Chapter 9
Mythical Creatures
Hermione tossed out a note, unread, as she readied for patrol. It had been a great Sunday with her friends. She spent the rest of the afternoon with Harry and Ron, just as they used to always be. Her stomach hurt from all the laughing.
Draco sent her two notes that afternoon. She had avoided him all day. Neither note was opened. She didn't want the happy times with Harry to stop. It was a distant memory when she had a time with him that wasn't soured with depression or irritation or withdrawn silence. Draco's notes would have ruined it all.
Now the reality that their night would be spent together twisted her nerves into a bundled knot, eager to just suffer through the pain and be done with his company once and for all. He'd be angry enough to admit defeat.
Two braids rested at her shoulders, a dense pair of black leggings beneath her skirt and a pullover, and she was ready for her night in the cold castle. With him.
Given the chance to rebond with her best friends, Hermione discovered a deeper resolve to resist Draco Malfoy's attempts to force their acquaintance. He would see reason. Even if she was the one thrusting into down his throat. They could not continue. She was needed again, by her boys. There was no time for other time expenditures.
She nibbled at some biscuits, then vanquished their existence in the form of their little crumbly crumbs all over her lap.
Drogon helped himself to the other half on the table. The ginger snap was devoured in loud hacking bites. She rolled her eyes.
"If you'd ask, I'd break it up for you." She snickered as he continued to bite the biscuit to pieces. "One last pet, and I've got to go. Don't wait up."
His ears perked, so did his head.
It was something he'd done before. The night before. Just as she was getting ready to leave him the second time at Gryffindor Tower, he'd perked his head up, expecting something. She leaned down and gave him a little kiss.
A sudden purr erupted on her leg. His head snuggled against her shoulder. Little ears pushed flat against his skull as he begged for affection.
"Alright, alright. I've got to go," she giggled. "Don't want the tosspot getting angry."
She told her friends goodnight and climbed out the portrait hole onto the staircase. A night gust of cool air greeted her. The pullover did well to block out most of it, but still some slipped through the fibers.
She kicked herself for not packing her snowsuit. On patrol, it'd help greatly.
It was a gift from her parents for one of their holiday trips skiing in Switzerland. The entire thing was silvery and reflective in the brilliant white of mountain tops. Her parents almost adorned the puffy silver suites themselves to create a family of reflective marshmallows skiing down the slopes.
Most holidays were spent with the Weasley's now. And Harry.
The castle was quiet as she walked through the long stretching corridors. It seemed larger in the black. Noises echoed kilometers without interruption. A chill shook her limbs. A night alone within a castle such as this frightened groups of Muggles, in fear of spirits and demons, and part of Hermione's mind went straight for those ghosts stories that used to terrorize her dreams.
Now the true fear was of something else.
"So you are alive." A cold voice shot through the darkness. It rattled her nerves. "Funny. My requests went unanswered today. Care to explain? Pet."
He spat the nickname out his mouth in discernable disgust.
She was ready for his attacks. One breath was all she allowed before she replied, "No. Let's start at the owlery. Then work our way back."
"Is that your command, pet?"
He emerged from shadow of the corridor, ethereal in appearance and angelic in glow. As always. Frightening and beautiful. A deadly combination.
"Still on with that pet business?" Hermione pushed a distance between the emotions of seeing him after their fueled patrol the night before. His face brought back the memory of her first kiss. It turned her cheeks a cherry red. She was so sure of resisting him earlier, but now, she wasn't sure she could keep it up. "Thought you'd be tired of it by now."
She tossed a braid over her shoulder as she marched through the depths of Hogwarts in the direction of the isolated tower of the owlery. There was a rumbling growl behind her back.
"You'll do well to remember that a Slytherin's primary trait is ambitious. They never give up getting what they want." Draco suddenly appeared by her shoulder. "Have I gotten you yet?"
She retracted away.
"No. You'll never get me."
"Then I'll never stop."
"Fine," she spat. "But don't expect me to just bow down and allow you to treat me this way."
A hand clenched her bicep until sharp tears bubbled. "That is exactly what I expect. You'll do well to remember that a place on my good side is where you should strive to be. There are things coming. Things you can't even imagine."
Both breaths stopped.
"What things?"
