Hello! Here's another installment! I hope you enjoy where I'm taking this story. It looks like the entire fic will be roughly 14 chapters (it was looking to be 12 originally). My update schedule has been weekly HOWEVER I'll be out of town so the next chapter will be posted in a couple of weeks. Anyway, my apologies for any mistakes :)
Monday morning came with the post. Hermione was expecting a package of Jumping Ginger. Instead, she got a letter from Ron.
H
A parcel will arrive in your
dorm room after your classes are done.
You should have what you need.
Be careful and let me know
if you need anything else.
R
p.s. Malfoy's a dead man if
he buggers this up.
It was smart of Ron to do it this way. A wriggling package full of Jumping Ginger would definitely attract attention.
Tonight, she and Draco would be testing the Jumping Ginger. The full moon was only a two days after that. She was anxious to get started and when she locked eyes with Draco in the Great Hall that morning, she could tell he was too.
The school day passed like cold molasses. She couldn't remember wanting a school day to end so badly. Once her last class was done, she raced up to her dorm room and planted herself next to the window. She didn't have to wait long. From a distance, she recognized Ron's large barn owl, heaving a lumpy package her way. She swung the window open, making room for his owl. It landed clumsily on her bed with a soft thump. And it was no wonder, the package was much larger than she anticipated.
Already, her dorm room was filling with the sharp, unmistakable smell of ginger. After giving the owl some water and a treat, she peeled back the brown parchment to reveal two paper sacks. One of the bags writhed like some kind of weird nightmare and Hermione peeked inside, smiling when she saw the wriggling Jumping Ginger.
When she placed the second bag next to the Jumping Ginger, a small note fell onto her bed. She laughed when she recognized the handwriting.
Hermione,
Ron explained the situation to me.
I hope this helps you.
Also, I will curse Malfoy into
the oblivion if he hurts you.
Stay safe.
Love,
Harry
She wasn't surprised when she spilled the contents out onto her bed but she gasped anyway. There, shimmering like watery silk, was Harry's invisibility cloak.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"
Hermione looked up from her supper. Ginny was watching her closely. "No, we're just testing out the Jumping Ginger. Besides, the instructions of the incantation says it will only work with the curser and cursee."
Ginny snorted. "Only you would use the word cursee."
"It's a very cool word," Hermione said, haughtily.
"Oh, Merlin, you're now starting to sound like Malfoy," Ginny said. "Don't you need a look out? What if someone catches you in there?"
"No one will catch us," Hermione said. "And if they did, I already have a good excuse."
Ginny raised her eyebrows.
Hermione smiled at her, then heaved her giant copy of Hogwarts: A History onto the table and flipped through the pages. "There's a very interesting fact about the fourth floor rooms. You see, on page 472, it mentions—"
"Please, stop right there," Ginny said, holding up a hand. "I had double history today and if I hear one more fact, I will literally punch myself in the face."
"Fine," Hermione said, snapping the book shut. "But it's a believable reason. Besides, I'm sure Malfoy will have his own excuse."
"I can say without a shadow of a doubt, his excuse will be a hundred times better."
"Oh, ye of little faith," Hermione said, taking a delicate bite of kidney pie.
"No one will believe you anyway," Ginny said. "They'll think you're there to snog."
Hermione choked on her pie, which spiraled into a coughing fit. "Ginny, you-I..." She coughed some more, her cheeks hot.
"Oy, Neville," Ginny said. "Can you give Hermione a good thumping on the back? She's a mess."
Next to her, Neville obliged and Hermione could only glare at Ginny through watery eyes.
"You okay there, Hermione?" Neville asked.
"Thank you, Neville," she said, still glaring at Ginny as she grabbed her stuff. "You are a wonderful friend." She stood up. "I'm leaving."
Ginny grinned up at her. "I love you."
Hermione muttered an I love you back and headed toward the exit. Draco had met her at the door, his expression quizzical.
"You alright there, Granger? You looked like you were on the losing side of a kidney pie."
She sighed loudly. "I believe I've been mocked enough for today, Draco."
Draco followed her out into the corridor. "Oh, and who was doing the mocking?"
