Chapter Six: A Most Terrible Bad Idea
The cottage was fully immersed now.
Everything felt slow and sleepy. The Leyland realm she had sunk the house into was lazy with brushstrokes and winding nemoral vistas. The trees wandered aimlessly, lifting and sinking their roots in a ritualistic dance, celebrating the advent of Hermione's winter magic in their world.
Hermione always liked the third realm best. She was sure Monet had visited here at some point, or perhaps he only dreamed it. For it was very dreamlike, and reminiscent of that artist's work. The grenadine light touching upon everything with a whimsical reverence. All careful smiles and romantic sighs as the leaves and grass whispered lullabies in their twisting choreography.
The ice and rainbow creation on the lawn was alive with sparkling orbs, each a sprite that shifted glittering dust like low-lying fireworks. It all stirred in Hermione's magic and she felt the kind of boneless floating sensation one experiences with sensory deprivation. Doing this challenged her constitution but she'd gotten better over time. She'd be able to hold them in the Leylands for three hours or so, though she became less concise in her language here. Her brain warm like it was steeping in a melding tea.
Draco reclined in the bay window, unable to wrest his attention away from the Leyland realm outside.
"It's so… beautiful," he breathed, the words wisping together like strands of spidersilk. They echoed, bouncing off the walls to caress Hermione's skin again and again. He looked at her with turquoise gradated against his usual slate. The effect made him so very pretty it crushed her heart. He looked at her in much the same way. "Can we go out there?"
Hermione shook her head and it felt as if the entire cottage moved with her.
"A most terrible bad idea," the reverberation of her voice causing Draco to tremble a little. "The trees seem so languid and peaceful, but they are carnivorous. Though, you'd be happy as you died and turned to mulch. They make you want to be consumed."
He nodded, believing it.
"How?" Theo asked her. Veneration seeping out of him in shifting golds and pinks, his magic dancing to play with the air. His words resonated like Draco's had and tasted of ambrosia. Hermione loved the third realm, but she'd never been here with others. The effect was hedonistic and potent. She wasn't even sure if his mouth moved with his next sentence or if his brain projected it to live between them. "How are you doing this?"
She shrugged and the world turned. "Spectral cornucopias aligning in cataclysmic mysticism?"
He lifted the very corner of his mouth and the floorboards undulated in response to her flutter.
His gaze drew upwards to hers. And his eyes were green. So green. Greener than they'd ever been, and she couldn't even place what kind of green. It just was. The very essence of green. And they sparkled at her.
He knew her answer was nonsense. But he also knew it was true. Most of the Leylands responded best to honesty and utter ridiculous twaddle. The twaddlier the better.
He had found himself, once again, impressed. He could clearly bring himself to the Leylands, that was powerful. He was powerful. Even some of the best Spooks could only partially bring themselves over. Some could only meditate and send a mental image. It was unheard of to bring an entire house through the leylines. Let alone other people.
"And what do you gift these spectres for such a large passage?" he queried, referring to her answer.
It was an interesting question. The amorphous wisping beings came to collect what she owed in her dreams and taught her their magic, but she could still cast the spell in the realities as well. They'd come to her one night after she'd read a book that was blank. She'd found it in the Reliquary one day and though it had nothing in it, she'd sat down, and some mad compulsion had bade her read it. Four hours passed then Sansarra had come back and closed it, pulling Hermione out from its spell. Motes of snow had sifted from her mentor with a generous smile and the frosted wind of her voice had told her to expect visitors in her sleep.
The beings had Named her. A haunting, ethereal name that Hermione was sure held tethers she'd not figured out yet.
"Have you ever heard of the Fairnight Daughters?" He'd surprised her so often with what he knew but this time he shook his head. Draco was looking at her now as well, but the majesty of the landscape kept pulling his attention away. She'd been much the same the first time she came here. "The Fairnight Daughters live in the darkness between stars and hold the universes together. Older than Time herself. Older than heathen Light. They came to my dreams and called me Zeri Shuthina Lasa Pulum and taught me how to astral travel. Time and I struck an accord and she allows me to give them dollops of her magic."