"A pet mudblood sounds better than a departed one, don't you think?"
She gasped.
Draco strode away. His wand shined brightly down the corridor toward the edge of the castle that lingered near a dark stretch of lawn before the tower of the owlery. It was that confident swagger he radiated through every orifice that brought her to a rage to witness.
He'd threatened her, saved her life, insulted her, bought her gifts, kissed her, and threatened her again.
None of it made sense!
Hermione stormed after him, planted herself in front of him, and placed a palm against his chest as an impassable being in his path. "What the hell do you want from me? Are you doing this just for fun? Is it fun to torture me?"
His brow furrowed. "Do I appear to be having fun?"
"Well, no."
"Bravo. Finally! A statement worthy of the brightest witch of the age. Brilliant deduction. Are you an Auror?" He slipped past her block and continued into darkness.
Their footsteps echoed against cold stone. It reflected the frigid, empty isolation that was their, for lack of a better word, bond.
She followed, her own wand alight with blue shimmering clouds. It showed the exit. Beyond that stretched the haunted darkness of night in absence of a moon, a frightful trek in utter openness that seemed as vast as the world.
As they exited the protection of Hogwarts, a burst of their warm bubble brought forth a quiver. Blistering winds whipped down the grounds. Long shadows of distant light quaked. The edge of the Black Forest whispered, an applause of leaves rustling, as if thrilled for the descent of forceful weather. Breath, once out of their mouths, turned to smoky explosions. Their vision turned hazy in the cover of their own exhale.
Draco walked through pitch black with a moment's pause at every sound. His cation amused her. Hermione quickly passed him, unafraid to great whatever waited in the night, which was bound to be nothing too dangerous. They were on school grounds after all.
The Owlery. It was a place where all the owls lived, school and student together. It was a tower not unlike Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Tower back within the castle. After ascending a staircase, a single doorway was left for a human to enter. Few came to the Owlery. Most owls were summoned to and from the castle. Those who ventured close enough to the Owlery could guess why: owl dung. It was everywhere. It smelled. The stench of bird feces and regurgitation was unpleasant, a foul taint to the nose.
Hermione personally only came close enough to ensure her mail was not intervened with.
Up within the tower were rows and rows of nests for the birds to rest during their off time. Most were empty. Night was their prime time to hunt, as they were nocturnal creatures. Some chittered as they passed with their bright lights.
The departure was apparently welcome. Draco's steps were quicker than her own.
At the base of the staircase, he stopped completely.
"Scurgify."
She smirked. "Are you so sensitive that you can't take a bit of filth?"
He looked up, unamused. "Is that your muggle humor coming through?"
The wind lessened as they started their journey back to the cold depths of the castle, ones that she never thought she'd miss until a nightly patrol out to the owlery.
"Lumos maxima," she commanded her wand. It shined bright as a spotlight through unending black. "Your moods are fouler than Professor Snape's. What has gotten you so in a fluster this time? Taxes on a trust fund?"
"You, pet. As always you are the bane of my existence," he answered coolly.
She huffed, stepping harder through the grass. "That's not my fault, though, is it? You're the one whose insisted on this whole charade. Why. Why would you do this if you hated it so much?"
"Because." He snarled. Eyes turned a stormy grey as he beheld her.
"That's not an answer."
"Yes, it is."
She shook her head. "It is a conjunction that means the cause of something, which has to have two parts to even be correct. 'Because' is not an answer. It is a nothing."
They'd been walking through the open stretch of lawn, two blue lights in complete darkness in front of an ancient castle. Their voices, raising with each pass of conversation, drowned out the faraway call of an animal.
An animal focused entirely upon them.
It dove through the black air in silent flight as the two bickered back and forth.
"Why?" Hermione prodded. "Why. Why do this? Just tell me why."
"I thought it'd be different! I thought you'd be different."
The memory of their kiss ghosted her lips. Tingles throbbed through the bitten flesh.
At the start, he'd been so cruel, controlling, commanding. He was the same Malfoy. There was that devilish delight at the corners of his mouth when he did something awful.
There was that absence of such delights recently. A flurry of mixed emotions took its place. He was kind, yet irrigatable. Demanding, but not vengeful.
