Chapter Thirty-One - The Dragon Wakes

The Invisibility Cloak held a certain allure that could apparently only be enjoyed when one had the thing to oneself. To share with even one other person meant that someone else knew the secret at play. Hermione, as of late, had begun to understand what it was that kept Harry up some nights; kept him in corridors well after curfew, under the cover of complete obscurity.

In truth, Hermione may have formed her own addiction to that. Since Harry had given over the cloak's use, she'd become the phantom of Hogwarts, with a newly born need for absolute anonymity. For Harry, she could imagine the contentment came from the ability to walk past someone without having their eyes turn to him.

For herself, it was perhaps - perhaps - that when people failed to notice her, there was now a good excuse for it.

The end goal of each night spent with the cloak was to nip into the infirmary, but the process would begin quite before the hour when students were required to be within their commons.

Tonight, as part of this fledgling routine, Hermione took her sweet time on the path towards the ground floor. Once she reached it, she remained there, with a circuit through the entrance hall and down the long corridor which led to the infirmary. For a time she simply walked and allowed her thoughts to wander. Occasionally she'd stop at a window and take in the view of a perfectly still winter night, with dew frosted into perfect crystalline drops upon the shrubbery beyond.

Curfew came and went long before any impatience stirred.

By now, surely, any patients who lingered in the Hospital Wing had been attended. Poppy Pomfrey had likely administered her potions and retired to her quarters. And if anyone had been healthy enough to be awake in the first place, they were bound to be asleep now.

Still, just to be sure, Hermione took great care in how she opened the doors. Only a miniscule gap between them was sufficient to give a view inside, and the hinges didn't even creak. Disappointment was the only thing to be found, however.

Severus Snape stood just beyond Draco's curtained bed, in deep conversation with Madam Pomfrey.

Ideally, Hermione might have left the door open and tried to catch what she could of their talk, but the risk was too high. Professor Snape - a successful spy of over a decade - was not one with whom it was wise to trifle.

She let the door close gently and pottered languidly back down the corridor to perform another circuit. An hour, perhaps, had already passed since she slipped from the tower, and an early night seemed vital. But, sleep would evade her, if she didn't see Draco. The short experience of the past week had hammered that particular lesson home.

Though, typically she had more luck. Not only was Snape's presence an obstacle; he also proved to be even more observant than anticipated.

Hermione had made it no more than halfway down the corridor when the infirmary doors crashed open.

He strode precisely in her direction, and though he didn't seem able to see her, he called out, "I know you're there, Miss Granger."

He paused perhaps a metre from her, as his eyes danced throughout the empty, moonlit corridor.

She considered keeping quiet, but, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Another ten will be deducted each time you fail to comply. Show yourself."

With an involuntary sigh she pulled the cloak from her shoulders.

It was a bit mollifying, to see the surprised expression he wore when he discovered just how close he'd got; a few more steps and he'd have collided with her.

She kept contrition on her face. "I suppose there's no point in attempting to explain...?"

His eyes were fathomless. "By all means, Miss Granger, waste my time."

Was that sarcasm? She tried to work it out, and decided to answer just in case it hadn't been. Yet, just as she opened her mouth, he huffed in a show of put-upon displeasure and grasped her elbow.

"Come." He said, though he gave her little choice.

He led her not towards the marble staircase that would take them to McGonagall - but to the infirmary doors.

His legs were significantly longer, and his pace was aggressive. Before they'd even passed through the doors she began to entertain the idea of simply allowing him to lug her dead weight along.

They drew up to the bed however, and he stopped with an abrupt halt that left her a little dazed.

The room was otherwise empty; no other patients, no Pomfrey. The professor turned down to her, and lifted a careless brow as she massaged her aggravated elbow.

"Keep this quick, Miss Granger." He said.

"I don't understand."

In lieu of spoken reply, the professor swept aside the curtain and dealt a poke between her shoulders to urge her towards the bed.

