Black Glass V - Suspicion
- both of us, sadly ::darker and darker::
A/N : You can recognise the handiwork of yours truly when you see a plot that is going nowhere... Well, just for the record, I'm listening to Runaway Run. One of the best songs I have ever heard! This part of the story... well, I can't really find anything to say about it. :) I've just been dancing. I am going dancing soon. I'm the midget in Hoe Down. I'm like a head shorter than my classmates. My ballet classmates, that is. I'm taller than most of the girls in my class at school.
A/N 2 : I went dancing just now, and I dislocated my knee. Now I can't dance in the concert... Grr... it's happened 3 times in the past year. I'm not kidding. And it's my last concert, too! ::wails:: Yup, I'll have to quit... can't have my knee dislocating 3 times a year... but I love dancing in concerts! Drat... ::consoles herself with the thought of book 4, which will not be arriving until "7-21 business days" are up... dammit:: Ironic. Sob.
A/N 3 : Well, back to my story, strange stuff just kept creeping in... the bit about Draco and cologne was just screaming to be put in. My knee may have had something to do with it. ::glances at it angrily:: I must've taken Ponstan... because I'm talking like a nut. I can't stop talking, man. It doesn't hurt at all... ::grins loopily:: Yup, it must be the medication... I have been spelling "McGonagall something" as "McGonagall Something"... ::sings along to "MMMBop":: I can't stop talking! HELP! I apologise for boring you... And yes, I go cross-eyed whenever I'm over-shocked. Tom Riddle haunts me...
Disclaimer : All these lovely people belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling, whom I shall forever envy. Book 4 is coming! YES!
'Hermione!' Draco caught up with her as she walked along the corridor. She turned with a half-smile, greeting him.
'I'm going to meet Harry and Ron, Draco. I'd better hurry.' But despite herself she fell into step with him as he took her hand. 'What's wrong?'
'Just wanted to say hello,' he retorted, grinning. 'Does Weasley know?'
'No,' Hermione admitted. 'I'm afraid to tell him.' She brushed her hair away from her face. 'Come on, Draco, you've been teasing me about him too much.'
'He does rather moon over you, doesn't he?' Draco teased. 'But on a more serious side, Hermione - you know I received a letter at breakfast -'
'Yes,' Hermione said doubtfully.
'It was from Father. He seems to have found out - about us. And he doesn't like it.' Draco gave a short laugh. 'He doesn't like it! It was positively scathing! He didn't dare send me a Howler, because he 'wouldn't want to embarrass me'... but he's threatened to do something terrible if - if I don't stop seeing you.'
'Will you?' Hermione said softly, looking at him. He wasn't much taller than she was, but she had a way of looking up that made him feel strange.
'Oh, Hermione... I don't know. He could do all kinds of things to both of us. Your family in particular.' Draco's eyebrows knit with worry. 'You haven't seen him angry before, Hermione... but I don't want to lose you...' His voice sounded afraid, and something in Hermione reached out to him. She had never known that he could feel before.
Taking his face in both her hands, she told him softly, 'It doesn't matter, Draco. You'll be all right. I promise.'
'You think so?' he tried to joke, shivering as she smoothed his silvery hair, reaching out to put his arms around her. She touched her lips to his, and as the kiss deepened they heard a cough behind them and shuffling footsteps. Draco turned hurriedly, but there was no one there. He turned back to Hermione.
'We'd better go,' she whispered.
'Um... okay.'
'I'll see you again tonight,' Hermione told him, and disappeared around the corner; Draco, with a last glance at her, sped off the other way.
In the shadows that the half-open classroom door cast, Pansy Parkinson leant her head against the wall as a tear trickled down her cheek.
'Where've you been?' Ron asked inquisitively as Hermione walked into the common room, a faint flush on her face.
'Nowhere,' Hermione replied, just a little too quickly.
'Hmmm.' Ron motioned for her to take a seat. 'Harry's gone to get something, he'll be back soon... Hermione, I want to talk to you. You've been acting strange.'
'Have I?' she said, just a little too flatly.
'Yeah.' Ron's mouth set stubbornly. 'I want to know what's wrong.'
Hermione sighed, running her fingers through her hair, and sat down. 'Nothing, Ron.'
'Then why do you smell of cologne?' Ron asked, his face suspicious. Hermione realised with horror that Draco must be wearing cologne.
God, why did I ever kiss him, Hermione reflected. She grinned to herself.
'Hermione...'
Harry interrupted by entering the common room. His unruly black hair was even messier than usual, and his face was rather flushed. Hermione wondered briefly why, and then thanked her lucky stars that Harry had interrupted. She didn't want either of them knowing what she was up to with Draco. Walking over to greet him, she left a puzzled Ron in his seat.
