Gahh!! I hate popups! (sorry, spaz)
Hey meat monkeys!
Your reviews made made my day! (I was so happy that I called my guy friend and sang "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" at him until he threatened me with bodily harm.)
I reeeealllly apologize for being lazy and having such short chapters, but...okay, I don't have an excuse. Make up your own. I'm sure it'll be just like one of mine. (only better!)
I'm all um, jittery now cause I just went to Cafe du Monde and had beignets and really scrumptious cafe au lait. Whoa...sugar overload. So expect strange things from this chapter. Or not.
*****
Last Chapter:
Draco flopped into a seat next to the windows, and was preparing to get his sulky brooding face on, when the train rumbled to a halt, and the peaks and pinnacles of a familiar castle filled the view.
They were at Hogwarts.
*****
Disclaimer: *Looks pained* How could you suspect me of stealing from J.K.Rowling (a.k.a. Goddess of All That is Good and HP-Related). Okay, no, the CC's incident was not stealing. I swear, somebody else put those chocolate-covered coffee beans in my purse!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
"The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper."
-Eden Phillpotts
"Come to the edge
He said. They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge
He said. They came.
He pushed them, and
they flew..."
-Guillaume Apollinaire
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
Chapter 6
Hermione had just changed into her school uniform when the train slowed to a stop, signifying their arrival at Hogwarts.
She, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were fighting their way through the crowd to a carriage, when Hermione noticed Professor McGonagell waving frantically in her direction.
"Hermione!" McGonagell shouted. "Over here!" (a/n: Would she use "Hermione" or "Ms. Granger? I couldn't decide.)
Hermione realized that, as Head Girl, she was expected to make the traditional ride to Hogwarts in a carriage with the Head Boy.
Great, she thought glumly. Just what I need right now. A nice ride, in a small, enclosed area, with Draco Malfoy. Isn't my day horrible enough already? Why does Fate mock me so? *Why*?
Draco was already in the carriage when she entered, slumping into a corner, and staring out the window.
She ignored him determinedly and curled into an opposite corner, staring out her own window.
Professor McGonagell was in the carriage with them, seeming a little unsettled. After a few attempts to make conversation (about the weather), and recieving one-word replies from Hermione (and grunts from Draco), she gave up.
They made the trip to Hogwarts- usually a short journey, but this time it seemed much longer- as they rode in grim silence
When they finally arrived, Hermione slid out of the carriage and was about to rejoin her friends in Gryffindor, when Professor McGonagell seized her arm abruptly and pulled her away, dragging Draco with her other hand.
She deposited them just outside the Great Hall, then turned to face them and hissed.
"You two will be seated at the High Table with the professors tonight, so I want to see you behaving! I shouldn't even have to tell you this, but I want you two to be civil to each other. Make conversation, and at least try to *look* like you get along."
Then she swept off, looking furious. Hermione guessed that McGonagell wasn't so sure about the Head Boy and Head Girl arrangements herself. She definitely couldn't see the professor vouching for Draco.
Hermione walked to her seat beside Draco, and sat in stony silence.
Just as everyone was seated, Professor McGonagell brought out an old, tattered wizard's hat. Hermione smiled, remembering her own Sorting 6 years ago.
The Hat sang its song...different, as usual, from the previous year's, and Hermione let her mind wander as the nervous-looking first years were Sorted into their various houses.
(a/n: like I was going to write a rhyming song!)
She hoped that they could speak to Dumbledore soon. She wanted very badly to know what was going on with her and Draco. She wanted to know what a Likaelor was.
Hermione yawned. She wanted some sleep, goddammit!
Too bad Malfoy's not speaking to me, she thought.
But, of course, it's all his fault. Yep. I'm not going to apologize first, that's for sure.
She hoped desperately that they would last the evening without anything exploding.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
Draco sat next to Hermione in stony silence.
He suffered through that stupid Hat's song, then the monotonous Sorting of the first years. After the first 15 minutes, he was fighting to stay awake.
Well, it had been a busy day. What with the exploding and the supernatural winds and the fighting and what-have-you. He was tired.
He occasionally snuck a few furtive glances at Hermione, but she didn't seem inclined to speak to him, even though McGonagell continued to shoot dark looks at them over the table.
Well, he thought. Fine. If she doesn't want to talk, then I won't even try. She was the one who said she never wanted to speak to me again. I'm definitely not going to apologize for something that's her fault, anyways.
Draco slouched a little deeper in his chair and dug into the food that appeared on his plate recklessly.