With weak fingers, Draco uncorked a round-bottomed glass bottle of bright purple potion. No sooner than he poised the mouth of the bottle against his lips, a quick exchange of words sounded beyond his bed. His hand stilled in place, and before he could identify the familiar voices, the curtain to his left was parted to admit Granger, who stumbled through.

As he made eye-contact with her, Severus leaned in to snatch the bottle from his grasp. He summoned the cork, replaced it, then tossed the potion to Draco's lap.

"Time enough for sleep later." He said. He looked to Hermione. "Quite quick, Miss Granger. I'll be just outside."

He left them alone now, and only once the doors shut behind him did Granger at last turn to face him. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, and the tip of her nose had gone red.

"Hello." She said, and he inclined his head with more calm than he currently felt.

"Why did Snape bring you?"

"I have no clue."

"Does he want you to talk to me?"

"Well, he's not very fond of me, so I'm sure he's got more motivations for this little scene than doing me a favour."

Was it a favour for Draco, then? Or was this intended as a jab in the professor's desired direction?

"I can leave, if you want, Draco." Granger clasped her hands together in front of her. A silvery garment glimmered in the candlelight as it was draped over her arm.

"Wait - what?" He tried to sit up, and failed.

His brain seemed entirely disconnected from his limbs, and control of his mouth held on only by the finest of hairs.

Hermione twitched in place, as though she'd stopped herself from moving.

"I understand if you're angry with me, and you don't seem to have been awake for very long. We don't have to do this now."

"Oh, I'm furious, Granger." He said. "But I don't see why I should mind that you're here."

"If I hadn't followed you into the lavatory, Harry wouldn't have found you on his own. I could have stopped him attacking you, but I hesitated, and allowed myself to be disarmed. I could have run to get help when I realised I couldn't stop either of you, and instead I watched."

Draco only looked at her. His mind contained plenty of counterpoints, yet he couldn't quite articulate them quickly enough for her.

She went on, with the manner of one who expected a detention sentence to cut them off at any moment. "I had no idea Harry would use Dark Magic. Last time he attacked you he considered his best course of action to be the Pumpkin-Head Jinx. I felt as though I'd have been abandoning you both if I'd left. Chalk it up to my all-consuming need for control - I convinced myself it was better that I be there in case of emergency, and when the emergency came, I was wholly unequipped to handle -"

"Granger, what happened is already over and done with. It probably would have still turned out the same way while you were on the hunt for a professor. I'd still be right here, in this bed." He said. "I don't want to debate your share of the blame. As far as I'm concerned, you have none."

"Just tell me you forgive me."

"Sure, Granger. I forgive you."

She sighed - visibily deflated, until she sagged onto the bed next to him.

"I'd make room for you, but I'm hopeless at the whole movement thing, for now." She looked at him with doubt. "Well if you don't believe me, you're either going to have to deal with it or shove me over."

She took his hand. "I'll deal with it."

She placed both their hands in her lap, over the silvery garment, softer than silk.

"You've been out for a week now, you know. Seeing you awake... I hope you never know this kind of relief." She smiled a bit.

"Yes, well, Snape tells me you're the reason I've been able to recover at all." Draco said. "We're officially even now. You can stop with that nonsense about life-debts."

"I don't think this makes us even." She said, softly. "Harry would never have found you -"

"You're not his carer, Granger. Nor are you mine. Potter and I alone are responsible for what happened." He said firmly. "I didn't want you to get involved. I don't want people fighting my battles for me, anymore."

"Draco -"

"No, enough. Enough of that. It wasn't your fault." He shook his head - more to test the ability of his neck than from any real vexation. "I'd rather never bring it up again. I'd rather forget it ever happened."

"But you said you were furious."

"Furious with Scar-Head, yes, but I'll take that up with him." Upon Granger's immediate alarm, he added, "I don't plan to start another duel. But I will see to it that Potter doesn't get off with another fond telling-off from Dumbledore."