Draco laughed, it was small and refined, a puttering of sound that skated on the air. "You cheating on me, O Gravegift Bride to the Stars?"
She smiled at his translation; she had no idea why the beings used Etruscan, but he was right in her Name. She slid a hand into his hair and was astonished to find it felt like down feathers here, silky and tufted. He shivered at the sensation. "Don't worry, I told them I'm yours."
Theo watched the action with a touch of yearning before blinking it away. "How do you create a dollop of Time?"
Hermione raised a hand to where the Time-Turner was hidden. It was an hourglass like the one she had in third-year but it spilled dimensional space rather than sand. She concentrated to separate a precise measurement in her mind. "Alpan Azaru Eshvita," she recited, and a bubble was drawn from the depths of the Galleon. It hovered before her and she floated it over to Theo.
It whorled in forbidden colours, a reddish-green and bluish-yellow that appeared impossible to the opponent channels of their retinas and yet was some wholly undefined new set of colour that made Theo inhale in wonderment.
"What is it?" he imbued the room with a cynosure, lifting a hand to caress the air around the object.
Draco was watching it, too. It was hard to look away, the experience akin to discovering purple for the first time.
"It's four seconds," she had barely released the words before Theo had understood them and popped the bubble. A new memory swam to the forefront of her mind.
The jug was demanding her attention now and she moved past him, her cardigan getting caught between Nott and the back of the chair as he relaxed. She trickled her fingers above his shoulder to sprinkle a small tingling sensation, startling him forward a touch to extricate herself. She made to move forward but was startled when Nott's hand shot out to grasp her own.
The jarring sound of a jangling tick resounded. She felt shivering heat flash up her arm. His eyes met hers and a prickling stole across her like a summer wind, emerald deciduous leaves petalling through her dermis layers to live with her nerves and veins.
An austere tock echoed, and she trembled as his index finger slowly dragged over the pulse point of her wrist. A wash of arousal flushed upwards and landed in her throat, holding at the hollow of her collarbone, bobbing and rolling with a simultaneous clenching at her core.
A second tick and he smiled at her. He was so pleased with himself. Pleased to be there. Pleased to be with her. He had such beautiful, full lips and his teeth... Oh gods, his stunning white, even teeth. She wanted to run her tongue over them.
A loud, banging tock. She felt his air move, felt the thunder of it in his lungs pushing up through his vocal cords and out of his mouth, "Hi."
It was so simple, so everyday. But with his smile, his eyes, his touch… it had built up too high, wavering and warbling and she gasped.
Then everything in her collapsed.
Hermione came back to the present with a jolt. It had changed. It had all changed. The memories beyond that one in her kitchen were all more. It wasn't just the erotic heat that worked itself through her. Her heart. Her heart now beat through all of them, erratically, rattlingly, frantically.
She looked at him and tears pricked her eyes, a tightness in her throat as her heart near beat itself out of her chest. Making itself known in her blood and thumping in her ears.
She shook, distraught. He'd changed it and now it wasn't just a crush or an attraction. She was half in love with him. From one touch. And now she'd have to wait an entire year to feel him again. He'd still chosen Touch to give up, the reason now solely to create a barrier between them for Draco's sake rather than because he hadn't experienced it.
She blinked and tears collected on her lashes, falling softly to the ground, plinking lyrically as they transformed into more lachrymiforms as they passed through Theo's magic which was still wafting through the room.
"What did you do? W-What have you done to me?" Hermione sent the accusation across the space. And he refused to look at her, perhaps he'd had a fundamental shift, too.
"Miny, are you OK?" Draco reached out but she instinctively moved away.
"No," she breathed, her eyes widening in shock. She couldn't believe she had just done that. She felt panic rising in her again and the house's walls expanded and contracted with creaking screams in response.
Draco pulled her close so she could bury her face in his shoulder and she breathed him in. Blackened agarwood. Musked tuberose. Sea breeze salt. Just like always. She started to calm.
