Chapter 23 - Conduit
A/N: It's another long one and finally some answers to the questions y'all have been asking! Please note that I have no alpha/beta, all grammatical mistakes are my own. - delphicpigeon
It took every ounce of Draco's self-control to keep from running towards her and sweeping her up in his arms. His mind was crowing with exuberance and joy at her admission. It wasn't an outright declaration but he would take what he could get. His mind hadn't changed from the moment he drifted in that watery space, promising he would do everything possible to be worthy of her. If it meant taking tiny steps each and every day, he'd resolve to have the patience of a saint. Well, maybe not a saint. He was no saint, that much was certain. Coughing to hide his excitement, he leaned against his tool and fixed her with an intense look.
"I'm relieved that we are finally on the same page." He began, "You won't be in this alone. I know I am not exactly some shining knight in armor, but I can do my best to assist you. However, I don't think an all-powerful goddess needs a knight to save her." He finished with a small chuckle.
She groaned in embarrassment at his attempt at humor.
"Honestly, when you think about it," she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips, "For the past weeks I have been sort of like a princess trapped in a tower who was only rescued because a very angry knight burst through the door and saved me. Coincidentally, I also happened to be my own evil queen, or dragon, depending on which fairytale you think about."
Draco tilted his head at her words. He wasn't quite sure what she was going on about, but it was such a great relief to see a genuine smile on her face.
"Well since I've got you out here, you can help me with this garden." He began then paused on seeing her less than stellar condition, "On second thought, why don't you just keep me company til you've regained your strength?"
"Honestly, Draco, I am perfectly fine. I'm just a little tired." She scoffed, shuffling towards the edge of the garden.
Draco smirked, she looked like she could barely hold a book, let alone manage hard labor. He raised a pale eyebrow and quickly levitated the gardening equipment out of her reach. She sputtered in response, shooting him an incredulous glare.
"That wasn't up for debate Granger." He commanded, "Now take a seat while I'll finishing prepping these rows. You need the fresh air anyways." He declared while quickly transfiguring a wooden rocking chair from the nearby woodpile with a wordless Cushioning Charm for good measure.
"Fine." She snapped, dropping onto the chair with a huff.
He snickered internally when she gave a small yip of surprise at the unexpected Cushioning Charm. Her eyes narrowed briefly, but she settled back into the chair without further incident.
"Thank you." She called out softly as she began lightly rocking back and forth.
"Not a problem." He responded, "Now let me get back to work. If you need anything else, let me know."
"I'm not an invalid Malfoy." She retorted, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.
"Yes, you are." He argued, straightening his shoulders, "You trapped yourself in that room for two weeks, essentially tortured yourself through starvation and sleep deprivation, and I can detect that your magic levels have been weakened immensely. Any fool who lets their magic drain like that is an invalid. You will sit there while I finish this work and you will tell me if you need anything. Got it?" he ordered, his eyes boring into hers.
Her face flushed slightly before she gave a small nod and dropped her arms back to her lap.
"Good girl." He teased, giving one last chuckle as her eyes widened comically, before resuming his work.
As he continued to prep the beds and place the fragile seedlings into the ground with the upmost care, he would periodically glance up to check on her. For the first thirty minutes or so, she gently rocked while watching him silently. He noticed out of the corner of his eye, that she was particularly focused on the movement of his hands. In thrall of his soil machinations, she did not initially notice his watchful eye. Eventually, he caught her gaze and she immediately averted her eyes, much to his amusement.
After another half hour or so, he noted her rocking movement had stopped. Taking a brief glimpse, he observed that she had drifted off to sleep, her head tilted down slightly as her hair cascaded across the chair's arm. Smiling gently, he quietly cast another Cushioning Charm on the top half of the chair and transfigured a small lawn umbrella to shade her against the harsh midday sun. Taking a small break, he fetched two glasses of water and set one down next to her. He cast a quick Stasis Charm to keep the glass cool and as he sipped away his thirst, he took a closer look at her.
