A/N: Okay, that was quite a strong reaction about Ron, I apologize. Just keep reading, I won't say any more then that. And please review it, because not many reviewed the last part yet again and it really discourages me. And for those of you who have been, thanks, the more reviews the faster I get it up...
Okay, I have nothing more to say, I have too much homework and I have to go decorate for Halloween. This is going to be ten parts in total by the way! Enjoy ^_^
Hermione wiped her forehead, feeling extremely...scared. She could be in mortal peril, then at least she knew what was happening. She could hurt herself, then she could feel the pain. Hell, she could see her best friend have his soul sucked away, then she could at least cry and mourn and feel wretched about it! But to have no control over her emotions...
Draco was faring little better. He kept getting angry and then happy and then sad...but nothing of more depth then that. As they edged farther from the castle (a task in itself as every once in while Draco would sink up to his neck in water), Hermione felt control seeping back into her, mostly regret, pain, loss, and sadness. Still, being able to feel what she actually felt was a relief.
"This is pointless," said Hermione suddenly. "There's only one way to get out of here that might even conceivably work, and it probably wouldn't work anyway."
"What's that?" said Draco.
"I have to get scared. Not just scared...petrified beyond belief...I have to have such strong feelings, that I just wouldn't be capable of them in a dream."
"What about Weasley?"
"That doesn't work," said Hermione coldly, "Because I know he's gone in my mind, but my heart's still telling me he's alive. It's surreal, and therefore I'm not yet grieving, only feeling sad."
Draco sighed, "I'd hate to see you when you're grieving."
"Don't make light of this," whispered Hermione, "I may not believe it but I still know it's true."
"So what do you want to do? Go back there and go up to Voldemort?" scoffed Draco, "'Scuse me but I need to be scared a lot...could you just use Avada Kedavra on me if it's not to much trouble...or maybe you'd just like to put me under the Crustacius curse so that I'm in so much pain that I wake up..."
"Very funny," said Hermione sardonically. "Hilarious, really."
Draco's smirk faded and he plastered on a sullen grimace, "We need to talk."
Hermione sighed, "I know..."
"I...well, I mean...about what happened..." Draco took a deep breath, and chastised himself, "I think it was a mistake. An impulse. Whatever you want to call it," he said numbly. But Hermione couldn't help but notice that his words didn't seem to meet his eyes.
She knew she should have felt relief maybe, or anger, or just surprise...but not disappointment. Hermione pursed her lips, trying to push it back inside her, convincing herself that it was nothing more then annoyance. Yes, that was it...
"Oh," she said softly. Brilliant, she thought to herself, really excellent response...
Draco swallowed nervously, his pale face uncomfortable and trying. Hermione seemed satisfied, so leave well enough alone...
For now. He could leave it for now.
"Draco, what's that?" Hermione said suddenly, pointing at back towards the castle. Draco glanced quickly where she was pointing.
"Raefors and dementors," he said absently, almost casually. Hermione strained her eyes, and suddenly she could see as if a magnifying lense was across her face. Two dementors poised atop raefors who looked as if they were grazing in the field.
"What's the point of the raefors?"
Draco shrugged, "See those claws, and the shadowy bodies? Dementors can enter your dreams, but no dream can duplicate their taking of your soul and the way they suck away your happiness. But the raefors can. They use those claws to grasp your dreams and trap you in your sleep, and then they can slink through your mind because they're made of shadow." He said all of this is as if it was a plain fact of life that Hermione should have known.
"That's horrible...preying on people when they're asleep! No one deserves that," said Hermione angrily.
"Yeah, nasty things, those raefors are," said Draco.
Hermione leaned forward a bit, "What are they doing? Do they eat and drink?"
Draco gave a hollow laugh, "I except so. Just like dementors do. They drink fear and feed on sadness."
"They look as if they're eating grass, or drinking this..." she glanced around her at the now sparse silvern puddles, "...water."
"We both know that this isn't water," Draco pointed off.
"Well, yes I know that. But it makes me feel better to call it water until I know what it really is," said Hermione hurriedly.
Draco was silent, staring at the raefors. "Hermione..." he breathed, "Look..."
Hermione whirled around and saw the entire ground beneath her turn a blinding white. It was as if she'd been plunged through ice, then fire, then splashed with wind. There was a puff of smoke as the dementors rode away, so many different colors at once. Hermione felt sick just looking at it, and more then that she felt great anger, extreme jealousy (though she didn't know what of), a tinge of fear and sadness, admiration for so many others and a wanting so intense that it filled her. Each emotion rolled through her like a wave breaking on the sand, and she was left drained, listening to the silence of the night.