"I'm not taking his side, but I do want to make sure you know..." She trailed off, and even as Draco prodded her on she kept silent, except to repeat, "I'm not taking his side."

"I know."

And this was true. He could still hear the terrific rage in her scream once she realised she couldn't heal him.

What have you done, Harry!?

He shuddered at the mere recollection, and Granger noticed. "Are you cold?"

He shook his head again even as she extracted her wand from her sleeve and cast a Warming Charm.

"What were you going to say?" He pressed.

"I just think you should know that Harry was completely unaware of what that curse would do to you. He's an idiot, and yes, he deserves severe punishment, but I don't want you to believe Harry wants you dead."

"Potter's sentiments are none of my concern, Hermione." He said. "I only want him hung by his toes every night for the next month - and I'll see it done, this time round."

"Right." She nodded and turned a bit more towards him.

Her knee slid up to rest upon the mattress, and pressed against his side. She glanced down at where they met, and back to him with a question in her eyes. He pretended not to notice, and after a moment, she relaxed into the position, and he released a breath.

"But we need to talk about where we go from here, Draco."

"Someone could overhear."

Straight away, Granger cast a nonverbal spell - which might have been impressive if it didn't hint that she'd practiced without him.

"Now they can't." She said simply.

"I don't know what you want from me, Granger."

"I want you to tell me how you've decided to cover for the warning you gave me. I want to help you pull it off. I don't care if it's illegal, I don't care if it's dangerous." She leant closer and gave in to a furtive tone. "I know you don't quite know this about me, but I have no qualms against a bit of rule-breaking, when it's needed. I'm a lot more useful than I seem. I can help you ensure that no one else gets hurt."

"I... I can't tell you, Granger." He blinked against her instantaneous frustration. "I can't tell you."

"Then I'll just have to find out for myself, won't I?" She lifted her chin. "You know I can do it, Draco. There's nothing you can keep from me for very long."

"Those are the words of an insane person, Hermione."

"So be it."

He studied her.

Even before he'd been able to call Hermione an acquaintance, let alone a friend, he'd become well attuned to that expression of defiance she'd seemed to master by the end of first term. It was strange, how the look could be observed now with no aversion; that he found nothing repellant in her desire to barrel through his life and change things as she saw fit.

Then, as he once more took too long to answer, she leaned over him; and scooted closer until he could feel her thigh pressed against him.

She brought his hand up, still clasped between her own. "Trust me."

His pulse had quickened into a pleasant staccato - until she moved her fingers to his wrist - to the cuff of his pyjama sleeve. Now it was a foxtrot of panic.

Her eyes flickered up to his.

"Trust me." She whispered this time, and he could see her chest heave - just barely - with deep breaths.

Draco attempted to snatch his hand away the moment she attempted to fold the cuff back, but she held on. "I already know what I'll see. Just show me."

"No, Granger." His voice was hoarse, but he meant it deeply.

Still, as she loosed her grip and renewed her attempt, he felt powerless to stop her. He watched along with her as she folded backwards again, then a third time. His bated breath hitched as Granger's hitched: as the first peek of impossibly black ink was revealed upon otherwise pristine skin.

He could not look her in the eye as she finished the task. He couldn't even look at his own arm, anymore. He clenched his eyes shut, flinched as her cool fingertips traced along the edges of that permanent declaration of ignominy.

"I used to think my father's was cool. I thought it made him a man amongst men." His thoughts escaped his throat without so much as a beg-pardon. "I admired it. I wanted one, too. I knew I would have it, someday."

"Tell me what you did after you left Ryde." Granger's voice came too gently. There was a growing desire for her to lash out, for her to call him names and proclaim their arrangement over.

"You said you already knew what you would see. Tell me, Granger," He opened his eyes and forced himself to meet hers. "Were you as prepared as you thought you'd be, this time? Or has it simply failed to sink in, yet?"