He kissed her. That was something neither expected to happen. He was gentle, firm, needy, but never pushed past the welcome she offered to it. Draco hated her. He wanted her to suffer. Kissing was not a punishment. It was something he wanted to do in the moment of emotion and jealousy.
She hadn't pushed him away, to her eternal embarrassment.
The mood of the night changed. A charged moment brought their eyes together, all air sucked out their lungs, as their minds both arrived at the memory of their completely compliant kiss and exactly what prompted it into the tension.
Just as he stepped closer, a jagged shadow overtook them. It knocked Hermione to her back. Draco was thrown yards away, rolling in the grass and dew.
Luminesce of her spell split through the shadow; it revealed tan fur, curled talons, expansive feathered wings. It loomed twice the size of a wizard. Despite the ache at the back of her skull, a sure concussion, Hermione directed her wand at the mysterious creature. Its thundering steps shook the very ground on which she laid as it circled around, cawing at the light.
The blue light faded in and out. A dark film coated her vision more than once as she laid there, thoughts a distant hope to the bruised brain tissue. A few of her fingers, or what she hoped were her fingers, touched the base of her skull. They came back coated, with sticky black. Or red. She squinted harder, but the dark of night swallowed it whole.
She mumbled a spell that shined her wand brighter. The creature retreated farther back. It kept the circular pattern. Over and over. Back and forth. Circle, circle, circle.
Staggering to her feet, dripping hot liquid down her back, Hermione found her strength.
"Protego." It gave her a shield against whatever might come. "Lumos maxima."
Light grew thrice the size it had been. It highlighted a beast with the lower body of a lion. The tan fur was short. However, it had two magnificent wings off its back, grey and black feathers the length of her legs. When it chased after the light of her wand, she saw the face of a bird. An eagle.
She gasped. A griffin.
Griffins were ancient creatures hardly seen. Their patterns were wildly unknown.
Wizards revered these magic creatures. Even humans valued griffins. They were a symbol of divinity. They mated for life, uninterested in another partner, which prompted churches to uphold the sigil of a griffin in their opposition of remarriage. Wizards, too, followed the example and rarely remarried.
Hermione hyperventilated. She had to get the beast out of there. If someone saw it out there, it was bound to be investigated and then sure to be afterward would come the rumors that Draco and Hermione were together when it appeared. Oh Godric. Harry would explode. Ron might all out murder Draco over it.
"Shoo," she said as she waved her arms. They burned. But she pushed through at the image of Harry's exploding head. "Go on now. Go, go, go."
It brushed against her body as she made her way toward her wand. She pushed it back with strength.
Patience for the entire thing was lost within the overwhelming tide of pain.
Hermione shot sparks into the distance. The griffin stalked off in a hurry to follow the dying embers of the red sparks.
"Salazar, Granger. What took you so long?" Draco hissed as he approached. Two full minutes after the griffin's caw echoed through the open.
Coward.
Arm raised in front of her eyes so as to block the light of his wand, Hermione faced him. The wizard was completely unhurt from the encounter. His black suit was impeccable. Not a bit of fuzz nor filth or dust rested against the expensive fibers. She glared. As she lay hurt and bleeding, he primed himself.
Like a bloody bird!
Though her back throbbed and the blood escaping her skull was an issue, she mustered the least bit of respect and walked herself toward the castle.
"Hey! Come back here." He waited. She still walked. "Come back here, I say."
She fumed. He seriously expected her to just bleed to death on the lawn.
She heard his raging breath behind her ear as a pair of hands latched onto her hips and held her in place. Their deep clench at her flesh was barely felt. He used all his power to keep her still as he slithered in front of her with a frustrating look of concern on his face.
"Don't look at me like that. You can't stand aside preening yourself while a griffin knocks me out!" She stomped her foot, instantly regretted it, and let out a small yelp.
He presented his wand. "Do you want me to heal you or not?"
"How can I trust you to do it properly?"
He sneered. "Like there is a soul more capable than me."
She wanted to believe that there was another person with whom she could name as a more talented, experienced wizard. None came to mind that instilled confidence in a healing spell of the nature required. There was a single student who trailed her scores, in every subject.
It was the impossible wizard in front of her.
"You won't curse me?"
He rolled his eyes and brandished his wand. "For the last time, pet, I'm not here to curse you."
