-------------------------------------------------THE FORBIDDEN FOREST----------------------------------------------------
"Good evening, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall intoned, after he had opened the door for her. She stepped in, and glanced around the Common Room. Draco closed the door behind him. "I trust that you've told her?" she asked him.
"Yes, she should be here any second now," Draco replied, glancing towards Granger's bedroom door. His body felt tight with exhaustion and wariness. He doubted himself, his feelings, and his relationship with Granger. It didn't feel normal, the incident that had just occurred between them. He reflected silently, as he observed the Professor taking a seat at their tiny breakfast table. If he had given Pansy a chance at a proper friendship, would this have occurred between them?
These days, when Draco had been a regular attendee for Quidditch practice, he and Blaise had become reasonably good friends, to a point where Blaise knew exactly when to stop pushing Draco. Yet, Draco and Blaise did not experience the kind of intensity Draco's body had zinged with just a few moments before due to Granger.
McGonagall had picked up a book that had been sitting on the table. Hogwarts: A History. She was leafing through it slowly, lingering on certain pages longer than others. Draco looked away, and stared at Granger's closed door.
What was happening to him? He understood that he was slowly returning to his former self, but the process was hard. On the way to 'recovery' was he supposed to go through self-realization? Was he supposed to become more aware of the things around him? Was he supposed to become more aware of the people around him, specifically one particular person?
Perhaps this was just the fairytale's effects taking place. Draco felt his headache grow as he focused on this particular concept. He didn't want to bring it to Granger's attention, in case he scared her (though scaring her seemed virtually impossible) but he wondered why it was that the fairytale hadn't affected him yet. Not physically, but emotionally. In the book, Prince Charming fell in love at first sight with Snow White. But, in reality...
Draco had never been in love before. Not even with Astoria. So how would he know what it felt like? He was sick of the clichés that books adorned. He was interested in what the real thing felt like. He had never been around people who were in love; he had never met anybody who was in love. So how could true love exist? What the hell was true love? Was it just something that authors used to sell books?
Then, if this was the case, maybe that's why he hadn't felt anything remotely associated with love for Granger. The author of that Snow White book used the concept of love to sell the book.
How could he believe in love when he didn't even know how to recognize it?
So would everything in the fairytale occur in reality except the falling in love part? He held the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he thought. From what the books proclaimed, love couldn't be forced unto a person. So really, this love couldn't be forced on him and Granger.
Could it?
Merlin, how was he supposed to know! What could he do to prevent it from happening, if it did happen?
He closed his eyes, thinking of his options. He could ignore her, he supposed. Perhaps that will stop her from talking to him ... if she didn't talk to him, what of her could he love? He sighed. In the book, Prince Charming fell in love with a dead Snow White. Snow White couldn't even talk, yet he fell in love with her. Hence, verbal communication wasn't needed to fall in love.
Option one ruled out.
They could continue to be friends. He quite enjoyed having someone to talk to, even fight with, as long as it was on amicable terms. But what if he found something to love her for? Merlin, what if she found something to love him for? The latter was definitely more probable. He could not deal with someone being in love with him. That was too ... uncomfortable for him to handle.
Option two ruled out.
He could move in for the kill. Figuratively speaking, of course. He could just race in and see what happened. All of this was restricted to the story, right? So he could do whatever he wanted, and could easily blame it on the fairytale. She would understand. It had been ages since he'd last had proper fun with a girl. He wouldn't get emotionally attached, of course. That would be horrendous. And, besides, she didn't seem to mind his subtle flirtatious ways ... it would be easy.
But it would also be morally wrong. He couldn't do that to the person who had pulled him out from under the water. It would be despicable to treat her like that. His mother had taught him a thing or two, after all.
Option three ruled out.
He sighed. Where did this leave him?
He was about to walk over to the couch to sit. Granger was taking awfully long. But just as he moved his leg, her door opened, and he felt himself relax. She stepped out of her room with her huge trunk behind her. Draco stared at the trunk. What on earth could be in there?
"Professor!" she exclaimed, running forward, dragging the trunk behind her. "Sorry I'm so late," she said, panting slightly.
McGonagall closed the book, and stood up. "It's quite alright, Miss Granger," she said. She looked down at the trunk, and her eyes widened slightly. "Miss Granger, I thought Mr Malfoy explained to you what the plan was?"
Granger's eyes narrowed in confusion. She glanced quickly at Draco, and Draco shrugged. He had no idea what McGonagall was insinuating.
"He did, Professor," she said.