He frowned at the withdrawn look of her face, but was relieved to see some color had already returned. His eyes flashed in anger at the thought of some book causing this level of harm, but he was particularly incensed at her for attempting to do this alone. He hadn't outright admitted the entire spectrum of his feelings to her but he also needed her to understand that their individual survivals were inexplicably dependent on one another. He grimaced at realizing he might need to be a bit more forthright in speaking with her. She might have some Slytherin mannerisms, but she was still a foolhardy and direct Gryffindor. Draining the last of his glass, he exhaled heavily and returned to plant the final sprouts before returning to the greenhouse.
Hermione awoke with a start as the remnants of a dream faded rapidly from her vision. She frowned, wishing she could remember what she had dreamed when she realized she was not in her room. Looking around, she remembered that Draco had essentially forced her to sit outside in the glaring sun. Not that she had actually truly minded. The warmth of the sun had been welcome and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She had obsessed over that damned book and she had overlooked the high price it had demanded. Sighing inwardly, she rubbed her neck and was startled to find herself alone.
After all that nonsense about me being an invalid, he leaves me alone, she thought with a snort.
Standing with a stretch, her hands knocked into an unexpected object and she yanked them back in surprise. A thin parasol was floating above her, effectively blocking harmful rays from the sun. She gaped up at the item in astonishment. Taking a cursory glance around, she also noticed a tall glass of water with beads of sweat running down the sides. She muttered under her breath in bewilderment. Reaching down, she grabbed the glass and knocked back its contents. She hadn't realized how thirsty she had been. Now, that she thought about it, she was absolutely famished. She had been so focused on the book, she hadn't considered her appetite. Searching for Draco, she saw a flash of movement from inside the greenhouse and was relieved that he was nearby.
Interesting, she mused, that she should be comforted by his presence.
Shaking her head, she ambled towards the greenhouse and gave a low knock to avoid startling him. He stopped his work and turned to her, unease in his eyes.
"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" he questioned, worry heavy in his voice. "I was afraid to disturb your sleep since you hadn't gotten much of it lately."
Something deep down in her responded to his concern, like the plucking of a string to release a single melodic note. It was a pleasant feeling, like the beginning of a beloved song. A song that brought comfort in its familiarity. It reminded her of that day she heard Draco singing. She smiled at the feeling and at him. Maybe one day she'd hear him sing again.
"I'm ok. A little hungry actually." She answered, leaning against the greenhouse's doorway, "Thank you for the shade and the water."
He turned away abruptly and Hermione nearly missed the slight reddening of his face.
"Its not a big deal. Couldn't have you burning to a crisp in the garden now could we?" he remarked, busying himself with a single, round bud and several nearby containers.
"My skin thanks you." She mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "What are you working on? That looks too large to be any herb or vegetable." She questioned, plucking it up in a swift motion.
"It's a rose, I think." He indicated, "Found it hidden in the cottage in the back of a drawer. Seems whoever set up this safehouse had an affinity for plants. I don't have much experience with roses. That was my mother's specialty."
Hermione blinked in surprise.
"Were roses her favorite then?" she ventured, hoping the question was not too intrusive.
"Yes." he sighed, frowning slightly, "She adored roses. They brought her peace during our trials as a family." He finished bitterly.
"What trials could the Malfoy family possibly endure?" Hermione snarked, "You are in essence Sacred 28 royalty with ample wealth and high societal and political influence. Status, power, and a fortune. Even Muggleborns seek this sort of lifestyle."
"For all the blather about how pure and fearless Gryffindors are," he intoned, shooting her a dark look, "You can be painfully dim-witted and inappropriate with your questions. You could do with some lessons in proper decorum."
She gasped at his words, realizing with some level of shame at how callous and cruel she sounded.
