A/N: Well, I don't know how the continuation of this is going to go. At the very least it's going to take a back seat, because I'm working on two projects right now—one original fiction and one comic idea. I don't know; I've never really been great at fanfiction. You have to stay in one fandom for a while to do it properly, and I sort of go through little spurts of interest, y'know? I suppose that's why I prefer writing one-shot fanfiction…it doesn't require that long-term fandom to be written. Oh well. I like the concept well enough as well as the different ideas and conflicts I have for the story, so it may go on. We'll just have to see, I suppose.
A few questions answered:
Fish: 'Mione is just a nickname for Hermione.
….That was one question. Okwhatevershutup. .
Harry practically ran into the portrait as he skidded to a stop, gasping out the password at the rather confused Fat Lady.
"You alright, dear?" she inquired.
Harry, still gasping for breath, nodded vigorously (and falsely, for that matter.) The Fat Lady smiled at him reassuringly and the portrait swung open. Harry climbed in, almost tripping over himself as he did so. He could feel his legs shake as he stepped; he felt lightheaded, almost weak.
Ok, just calm down, he told himself.
He paused and took a few deep breaths before proceeding into the common room, slapping a natural look on his face and looking around for Ron or Hermione. The fire was lit high in the fireplace, crackling and popping lazily in all of its pleasant warmth. Students were everywhere—in the chairs, around the tables with papers sprawled every which way; on the floor with towers of books, parchment, and ink piled beside them. The low murmur of voices drifted sleepily through the room, undisturbed by Harry's entrance. It was almost enough to calm him.
In a quick look Harry found both Ron and Hermione sitting comfortably in their favorite armchairs in front of the fire, Hermione poking Ron every now and then when he looked like he was beginning to nod off. Ron, of course, was doing what seemed to be last-minute homework, and Hermione looked to be reading a novel. How she found time to read novels Harry didn't know, but he knew better than to question those kinds of things. He walked briskly across the room and sank down gratefully into the armchair beside Ron and facing Hermione. He closed his eyes and sighed, furthering his attempts to calm himself as the warmth of the crackling fire welcomed his cold skin.
"'ello," Ron said, not lifting his eyes from his parchment.
Hermione set her book down on her lap and smiled. "Hey Harry."
Harry's vocal chords didn't seem to want to work, but he spoke anyway. "Hey," he croaked, immediately clearing his throat afterward. He smiled at his friends. "What's up?"
Hermione sighed. "Not much. RON here decided to leave his potions essay to the LAST MINUTE," She informed Harry several octaves higher than her normal tone. ((A/N: I don't even know how much higher a voice gets per octave…but hey, it's all good. o_-)) ((………come to think of it, is octave even the right term......? o.o))
Ron grunted and continued filling the parchment, quill scratching madly. Harry's eyes followed the quill as it moved across the paper, his mind busy searching for something to say. He felt rather put on the spot, for some reason. Acting normal was turning out to be far more difficult than actually being normal. In the end he resolved to act overly interested in what those around him were doing…which wasn't very interesting at all.
"Can you BELIEVE Snape?!" Ron suddenly fumed, slamming his quill down on his paper. "I've still got another assignment due tomorrow for him on top of this!"
"Well, you'd be fine if you wouldn't do everything the night before," Hermione sighed, turning a page in her novel.
Harry took that topic and ran with it. "Still, Hermione, you have to admit he does give us a lot. The only people who don't complain about him are the Slytherins, and that's only because he's head of their house!"
"If you can't handle it then go talk to Snape—I'm sure he'll understand," Hermione drawled sarcastically.
"Yeah, right," Harry smiled, his eyes following a group of first years on their way up to the dormitories. He wouldn't mind a bit of sleep himself. Not that he would be able to get any after the night's...cruel and nauseating events.
"I'm gonna turn in before I fall asleep in the chair," Harry said. "G'night." He rose reluctantly, feeling ten times more tired now that the thought had settled in. Mmm. Warm bed….fluffy pillows…
"Oh, Harry," Hermione piped.
Harry turned, running a hand through his messy black hair. "Mm-hm?"
Hermione grinned mischievously and pointed somewhere around Harry's face. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow…what was she…?—Oh shit. She wasn't pointing at his face, she was pointing at his neck!
"Who's the hickey from, Harry?" Hermione inquired, still grinning.
HICKEY? That idiot had given him a HICKEY? Lovely. Simply lovely.
Harry's hand involuntarily shot up to cover the spot on his neck, which didn't do much in his defense. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, I think you know what I'm talking about!" Hermione pressed, poking Harry with her bookmark.
"No, I don't!" Harry retorted. By this time Ron had jumped into the conversation as well.
"Yeah Harry, who's the lucky girl?" he teased, poking Harry's other side with his quill.