"Ginny." She glanced up at him. "She wanted to be our lookout."
"Well, she can't," Draco said. "The instructions clearly state we have to be alone during the incantation."
"Yes, I told her that. She was concerned we might get caught."
Draco made an amused sound. "Well, she doesn't have to be. I have the perfect excuse."
"Of course, you do. She just thought no one would believe—" Hermione stopped short, her cheeks growing warm again.
"Believe what?"
"Oh, nothing—it's not..." Abruptly, Hermione pulled out the paper sack with the Jumping Ginger from her bag. "Anyway, we finally have this."
Draco wrinkled his nose. "Is it just me, or is there something unsettling about a bag full of wriggling things?"
"No, it's definitely unsettling," Hermione said.
They made their way up to the fourth floor making idle chitchat. But the closer they got to the abandoned prefect room, the quieter Malfoy became. Hermione didn't blame him, she was getting anxious herself.
She just wanted this to work so she didn't have to think about her scar ever again!
The room was dustier than the last time they were there, if that was even possible. She cast a quick cleaning charm while Draco unrolled the incantation and instructions on the large table. She placed the Jumping Ginger on the corner of the table and set her bag on a chair then she carefully pulled out a wriggling stalk of ginger.
"Alright," she whispered to herself.
She placed the ginger one the table while Draco read over the incantation one more time. They both looked at each other for a long moment. Then, he turned his attention to the wriggling ginger, pointed his wand and began the incantation.
It was strange to finally hear the incantation spoken as it was intended. They had stared down at the strange words for so long, agonizing over them for weeks, and now, Draco was speaking them into the universe, bringing forth the power they held. His posture was straight and confident like his voice as he recited the incantation expertly.
Hermione watched him, mesmerized—watched him hold his wand steady. A tiny glow glimmered from the tip of his wand. She held her breath as her gaze slid down to the ginger. It looked the same—no explosion or combustion— and when nothing bad seemed to happen, she let out a breath of relief.
Then, the skin of the ginger started to smolder. A slow burn spread across the top half of the ginger, leaving steaming, black smudges in its wake.
She could only stare down at it as her stomach dropped. Draco let out a loud curse then whipped his wand and flung the burnt ginger across the room.
"What did we do wrong?" he shouted. "What?"
Hermione jerked, shocked by Draco's outburst and their failure. She took a shaky breath and walked over to the instructions, fingers skimming each line.
"What you said before, about the wand movements, you were right," she said.
He looked at her then and Hermione couldn't remember a time when he looked so furious.
He jabbed a finger at the instructions. "It doesn't bloody say anything specific about it though!"
She pulled out a sheet of parchment and quill from her bag and placed them on the table.
"Then we put together a list of wand movements and we record them as we go," she said. She sounded calm but her stomach was in jumbles.
"But that's, Merlin—how do we narrow that down?" he exclaimed. "That's countless variations!"
"It'll be okay, Draco," she said softly. "We'll figure it out together, alright."
Draco took a stilted breath and nodded slowly.
They had tried another two dozen times—all of those tries failing, leaving a smoking pile of Jumping Ginger in its wake. Hermione leaned against the wall, frustration burning behind her eyes. Draco was barely any better. His face had initially gone from red then to a sickly white.
They used half of the Jumping Ginger and they were no closer to finding the wand movements needed for the incantation.
"It's getting late," Hermione finally said. "We should get back to our common rooms. Tomorrow we can brainstorm and try again."
Draco sighed loudly, gathering all the parchment from the table.
"I'll send an owl to my mother," he said. "She may have some ideas."
"That's a good idea." Hermione tried for an encouraging smile. "I'll talk with Neville and Ginny too. They'll want to help."
They walked back down the corridor, quiet and dejected. When they reached the staircase leading to their common rooms, Draco said a quiet goodbye and descended down the stairs.
"Draco," she called.
He stopped, his back still to her.
"We'll figure it out," she said.
"Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly.
Hermione had returned to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny and Neville were waiting for her, their faces expectant. They only had to look at Hermione's expression to know something had gone very wrong. They spent the next hour in one of the tower's deserted corridors going over all of their notes.