'Is that cologne?' Harry inquired. Hermione groaned. It was going to be a long day.
Harry bumped into Draco walking down the corridor to ask Professor McGonagall something for a very tired and harassed-looking Hermione. He was looking at his feet, pacing one... two... and wham, he slammed hard into black cloth and silvery eyes. The pale boy jumped back and stared, then dusted off his robes. 'Really, Potter, don't tell me you can't even watch where you're going now. Continuous hero-syndrome wears down the senses. Apparently.'
Harry glared at him. 'Shut up, Malfoy. I'm going to ask Professor McGonagall something for Hermione,' he said. 'She's not feeling well.' This last was said with a cold glare straight into Draco's grey eyes.
Draco's pale face flushed a little, so that a little normal colour came into it. 'Well, allow me to be on my way,' he said lightly. 'And, Potter? Do get some decent glasses.'
Harry began to walk away, then thought better of it and came back. Grabbing a handful of Draco's robes, he demanded, 'You're not telling me something.'
Caught off guard, Draco went cross-eyed for a brief moment, then stared at Harry. 'What's the matter, Potter?' he asked. 'You wanted to hear the bit about looking scruffy enough to pass off as an Azkaban prisoner?'
'No,' Harry said menacingly. 'I want to know what you're doing with Hermione.'
The peaked face paled suddenly, so that its owner appeared, for a minute, bloodless. Draco blinked. 'What?' he asked, his voice containing more than a tinge of suspicion.
'You know what I mean,' Harry said, coolly disregarding Draco's attempts to wrench himself free. 'She's been acting strange. Very strange. And I just realised she smells of your cologne.' He wrinkled his nose. He had to admit, it suited the pale boy, what with those designer jeans and black turtleneck sweaters that showed off his silver-blond hair... 'What've you been doing, kissing her or something?' Draco's face went even paler, and Harry groaned. 'What - you mean you've actually...'
'It really isn't any of your business, Potter.' Draco finally managed to get his robes out of Harry's hands, and glanced down at their crumples distastefully. 'But...' A note of curiosity crept into his voice. 'Why do you actually think I've been messing with her?'
'She blushes every time we mention your name. And she keeps calling you Draco.' Harry imitated his friend, glaring all the time at Draco. '"Draco - er, Malfoy - is none of your business, Harry. There is nothing going on." And, as I have just noticed, she...'
'OK,' Draco snapped, cutting Harry off. 'I wear it. So what?'
'Why'd it transfer itself to her? I seriously doubt that Hermione would steal your bottle out of the Slytherin common room just to put it on, Malfoy. So 'fess up.'
'Oh, get away, Potter.' Draco looked as tired and worried as Hermione did. 'It's really nobody's business. Just leave me alone.'
'It is my business,' Harry insisted, glaring at his rival. 'Hermione's my friend.'
'I swear I haven't been harassing her, OK? Now stop bothering me and leave me alone.' For the first time Harry realised that Draco was carrying an envelope unobtrusively flat against his side. 'I want to see the professor as well.' Harry noticed again that his hair was rather over-long. 'You can go first. That way, you'll be gone earlier.'
Minerva glanced away from the slender teenager sitting on her desk insolently for a moment to look through the suspicious-looking that she had confiscated from the Weasley twins. 'Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,' she said, putting the bag in a closet. 'What seems to be the problem?' The student was looking rather pale, cold, almost, showing that autumn's end was near. Even with that damn pair of designer jeans. He twisted a lock of hair away from the corner of his eye, his fingers moving restlessly. She'd never seen him this uncomfortable before.
'I received this letter, Professor.' He held it out blindly, the green ink standing out from the slightly brownish parchment. Minerva took it in her hands, giving the boy a sharp glance. 'Rather unusual for a sixteen-year-old, don't you think?'
'What's this?' She scrutinised the ink, bright green with hints of silver. 'Draco,' it read. 'I have been thinking over your case, and I want to ask you once again to join our side... the consequences to the entire school - or the entire wizarding world - could be dire - and you could share in the profit, you know...' The professor gasped. The letter seemed to have a strange magic in it. Written by one she knew well. At each word she could almost see him smiling, using his hands to make a point... in short, it was painful.
'So he haunts you too.' The words startled her, and she whirled around to see that Draco had slid gracefully off the table and was walking towards her. 'Yes, he does have that effect in print. He sent my father a Howler for a joke last hols... you wouldn't have wanted to see it.'
Minerva read the whole letter through. It was, no doubt, from Tom Riddle - sounded so like him. He wanted Draco to join him. Join them. Rule the world. The usual... Voldemort was nearing his end. Apparently even he feared that Potter would be the death of him... He wanted Draco to replace him. And... Something struck a chord in the professor's mind. What was this about ending a romance?