"Then why is it that you packed a whole trunk for just two days?" McGonagall asked, a frown pulling the corner of her mouth down.
Granger looked relieved. "I've just packed my books and homework and other necessary items, Professor," she said calmly.
Draco rolled his eyes. Just how many books had she packed?
McGonagall didn't react. "Very well," she said. "Let's go."
Granger hurried to the professor's side. She looked back at Draco who was staring intently at her, still thinking. She hesitantly lifted up a hand as a farewell gesture. At first, Draco didn't respond, and her small smile faltered. He cleared his thoughts and offered a smile.
She smiled back and turned to follow McGonagall out of the room.
A strange feeling settled over Draco, but then it passed as quickly as it had come. Funny, he thought, I almost followed her.
She could feel Professor McGonagall's gaze on her as she rushed down to Hagrid's hut. Hermione had magically levitated her trunk so that it followed her. The thing was too heavy for her to carry. She came to an abrupt stop outside Hagrid's cabin, and knocked twice on the door. She heard Fang barking. "Stop barkin', yeh stupid dog!" came Hagrid's booming voice from inside.
In the next moment, the door was pulled open, and Hermione looked up to see Hagrid's kind face. "So sorry to do this to you, Hagrid," she said, smiling.
"Wha'? Don' be ridiculous, Hermione! Yeh're welcome anytime!" Hagrid said loudly, pulling her in for a hug.
Hermione tried to return the hug, but her arms wouldn't fit properly around him. Additionally, Hagrid was suffocating her. "Hagrid!" she gasped. "Can't breathe!"
He released her immediately, and Hermione stumbled backwards. "Sorry abou' that," he said. "I jus' haven' seen yeh in ages, Hermione!"
Hermione smiled. "Sorry, Hagrid. I've been really busy with schoolwork...Do you mind if I come in?"
Hagrid retreated from his doorway, and said, "Sure, sure. Come on in."
Hermione went in, directing her trunk with her wand behind her. "Where is my...where am I going to be?" she asked, unsure. She looked around the one-room cabin. It still looked the same.
"Oh, yeah!" Hagrid exclaimed. He moved passed her, and threw open the backdoor. Hermione peered out the door, and was startled to see another small room, fully equipped with human necessities. She directed her trunk to land in the corner of the room, and turned around to face Hagrid. He was bending down, peering into the room. "Not too bad, eh?" he asked.
"Thank you so much!" Hermione exclaimed, and she hugged him again. Before Hagrid could get too much into the hug, she stepped away. She walked into the small room, and peered around curiously. There was another door, and she opened it to reveal a tiny bathroom. "This is all so...nice, Hagrid," she said warmly. She sat on the bed looking up at him.
"Professor McGonagall fixed it up for yeh," he said.
An idea occurred to Hermione. "Maybe we should call Harry and Ron down, too," she said thoughtfully, smiling.
Hagrid sighed. "Yeh jus' missed them, I'm afraid," he said.
Hermione frowned. "What? They were here?"
"Yeah, they pop by whenever they feel like it," he said. He straightened up, almost hitting his head on the door frame. "Aw well, I have to be goin' now."
Hermione looked at him curiously. "Where are you going?"
"Jus' inter the Forbidden Forest fer a while," he said.
Hermione stood up, grabbing her wand from the pedestal. "I'm coming," she said.
"No no, yeh'll be fine, righ' here," he said, frowning.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hagrid, I've been into the Forbidden Forest many times before."
Hagrid looked as if he was thinking. Finally, he sighed. "Fine, but Fang's comin'."
Hermione beamed and followed him out of the hut. Fang hurried ahead of them, sniffing the ground as he went. His tail wagged enthusiastically, and Hermione stared enviously. She wished she had that kind of energy. "Are you looking for anything specific?" she asked Hagrid.
Hagrid looked down at her. "Nah, not really. Jus' summat fer my fifth-years."
"Anything specific?" Hermione really wanted to help him. She felt bad for intruding.
Hagrid stroked his beard. "I'm goin' ter search fer some thestrals; bring 'em somewhere nearby – fer easier access, y'know?"
Hermione merely nodded. She didn't really like the thestrals. The last time she had come into contact with them was when she was a fifth-year. Then, she hadn't been able to see them. But since then, she had witnessed too many deaths, so she would definitely be able to see thestrals now. Seeing them would only confirm the fact that she had seen many die.
"Hagrid," she began hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
"Do you mind if I go my own way? Just wander around a bit?"
Hagrid looked down at her. "Hermione, the fores' can be a very dangerous place," he said, clearly worried.