The spell took effect right away. A numbness overtook the sharp uncomfortable pain. It was welcome, though worrying, that sensation turned to nothing with each breath.
Cold air kissed the back of her neck as it was thrown over her shoulder, in a disheveled braid, with the slightest touch of his bare flesh against hers.
She froze. It was considered filthy to touch a muggleborn by a pure blood wizard. Not ones like Ron. But purebloods like Malfoy? He might chop his hand off in total upset.
Hermione watched his motions carefully as he healed her wounds. His sharp eyes examined each split of her skin, gently fingering her flesh as he mended it. There was intensity as he worked. All his concentration focused upon his task until it was complete, and he was satisfied it was up to par.
Next, he cleaned the blood from her uniform, adjusted her braids back to perfection, and carefully gave her an inspection for any imperfections to her person which left her feeling like quite his personal doll, a feeling that gave a sinfully wicked delight she stopped breathing.
"Have I missed anything?" He asked. His fingers ghosted across her shoulder.
She shook her head. "I think you got it all."
He exhaled. "I think so too."
A lightening strike across her chest filled her body with electricity. It beat her heart at the rate of galloping horses. Horses that danced within her very veins the rest of that night. Their braying broke through her dreams. She awoke with a smile, saddles and boots on the mind.
The brilliant daze lasted a while.
. . . . . .
Of course, news was broken to Umbridge of the secret gathering of students at Hog's Head and it was not well received. Flyers were posted in every common room. All student activities were disbanded. Meetings of more than three students were forbidden.
The question of how they were discovered was at the forefront of her mind. Of course, there was always a way with the Ministry. They were sneaky when it came to spying, even more so with Harry's business.
"The jinx would have gone off. I'd know. We'd all know."
Ginny and Hermione squished together on the loveseat. "Then what could it be?"
"I think he's being watched," Hermione admitted quietly. "We all are."
There were members of Gryffindor not privy to the knowledge of their group. They had to whisper together as if in gossip.
Just across their chair was a pair of older Gryffindors, one of them being Cormac McLaggen. Hermione would have not cared whether he was there or not, but every time she was around, he paid a certain attention to her that could not be ignored. She hid behind her bushy curls.
He managed to catch her eye. The uplift of the corner of his mouth showed a set of magnificent teeth. She looked away.
"What'll we do?" Ginny asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Harry says we are going to meet anyway. He doesn't care what Umbridge does to stop him."
"Suddenly warmed to the idea, I see."
"Yeah. It's probably got something to do with Cho," Hermione commented offhand.
It was no secret, or perhaps it was, that Harry was interested in Cho Chang.
The two girls settled together in their seat. They caught up on the major happenings, ones they couldn't discuss in front of the boys because of their innate abilities to misread things and say something idiotic, happy in each other's company rather than with boys.
Ginny asked about Harry's crush a bit but said nothing more on the matter. Her interest turned Hermione's new spent time with Draco Malfoy.
"Seems like the pair of you get on," the witch probed. She was not subtle.
Draco Malfoy escorted her to class, around the class, with a pair of bodyguards behind them. He led the way, with her just behind his left arm. They were flanked by Goyle and Crabbe, who were increasingly more willing to converse with her. Not in Draco's presence. They stayed silent then. Unless addressed.
Under pain of death, she'd never admit the slight comfort that came from their constant presence.
They pushed other Slytherins away from her. Most were discouraged from interrupting her during her studies. All week Draco and her had studied together within the library in their own isolated corner. Never in preceding years had she gotten so much work done without being interrupted by Ron's shenanigans or Harry's plead for help.
"Oh shoot." Hermione looked at the clock. "I've got to get to class. See you later, Gin."
It was time for a double class of Potions. Potions class with Professor Snape, and the Slytherins. Double whammy.
She climbed out of the portrait hole and found the two wizards waiting.
"Onto Potions, Granger?" Crabbe asked as they all fell into line down the staircase.
"Why, yes. Why don't we walk together? It's a nice day for a stroll, is it not?"
Goyle snorted. It was the most she got out of him at any given time.
It was a personal triumph.
They descended to the dank dungeons. It was home for them. Hermione was personally uncomfortable below ground. She felt closed inside a grave awaiting the slightest give in stone before it'd fill with dirt and bury her alive. The humidity of the dungeon left a dew on the walls. It was all slick, and cool, and sticky, and odd.