"The answer is here, I'm sure of it," Hermione said.
Neville stared down at the notes in his hand. "If you run into the same issue tomorrow night then we'll go to the library. We'll check out every book on wand theory. We're bound to find something that will help."
Hermione nodded, holding back a sigh. "You were right about testing the incantation, Neville. Thank you."
Neville gave her a shrug. "I wish I wasn't."
Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed it. Hermione clung to it like a lifeline.
"We'll find the answer, Hermione" Ginny said. "With the combination of Neville and my own slightly higher-than-average intelligence and your giant brain along with Malfoy's cleverness, we'll get this all sorted."
Hermione smiled, her heart lifting a little. "Thanks, Ginny."
"Slightly higher-than-average..." Neville muttered to himself.
Hermione had a restless night. The few hours she slept, she had dreamt of Draco's distraught face as her arm burned under his wand.
She gave up on anymore sleep and got up before the sunrise. After a hot shower, she went down to the empty common room and stared down at all her notes and translations, willing for a solution to jump out at her.
They had one more night to test the incantation until the full moon. If they couldn't fix the wand issue, they would have to wait for the next full moon to attempt the cure. All was not lost—not even close—but the uncertainty was weighing heavily on her. She suspected it weighed even more heavily on Draco. Seeing him so angry was surprising. She had never seen him lose control like that.
It was fear—at least for her.
It whispered to her.
What if...What if you never figure it out.
She would be stuck with the scar forever and every time she was around Draco, she ran the high risk of her scar flaring up—not to mention, turning into a raging facsimile of Bellatrix. It would put a strain on their burgeoning friendship. It would only be natural for him to eventually drift away from her, to not want to be around—
Stop.
It wouldn't do to think like that, but it was impossible not to. The only solution was to keep moving forward. Only in action was she able to keep the worries at bay.
All morning, her thoughts wavered between doubt and determination. The rest of the day didn't fare much better. Draco was withdrawn and Hermione could hardly blame him. She felt the same too, after all. By the time supper rolled around, Hermione had barely said a handful of words to anyone that day. Ginny—bless her—knew she needed space.
After supper, she and Draco walked to the fourth floor in silence. As they entered the prefect room, they repeated the same steps they did the night before. Parchment was placed on the table along with the Jumping Ginger. Draco had pulled out his wand. Hermione had set her bag on a chair. But her heart...her heart was beating double time.
She had to close her eyes and clench her hands together to keep them from trembling.
"Hermione."
She opened her eyes and stared up at Draco's worried face.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
For his first, try, Draco started with a subtle wand movement. The ginger scalded instantly. The next three tries ended the same with Hermione dutifully recording each wand movement while blinking back tears.
By the fifth failed attempt, Draco had finally exploded. He threw a chair across the room, smashing it into pieces against the stone wall. Hermione could only watch as her mind spun, then, of course, because things weren't bad enough, her scar began to burn. Gasping, she reached for Draco. His hand found hers instantly and she was left panting with relief and disappointment.
She shuffled closer to him until she could grasp the front of his shirt. Then she buried her face in his collar—the crisp fabric of his shirt caught her tears, absorbing them away. He smelled warm and comforting and, in that moment, she felt relief. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her, his chest rising and falling in a lulling rhythm.
Touch. It was the one thing that soothed her—that took away the pain.
Hermione jerked back and blinked.
Draco's arms dropped as he murmured an apology. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have presumed—"
"No, it's not—it's okay," she stammered. She took a step back, her brain kicking into overtime. "It's...Merlin, could it be that simple?" she whispered.
Draco was watching her closely. "Hermione?"
"What if the word sweep wasn't referring to a wand movement," she said quickly. "What if it meant to brush—to touch. What if it meant your wand needed to actually touch."
Draco's eyes widened. "Yes."
She rushed over to the table, her gaze flying over the parchment.
"I think it might work," she said, pulling out stalk of ginger from the bag.
His hand was already outstretched and she set the wriggling ginger onto his open palm. Placing the tip of his wand against the ginger, he gave her one furtive glance and began the incantation. Hermione could barely breath as she watched.