"Hermione!" said Draco's voice over her, sounding frantic. "Snap out of it!"
Hermione rubbed her head, "What happened?" she asked groggily.
"You just started being all weird, and you looked furious and then really sad and then all bloody scared and..." Draco breathed in, "Damn it, Hermione, you scared the hell out of me!"
Hermione winced, realizing that she was kneeling on the ground, "I feel nauseous."
Draco knelt down next to her, "Don't do that crap, you really scared me," he said with a softened look.
"I didn't mean to," said Hermione reproachfully, "it just sort of...happened."
"What I want to know is what happened," muttered Draco.
"I'm tired," said Hermione distractedly.
"How?"
Hermione looked at him, "I don't know. Oh," she said, her eyes widening, "I feel more awake now."
"This is just getting weird," said Draco.
"And I just don't get it," finished Hermione dejectedly, as she was not used to not getting things. It made her feel empty and useless. She looked right at Draco, and then tilted her head to the side, looking past him. "What's that?" she said curiously, craning her neck for a better look. Draco turned around to see bubbles coming from the water where the dementors had been. And for some reason, he had to get closer. He took off.
"Don't go away," he mumbled, sprinting along the grass and water, his legs pumping, not knowing if he was talking to Hermione or to the bubbles that were quickly popping...No, not popping, just sinking beneath the surface.
Draco sunk onto his knees and dipped his hand into the liquid. It burned. It burned him so badly that he couldn't scream or cry or do anything but sit there, his skin peeling in the intense pain, and stare. Biting his lip, he wrenched his hand out. It wasn't wet. And he remembered...
"Hermione, come here," he said tersely.
Hermione walked over cautiously, as if Draco would suddenly sprout fangs and declare himself a vampire. She chuckled at the thought. "Yeah?"
Draco brought his hand from beneath his robes and showed it to her. Hermione winced, "You got burned," she said.
"Sharp, Hermione. So sharp I'm surprised you didn't cut yourself," Draco replied sarcastically. "I got burned by water."
"This...stuff...burned you? But I touched it before and I didn't get burned. Did you...did you get wet?"
Draco shook his head, "No."
Hermione took his hand and turned it over. She gently ran one finger over the surface. And she dropped it, uttering a low murmur.
"What's this?" she said nervously, "You don't feel...you're not..."
Draco thrust her an irritated glare.
"You don't feel like you," Hermione said dully, looking at him through suspicious and watery eyes.
Draco sneered, "And pray tell, who do I feel like?"
Hermione took a deep breath, "Ron. You feel like Ron."
"I hate to disappoint you, but Weasley's gone," said Draco coolly, his eyes burning behind their cold, clear exterior.
"Draco, I'm not just saying this, I mean it...you don't feel like you," said Hermione in a breathy voice. Draco looked at her curiously as she edged closer to him, clasping his hand in hers again. "It's like I'm touching him..."
"I'm not," said Draco quietly, "I'm me."
Hermione shook her head, leaning closer to him, but said, "I know..."
And she pressed her lips softly to his. Draco wanted to grab her wrists, he wanted to kiss her back with all his feelings and wanting and force...
But he didn't. He pushed back and broke away. "You're not doing that to me," he said, his voice shaking, "You're doing it for Weasley."
Hermione stared at him, and then broke down sobbing, "I don't know what I'm doing anymore! I don't know, I don't know..."
Draco sighed, "It's okay..."
"It's not okay," whimpered Hermione, "I'm hurting you, I'm hurting myself, everything's just gone all horrible and I don't know what to do or where to go. I've never felt so lost. Lost in my own thoughts!"
"I don't know what to do," said Draco, looking at his hand. It had turned shiny, but not the raw glow of a burn, more pearlescent and glossy. "I wish I knew just what that liquid is," he said, his voice tinged with ill-ease. "Because I don't feel like myself either. I mean, I do, but there's something else in me that I can't place..."
Hermione looked at him with searching eyes, "What?"
"I...I think it's pity," said Draco beseechingly, as if he didn't want to feel it.
"Oh God..." whispered Hermione sadly, "Why now..."
"I don't like it," said Draco coldly, "It makes me feel sick."
Hermione sighed, "Most people feel pity, Draco. I feel it now."