She regarded him openly. Her face was almost placid, but it had to be an act. How foolish he would be, to believe her. More than likely, she'd leave here tonight and tell Dumbledore and Potter and all the rest everything he said. Every moment he spent with the girl his mother tried to have murdered, was a fresh condemnation of Narcissa Malfoy.

"I'm prepared as I can be, when I have no information." She said. "I want to trust you as much as I did when we left my house. I want to believe that you don't deserve to be judged for this Mark, Draco. With all my heart, I want to believe you care about Katie Bell, and - perhaps... me."

She inhaled a long breath, and he realised only now that she hadn't stopped tracing her fingers along his forearm. "I can't have blind faith anymore. This war is far more important than my personal hopes. You must tell me what's going to happen. You have to work with me. You have to give me your trust, as I have given you mine."

"What will happen once you know?"

"I can't answer that, at least not to any satisfaction. I suppose I'll go ahead and warn you that any plan we can hatch to help you through this will probably involve Harry and Ron."

"Potter is the last person on this planet I would place in faith, Granger."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." She waved him off. "Tell me what you did to cover for yourself."

"First..." He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Understand that it's only a stall. I had to come up with something that would excuse my sudden disappearance from home, so I was forced to act immediately."

"Reckoned as much." She inclined her head. "Go on."

"I bought poison in Knockturn Alley. I slipped it into a bottle of mead Slughorn ordered from The Three Broomsticks, which was requested to be tagged as a gift for the Headmaster."

Granger's sole reaction was to stare intently at his chest, and the cogs were nearly visible as they turned behind her eyes.

"Katie was put under the Imperius in The Three Broomsticks. So - Rosmerta has the twin to your coin?" She looked at him again as he nodded.

"But, you said you don't plan for anyone to get hurt. Then, you must not intend for Slughorn to deliver the mead to Dumbledore?" Now he once again shook his head. "Explain, please. I'm lost, Draco."

"I find it unlikely that any decadent gift purchased by Slughorn will easily make it to the intended recipient." Caustic wit was the default balm to the quake of nerves. "I thought I'd convince him, somehow, to share a drink with me. When I fell under the effects of the poison, he could cure me."

"Well, if blowing your cover is the goal, you're well on your way!" Granger cried. "The others will know it's only procrastination if you deliberately sabotage your own plan, Draco. What are you thinking?"

"The original idea was to compel someone else to do it for me, with the Imperious Curse." He could not but be sullen, in the face of her evident disappointment. "I've had a number of half-baked plans to buy time in the back of my mind since I was given this task. But I can't very well have another situation like what happened with Bell. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, whomever drinks the poison could die."

"You could die, then!" She said. "You didn't think this through at all, did you?"

"One doesn't always have the most efficient means of prolonging imminent exposure, Granger." He said. "I planted a seed that should still take a number of weeks to grow. By that time, I knew I could come up with something better - or something to cover the blunder -"

"A cover for your cover, Draco?" She said, and he clamped his lips shut. "Please, tell me you're open to suggestions."

He blew out a sigh. "Wouldn't dream of stopping you, Granger."

"We'll ask Ron." She spoke immediately. "I don't know if he'll do it, but he would make a perfect cover. We have something we need from Slughorn, too. So, you, Harry, and Ron will do this together."

"You'll never catch me alone in the same room with Potter again." He said. "You should know better than that."

"What I know is that Harry owes you a life-debt, now, too. Between all of us, we have a full day's liquid luck at our disposal. If you start trusting the right people, Draco, you will find that your situation is not as hopeless as you believe."

"You want me to trust the bloke that nearly murdered me from a toilet cubicle?"

"I want you to trust me." She leant in again - proved that even at the most turbulent times this particular witch could divert all thought with a single action. "I will do everything I can to help you, in a way that doesn't jeapordise your mother. Harry will do whatever he can to ease his conscience - you know he will. That's partly what makes you hate him, no? We can change things, together."