"Hagrid, I'll be fine. I've got my wand," she smiled reassuringly. Besides, she wanted to have some time by herself.
Hagrid stopped walking, and he stared into the darkness of the forest, unsure.
"Please?" Hermione asked.
He sighed again. "Fine, but if yeh have any problems, send some red sparks up inter the sky, alrigh'?"
Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said.
"Yeah, yeah," he said gruffly. "Jus' don' tell Professor McGonagall."
Hermione hurried ahead of him, and entered the cool embrace of the Forbidden Forest. She had forgotten how eerie it looked at night, but she ignored the trickles of fear, and walked in bravely. She vaguely heard Hagrid in the distance, pushing the branches of trees aside, but after a few minutes, the sound of his and Fang's footsteps died, and Hermione was alone. She looked up at the small circle of sky that she could see. Stars littered the black sky, and a cool breeze gently pressed lightly against her. Hermione closed her eyes, as she welcomed it. When she opened her eyes, she began walking again, looking around her for small signs of life.
It all looked stunningly beautiful yet terrifying at the same time. She heard a crack, as if a stick had just been snapped.
She froze, and slowly turned around. Where had that sound come from? She had done a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn, but she hadn't seen anything. She resumed walking, this time shooting glances over her shoulder, alert.
She heard the sound again, and she stopped. "Who's there?" she called, raising her wand.
No response.
No response except for the sound of another stick cracking.
Hermione licked her lips, clutching her wand. "Hello?" she asked. Her voice stayed strong, yet she was beginning to feel thoroughly scared.
"A human?" a raspy voice asked.
Hermione whipped her head around, and she came face-to-face with a centaur. His coat was a pearly white, and his face gleamed in the moonlight. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin! I thought it was something much scarier," she said.
Something flickered in the centaur's ice-blue eyes, and he stepped forward. "You look familiar," he said.
Hermione tilted her head. This centaur was emanating negative vibes. She took a step backwards. "You might have seen me with another woman? Dolores Umbridge? From the Ministry?"
The centaur drew in a breath. "You're associated with her?" he asked in a low, scary voice.
"Not at all!" Hermione exclaimed. "We all hated her, in fact."
"So did we," the centaur said, and as he spoke a few other centaurs stepped out of the shadows. Hermione glanced around. She was out-numbered. "Why are you invading our territory, human?"
Hermione's eyes bulged. She gulped. "I – I didn't mean to. Look, I'll go, if you want," she said, her heart racing frantically. The thought of sending up red sparks occurred to her, but she didn't act on the thought. What if the centaurs attacked her?
The one who had spoken first stepped forward again. "That's exactly what we want," he whispered.
Hermione nodded. She glanced around her. Which way was the way out? Everywhere around her looked the same. She didn't dare ask the centaurs for their help. "Sorry for the disturbance," she said, and hastily retreated. They regarded her coolly. Only once she was far enough away from them, did she turn and run. She didn't know where she was going, but she still ran. She looked over her shoulder; they were still standing there. She swung her head forward and ran faster. After a few minutes, she looked back, and realized that they had long left. She came to an abrupt stop, and looked around her. Where on earth was she? On her adventures with Harry and Ron, they had never come this far into the forest.
After a while of more wandering around the forest, she spotted a clearing. She raced towards it, and if she wasn't in the given situation, she would have laughed. Because what she saw practically emphasized her stupidity. Of course! It was so obvious.
Safety.
Safety, because she knew exactly what was going to happen now.
She smiled, and walked towards the tiny cottage. In context, it was completely out of place lying in the Forbidden Forest, but it looked perfectly in place, where it sat.
Hermione timidly reached the footpath leading to the door, and she slowly made her way down it. She didn't stop to admire the small delicate flowers outlining the path. Instead, she focused on the door in front of her, and quickened her pace. When she reached the door, she looked up. The cottage looked frightening in the little moonlight that graced its walls, almost something out of a Muggle horror movie. But Hermione knew – she was fairly certain – that it was far from scary.
She knocked, yet there was no answer. Yes, that made sense.
She looked around her, making sure that no one – and nothing – was watching her. She took in a deep breath, and pushed the tiny door open. It didn't creak; it didn't even make a sound. She bent so that her head wouldn't hit the top of the doorframe. When she was through, she straightened up. Her head didn't touch the ceiling, yet if she lifted her hand up, it could have touched the ceiling without much effort.
The door shut softly behind her, and the small house was thrust into darkness. "Lumos," she whispered, and then there was light.
