to begin to flow from her ears. Hermione navigated it towards the bowl with a tenderness Draco had never seen her possess before and it was enthralling to watch.

"Can you believe it though?" he asked quietly as Hermione finished and drew her hands out of the basin. "If you hadn't been here, too, I would have thought I'd imagined the entire thing."

She turned to face him and leaned on the desk, their thighs touching in the most minuscule, yet intimate, way. Draco drank in the image of her silhouetted against the grey-lilac sky outside.

"I'm still processing, but I think it's fair to say we just learned the dirtiest secrets of British wizarding history." Hermione's smirk was enough to raise Draco straight out of the chair. Her surprise at his proximity was enough to force a wide smile out of him.

He fingered a ringlet of one of her curls before cupping her cheek with his uninjured hand. Hermione closed her eyes at his touch.

"So, what do you think?" Draco asked teasingly.

"Mm?" Hermione murmured as he caressed her face.

"About what she said about 'firsts'?"

Hermione stiffened and opened her eyes, but she did not draw away. "I believe her. But it's still magic that scares me."

With a sigh, Draco dropped his hand. "We'd be mad not to fear elements of it. But I think we should listen to her and feel more… free."

"I can't stop thinking about Stellan's work, though," Hermione replied, but not to anything Draco had said. He knew then that he had lost her to her thoughts. "We should have his notes, but we don't."

"I agree," He added. Hermione's sharp look up made Draco chuckle briefly. "We should have them… but we don't need them right now."

Hermione's tiny burrowed frown melted Draco's heart a little. Her confusion was endearing, and he wanted to punch himself in the gut for thinking so.

"We should look for them," she replied stubbornly.

"Of course." Draco rolled his eyes. "But it shouldn't be the only thing we focus on."

"Well, what else is there?" Hermione sounded exasperated and Draco smiled.

"For one, there are classes we actually have to attend."

Hermione's wide eyes and slightly parted lips told him that she had, in fact, entirely forgotten about school.

And nothing had made ever Draco laugh harder than he did in that strange non-existent office.

A/N: SMUT ! Too late for a warning? Well, it is an M rated story, ok. There had to be some.

Here's some fun facts about the history of this chapter:

- King James VI was the Scottish King of Great Britain (the first to hold monarchy over both countries; called James I in England) during this time and was obsessed with witches and magic. He even wrote books about it. He was the son of Mary Queen of Scots if that helps identify which one of the MANY James' Scotland had as Kings.

- The blue men of Minch were blue-skinned men-like creatures who haunted the seas around the islands of Scotland, more famously Lewis. They lured and drowned sailors and visitors alike.

- There's hundreds of years of history about salt and witches (in Scotland salt was put around butter churners to stop witches from bewitching it) but it has always been a deterrent to magical people (if not used in spells).

- Glenfiddich means 'Valley of the stag' in Gaelic, hence Harry's drinking. (Plus, it's good.)

- Also, worth noting that lightning is symbolised as a loss of ignorance.

Hey, I just can't not add real history into this when it just fits so damn well.

Thanks as always.

Holly - xo