A/N: Firstly, I apologies a zillion times over for my delayed update. It's been a crazy few months...and this has been half written for a while. I finally got my act together and am back on board. I have been on a rampage with writing and have even finally updated A Cognitive Dissonance. As it happens, final film of HP is out this week. No, I did not plan it this way...:p
Of course, a massive revelation at the end of this chapter...lmk your thoughts! xoxox
It was from sheer willpower that Hermione managed to front up to Potions after her tumultuous encounters with both Slytherins in the space of a few days. One was a manipulative liar, and the other, well... a manipulative liar with antagonistic tendencies.
She had shifted her chair as far away from Malfoy as possible, so that when he finally graced the classroom with his presence, he could not miss the fact that she was not happy to be there. She sat waiting, formulating ways to avoid testing the potion the Professor was expecting them to finish today. After her most recent exchange with Malfoy, the last thing she wanted to do was swap memories. It was undeniably cringe worthy, and despite knowing it would come to this, experiencing it was just horrid. Her intimacies with both Slytherins had simply created fuel for more tainted verbal spats. Go figure. Gone were the days of innocent arms length insults. It was all about making each other suffer for their uncontrollable indiscretions – a clear sign that none of them could handle it maturely.
Hermione just wanted to escape the Castle and never return, rather than see Blaise or Malfoy in the same room together ever again. Time, and the grace of hindsight, just made it worse. Her recollections of telling Blaise that he just wanted to 'get in her pants' and Malfoy that she regretted him having her 'first' was downright embarrassing. What level headed Head Girl went around voicing such thoughts let alone allowed for circumstances to create them? Not to mention, she was having all these weird reactions around Malfoy lately and she couldn't even attribute them to a side-effect.
She was tyring her hardest to ignore them.
Hermione suddenly noticed the body sitting next to her. She wasn't sure how long he'd been there but the recognition of his presence was instant. It was the like a bolt of lightning striking her senses back to reality as the familiar scent of Malfoy hit her nostrils and she turned her head to see him looking at her with glacial eyes. Her flushing cheeks gave her away – she had been thinking about him while he was sitting there. She narrowed her eyes in defence and turned her head to the front of the room.
The next thing Hermione noticed was Blaise swiftly enter the classroom. She inwardly groaned and glanced down so that he would not catch her gaze. Malfoy was right – as much as she despised herself for admitting it – she had tried to excuse Blaise's behaviour because she had fallen for his charm. The sour taste in her mouth from agreeing with Malfoy, for a change, did not deter from the fact that Blaise was ultimately the catalyst for the whole situation leading to her near loss of magic. Not to mention, he had played her for selfish reasons. If Hermione really thought about it – and she had been thinking a lot about it – it was worse than Malfoy's conduct. At least Malfoy had not deferred from his usual self during the whole affair. He had consistently acted like a prat driven by potion riddled angst.
But then why did she have that niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach that hinted at an overarching long term implication?
Professor Snape sauntered into the room, interrupting her unfruitful contemplations with his laconic demeanour. "Do you all require an invitation to continue with your work from last class?" Well, he was in a great mood – almost as great as Hermione's. Her lips twitched at his address. No one moved.
"Miss Granger, do you think this is a funny?"
Hermione almost fell off her seat. "No, Professor," she replied hesitantly, wondering how he had even noticed.
"Detention."
"What?" She could not help her incongruous outburst.
"You wish to debate the matter?"
Hermione was about to speak up when she felt a foot hit her shin. Outraged at both Snape and the fact that Malfoy had just kicked her under the table, she just shook her head, tightening her lips to avoid causing a scene.
"See me after class." He turned to the front of the room, pointing his wand to open the cupboard which housed all their unfinished potions. "Now, get to work."
Hermione huffed, remaining unmoved, and crossed her arms in an effort to control her rising indignation. She should not have bothered turning up to class in the first place and her misplaced defiance was now affecting her work ethic.
She heard Malfoy shift from his seat with weighed reluctance as he headed toward the cupboard to collect their potion.
"It's his way of asking you to stay back," he said as he set the potion down in the middle of their work bench.
Hermione turned her eyes to him impatiently. "Look, I don't care what you think, Malfoy."
"I don't care if you don't care. I'm just telling you," he said, setting their potion up in the cauldron to heat it for the final ingredients.
"Don't feel the need to entertain me with your thoughts."
He rolled his eyes. "You forget, Granger. We have to share a memory at the end of this."
"I refuse."
"You refuse."
"Yes."
He sent her an irritated glare. "Why do you get to decide?"
"It would be a welcome change," Hermione spat, letting her arms fall free. She stood up.
"Now who's being immature?" he replied.
"Sod off, Malfoy."
"Well that's refreshing," she heard him mutter. Hermione could feel Malfoy's lingering stare on her back as she stood up and approached the Professor's desk.
"Miss Granger, detention is not negotiable." He did not shift his attention from his work.
"I would like to be excused from class, Professor."
Reluctantly, he turned his attention to her; his face holding an expression of mild amusement. "On what grounds? Surely, Mr. Malfoy is not causing any problems. After all, you did prefer that he return as Head Boy over another nominee." He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Hermione stifled a snort. Of course he would use that line of argument. "I can only assume that my sudden partnering with Draco Malfoy was a sign of gratitude for Slytherin maintaining its Head student representative."