She'd been terrified the ratcheting of her feelings for Theo would mean a rejection of those for Draco, but they were still there. Thankfully shuttering her eyes, she inhaled him. That calming stillness he had held her while her anxiety receded. She pulled back a little. She needed to make sure.
He was looking at her confused and concerned, unsure what had occurred. She swallowed. "Um, I'm sorry, but-" and she cut off her awkwardness with a kiss. He reciprocated immediately despite this being a breach of their rules since they were in private and it wasn't technically necessary. He sensed she needed this. And she did.
But it was all still there. Her music still sang for him, it was a little fainter but not the discordant, tripping mess she remembered from the end of her relationship with Ron.
The air of the Leylands made the way his lips slipped against hers feel like velvet and his fingers at the nape of her neck were satin. She could sense the air blooming around them, flowers unfurling in her hair and petals falling over them in a shower. A tug of sensual intrigue pulled at her as she contemplated what more intimate acts would feel like in this realm.
It wasn't an aphrodisiac exactly. Nor was it any kind of throbbing, clenching, rushing heat. It was… romantic didn't seem right either but it was close. It was that buoyant tension in the moment before a wistful sigh when their tongues touched. The almost sickening, nervous jumping energy experienced when catching the eyes of someone attractive across a crowded room as his thumb stroked down the curve of her neck. It was the thrilling tingle of an accidental touch while his eyelashes fluttered on her cheek. It was the feeling of being so acutely, ineffably alive. It was lips of velvet and fingers of satin. It was silken petals and cotton fluff blooms. And it was glorious.
Then she felt a bashful nudge at her ankle, and she pulled away giving Draco's back a quick squeeze in thanks where she held him, swimming dizzingly out of his embrace. She looked down and burst out a surprised giggle. Theo had taken his slippers off and in the magic of the realm they had gained a tail and inquisitive looking ears, a snuffling wet black nose experimenting with the wool of her hosiery.
"Oh hey, little buddies!" Hermione leant down and one immediately leapt into her lap, the other crouched and wiggled around Draco's own versions, wondering why they weren't playing. He bent to pick it up, too.
"Puppies!" he exclaimed with excitement. "Look at their wee ears," and Hermione stood so they could admire the transformation.
Draco grinned, the lingering effects of their kiss here dazing him and so his usual reservation was hidden somewhere else. He scratched behind the slipper's ear and it leant into his touch. Draco looked at her.
"Hey, sometime when we're alone, can we go to bed here?" he said it in a low tone so it wouldn't carry.
She nodded and he grinned mischievously at her.
As Hermione got hit in the face with a fluffy caramel and cream tail, she glanced over to Theo. More flowers bloomed in her hair. The third realm, for all its beauty, appeared to have no subtlety.
He looked nervous. Or as nervous as someone like him could be. He was leaning against the opposite wall watching them with one hand in his pocket, the other dragging his thumb over the corner of his mouth.
She still wasn't ready for the effect of him on her person now and she flinched as a strumming flourish of different tempos thrummed in her. Oxytocin, adrenaline, norepinephrine, dopamine. Her reaction had high doses of chemicals that flooded her systems in a way that was almost overwhelming. Her thighs quaked and embarrassingly the pulse jettisoned through the room, the blowback lifting her hair and ruffling Draco's clothing.
He looked at her in surprise, still playing with the slipper-puppy. He chuckled and turned to Theo. "Mate, you're fucking everything up. Our lives were sedate and easy before you came along," he shook his head with a wry quirk on his face. "What did you do with that bubble?"
Theo swallowed. "I went back and touched her. I-" for once he seemed unsure of himself, "I wanted to know what it would be like. I thought if it was just your hand it would be relatively safe. But it wasn't. It was a fun kind of temptation before. Now it just hurts," he curled his shoulders a little as if curving in on himself would assuage the ache.