She held up her wand as she hesitantly made her way through the tiny house. It shouldn't have surprised her to see a small table laid with seven tiny plates, but it did surprise her. She laughed softly. This house was perfect for the seven dwarfs. Absolutely perfect.
Hermione knew what part came next: the reaction to her lethargy from walking about the forest, and then the beds.
She yawned, as if on cue. She walked to the only other door in the cottage, and pushed it. It opened, and she bent to go inside. It was the bedroom, with seven neatly made up beds. Hermione waved her wand, and the beds moved so that they were all right next to each other, with no spaces in between them. They formed one single bed big enough to accommodate Hermione. She moved the pillows about too.
Too tired, she lay down on the beds, and stared up at the ceiling. Who would've thought?
Her thoughts immediately went to Malfoy, and she wondered what he was doing now. Even though it was really late, she was certain that he wasn't asleep yet. She wondered what he was thinking of. Now that she had the time to think properly, she grazed the memory of them in the Common Room. It felt good talking to him like that. Comfortable. Normal. She closed her eyes, her thoughts continuing to swirl around him. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was a pair of silver eyes.
The seven of them trooped towards their newly acquired cottage. "Our second night of using this!" someone exclaimed. She had a wide, dreamy smile on her face and was skipping merrily down the footpath.
"Quite frankly, Lavender, I'd rather pluck my eyeballs out with a fork," grumbled a boy with flaming red hair. He stomped his way down the footpath right in front of the girl.
"Oh, Ron, you're such a – a – ACHOO –grouch," another boy said, holding his nose, sniffing.
"Bless you, Ernie," said another child, patting Ernie on his back. "But really, I don't think Ron can help it."
"Shut up,Dean," barked Ron, turning around. "I can help it."
Dean shrunk back from Ron, even though they were practically the same size. "There's no need to be so horribly mean, Ron," Dean said, pouting. "But don't worry, I forgive you."
"Ignore Ron, Dean. This is normal behaviour for him. Typical male behaviour. Especially when they haven't eaten," commented a bespectacled girl.
"Um, Lisa?" asked a timid-looking boy, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
"Yes, Jimmy?" Lisa asked, turning around.
"I was just...um... wondering, has that theory of yours been proven?" He had his hands clasped tightly behind his back, and was shifting forwards and backwards.
Lisa laughed. She pushed her glasses further up her nose. "In the Muggle world, yes. But of course, you do get exceptions to the theory. I'm glad to see you were listening, Jimmy."
Jimmy blushed. "Um, thank you?" He scratched his ear.
"Quit the chitchat. I really want to sleep now," muttered a girl, trying to stifle a yawn. She rubbed her eyes, stumbling slightly as she walked down the footpath.
"Watch where you're going, Greengrass!" warned Ernie, as the girl almost collided with him.
"Whose bright idea was it to come here, anyway?" Ron complained as they all congregated outside the cottage. He turned to face the group.
"Yours, brightspark," muttered Daphne Greengrass, this time, unable to stifle a yawn.
Ron narrowed his eyes. "Right, well that still doesn't explain why we're coming here at such a late hour. Now, whose idea was that?"
Ernie sneezed. "Still yours, mate," he said in a nasal voice.
"I don't remember you getting the character of 'Forgetful', Ron," Lisa remarked teasingly.
Ron was about to say something, when Lavender cut across him. "Look, everybody," she said, smiling at all of them. "Let's all be grateful that Ron came and told us why we're all stunted in height, and why some of the boys have begun to grow beards." She paused, allowing people to look around them. She laughed softly. "We won't complain, because that'll just make us unhappy and grouchy ... no offense, Ron," she added, patting him on the back. He shrugged, throwing her hand off his shoulder. "We've come here to sort out our problem, since we have no idea how long Hermione or Malfoy will take. Does everybody understand?" she looked around her, taking in each individual's expression. Daphne was slowly dozing off, her eyes fluttering shut.
A few nodded. "Great!" Lavender said, beaming, and she skipped forward again, and pushed the door open. They all followed her, and the only one who carried even an ounce of the enthusiasm Lavender had was Dean.
He looked up at Lavender, tugging on her arm. "I'd just like to say, Lavender, that I fully agree with you."
Lavender patted his head. "Thanks, Dean."
Dean looked at her, surprised. "Did you just pat my head?"
Lavender laughed. "Yes, I did. Sorry about that."
Dean shrugged, smiling. "No problem."
They all filed into the kitchen, sitting at their chairs. Daphne rested her head on her plate, and closed her eyes. Soon, her snores could be heard.