"Careful, Miss Granger, one could easily interpret that as sarcasm." He smirked.
Hermione gave a tired shrug. "I am not trying to disguise it."
"While I don't have to explain myself to you, you might wish to think beyond the superficial, Miss Granger. Imagine if you remained partnered with Mr. Zabini. How do you think he would respond to your deepest memories should the potion attract any of them? Think of it as gratitude in your best interests."
What was he on about? At that moment, it dawned on Hermione that Snape was ignorant of the extent of Blaise's involvement. He had made them switch partners to protect her, and Malfoy's, reputation. What could she say without giving that little fact away? She attempted to switch tactics.
"I– I'm concerned that it will... uh, interfere with the purifying potion," she almost whispered. She could tell the Professor was growing impatient.
"See me after class, Miss Granger, and we can discuss any issues then, after you have tested your product."
Hermione nodded her reluctant assent and dragged her feet back to her work station. She could see that Malfoy had busied himself with completing it and she just stood at the end of the desk idly, not wishing to have to speak to Malfoy. Her eyes shifted to Blaise, catching him staring at her. Hermione could see he was in a foul mood.
"Well, did you get your way?" she heard Malfoy ask.
"Let's just get this over with," she dismissed, falling onto her stool with a thud.
"Your unruly hair is finally good for something, Granger. Kindly pull out a strand of that frizz and throw it in, will you?"
Hermione glared at him as she silently complied, combing her fingers through her hair to catch a loose strand. He did the same and she waited for him to drop it in before she let hers go over the cauldron. Malfoy stirred twice while she watched it dissolve.
He dipped the small dropper into the pot and coaxed the liquid into the glass before picking up an empty vial and squeezing the contents into it. It was a clear liquid, except for a silvery-cobalt swirl that showed itself in the right light. He handed the vial with its contents to her and repeated the steps for himself.
He looked over at her and shrugged. "Well...bottoms up, Granger."
Hermione drew her head back, closing her eyes as she tipped the surprisingly cool contents into her mouth.
She heard the distant clatter of glass as her head lolled forward and a cloak of heavy fatigue engulfed her - her eyelids dropping as a flash of red light hit the back of her eyes and invaded her lids. Hermione flinched at the sudden sensory overload as she felt the invasion of something foreign. A flash of blackness and then suddenly, a whirlwind of images flooded her eyes and she found herself sifting through a haze. She concentrated harder, trying to make sense of the unfolding images until the fogginess cleared and she found herself starting at...herself.
She could see someone carrying her and whoever's point of view she was seeing it from was walking alongside - the light from the wand guiding them down the dark corridor. She was limp, unconscious, in the arms of...Blaise. Not only could she see the events of the night from Malfoy's perspective, she felt a wave of panic overcome her and ...fear. Were they his emotions?
The scene faded and she found herself in a bedroom – Malfoy's bedroom? Yes, it was Malfoy's bedroom. It was the night she had slept in his bed. She could see herself asleep. Malfoy was watching her sleep? A hand came out pulling a stand of her hair and watching it spring back as the urge to touch took over. He had fought it by getting up and taking a shower.
And then she saw herself staring back at Malfoy with a look she had never thought she could give anyone. It was one of utter...pleasure. He had her pushed against the wall in her bathroom – and she could feel the mixture of pleasure and triumph that had engulfed him – before the scene switched to him standing in front of her door as she slammed it in his face. He looked down at the book in his hands – she could now see that it was the one she had given to him – and could feel his anger at her abate as surprise and intrigue took over at what lay beneath the cover.
She was now sitting in a cold alcove in a silent corner of the castle reading the words from Nott's book through his eyes. '...blue blood is the essence to the rite of passage of the noble pureblood. You will yield to the right when you are granted permission by the living elder of you blood line.'
And then she was staring at herself again in her room. Compared to the image of herself looking back, she was much smaller and felt different...in physiology. As she looked about her room, she realised she could turn her head further than normal neck movement warranted. She could almost see the window behind her.
If this was his memory, then why was her memory self was looking back at Malfoy with open curiosity and concern – she never recalled looking at him like that! She watched her hand reach out. Hermione could feel the effect of her own touch as she was washed over with comforting warmth that challenged all sense of reality. It was unsettling, and as she glanced down at where her hand touched, through Malfoy's eyes she saw her hand ruffle ...feathers.
With a force like a blow to the stomach, Hermione was suddenly pushed back and out of the depths of Malfoy's memories into reality.
She blinked, dizziness overcoming her as she grabbed onto the bench to compose herself. She was frozen, muted by what she had seen through Malfoy's eyes. Her eyes widened with every fragment of memory as she processed what she had seen.
Slowly, Hermione turned to see Malfoy staring back at her with such intensity, she had to exhale. "You're an animagus," she barely whispered but he understood.
"You're my curse."
A/N: So, Malfoy's an animagus. Tell me if you saw that coming! Why is Hermione Malfoy's curse? Hint: words on tapestry and blank contract. More to come!