'I want you to stop with that idiot of a Mudblood,' the boy had written. 'Really, Draco, I'd have expected you to have better taste. Your father and I are not pleased. This Granger scum is not worth looking at. If you don't stop meeting her, you can be sure she'll be the first to die...'
'What does he mean?' Minerva demanded of the shaking boy at her shoulder. 'Is he talking about Hermione? Have you been meeting her?'
Instantly Draco became his own rude self. 'Really, Professor, I think it has nothing to do with you.'
'But you have been seeing her.' It was a statement, not a question, and Draco didn't try to deny it. He looked straight at his teacher, handing her the envelope as well.
'Yes, and I think Potter's onto me.'
Surprising him and herself as well, Minerva hugged him briefly. He pulled away awkwardly, but Minerva couldn't help guessing that he was glad of her support, and really frightened as well. Frightened of the dark that threatened to consume him...
'Don't worry,' she said briskly, hiding her own pain. 'It's been very good of you to come to us with it. Don't worry, it'll be all right. I'll consult Dumbledore...' But listening to her empty reassurances, Draco felt as though he were spiralling downwards into the dark.
Harry glanced back at his own footsteps in the light frost that covered the Quidditch pitch, thinking hard. He just wanted to get away from it all. Holding the Firebolt tightly, he walked to the centre of the pitch, letting the nipping wind blow his already untidy hair into a state that Hermione would have called outrageous.
Rather, she would have called Draco outrageous.
With a sigh, Harry let his thoughts spiral into the wind. Hermione having some sort of get-up with Draco... Draco, a primal fear on his icy, aristocratic features that Harry had never seen before... Ron's suspicion at the two of them, bordering on jealousy. He mounted and pushed off, jetting up into the sky, letting the speed take away all the needless tension that he'd been collecting from Hermione. In a strange flash he realised that he harboured this strange twisted affection for Draco, a kind of bond that they shared in the midst of rivalry.
Draco is a good Seeker, Harry realised, turning his broom sharply. It obeyed his every command. He often did this to relax, because he could feel something creeping up on him that wasn't exactly pleasant. He's nimble and speedy too - but, well, his heart's not really in it. Harry wondered what Draco really was interested in. Other than Hermione, of course, he thought to himself. The boy always looked so dispassionate.
He swooped across to the other side, pretending to see the Snitch. What the heck. He began to dive, his favourite action. Swooping down to earth, he didn't notice the two people hurrying out of the pitch at his arrival. One with elegantly messy blond hair and the other with perfect, in-place brown hair. Neither did he see them hurry into the gardens to sit under a tree near the lake.
Hermione shivered pleasantly as Draco's lips grazed her neck. They sat under a rather spreading tree, alone... except for the giant squid, of course, which was waving its tentacles. Draco had something to tell her... She intended to ask him about the entire cologne business, but forgot about it.
'I received a letter from Tom Riddle today,' Draco murmured, resting his cheek on her shoulder.
Protectively she ran her hand over his hair. 'What did he want?'
Draco's tone hardened. 'Oh, the usual... he wants me to stop seeing you, turn to the dark side, kill you, Potter and perhaps Weasley, not to mention Dumbledore... attack Hogwarts, take over the world... that's all, really. Nothing to worry about.'
'Come on, Draco, you know we would never let anything like that happen to you.'
'If you can't help it?' Draco asked her, sitting up suddenly and taking her hands. 'If you can't stop him?' His voice was pleading and bitter; he seemed to be very tired. Hermione put an arm around him and forced him to relax onto the tree. 'If you can't stop... me?'
'What do you mean?' she asked him, her throat dry.
'I'm tempted, Hermione, I'm tempted. Wasn't brought up totally power-hungry for nothing, you know...'
'Oh, Draco.' She was at a loss for words. Instead she held him in silence, thoughts spinning through her head like a whirlwind. It had all happened so fast. What with suddenly getting 'involved' with Draco Malfoy, Harry's arch rival, of all people, and having to hide it from him and Ron... and being threatened by the Dark Side...
'He's out to get Harry too,' Draco said suddenly, as though he'd read her mind. 'Wants me to do him in... I don't think I hate him enough. That sucks. But I live with it.' He crossed one slender ankle over the other, and Hermione remembered that he had been called a 'male supermodel' by Parvati Patil once... he certainly was attractive. Silver-blond hair that touched his collar - a pale, peaked face - saucy air. Hermione smiled down at him as he closed his eyes, thinking.
With sitting under a tree, however, during the beginning of winter come freezing limbs, and soon both Draco and Hermione were shivering with cold. Yet they didn't want to return; they wanted to be resting forever, with nothing at all to worry them. They wanted some solitude, as Draco was so fond of saying, they wanted peace and rest. No Tom Riddle. They held on to each other, trying to get warm; Draco told some joke about the inclement weather which made Hermione giggle. She closed her eyes too, her lashes drifting onto her cheeks. It was Draco's turn to hold her then, trying futilely to comprehend why he had fallen in love with a Mudblood, why he had turned his life into such a darned mess. Why he enjoyed it. Enjoyed being normal for a change. Enjoyed actually being in the close company of a Mudblood.