Harry brushed them both off, his cheeks flushing a dusty pink shade. The lucky girl. Ahahaha…yeah, sure.
"Ooh! Harry's blushing!" Ron said in a sing-song voice. "Harry's blushing!"
"Keep it down, stupid!" Harry hissed as Ron pulled him back down into the armchair.
"You're not going to make us guess, are you?" he inquired.
"Oh c'mon, Harry; you know we'll find out sooner or later!" Hermione added.
"There is NOTHING going on, so both of you just leave me alone!" Harry hissed, crossing his arms stubbornly.
Ron grinned at Hermione. "I think we get to guess now."
"Is it Parvati?" Hermione asked. ((A/N: Did I spell her name wrong?))
"No."
"Lavender?" Ron offered.
"No."
"Ginny?!"
"No."
"GOOD," said Ron.
"Ooh, Cho? Can't believe I didn't think of her first," said Hermione.
"I wish!" Harry laughed.
"Oh, so it DID happen, eh?" Hermione nudged him playfully. "Just tell us, Harry!"
"Pleeeease? I'll be your best friend!"
"You are my best friend, you dolt."
"Oops, my bad."
"Harry—"
"LOOK," Harry said, getting up from the chair once more. "Nothing happened, okay? Just leave it alone!" he rubbed his temples.
Ron stuck out his tongue. "Geez, don't get so worked up about it; we're just having a bit of fun."
Harry sighed. "I know, I know. Sorry, I'm just tired. Anyway…Goodnight." He turned to walk up the stairs.
"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said, turning back to her novel.
"Y'know, I might turn in, myself," Ron said, making to rise from his chair.
"Oh no you don't," Hermione said. "You're finishing your potions essay."
"Oh c'mon, 'Mione—"
"Nope."
"You know, normal couples—"
"Who said we were a normal couple?"
"But I don't get it!" Ron whined.
Hermione sighed and shut her book. "Move over and I'll help you." Ron made room for her on his chair and she snuggled in beside him.
The boy quickly kissed her cheek. "Love you."
Hermione smiled.
º- »¤« -º
"Kekka! KEKKA!" Evelyn hissed, nudging her friend.
Kekka Hoshino blinked a few times and shook her head, coming out of reverie. "Hmm?"
Evelyn jerked her head towards Professor Sprout, who was currently going over various charts of plants.
Watch it, she keeps looking over here, Evelyn mouthed. Kekka didn't quite catch on.
What? She mouthed back, tilting her head in question.
"Is there a problem, Miss Hoshino?" Professor Sprout asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Erm, no ma'am," Kekka muttered.
"Then you'd do well to listen to what I have to say instead of talking with Miss Chang."
Evelyn winced.
"10 points from Slytherin," Professor Sprout added, turning back to the charts and continuing her lecture.
Kekka tried to hold her attention to the lesson, but it wasn't of much use. She usually didn't have any problems listening in Herbology—in fact, it was one of her favorite subjects. Today, however, she couldn't seem to keep her mind focused. It was all because of that girl...Hermione Granger, she believed was her name. Yesterday she had run in to her in the hallway, and she was almost sure that she was the other girl in the dream she had been having. She definitely looked the same as in the dream, and it was weird, but she felt some sort of…connection to her? She supposed that was the right way to put it. It was kinda freaky, to say the least. And she didn't exactly fancy doing any associating with a Gryffindor.
"Alright!" Professor Sprout said suddenly, knocking Kekka from her thoughts. "Now that that's settled, I want you all to pair up into groups of three and head out into the forest to find these plants. I want a small sample of each, but for goodness sake don't bring me back a whole bouquet's worth. This is Herbology, not the florist's. Take your books with you if you want reference—there are sketches on pages sixty-one and sixty-two. Meet back in…" she paused a moment. "Twenty minutes. And don't go off to far unless you fancy a nice line-up of detentions; you can find all that you need near the edge."
Kekka promptly paired herself with her friends Evelyn and December, and the students strolled lazily into the forest to start their assignment. The day was sunny and mild, and so the task wasn't too unpleasant, but since her dreams had started the forest had begun to give Kekka chills every now and then. For the better part of the assignment she pondered her dreams again, glancing over at Hermione every once in a while. That is, until December whacked her on the head.
"Hey, wake up Kekka; we're not gonna do all the work by ourselves."
"Yeah, what's up with you? You're all spaced out today," Evelyn added, tying up her long black hair with a red ribbon.
Kekka shook her head. "Nothing. Just didn't get enough sleep last night, I guess" she lied.
A few yards back into the forest Hermione, Harry, and Ron were looking for a particularly stubborn root sample around a tree. Or rather, Hermione was looking for the root sample while Harry and Ron roamed aimlessly and pretended to know what they were doing, Harry trying to stay as far away from Draco as humanely possible.