"For yourself, or for Weasley?"
"For you. I pity you just for that reason. Because you've never before felt it, and that's sad. Everyone should feel pity," said Hermione. She suddenly stopped speaking, and froze. "Let's move," she whispered.
"Move?" asked Draco, never the less still taking up a quick pace in the other direction.
"What's this?" gasped Hermione, stopping in her tracks. There was a thin, translucent, pale blue line, hovering in front of them. It shimmered dully as Hermione turned around and saw that it didn't end everywhere, making a complete circle around the castle, as far as the eye could see. She took out the wand and tapped it. The wand let off a puff of cold, thick smoke, and Hermione let it drop from the ground. It began to tremble as though it were alive, and suddenly a sharp crack split through its center. Sawdust and bits of feather fell onto the ground. Hermione picked it up again, breathing rapidly.
"Told you there was loads of traps," said Draco.
Hermione held up the wand in disbelief, "Oh, it's going to be ever so hard to use now. Just think, that could have been us. That crack could be right down your stomach," she shivered, "And you wouldn't be spilling sawdust..."
Draco grimaced, "Pleasant imagery, Hermione."
"How are we getting past?" said Hermione, examining the line with her eyes.
"Go under it," suggested Draco.
"No, that won't work, I'm sure it makes a wall beneath it...but over..." She took the wand and with the lightest of touches tapped the air over the line. "Nothing," she said smugly.
"I'm not quite athletic," Draco began, his confident air wavering.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "From you of all people! You're a wizard, I'm a witch, and we have a wand!"
"Oh, right," said Draco, not blushing but indeed turning a light shade of pink, "Mind, it's probably a very broken wand..."
"It'll have to do," said Hermione with false confidence, rasing an eyebrow.
"Libero," said Draco unconvincingly, laying just one finger on the wand. Hermione's stomach gave a funny jolt as her feet softly left the ground.
"This is lovely," she said in a croaky voice. "Really, lovely..."
Draco bit his lip. He might have been just a bit nervous, but he had to stay collected. "It's quite a safe spell, there's no harm at all," he said slowly.
Hermione nodded agreeably, her hand clasped over the wand so hard that it hurt. The air seemed to be lightening under her feet, as if it couldn't quite support her weight. "Oh God..no, not now..." mumbled Hermione, clutching the wand even harder. Her foot slipped from the solid feel it had on the air. She felt her breath catch, and her and Draco crashed onto the ground, landing in a heap.
Draco shook his head, not even having the time to enjoy his complete entanglement in Hermione. "S'pose I didn't say the spell loud enough," he mumbled weakly.
Hermione glanced around. Then she stared. "Oh no..."
"What are those? And what's so 'oh no' about them?" asked Draco skeptically.
Above them, were about five hundred electric blue pixies, all pulling horrible faces and making twirls in the air. A couple of them swooped down menacingly, as Hermione ducked nervously out of the way. Draco seemed to find the whole thing very amusing.
"It's not funny!" Hermione insisted choppily as she dove to the ground again, avoiding one who kept pulling her hair. "They're really nasty."
"I'm petrified," drawled Draco.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow, "I dealt with about twenty of them a couple of years ago. They wreaked havoc and thrust Neville out the window by his ears!"
Draco grinned broadly, "I would have loved to see that."
One of the pixies had landed on the ground and was whistling and chirping shrilly. The others were all gathering around it, looking mutinous.
"This is really scary, Hermione. What if I were to step on the lot of them right now?" said Draco, advancing on the pixies.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "You're welcome to try. But it won't do you any good." She shook her finger as one sank its tiny fangs into her. It flew off looking dazed.
"My father's really slipping in the security department," sighed Draco. "Next, there will be some lovely kittens that will claw you to death, or else act upon your allergies..."
"They did manage to knock us out of the air," replied Hermione, her fear slowly ebbing away into frustration.
"I wasn't prepared or I doubt they could have," said Draco, brushing one out of his hair and looking suddenly furious. "Stop it," he growled, trying to slick his hair back into place, "Slimy little bugger..."
"See? They're really dreadful. Be careful or they just might rip your hair out," Hermione quipped with an air of annoyance. "Honestly, to think you still care about your appearance at a time like this." Her eyes shifted to the crowd of pixies on the ground. For a moment, Hermione debated just grabbing Draco and dragging him away, but that would get them no where. They'd need to do the spell again, and pixies were far faster then people.
