What you NEED to know: Now that The Order of the Phoenix is out this obviously won't go along with it, so you just have to sort of pretend the events in it aren't going on. I'm going to carry on as I had planned. I may, however, draw some things from OOTP and insert them in here. For example, Fred and George testing out their joke shop items, the existence of the OOTP itself and its members...sorry if this confuses anyone, but I really want to go along as planned. So, as I said, I am. ^__^
A/N: I keep getting pop-up advertisements for Vigel and penis enlargement pills and other random crazy crap…it's driving me INSANE. *bangs head on desk* (And yes, you needed to know this. ^^) Oh, and I don't know if I spelled Pauperie right. I couldn't find it in the dictionary. What I mean is the dried-up good-smelling stuff you put in rooms pronounced "poe-pehr-ee". If I spelled it wrong, please correct me. Thanks.
"Erm, excuse me," Hermione stuttered, starting into the face of the equally startled girl.
Hermione bent down to help her pick up her fallen books, her hands slightly shaking. She looked exactly like the girl from her dream, and her uniform told Hermione that she was indeed a Slytherin, as she had thought. It was her hair that gave her away, though—jet black with pieces dyed blue towards the front. Hermione began stacking the books neatly in her arms…they were on normal subjects; potions, transfiguration, herbology...etc. There were odd ones, however. The Keeping of Barn Owls, Great Expectations, and most interesting of all, The Forbidden Forest Volume 2: Plants & Vegetation.
Hermione stopped stacking and held the book as she pondered. The Forbidden Forest was where the dream always took place. This definitely had to be the girl from the dream, and from the look on her face she was thinking the exact same thing about Hermione. However, there was also the possibility that she was wondering why on earth Hermione was staring at her book. Either way, Hermione couldn't very well make her thoughts known to the girl. What would she say? 'Excuse me, but I think you make yourself present in my recurring dream in which I fall into endless darkness after being led around the forest by a woman wrapped in light.'
Yeah. That would go over well.
"Ahem!"
Hermione jumped a bit and her head shot up to meet the slightly aggravated expression of the girl.
"Mind if I have my book back?" she inquired.
Hermione rose and dusted her robes off a bit, fighting down her obvious embarrassment. "Erm, sorry." She hastily handed the book back to its owner and the two turned in a swirl of robes and went their opposite ways.
Hermione mentally kicked herself. Stupid Hermione. Stupid Hermione. Made a FOOL out of yourself. AGH, stupid, stupid, stupid!
"...Where was I going?" Hermione wondered allowed, turning this way and that. "Ah, yeah. The forest."
She continued her brisk walk, finally pushing open the doors to the thick abundance of morning sunlight outside. She strode towards Hagrid's house, eyes attacking the forest with a look that said "I want answers. NOW." Upon arrival, she quickly patted Fang on the head and knocked on the door, resuming her cool-headed attitude in a quick breath.
"Comin'!" a gruff voice from inside called, soon followed by large, muffled footsteps. The door opened and out poked Hagrid's bearded face, thick eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Ah! Hermione!" the man boomed, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in," he gestured with a few swoops of his large, rough hand. "Just makin' some soup, 'ere."
Hermione closed the door behind her; the warm, homey smell of Hargid's cabin and the aroma of the unidentified soup filling her nose. Hagrid picked up a ladle and stirred the soup a bit, sniffed, and grunted in satisfaction as he sat down in a chair near the bubbling cauldron. Hermione sat down in the chair opposite of him.
"So, Hermione," Hagrid smiled. "What brings you 'ere?"
"Nothing special, Hagrid," said Hermione, trying her best to sound casual. "Just thought I'd drop by for a visit."
"Ah, good of you to come, 'Mione. You can be the first to try my soup!" Hagrid beamed.
Hermione smiled weakly. "Oh, yes!"
Hagrid gave the concoction another stir. "So, where's Harry and Ron at today?"
"Oh, um...quidditch!"
Hagrid stroked his dark, bushy mass of a beard. "Hm, that's odd. I was out a few minutes ago and didn't see anyone out—"
"Discussing quidditch, I mean. I got rather bored, so..." Hermione shrugged. "I decided to pay you a visit."
"Oh, I see."
Hermione broke the silence that followed. "So...Hagrid...everything been alright lately?"
"Yep, I've been well. You?" Again he stirred, staring suspiciously at the soup. "Good, good," Hermione assured. Ok, that didn't work…
"Everything been well? You know...Fang, the Forest..." she trailed off and bit her lip as the reality of her bad acting hit her.
"Erm…not bad…" Hagrid trailed off and raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Anythin' wrong, Hermione?"
"No, no, I'm fine!" Hermione insisted, plastering a smile on her face.
"Uh-huh," Hagrid turned back to the soup. He straightened and sniffed approvingly. "Righ' then! I think it's done. Would ye' like a bite, Hermione?"
"Oh no, I should get going," Hermione said, rising a bit too quickly for her polite tone. "But thank you, Hagrid."
"Any time, any time," Hagrid said, looking slightly disappointed.
"Bye then!" Hermione let herself out.
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Hermione shook her head as she started out across the lawn. She was getting nowhere. She'd just have to deal with the dreams…for now, at least. Until she could figure out a way to get the answers she needed. One thing was for sure: she was NOT going into the forest alone. And there was no way that she was going to ask Ron and Harry to go with her—she remembered all too well their reactions to her half-conscious declaration that she wanted to go into the forest. And frankly, she'd be scared to go with or without them. She'd much rather find her answers outside the forest.