"Find anything yet?" Hermione called.
"Nope," Harry answered for the both of them.
Hermione squinted over at the two. "Well you're looking around the wrong type of tree, stupid. Try looking around that oak"—she pointed—"Yes, that one." She shook her head and began her searching again. "Ah, there."
Hermione's eye fell on a few purple-brown, sickly looking leaves sprouting from a damp patch of dirt in between the roots of an oak. She reached out, but a pale hand enclosed on the said plant and pulled, exposing a long-running network of roots.
Hermione met the monotonous grey eyes of the thief that kneeled before her, holding the root up in silent triumph.
"Hand it over, Malfoy."
"Hmm?" Draco blinked as if he'd just now noticed her presence. "Oh, hello 'cutie'." He grinned his one-sided grin and looked at the root, stroking his chin in mock thought. "And why should I give this to you?"
Hermione clenched her teeth and made a mental note to never wear that shirt again. Ever. "Because I was going for it before you were. Now GIVE IT TO ME." She outstretched her hand expectantly.
Draco cocked his head to the side, his smirk disrupting his otherwise handsome features. He promptly flipped the Gryffindor off and stood, brushing off his robe.
Hermione bolted up. "Give me the damn root, Malfoy!"
"Ooh, profanity. You shouldn't say such things."
Hermione made an attempt to snatch the root from the Slytherin, but stopped short as a violent pain ran through her head. She dug her hands into her wavy brown mass of hair, gripping her skull as the pain pulsed again.
"Aah…" she whimpered, voice cracking.
"Help," a voice called, echoing through the forest. Hermione instinctively turned and scanned the never-ending body of trees before her, wondering why no one else seemed to hear it. It was perfectly clear…
Draco appeared in front of her, eyeing her strangely. Hermione wavered a little, stumbling sickly forward.
"Whoa, Granger, if you're gonna barf don't do it on me," the blond said, quickly stepping to the side.
Hermione walked forward, her mind flashing unrecognizable images. There was death, there was pain—so much pain she could feel it clawing and ripping at her heart and in her head. There was darkness, and there was blood…silver blood. Her stumbling turned into running, her mind focused only on getting her deeper into the forest, whether she wanted to or not. She was conscious—she had to be. She knew what she was doing, and at the same time she didn't care or know why. She was conscious on another level; she was conscious outside of herself. She was conscious of pain, and of blood. Slick, horrible, silver blood.
Two arms grabbed her from behind and held her—she fought them. She kicked and flailed her arms and tried to run forward, the pounding in her head quickening and flaring horribly. And then she fell, and whatever twisted version of consciousness she possessed faded from her entirely as her eyes darkened.
Kekka Hoshino fell after her, only feet away.
º- »¤« -º
Review, critique, be constructive, you know the drill. Be hard on me please, I will NOT get offended at all. And remember, please do not include your suspicions on what's going on with the whole forest thing or Draco. I'd like people to figure it out by themselves. Thanks.
If you want to know the status of this story, read the A/N at the beginning of the chapter.
Review points:
What sucked? What can I improve upon? Etc.
What would you like to see more of?
Is Draco enough of a bastard or does he need to be more…bastard-y?
What were the strong points?
Anything else you want to note.
Cheers.
--Raven
********EDIT: 1/14/04: READ. NOW. PLEASE.********
Wow. Usually I wouldn't do this, but can you be even MORE stupid? If it's a Draco/Hermione story, which the summary says fairly obviously, then why would I make it a Draco/Harry slash??? WHY? Why don't you put some actual *thought* into the process of reading this story instead of assuming everything right off the bat. I'm not THAT bad of a writer, so not everything is going to be blatantly set in front of you on a silver platter.
Please, people, calm down. Homosexuality is not the wrath of Satan, you WILL live. Try to see the humor in the situation instead of going "EWEWEWEWEWEWOMGOMG BOIS R KISSINGGGG!!!!!!1111" It's life, people. Deal with it. If it's so totally horrifying to you, so horrifying, in fact, that it is the only aspect of the story you comment on, then you really need to get out more. And obviously something weird is going on since this is NOT Draco/Harry slash…..so as I said, maybe *think*? Hmm.
Ok, I've been mean and bitchy now, so I'll stop. Please accept my humble apologies for my rantiness. You know I love you all. ^^ (Well, most of you, anyway) I just had to get this out of my system, lest I lose readers to their misperceptions. -__- And not all of this applies to everyone…some it doesn't apply to at all. And those people I commend.
In conclusion, show some maturity and half a wit. …And forgive me for bitching.
Anyway. I've already started on the next chapter, so expect it some time in late January or early Febuary.