Hadn't Cerridwen just warned her of such similar actions? That her thoughts, however righteous she might think them to be, were just the other side of the blood purist coin? She had just condemned the entirety of the Malfoy family without a second thought while she had gushed the idealism of equality and fair treatment since her House Elves effort of Fourth Year?
"I shouldn't have said that." She whispered, picking at her her fingers nervously, "That was terribly insensitive and rude of me."
"You'd be surprised what our family has endured, not only in this life, but in previous times to survive." He recalled despondently, "My mother has suffered more than most."
"Can I ask why?" Hermione pressed, "She basically saved our lives and gave us a chance to survive. As odd as it is to admit, I respect her for that despite my obvious skepticism."
"One day I'll tell you, but right now, I'm just not ready to discuss my mother." He exhaled, "I'd like to get this last seed finished before I retire for the day." He hinted as he reached his hand out towards the bud she still held in her hand.
She obliged, dropping the round object into his outstretched palm. As his fingers wound around it, Hermione noticed the state of his hand. Blisters were prominent and dirt was embedded in his ragged nails. Her eyes flicked up to his face before dropping back to his hands. He had worked so hard for them both and, in that moment, she realized that she had truly meant what she had said.
I really do need him, she thought, and he needs me.
"Here," she said earnestly, "Let me help you finish up. It's the least I can do."
"Alright," he remarked with a smile, "There is only the one bud and I'd like to be as careful as possible. Could you move the container over here and roughly place two inches of soil in the bottom of it?"
She nodded and stepped inside the greenhouse, lightly brushing across him in the cramped space. Draco cursed quietly, forgetting about the unavoidable proximity inside. He had inadvertently forced this upon himself. Taking a steadying breath, he took a slight step to the right to create any sort of space between them. She gave him a strange look before carefully measuring in exactly two inches of soil inside the reddish terracotta pot.
Ever the overachiever, he thought sarcastically.
"What's next?" she insisted, a mix of excitement and curiosity evident in her voice.
He felt a flicker of butterflies in his stomach at the pure enthusiasm radiating off her. He felt a glimmer of relief that other than her diminished physique, her mind was as clear and alert as ever.
"Now make a small indentation and place the bud inside," he instructed, indicating she use the pad of her thumb to press into the soil, "Then we'll cover it up with a thin layer of soil, thoroughly and carefully soak the soil, and place it over here to grow."
"How long do you think that will take?" she mused as she set to work, "I wish there were some sort of magic to accelerate the growth. That way we could see if it is truly a rose and what color it would be."
"These things take time Granger," he huffed out, "That sort of magic is elemental and we can't control earth's natural processes."
He hit a mental wall of realization as soon as the words left his lips. He froze in place, furiously recalling those cryptic and perplexing words from Black Book of Carmarthen:
…great and terrible powers of the Earth used during the Battle of Llongborth…
"I know, but waiting has never exactly been my strong suit." She chuckled, "Wouldn't it be fantastic if we…Draco, what's wrong?"
Her voice sounded far off, too subdued to pull him from his mental cataloguing. Only when she gently tapped his arm, did he realize she had spoken.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked, "Maybe you should stop for a second and get some water. It is pretty warm in here."
"No, it's not that. Something you just said reminded me of some work I recently translated." He explained quickly, the wheels turning in his mind.
"You've been working on translations as well?" she burst out eagerly, "What is it? Tell me!"
Draco began explaining the passage to Hermione and she became so visibly thrilled, he thought he might have to anchor her to the greenhouse for fear she might float away.
"It is my theory, based on how you seem to have some sort of emotionally based connection to some forms of elemental magic through Cerridwen, that maybe you also have the ability to control earthen based magic as well. Remember how you nearly gave me frostbite our first day here or when you lit the fire without your wand?" he speculated.
He felt a slight twinge of guilt when she cringed at the mention of their frostbite incident. He'd be so caught up in this potential magical breakthrough that he hadn't stopped to consider his words.