The rest of the feast went much as the beginning. Apart from a few professors' comments thrown their way, Hermione and Draco sat without speaking.
However, Draco ate plenty, suddenly aware that he hadn't had any food since that morning. He was so busy eating that he doubted that he would have been able to talk to Hermione, had they still been speaking.
Finally, Dumbledore rose from his seat, indicating that the students were free to go. The Great Hall broke up into swarms of Houses, while first year students trickled in more orderly lines behind their prefects.
Hermione and Draco- now miserable with exhaustion- were steered through the hallways by a disgruntled Professor McGonagell.
Draco had no idea whether they were going to their rooms or somewhere else; he just followed McGonagell. They trudged down endless corridors and climbed what Draco estimated to be about 80 thousand flights of stairs, until McGonagell-the-Slave-Driver halted.
Draco leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. They had stopped in front of a large, ornately carved, and familiar entry. Draco had been here at least nine times during his years at Hogwarts. He knew it well.
He, Hermione, and Professor McGonagell were standing in front of Dumbledore's office.
"Blowpop," said McGonagell shortly.
Draco wasn't too tired to leer at the name, though he supposed it was some barbaric type of Muggle candy. Last time he had been here the password had been "Raisinets".
The door swung open to reveal Dumbledore, seated behind his desk, with two chairs pulled up in front of it.
Professor McGonagell ushered them in and slammed the door as she left.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
Hermione warily settled into the chair that Dumbledore motioned her to.
She knew that Harry had been in here loads of times, but she was kind of hoping not to make it too much of a habit.
Once she and Draco were seated, Dumbledore fixed them with a steady gaze.
And watched them.
For what seemed like hours, he examined them carefully, not speaking. Hermione barely dared to breath.
She had the grace to squirm slightly under his unblinking scrutiny, but Draco just stared back, apparently too far gone in the realms of weariness to care.
Finally, Dumbledore (to Hermione's intense relief) leaned back in his seat, and spoke.
"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, Head Girl and Head Boy," he said. "Congratulations on your first day in your new positions. I'm sure that you will be an asset to our school."
He continued, eyes twinkling; "However, that is not what you were brought here tonight to discuss."
Hermione sat up straighter and gave him her whole attention. Maybe Dumbledore already knew what was going on.
"You two are different from most other wizards- both your age and older. I do not speak of your intelligence and maturity, although these are very evident traits in both of you. What I speak of is that, against all odds, you both are living legends."
Draco also seemed to perk up slightly at this.
"You," Dumbledore said, with the air of one who is making a great announcement, "are Likaelors."
Draco let his head drop forward to collide with the desk.
His muffled voice drifted up to Hermione and Dumbledore.
"...after midnight..." he said indistinctly, "..sitting through a feast...walking *miles* to get here...and then you tell us things we already *knew*!"
He raised his head and looked plaintively at Dumbledore.
"I could be sleeping now," he told the Headmaster. "In a bed! Right now!"
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "You already knew that you were a Likaelor?"
"Duh," said Draco. He didn't seem to notice that he was talking to the Headmaster. "How could we not?" he continued scornfully. "I mean, we have the birthmark, don't we? Doesn't *everyone* know about that?"
Twinkle, twinkle. Hermione decided that Dumbledore knew that Draco was, er...exaggerating.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "You both knew about this?"
She nodded. She wasn't so sleep-deprived that she would act insolent to the Headmaster. Yet.
She wasn't guarenteeing anything, especially if she was kept from her bed much longer.
"We don't know what a Likaelor is, though," Draco told Dumbledore. "That's what we need to find out."
His eyes went dreamy. "I bet Likaelors are destined to be incredibly rich and famous. And star in commercials for hair-care products because of their silky blond hair. And own huge mansions with multiple pools. And have hordes of servants flocking to obey their commands. And-"
"Not exactly," Dumbledore interrupted. "Likaelors are not usually destined for fame and riches. In fact, most Likaelors do not live past the age of 30."
Hermione blinked.
Well, that's reassuring.
"Likaelors," Dumbledore said, "have existed almost for as long as wizards can remember. Some of the earliest Likaelors recorded were contemporaries of ancient Egypt. While most wizards know that Cleopatra was a witch, few know that she was also a Likaelor.'
'Likaelors are not born very often. In fact, only 5 have been born within the last century. There is a greater influx of Likaelors during times of struggle and war, and those born during one of those times typically manifest their powers just before the crisis of that struggle."
"So?" Draco muttered. "We still don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Hermione ignored Draco and leaned forward eagerly. "You said 'powers', Headmaster?"