He cradled Hermione closer, looking down at her, and he knew why.
Lucius sat with Tom on a hill near Hogwarts, looking out over that large castle. Tom was playing with a leaf that had floated down from a tall oak, twisting it in his long, thin fingers. Lucius looked at the lake of Hogwarts, the two small, faraway, innocent figures beside it, the other students who ran along the lighted corridors. Soon it would all be his. His brow darkened at the memory of Draco and Hermione. His son had better not disgrace the Malfoy name...
'Lucius,' said Tom, breaking him out of the reverie. 'I have an idea.'
'What's that?' Lucius snapped, thinking of Cecilia, his wife. Had she owled Mrs. Parkinson yet? 'What plan?'
'A cold spell over Hogwarts,' Tom explained, his eyes glinting. 'Snow. Thick, blanketing snow. Delightful if you ask me. I always loved a good snowfall... They'll be dumbfounded, of course. What else? Ah well... let's get to it. Freezing. All have to stay inside. Perhaps we can even hope for a good spell of illness. Speed up winter a little.'
Lucius had to acknowledge that it was a good idea. 'Ready,' he said, raising his wand.
Tom raised his hands, as he needed no wand - he was very powerful. He and Lucius began to mutter the incantation, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Bolts of light shot from them and surrounded the castle, creating a kind of cloudy fog. And then it began to snow.
As the two prepared to Apparate away back to someplace warm, Lucius dimly saw the two figures begin to stir.
Draco stirred in dreams... he'd fallen asleep again. It was cold. He was trudging through black shimmery stuff... it was so cold... cold...
And he woke up covered with a light dusting of freezing snowflakes, still cradling Hermione in his arms. She too was covered loosely in snow, resting on her eyelashes and hair and the tip of her nose.
'Hermione,' said Draco, his voice tremulous with cold, 'it's freezing.' She opened her eyes, shaking off some of the dusty snowfall, looking around with wide eyes.
They stood up slowly, watching snowflakes tumble down softly, huddling for warmth. Hermione's cold hands encircled Draco's neck. He shivered. The lake had abruptly frozen over, and the squid was resting peacefully underneath. The trees were beginning to frost. A strange misty fog was lifting a little. Draco pulled Hermione fully to her feet and, twining his hands in her hair, whispered in her ear, 'We'd better run back to the castle.'
They ran towards the school, then slowed to a walk. It was snowing so hard that they couldn't see. Moving on slowly, Hermione kept her hold on Draco as she stumbled and almost fell. Draco steadied her, then halted. 'Hermione... it's too much. I can't see.'
Slowly her hand came up to touch his face, as though she were a blind girl trying to find out his expression through touch. It wandered over his eyes and nose, then rested over his mouth. Draco kissed her fingers lightly, then took hold of her hand. 'Let's call for help,' Hermione suggested, her voice soft and choked with the cold, squeezing his hand. 'We'll never find our way back.'
'Yes we will,' Draco told her. 'We have to. Or we'll freeze.'
'I'm already frozen,' she muttered softly, allowing Draco to gather her into his arms, warming her slightly. 'Draco - we'll never get back.'
'Anyone out there?' Draco called loudly, coughing. It was too much, this freezing, blinding torture that he was going through. He felt Hermione's hands snaking round his neck, clinging to him. He pressed closer to her. He couldn't see, could hardly move. His whole body was beginning to ache with the cold. Everyone else would be inside the castle... what about classes? It was near the Christmas holidays, and they had been given a little break as the teachers were working in secret on the Tom Riddle case.
There was a light over there! Draco tugged Hermione towards it, both stumbling in the misty snowfall that was chilling them to the bone. It got closer... closer... Draco was sliding on drifts of snow, sinking foot-deep, trying to hold up Hermione as she fell, coughing, and stumbled on. They fell right over on a protruding stump, and the light bobbed further and further away.
Just as they began to give up hope, they fell into a room with wooden boards for the floor and a lamp on a table, colliding hard with a tired, cold Quidditch Seeker...
As the door swung shut on them, Harry and Draco let out a yell. 'Aargh!' Hermione slipped, shivering, her eyes closed, to the cold floor.
A/N : Um... I'm sure you wouldn't want to know what's happening next... it's kinda weird. Oh well, at least I'll be able to cry on command now... I have to act as the victim in a bleep case... and cry as well... :) Well, sorry for taking so long... I had exams, truly! Hope you enjoyed this and didn't mind my blinking chatter, and... please review?