"It wasn't my intention to upset you about the frostbite situation. I meant it more in terms of air and water elementals. You conjured gale-like winds along with fully formed snow by pulling water droplets from the air itself!" he added, hoping she would latch onto his idea.
He watched as she considered his words, her lips moving silently as if she was having a rapid-fire argument in her head. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she glanced up at him with a mix of terror and awe in her eyes.
"Do you really think I'm capable of such magic?" she breathed out, a voice barely above a whisper.
"I still have all my fingers." He shot out with a grin, further proving his point by bringing up a hand and wiggling his fingers.
She slapped his hand down with a giggle before turning solemn faced.
"Okay," she declared, "Let's see if your theory is correct."
She watched as he reached up and grabbed a random seed packet and shook out a couple seeds into his hand.
"Why not the rose bud?" she asked with a frown, thrilled by the prospect of magically creating real, not just transfigured, flowers.
"I only found the one and I don't want to risk ruining the only seed we have. These are…" he started, glancing over the writing on the packet, "Cherry tomatoes. We've got several of these seeds, so it won't be too much of a loss if they fail."
"Oh," she murmured, "That makes sense."
He only responded with a smirk and gestured for her to hold out her hand. She did so and yelped when he dumped a handful of dirt into her palm.
"What's the dirt for?" she demanded as the fine, loamy material slipped between her fingers and onto the greenhouse's floor.
"The wording specifically mentioned 'earth', so its safe to say some earth will be needed." He reasoned, "Besides don't plants require earth to grow? Or maybe you draw from the inherent elemental magical properties that exist within the soil itself. I'm not sure but its worth trying. Now hold still so I don't drop these seeds on the ground."
She steadied her hand and watched as he placed a single seed into the center of her palm with surgical precision. She admired the steadiness of his hands, offhandedly reflecting on how useful a skill that must be for potion-brewing. A brief cough pulled her back where Draco was waiting for her, his arms crossed expectantly.
"Are you sure your magic can handle this?" he questioned lightly.
"I think so. It feels a bit more settled, maybe that nap and a bit of fresh air helped." She joked, giving him a wide smile.
"Ha." He replied sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, "Just stop if you feel like you are going to collapse. Not much room for that in here."
Hermione felt her heart swell a bit at his concern while a flush crept up her neck and towards her cheeks. Not wanting to see his reaction to her blushing, she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Focusing on the small bundle in her hand, picturing a green sprout shooting up from the brown material. She felt the thrum of magic activate at the intention. The center of her palm began to grow warm and heavy. She heard a sharp intake of air. Afraid to open her eyes, she spoke.
"Is it working?" she uttered, growing alarmed as the weight became so heavy that she had to use her other hand to fully support it.
"You had better open your eyes." Came his whispered response, heavy with awe.
She opened her eyes, blinking first at the bright sunlight filtering through the greenhouse's roof and second at the large green object partially blocking her view of Draco. Her breath left in a collective woosh, the air effectively stolen from her lungs.
The seed had gone beyond a small sprout. A tall shoot, full of budding limbs and leaves, rose up from her hand. A golden mist floated around the plant and small, white blossoms began popping up on the tips of its leafy fingers. She focused harder, willing the blossom to bear fruit. The golden mist, her magic, gently swirled around the flowers. The mist seemed to pluck the petals leaving perfect, shiny red tomatoes in their stead.
Her mind reeling at the magic unfolding before them, she sought out Draco's eyes. They were switching rapidly back and forth between her and the tomatoes, incredulous and captivated. She let out a squeal of delight at the delicious looking fruit, tempted to pluck one off and pop it in her mouth.
Her temptation and joy were short-lived. No sooner than the tomatoes had taken perfect mature form, did they began to wilt. The golden mist swirled faster and faster around the tomatoes, plucking them off as carelessly as the blossoms had been plucked.
"You're overdoing it." He barked out, "Stop!"
Hermione's brow creased as she tried to stop the magic's forceful assault on the delicate plant. However, the magic refused to cooperate and she began to panic.