"Ouch!" she yelped, as a pixie grabbed her ear. "Get off!"
"Hermione, just flick it away," said Draco, doing just that. The pixie trembled with rage and turned a hot shade of pink. Ten others immediately surrounded it, and Draco was lifted clear off the ground. He swallowed heavily and began to flail about in the air. The pixies felt like fire wherever they touched him, and he could hear their mad giggles and squeaks above all else. Hermione was looking very strange, her face a blend of smugness and terror. Draco didn't see what was so terrifying, except for the fact that they might fly hundreds of feet into the air and then drop him. Wait, he thought sullenly, that would be pretty terrifying...
"Don't struggle, Draco, just give me a moment to..." she broke off as several pixies seized her as well. "Oh, let go of me you horrid little..." Hermione began angrily, kicking her feet. Draco smirked in spite of himself.
In a rush of thought, Hermione realized that the pixies were not just torturing her aimlessly. They seemed to be soaring across the landscape, everything going by beneath in blurs of color and shape. If there wasn't a searing pain in her head, it would have been a wonderful feeling, floating above the entire world with nothing out of reach...
"Do we have a destination?" she heard Draco yell angrily.
Hermione managed to turn her head slightly and look at him. "I think so," she said softly, knowing he couldn't hear her. Her head was pounding so much that she felt as if it might explode at any moment. She saw a few pixies zooming ahead, and scattering over the vast expanse of the grounds, their pointed faces scanning below.
She felt their clawed hands loosen on her hair and skin, the pinches slightly less sharp. One of them trilled a long note and Hermione's stomach leapt into her throat. Everything began to grow bigger as they dropped steadily downwards. "No," breathed Hermione, words utterly failing her. Circling beneath her were the dementors and raefors, all looking up into the black night, awaiting their prey. After all this, were they just going to end up as lost souls, death not even a fit enough toll? Hermione pulled out Ron's wand, searching her mind for a happy memory or thought.
She tried to think of the Yule Ball, when she'd genuinely felt pretty and popular. And then she thought of Ron, furious that she'd gone with Viktor. She thought of how she felt when she'd been accepted into Hogwarts, and learned that she was a witch! But then, that wasn't happiness, it was more like shock. She winced, and tried to think of how well she'd always done on her exams. But after all the fuss she made, it really didn't make her happy, just...pleased, satisfied perhaps. She just couldn't remember anything...she was already feeling the now familiar way the cold washed over her, like water. She didn't know what to do.
"Draco!" she said, meaning to yell but only slurring her words quietly.
Draco looked at her, his face a deadly white. "Yeah?" he mouthed back.
Hermione held up the wand, "Catch." She gathered all her strength and tossed the wand towards Draco. She could feel her thoughts ebbing away into nothingness.
Draco made a clumsy dive for the wand, while still being supported by the pixies. They all looked angry and dangerous as they gave him a sharp yank to keep him aloft. Hermione saw Draco pocket the wand and straighten himself in resolve. The pixies continued to lower, until their feet hit the ground.
Hermione collapsed on the spot. She knew why the dementors were affecting her with such force. They showered you with sorrow, and sucked away any joy. And at that moment, she was feeling such sadness that she could swear she'd drown in it. Draco managed to remain standing, but wavered quite a lot.
The pixies all giggled and then flew off, their tiny wings beating all about and lighting the dark sky. Like stars...
"Funny sight," Draco mused, turning to Hermione and kneeling over her. "You alright?"
"No," replied Hermione stiffly, curling herself up more. "And I'm not doing any disappearing act again. I don't care anymore."
Draco sighed, "Me either. What was that again...expecto patronum?" He raised the wand and brought it swishing down. Nothing happened. The dementors were slowly crowding about. Draco had a sense of deja-vu. Think, he told himself, think of something happy. He willed himself to search as far back as he could remember, blocking out all else. And then it hit him.
He didn't need to search far back. Because he had one happy memory now, however short, abrupt or small. Hermione.
Just Hermione, that she made him act differently. With her, he didn't need to be all horrible, he didn't need to poke fun at everyone different them him, and he didn't need to say loads of crap that he didn't mean. He didn't need to act superior, he didn't need to be hateful and spiteful and cruel...
"Expecto patronum!" Draco screamed, bringing his wand down with all the force he could muster. Vaguely, he saw something vast and silver shoot from the end of his wand. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was some sort of creature, slithering, but not a snake...