Goosebumps covered her skin.
Their pucker coated her until she beheld him. Outside the Potions classroom leaned that slender silhouette, alongside three other Slytherin students. Her pulse quickened. Draco's voice snaked its way through her body and squeezed at her lungs as she neared.
That was, until she heard his voice.
"…has him carted off to St. Mungos… they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."
A sudden flash of black overtook him. It was Neville who lunged at Draco and swung his limbs. She stood, frozen with horror, as her friends fought each other like the largest set of children ever recorded. Sparks shot out of the ends of her hair. Frustration boiled. It urged her thoughts toward a dangerous ledge of vengeance.
Especially once the Professor took notice and deducted points from Gryffindor.
A pair of gray eyes noticed her first in her approach. They stood still. It was the feeling of being ate up in delight.
She glanced at Harry, Ron and Neville, still disheveled from the confrontation.
Pansy Parkinson cleared her throat in that raspy tone. Her arms were crossed. There was that upturned nose like a pig's that wrinkled Hermione's nose in disgust.
How she hated that Slytherin bitch.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the masquerading lion."
She reached out for Ron's arm. "Come on. Before we get more points taken away for being late."
As they passed, she heard Draco's jaw lock together. That bubbly feeling evaporated in an instant. The passive nature of his face did not hide the rage within his eye. It kept solely on her as the Slytherins fell into their seats after the Gryffindors.
How could she have been so enchanted by his charms?
This was the wizard who taunted her as a child. He was the one who made her cry. She looked down upon the witches who fell prey to his looks, so easily misled by their eyes rather than their minds.
Now she was no better!
Worse yet, she let him kiss her.
Potions class turned into a class-long mortification of Professor Snape. Umbridge questioned his position within the school, asking deeply personal questions in front of the student body as if they were not even there.
Umbridge was the only person not to cower away from the scowl upon the professor's face.
"Of all the unprofessional…" Hermione muttered beneath her breath.
Ron rolled his eyes. "I hate the witch, too, Mione, but it's Snape. The git deserves it."
"This cannot be considered class anymore. We haven't discussed a single thing. What a waste of valuable time." She huffed. "They do know that we short time here, don't they?"
"Short time? We're here all year!"
"You may be here all year, but I can assure you, I am not. I don't live with magic as you do. I can't use mine outside these walls, near my parents."
A great bit of contention between the pair came from the waste of time within Hogwarts. She didn't like to whittle her time in the wizarding world to silly nonsense. Of course, that was what happened.
But not this year. Their side project was now their new class. That was not a waste.
"Mum said you could stay with us this summer," Ron said.
"I can't do that." She waved her hand away.
Molly was a kind woman. She adopted all her children's friends. Harry was as much a Weasley as he was a Potter. The witch loved to shower him with love and affection since she knew he didn't get it at home, or ever.
There was part of Hermione that hated the idea. She did not want her mother replaced. Her mother was her biggest fan, so proud that her only child was something special as a witch. In all Molly's attempt to congregate children under her roof as her own, a wall built up against the attempts. Hermione knew it meant well. She appreciated it. However, there was no woman alive or dead that could replace her own mum in her eyes.
Ronald understood the pressure it put to have Hermione repeatedly deny their attempts to absorb her within their ranks. She believed them family, never questioning her love for them, but just couldn't find the strength to commit so fully to people who weren't her parents.
"Considering all things, I think it'd be safer."
Her eyebrows raised. "Safer?"
"Voldemort's alive, Hermione. You're on his radar 'cause of Harry already, and now thanks to your bloody friend, Malfoy. The Eaters might start looking for you," he explained.
First the Ministry, now Death Eaters.
Her life was entirely too complicated as a witch.
A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG. If you read my other stories, you'll know that I've moved across a few states, had a new baby, bought a house and moved (yet) again. My life became too crazy to keep up with some of my fanfics. I appreciate all the comments and the concern for the continuation. I promise these are not abandoned fics. Just so slowly being updated again. Thanks for the patience. I love all my readers and commenters and even the critiques. Thanks for keeping me full of confidence as I write these. It means the world. I never get such support for my actual published novels, so believe me when I say I am truly grateful.