"I can't!" she exclaimed in terror, "It won't listen! This was a terrible mistake!"
The magic continued twisting around the tomato plant like a vine, tugging til all the red fruits littered the floor, mushy and rotten. Her bottom lip begin to tremble when the stem and limbs began curling in on themselves, turning brown and dried out. With a last, agonizing flare of golden sparks, the plant dissolved into a fine ash that collected neatly in her palm. Staring at the grayish brown pile, she shook the ash from her hand and began crying. She heard Malfoy drop a low whistle while giving her a sympathetic touch on the shoulder.
"Well, that obviously didn't work." He snorted out, vanishing the mess from the floor, "Now we know who has the green thumb between the two of us."
Hermione whipped her head around at him.
"What did you say?" she squeaked out, shooting him an incensed glare.
"No reason to get upset. We had no idea if it would really work." He snapped, holding up his hands in deflection, "Sometimes growing plants is just an innate ability. Honestly, I didn't even know I was that good at gardening til we came here."
A series of ideas and questions dawned in Hermione's mental periphery. If their magic already partially connected, then why had just her magic manifested? Did she have the ability to conjure elemental magic, but her "consort" was meant to act as a safeguard to these magics? She considered that her elemental magic had become increasingly volatile and draining as of late, but this was the most settled it had been. It had settled remarkably the moment he had stepped in her room. She trained a critical look on Draco's features.
"I mean I was pretty good in Herbology, except that awful year with the Mandrakes." He drawled, "No offense. I still have nightmares about those horrible-…why are you looking at me like that?" he blurted out, a flash of suspicion in his eyes.
"Were you always this proficient in gardening?" she questioned intently, "Let me clarify, have you ever actually grown a garden?" she finished, leaning forward to poke a dirty finger squarely in his chest.
"Of course, I haven't." he scoffed, callously brushing away her hand.
"Then how come you've managed to grow one without any sort of experience?" she demanded, "Gardens take years of practice. No one is naturally that good. Unless, they have some sort of divine-like assistance." she suggested nonchalantly with a knowing grin.
"What are you trying to say?" he challenged, "That I have the ability to control Earth? Didn't you hear me earlier? It specifically mentioned Cerridwen in that text, not her 'consort'."
"Didn't you notice that only my magic manifested? Your magic wasn't there to temper mine. For all this talk about bonds and consorts, we haven't actually attempted any magic in tandem. Especially extraordinarily powerful magic such as elemental magic." She elaborated, "Think of it like this: I may be the raw source of the power itself, but I need a conduit to properly channel and direct that power. Just like a wand channels magic. Maybe you are that conduit."
He stood still, seemingly mulling over the potential implications of her words. Silently, he turned around and grabbed another fistful of dirt. He reached for her hand, grasping her by the wrist, and poured more soil into her hand. She watched keenly as he placed another seed in the center of the pile, his grip on her wrist remained firm but gentle. He looked into her eyes and stiffly nodded.
"Try it again, but this time, focus on bringing up both our magic." He stressed, his face set in determination.
Taking a deep breath, she repeated the process, focusing on drawing out both of their magics. The inside of the greenhouse glowed as the two shimmering materials danced around their hands. The golden mist scattered the soil while the liquid silver encapsulated the seed. They both watched in silent fascination as the seedling sprouted and inched upward.
"Now," he breathed, his voice grounding her focus, "Concentrate on slowing down the growth. There is no point in forcing the plant to bear fruit now."
She nodded and released a low breath, pulling back on the intensity of the manifested magic. She was beyond relieved when the leaves unfurled slower and the spinning combo of gold and silver began to fade. She nearly missed the feel of his other hand gently reach up to cup her hand, his features arranged in a mix of delight and bewilderment. Once again, she felt that fluttering ache in her chest and she knew her theory to be correct.
They needed each other, but in a way neither had ever expected.