It herded the dementors away, until Draco felt warmth spreading back into his body, even in the coldness of the air. He breathed a sigh of relief, and the patronus faded away in a wisp of smoke. Draco rushed to Hermione.
"Snap out of it," he said urgently, shaking her.
Hermione rolled over, "Am I dead?" she said dully, "Because I doubt I could have gotten out of that alive. I really don't feel very dead. I feel alive and tired."
"You're not dead," snapped Draco, "Honestly, don't you have any faith in me?"
"You told me before that you couldn't make a patronus," replied Hermione defensively.
Draco smiled at her, "That was before I knew you," he said lightly.
Hermione blushed deeply, "Tell me, what would have happened if Harry had come here after all," she said quietly.
Draco gave a small twitch and then said, "He would have been killed."
Hermione shuddered, "But how?"
Draco rolled his eyes, "Why are you asking me this now? Er...I had to get it to him, and then when he fell asleep, if you will...then he'd be here. I might add that he would've been inside the castle, since I might have been prepared," he looked at Hermione with a bit of a grin. "And then, I would have gone on being horrible all my life, Voldemort would have taken over, and Potter would have been dead."
"That's terrible," said Hermione wonderingly.
"And the worst..." continued Draco dramatically, "Would have been that we'd never have become friends."
Hermione smirked, "Right, like that's what made you conjure a patronus. Somehow, I was thinking more along the lines of..."
"Don't even say it, however pleasant it might be to me. And you might as well know that you just ruined the one time in my life that I was all poetic and sensitive," said Draco testily, giving her a wicked smile that made him look just like his father.
Hermione was tempted to turn away, the resemblance was so strong, but she just cocked an eyebrow at him in response. Draco looked at her, as if trying to tell her something. But she couldn't read his eyes, she couldn't tell what he was saying...
"So what's next?" he said.
"I don't know. Maybe we should just kick in the bucket," said Hermione dejectedly.
"Now that's a good way to solve all problems," said Draco amicably. He lowered his voice and continued, "No, we're just going to keep trying. After all, I'm a Malfoy and we never give up. What's more, we never fail."
Hermione looked at him sourly, "There's always a first time for everything."
Harry flipped open his text and began to scribble down his essay for Potions. He simply had to do well, Snape would be more then happy to fail him for the least mistake. But his head felt heavy, as if something was missing.
"Wonder where Ron and Herm are?" he said lightly, blotting his sentence. He vaguely recalled seeing Hermione...but where had it been? She'd been asleep, hadn't she? He felt groggy and unaware again. He had a memory, as if something had happened and then time had reeled backwards leaving it as if a dream. Harry leaned back, again letting his thoughts drift to Ron and Hermione. His head hurt...or was that his scar? He felt like something terrible had just happened...
Sinking back into the pouf, his head cleared suddenly, and all he could recall was the faint image of Hermione...she was yelling...but not moving...was she asleep?
He dozed off.
"So we escaped the dementors," said Draco, "But we didn't escape those pixies, really. As soon as we make another break for it, they're going to grab us by the ears again and..." he snapped his fingers, "We'll be no better off then we are now."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "I think I have an idea."
"D'you usually have good ideas?" said Draco hopefully.
"I have absolutely brilliant ideas, what else?" Hermione said sarcastically, "I don't know! I suppose most of my ideas are alright."
"Right then, let's hear it," Draco folded his arms expectantly.
Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Not here."
"And why not?"
"I just have a sense that we're...we're not alone," said Hermione, her voice scarcely above a whisper. She grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him over to patch of forest. It was here, that she'd seen the raefors drinking. She looked at the water, expecting her reflection. She must look an awful mess, she realized sullenly, in her dressing robes and nightgown. With a gasp, she pulled back and shrieked.
Draco clamped his hand over her mouth and held a finger urgently to his lips. "What was that for? You just told me to stuff it, and now you're screaming your head off!" He cautiously took his hand away as Hermione sank down, breathing in gasps.
"I looked, and I saw...it was..." she mumbled, nervously licking her lips, "I didn't see my reflection. I saw..."
Draco peered curiously downwards and opened his mouth in surprise. He backed away a bit, resolving not to be scared. "Weasley?" he said, not daring to make a statement out of it.
Hermione nodded, "And don't go on haranguing my about how I see him everywhere. Because I swear his face was there, all colorful and real..." she gave a sigh, her mind drifting into remembrance of bygone days.
"No," said Draco shortly, "I wasn't going to. I saw it to, right there."