"Oh, bloody hell," commented Ron in disgust when he saw this. "Somebody wake her up, please."
"Let her be," Dean commented. "Who brought the food?" he asked once they had all settled down.
Ron sighed loudly. "I did," he said, dragging his words out. He took out a big bag, and reached inside to get something. His whole arm disappeared, and appeared a second later with a small transparent container full of food. He placed the bag on the table, and said, "Help yourselves."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "Be realistic, Ron. That would be instigating chaos. Allow me," she said, holding up her wand. She flicked it, and six similar containers to Ron's flew out, each depositing itself on a plate. Soon, everybody had a container. They all opened theirs, and dug into their food. All except Daphne, of course.
Jimmy gently shook her. "Um, Daphne," he began. Daphne didn't respond. "Ahem, Daphne, wake up." He gently tugged on her hair, which got her up immediately.
"Don't touch my hair," she complained, her voice laced with sleep and the desire for more.
"But you need to eat," Jimmy said, his eyes wide.
"Screw that," she said, slumping forward. Her head hit the plate with a dull clunk and she started snoring again.
"Ignore her, Jimmy," Lisa said after she swallowed a mouthful of food.
Jimmy sighed, and turned to eat his own food, only sometimes looking out of the corner of his eye to watch Daphne.
"So what's our plan of action?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food.
"That's disgusting, Ron," Dean chided good-naturedly. "It's better if you chew with your mouth closed."
Ron threw him a murderous glare.
"ACHOO!" sneezed Ernie. Bits of food flew out of his mouth, landing in Daphne's hair.
"Let me rephrase," said Dean in between guffaws. "That's disgusting." They all laughed even harder when Daphne didn't respond.
"Where's Colin's camera when you need it?" asked Lisa after everyone had quietened.
"I think that we should gather more information, Ron," Lavender said, answering his question.
"Wha-? Oh, yeah," he said. "Well, what more information do we need?"
"I dunno," Lavender said, placing her fork on her plate. "Perhaps we should talk to Hermione?"
A few of them nodded. "Mm, that would be a good idea," said Lisa. "One of us can ask her tomorrow. It would be pointless if all of us go. Imagine being bombarded by seven dwarfs," she mused.
Ron rolled his eyes. "But she knows us, Lisa."
"That doesn't change anything. Who will do it?"
Jimmy nervously put his hand up. "I don't mind doing it ... I mean," he looked around the table hesitantly, "...if nobody else wants to."
Lavender smiled. "No, you can do it, Jimmy. Just remember what she says."
Jimmy beamed.
By the time they had all finished their food, they were thoroughly exhausted.
"I'll clear up," volunteered Lavender. She waved her wand, and the left-over food on the plates flew to the bin, and deposited itself in it. With another flick of her wand, she sent the dirty crockery to the sink, and flicked the tap on, so that the plates could wash themselves.
Ron was the first to open the door to their bedroom. "Gah!" he yelled, staring inside.
"What is it?" Dean asked from behind him.
Ron turned to face him. Then he looked at all the other dwarfs. "We should've expected this, actually." He pushed the door further, so that it opened completely.
A few of them gasped. "Hermione!" beamed Lavender.
"But, of course," whispered Lisa to herself.
"What should we – ACHOO – do?" asked Ernie, craning his neck to get a better look of the sleeping girl.
"Let her sleep," Ron said quietly, glaring at Ernie. "But if you carry on sneezing like that, we might have to rule that option out."
Ernie pinched his nose. "I can't help it."
"Try," Ron said, narrowing his eyes. "I suggest we all sleep here. Some of us on couches, some of us on the floor. Let her sleep." He repeated. He glanced over at the kitchen table. "And leave Greengrass there."
They all agreed with Ron, yet Jimmy looked sadly at Daphne's sleeping body.
--------------------------------------------------------to be continued--------------------------------------------------------
A/N:
The 7 Dwarfs:
Grumpy = Ron
Dopey = Dean Thomas
Doc = Lisa Turpin (same year as Harry; in Ravenclaw)
Happy = Lavender Brown
Bashful = Jimmy Peakes (3 years younger than Harry; Gryffindor)
Sneezy = Ernie Macmillan (Hufflepuff)
Sleepy = Daphne Greengrass (same year as Harry; Slytherin)
I don't think Lisa Turpin wears glasses, but for the sake of her character (Doc) I made her wear glasses
That was a rather light-hearted chapter . Hope you all liked it! It was rather fun to write, actually.
Thanks to everybody who has been reviewing! You guys rock my world.
Please review ... it'll make me happy ...