"Potter aside, I can hardly imagine Weasley would sign up for any heroic work for my benefit." Draco muttered, but Granger had an answer for this as well.

"We'll make sure we have a way to cure him. You let me worry about that."

"I've not agreed to anything."

"But you'll consider it?"

"I... I will think about it."

"Thank you," She sighed, as though she'd already won.

And perhaps she had. All he had eyes for, at that time, was the knot of their hands.

"Granger..." He began, and already small beads of sweat started at his forehead. "Before you go, tell me why you were so upset."

"Sorry?"

"When I was cursed..." He cleared his throat again. "Why did it upset you so much? Why do you care, so much?"

Her blink stuttered, but the faint pink stain upon her cheeks was unmistakable. He just didn't know what it meant.

"Stupid question." She said.

"All the same, I'm asking." Almost by reflex he caught her hand with the one left free to him. Granger's eyes darted to where they were joined.

"I care about you, because you deserve for someone to care." She said - and was it a trick of the ear that the words sounded rehearsed to death?

"And is that it?"

"I-"

The doors at the end of the room opened gently. Over Granger's shoulder, Severus was seen as he stalked towards them.

"Go on," Draco said.

But she'd turned her face to watch the professor's approach, and in another moment the man was already upon them.

"Goodnight, Draco." She murmured, as she slipped from his grasp with an ease that almost... smarted.

"I believe I was clear when I demanded that you be quick." Severus intoned quietly, as he loomed over her. "Colour me surprised to find that you, Miss Granger, are woefully impolite."

The hour of midnight approached as Professor Snape marched Hermione back to Gryffindor Tower, not a word exchanged between them (as per tradition).

Until, that is, they drew closer to the Fat Lady, and Hermione suddenly stopped. He continued without her for a number of steps until he realised she no longer followed. When he turned to her, his features were taut.

"I wanted a word, Professor," She said. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"You are never not troublesome, Miss Granger." He said at once. "But speak your piece - and be efficient."

"I'd like to meet with you in your study, at some point tomorrow. Whichever time would be best."

"I have office hours for this very reason."

"I've come to your office during those hours, sir." She allowed herself a small smile. "It's my experience that you're conveniently deaf to my particular knock."

For the second time that night, the professor gave an unabashed roll of his eyes. He beckoned her towards the Fat Lady.

"Very well. Come tomorrow during lunch." The beckon approached hysterical territories. "Off with you, troublesome girl."

Author's Note:

Hello my lovely little dumplings! I have not abandoned thee, nor shall I!

To make it quick - my fiance regularly uses my computer. He carried it off with him to the toilet while it was still open and SOMEHOW managed to catch the top corner of the screen between the gap of the door hinges at the frame, and absolutely decimated the screen with a crack.

I had to wait to get a new computer because most of my extra funds are funneled into fixing up my mum's house. And then, when I got it back, I had to catch myself up on an upcoming deadline for a project that's hopefully going to pay the bills next year. THEN I had to rewrite this chapter and I took a few days to rewrite an abridged version of the outline (the gorgeous, fleshed-out plan that I had on my previous computer) just so I don't get antsy about direction. I tried to post a review in my own section to let those of you know how royally fucked I'd become, but I sincerely doubt anyone saw that.

But, wow you lot were so kind about it. I think I got one review that even bothered to mention the impromptu hiatus, and they were only understandably curious about why the new chapter was taking so long. I will get to replies after an edit of this chapter. Frankly my fingers are exhausted. I have learned a valuable lesson: though I hate everything about the cloud, I shall never again underestimate the necessity of it for times like this. Please, however, know that I appreciate the kindness, the support, even the alarm that I'd possibly been murdered (that concern was actually quite sweet haha).

This chapter is only average in length but shorter chapters does mean you get them faster, so, really, I'm doing you all a massive kindness (reading that with a joking tone, mind).