Alright…think, think…What EXACTLY happened last night? Hermione thought.
She had woken up on the floor of a corridor. What corridor? Hermione scanned her mind…she couldn't really remember. A corridor with…a big window. Near…the library!
Right then.
She had met Draco there, they had argued, they had parted…nothing out of the ordinary. But why had Draco been in the corridors? She had never gotten an answer from him.
Probably just Draco being Draco, Hermione thought huffily. Maybe she'd ask him again later. Not that he'd give her an answer, but it was worth a try…and a nice threat or two wouldn't hurt either…
Hermione mentally slapped herself. She was a prefect! She couldn't do that; she'd have to try something else. Oh well—that was a question to be answered later. Right now there was Friday's homework to be done.
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Draco's eyes grew weary as 9:00 P.M. drew near. He set off from the library down the corridor, the single lonely sound being the echo of his footsteps off of the wall. He often wandered the halls of Hogwarts at night…it was a familiar sound to him.
Draco became slightly more aware of the world as a second pair of echoes joined his own; first faint, but then growing. A figure stepped around the corner and into view, nose practically buried inside an oversized textbook. Draco couldn't quite figure out who it was, but as he got closer he could see the faint torch light glinting off of black hair and a pair of glasses now and then. Messy black hair. Overly-round glasses.
Potter. Just dandy. A wonderful way to end the evening. And knowing tendencies to be as they were, they were probably going to end up in a fight and would either a) be spending the night in the infirmary or b) they would both wind up with detention. Draco favored neither choice…but there he was. Right there, so unsuspecting. Draco couldn't help but find amusement at the thought of throwing off Potter's night. Maybe he'd just give him a bit of a nudge, just make him stumble a bit and drop his book…or perhaps trip him. Then he'd walk off before they'd even have a chance to even think about fighting.
The distance between them shortened and Draco stuck out his foot right in Harry's path, a huge grin overtaking his face. He had to admit, it was actually rather juvenile, but hilarious all the same. Harry let out a cry of surprise and fell to the floor, a muffled echo left in his wake. His book hit the floor and loudly slammed itself shut beside him.
Harry came to his senses and pulled himself to his feet, glaring at Draco. "Ha. Ha. I'm amused," he growled, bending over to heave the book from the floor.
Draco tried to move; tried to walk away like he was supposed to. He couldn't.
Harry straightened his glasses, which had slid half way down his face. He spoke again when he received no reply from Draco. "Git."
Draco did not move or speak, but stood rooted to the cold stone floor, staring blankly at the face of his enemy.
Potter smelled good.
Harry turned to leave, fighting the obvious urge to stain Draco's now sickly pale skin.
Potter smelled damn good.
"Wait." The word left Draco's mouth before he knew he had even said it.
Harry stopped and raised his eyebrows in annoyance, but said nothing.
Draco had no clue what he was going to say. He stood there, feet as heavy as anything. His mouth seemed to be sewn shut at the moment, any words he could say tangled up in the mass of thread he was choking on. He felt nothing; not the coldness of the corridor, not the heat of Harry's agitated stare. He saw nothing; he was not aware of the day or night. He was overtaken by the scent that Harry carried about him. It wasn't recognizable at all; Draco had never smelled anything like it. Ever. It filled his mind, blocked his senses, drew him in, and held him fast. The air was thick with it; it was all he could breathe, all that he could think of.
In one swift movement Draco covered the three feet of space between them, any remaining shred of resistance drowned out by the scent. He didn't care; he just wanted to be near it. It drove him mad. Draco rubbed his nose into Harry's unkempt hair and breathed in as Harry froze up. He choked on the scent, entangled as it weaved its way deeper and deeper into his mind, trapping him. Harry made a few small noises of protest but was too stunned by the suddenness of it all to do anything.
Smells so good…
Draco moved downward and nipped softly at Harry's neck, beginning to register exactly what he was doing…he didn't much care.
Before Draco knew it Harry's fist had connected with his face in a furious and confused effort to pry the blond boy off of him.
Draco stumbled backward, and his body tensed up immediately. His head jerked up to meet the eyes of Harry, who was wiping his neck with the back of his hand and glaring at him with a strange, mixed look of confusion, fear, and furious anger.
Draco, to put it plainly, was horrified.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…
They stood motionless, silence reigning. Draco felt his palms grow slick with nervous sweat, and he had to remind himself to breath. What was that?
Harry turned and stumbled down the corridor and out of sight, leaving Draco standing dumbly in the shadows and rippling torchlight.
Oh shit.
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Hope you liked it. Heh. Have I confused you a bit? ^__^
I just have one VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE. Sorry. I have to do that to get people's attention. ^^ Anyway, if you start to catch on to some of the things that are happening, whether it be now or later in the story, that's cool and all but please keep it to yourself and don't include any of your suspicions or theories in reviews. I'd like people to figure things out for themselves—that's half the fun of the story. Thanks. ^__^
Review questions and things I'd like you to include:
1) Are the chapters an ok length for ya'll? Do they need to be longer/shorter?
2) How is my portrayal of the characters doing?
3) What or who would you like to see more of?
4) Any suggestions or comments you'd like to make.
ACK. MORE SICK POPUP ADS. DIIIEEEEE.
Uh-huh. Kthxbaiiii!
--Memai