His voice was soft but tense and when he was done, they both stared down at the ginger for several long moments. It had remained unchanged.
It had worked.
He let out a breath as he stared at her in wonder. "Brightest of witch of our age," he whispered, grinning at her.
She smiled back, her shoulders relaxing. They stood there, staring at each other until their smiles turned into soft laughter. She felt giddy, like her nerves were still on edge and hadn't dissipated yet.
Draco broke the tension first. "Thank Merlin, that worked," he said in a relieved hush.
His arms lifted and, for a moment, it looked like he might reach for her. Instead, he stepped away and ran a rough hand through his hair. "Now we can officially start the process tomorrow night," he said.
Hermione perked up. "Oh, yes, that reminds me." She rifled through her bag and pulled out an old, folded up piece of parchment.
"What's that?" Draco asked.
"This," she said, waving the parchment in his face, "is going to blow your mind."
He snorted, looking amused as she unfolded the parchment.
Drawing her wand, she tapped the parchment once and said the familiar words, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
As the Hogwarts' map materialized on the parchment, Draco's smile dropped from his face.
"What in Salazar's..." he stared down at it, his eyes darting to each little dot with its correlating name. "Is this..."
"It's called the Marauders Map, and yes, it's the entire school and everyone in it."
"How—"
She passed it to him and he held the map with reverent fingers.
"Midnight tomorrow, we'll be sneaking about the school and you're going to need that map more than I will," she said.
His eyes widened at that.
"I'm only lending it to you with the upmost confidence I will get it back," she said sternly. "Am I clear, Draco?"
"This is Potter's, isn't it?" he asked, his expression awestruck. "That's how he was able—how you were all able to sneak about." He swore softly. "The chaos this map could've caused. The secrets you could've unearthed—"
"Could you stop being a Slytherin for two seconds and listen to me?" she demanded. "You will use this map to avoid trouble for the next seven nights, not to cause trouble. Got it?"
"Oh, of course," he said, his expression immediately blank.
"Don't make me regret this, Draco."
"You have my word." He huffed a laugh. "I would only make this promise to you, you know. Not anyone else."
"How flattering. Truly," she said, unimpressed.
"It is, actually. Anyway, how will you get about?" he asked. "Aren't you worried about getting caught?"
"No, I'm not," she said. "Now, we need to plan for tomorrow night." She pointed at the map. "But first, I need to show you how that works."
Hermione had Draco practice activating and deactivating the Marauders Map a few times. After she was confident he understood how it worked, they planned the best way to move about the castle and to get down to the southern greenhouse.
Draco studied the map with unconcealed excitement.
"And you're saying there's a secret corridor to the greenhouse," he asked. "The map doesn't show that."
"It's because the map doesn't know about it," she said. "Or rather, the creators of the map didn't know about it. But Neville said Professor Sprout revealed it to him. I think she's hoping he'll replace her eventually."
"He would be a good choice," Draco said.
"Wow, now you're praising Neville Longbottom," she teased.
He rolled his eyes. "What? Longbottom's a good bloke."
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
"If you mean me not being an annoying, little git anymore as mighty, then yes."
"True, you're not little," she said, biting back a smile.
"You're hilarious," he deadpanned. "Oh, look..." He pointed at the map. "Theo and Susan Bones are in a 3rd floor's supply closet together."
"How scandalous," Hermione said with mock surprise. "I suppose that means he no longer likes me then?"
"Oh, no. He still likes you."
She scrunched up her nose. "Seriously?"
He smiled at her expression. "Yes. In fact, I think you might be his favorite crush out of the long list of girls he likes."
"Wow, how gross."
"What? Untrustworthy, flirty guys aren't your type?"
She made a face. "No."
"I don't blame you. Untrustworthy types aren't my thing either." He sighed dramatically. "Poor Theo, though. He'll be so sad."
"I'm sure Theo will find a way to navigate through his impending heartbreak," she said. "Anyway, I didn't eat much during supper and now I'm starving. You want to go sneak into the kitchens?"
His lips spread into a slow grin.
"Oh, Granger, I thought you would never ask."