Draco gave Theo a playfully dirty look, petting his slipper. "Hm well, you probably deserve that. You clearly knew what you were doing and chose the moment you went back to." Draco shook his head. "Even if we didn't marry for love, it still means something to the both of us. What you've done is rather disrespectful. I forgot how much trouble you are, Theo."
Hermione decided she'd had quite enough of the Leylands now. It was heightening everything making the conflicting emotions rub together in pockets of static electricity.
She passed her still-wiggling sluppy to Draco and crossed to open the door and called to the Seelie sprites in their language, inviting them to join her project. About fifteen or so flitted in, curious about the material realm, excited by the prospect of witnessing more drama made by the humalings.
When the last one entered, she began lifting the house out of the third realm. Draco sat in the bay window again, looking disappointed that he had to leave. He set the slippers on the floor and they made their way back over to Theo, one looking back halfway through the journey, twitching an ear with a curious cocked tilt to it before bounding over to join its twin. Draco looked a little sad that they would revert back to ordinary slippers now. Well, as ordinary as these particular slippers got.
She moved to cradle her hands on his shoulder and lean her chin against them, watching their slow ascension. "I'll bring you back, this one's my favourite but I think you might like the sixth realm a lot as well. It's very you, all black and silver. You'll look like an angel of absolution or perdition there."
"What do I look like here?" his curiosity piqued.
"Elven royalty, of course," she supplied easily, tipping her head so it rested against his own. "I keep expecting you to trick me into giving you my first born."
He laughed. "What about Theo?" They both turned to regard the other man who blinked back assuredly.
"Oberon, meet Puck," Hermione gestured towards Theo. "He was successful in tricking me even if he regrets it now."
"I don't regret it," Theo announced quickly before settling into a smirk. "Does that mean I get your first born?"
"No," Hermione sighed, turning back to experience the receding of en plein air oil-slicked colours. Bleeding art back into the leyline being replaced with the sharp lines of the material world. Her control slipping back into focus and she was able to contain what Theo had unwittingly unleashed with his time travelling. "No, you stole something else entirely."
There was a companionable silence as Hermione's quiet tone had made it clear that no follow-up questions were to be made about her statement.
As they finished the transition back to the crisp mundanity of the material plane, Draco swivelled, dislodging Hermione from his shoulder but pulling her into his lap instead.
"Can you really not touch each other?" he asked the room, not really directing it at anywhere in particular. His head was tilted upwards seeing the last of the Seelie sprites become invisible again. "Also, why am I not hungry?"
"The air in the Leylands is enough to sustain us, but some creatures will take that away so they can offer you food or drink. Of course, you must never accept, even if you feel like you're dying. If you'd like to experiment with your first question, go ahead," Hermione held out a hand.
Draco nodded at her explanation, leading her to where Theo was resettled in the armchair he had previously occupied.
Draco tried to force her hand upon Theo's shoulder. However, about two inches before being able to touch him, that same-polarity magnetic force Hermione had felt metaphorically earlier, made her glance off.
Theo jolted violently, he looked at her and Hermione was glad they weren't still in the Leylands for how loudly a cymbal crashed in her chest. He seemed surprised that she wasn't having the same reaction.
Theo flinched again as Draco picked up her hand and kind of aimlessly threw it against the barrier, watching it bounce off uselessly. He took it up again and attempted to apply his not-inconsiderable strength to force it upon his friend, but his bicep and shoulder started shaking and no further progress beyond the two inches could be made.
Theo was shifting uncomfortably in his chair, jaw clenched and eyes closed, "Please stop that."
Draco blinked in surprise, not having noticed how disturbed the other man was.
"You don't feel it?" her fellow Spook asked her, and Hermione shook her head. She felt the odd tensile pressure, but nothing beyond that.
Theo looked down at the lachrymiform he was still grasping in his hand, "Well, I felt," he said in a tone that harboured an edging intrigue. "I think it's probably because of this."
Hermione looked to the pile she had cried out earlier. She scooped them off the floor. "Oh!" she exclaimed. As soon as she'd touched them there was a burst of emotion, usually so caged and tight.
And she fell, enraptured by the sky.