"Oh no," breathed Hermione, "We're both cracking up."
"We are not," snapped Draco, "And so much as I'd enjoy teasing you endlessly about seeing Weasley's face wherever you go, I won't. And that's for two reasons, mind. First, because it's not remotely amusing to me anymore, in light of certain...events, " he cleared his throat as Hermione blushed. "And second, because that would really be like saying that I see his fat head everywhere as well, and then I'd be rather..." Hermione sniggered accordingly. "Which I am not," Draco added with a flourish.
"If you'd said that a week ago I'd have said you were a liar," said Hermione swiftly. Draco glared at her. "Now then," she continued, as if what she'd said was absolutely normal and not in the least insulting, "Why do we see Ron?" She pursed her lips and then said importantly, "I expect I'm going mental. But what about you..."
"Hermione, you're not a nutter any more then I am. This liquid can't be water. Don't you see? You saw Ron in it, when I touched it I felt like Ron to you, and furthermore we can walk on it," he paused and then corrected himself, "You can walk on it. I can walk on sometimes, and rather shakily at that."
"So what is it?" Hermione pressed on.
Draco shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe it changes you into someone else?"
"A load of help that was. Why bring something up if you don't know anything about it?"
"I thought maybe you had an idea of..." he trailed off, "What was your idea before anyway?"
"Oh, that. I only thought we could use that spell where we go through things and go through that invisible wall. But I realized it won't work now," she finished, shaking her head.
Draco looked at her curiously, "That's a brilliant idea. Why won't it work?"
"Didn't you see how it affected the wand? If it can hurt inanimate objects, then no simple spell will put it out."
"How do you know for sure?"
Hermione gave him an aggravated stare, "I don't. But if you really want to go and find out, I suppose trial and error would work," she waved a hand at the thin blue line that was almost invisible against the black sky.
"Point well taken," said Draco.
"I really wish I'd something other then my nightclothes on," sighed Hermione.
Draco nodded, "Something in the form of a tight, leather skirt and..."
"Quit while your ahead." She suddenly narrowed her eyes and glanced around, "And yet again. Do you feel it?"
"Feel what?" said Draco suspiciously.
"This-this feeling. Like we're being watched. Like there's someone here with us."
"There's no one here, look around you," said Draco bracingly, waving a hand casually about.
Hermione looked unconvinced, "They might be invisible."
"You really think someone's here?" said Draco, sounding slightly unnerved. "Y'know, you can sense things that I can't now..."
"I sense something is..." Hermione broke off and then steadied herself, "Drawing near. It's not a dementor, but I feel...I feel cold."
Draco looked thoroughly uneasy by now. "Concentrate," he said numbly.
Hermione shut her eyes and breathed in, holding her breath. Even something a simple as breathing takes space up in your mind, and Hermione had to have nothing clouding her thoughts, nothing but the very essence of what she was doing. With a gasp, she turned to Draco, "I know who'd here..."
She wrenched herself forward, but felt cold hands against her neck.
"What I'd like to know," said Lucius' voice, "Is how a mudblood got out of that deathtrap alive."
"Just let her be," growled Draco. "Why did it take you so long to find us anyway? Losing your touch?" He smirked sardonically.
Lucius did not show the slightest sign of having heard his son, but instead grinned almost mechanically, "We've had this discussion too many times. Let's be done with it right now." He turned to Hermione, "You still won't repent?"
Hermione swallowed, "No," she choked out, feeling his grip tightening on her throat.
"Very well then," Lucius smirked, reaching into his robes. He reached deep into one pocket, then the other, cursing under his breath. She chanced a glance at Draco, who was fumbling with the wand. In a movement so slick and fast that she barely saw it, he bent down and brushed the wand into the silver liquid. There was a tingling all through her, and the sound of rushing water...or air...she couldn't really tell.
Hermione squelched a cry, as Lucius pulled something shimmery from his pocket. Draco, however, was looking suspiciously calm. For some reason, Hermione had a flash of realization, and at just that moment she elbowed Lucius sharply in the stomach and broke away.
"Good luck," said Draco, breathing fast and handing her the wand.
"You'll need it more," said Hermione softly, staring at him. "Be careful."
"And Hermione," Draco said quickly, "What I said before...about it being a mistake..." He breathed deeply, "It wasn't. That was the one thing in my life that will never be a mistake." Hermione bit her lip, and just as Lucius caught his breath enough to advance on her, she flicked the wand.