He smiled at her. "Yes. Likaelors are born with powers not usual to normal witches and wizards. Little is known about these powers, but most of them have to do with control over the natural world, without the use of conventional magic. For example, a Likaelor might be able to control the weather, lift objects, or do anything to manipulate the space/time continuum, but he or she would not be able to, say, control people themselves. They would not be able to create objects either."
"Huh?" said Draco intelligently.
Dumbledore ignored him and continued.
"Likaelor magic is done without the use of a wand, although some find that 'totems' they obtain will increase their power. When they are aware and fully in control of their powers, Likaelors rival even the best witches and wizards.'
'The areas in which they have the most strength are illusion spells, and combat magic. They also have a legendary ability to heal. Some have been rumoured to be able to bring patients back from the brink of death.'
He paused for breath, and Draco leapt in. "So, when Hermione made the glass explode, and started glowing, and I got all...windy, that was our powers manifesting?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, I didn't hear about those incidents, but that's right. When your powers begin manifesting, you will have no control over them at first. That doesn't come until later. For a few months you will probably have outbreaks of magic whenever you feel strong emotion."
He peered at Hermione and Draco. "Although," he amended, "it may take longer. You haven't had any strange dreams or visions lately, have you?"
Hermione shot an uneasy glance at Draco. He had never gotten around to telling her just what he had to talk to her about. But he had said it was about her dream.
"Well I have," she said slowly.
"Me too," said Draco.
Dumbledore seemed a great deal more serious suddenly. "Tell me about it," he urged.
Hermione glanced again at Draco, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster about her dream.
She was careful to include every detail. Something about Dumbledore's look made her think it was important.
When she was finished, Draco turned to her in shock.
"That was my dream," he said.
"What?" Hermione asked. Her brain seemed numb.
"That was the same dream I had! You were in mine, too. And I heard the explosion from your compartment just as I woke up."
They looked at each other in silence, then turned back to Dumbledore expectantly.
He sat back in his chair and surveyed them. "Well." he said. "This is a little sooner than I expected, but..."
"What's going on now?" Draco asked peevishly. "Some more good news? I can't possibly be more of a freak than I already am, so go ahead."
"You both are approaching your Trials," Dumbledore told them.
Hermione and Draco sported identical looks of blank cluelessness.
Dumbledore sighed and went on. "Likaelors, before they can gain complete control over their powers, must undergo a Trial. They usually dream about it, or experience visions some time beforehand. The Trial is different for every Likaelor, but from your dream, I can make some predictions about yours."
"So....." prompted Hermione.
"Yours will take place in a different world- judging from the place you were in, a demon world. The man-thing you described will most likely be part of your Trial. If you survive, you will probably find the totems I mentioned earlier in the tower."
He examined them closely. "One thing puzzles me, and that is the fact that you had the same dream. This means that you will probably go through your Trials together. As each Likaelor's Trial is a unique matter, this is extremely unusual. I don't know what it means...."
"So," Draco said. "One day, out of nowhere, we'll arrive at some demon- world to fight this bloody great shape of *emptiness*? And there's nothing we can do to prepare for this? And there's no guarantee that we'll even survive?!"
He let his head fall back. "Why me?" he asked the ceiling. "I was happy. I was in control of my life. Why?"
"Draco," said the Headmaster gently. "Remember what we talked about at Diagon Alley a few days ago? Maybe this is how you are supposed to fight for us. Maybe this is why you couldn't obey your father."
Hermione watched, wide-eyed. She didn't know what Dumbledore was talking about, but she was sure that it was a clue to Draco's changed behavior.
She could figure it out later. Her brain had been working overtime today and she could barely process everything Dumbledore was telling them.
Draco didn't say anything in reply; he just sat still, staring down at the desk before him.
Hermione thought of a question. "Headmaster?" she asked, "Draco's right. Why us? I mean, why do we have these powers and not, say, Harry Potter?"
"I think the best theory," Dumbledore replied, "is that it is a hereditary thing. Draco was most likely born as a Likaelor because of his wizarding bloodline."
Draco attempted a smirk half-heartedly.
"You, on the other hand," Dumbledore continued, "present more of a puzzle. Since you were born to Muggle parents, it isn't genetics in your case."
He smiled at her suddenly. "My guess is that you are the beginning of such a bloodline as Draco's. Powers have been known to spring up unexpectedly before. I believe that you are the beginning of a great and talented generation of witches and wizards, such as yourself."
Hermione blushed.
A girl could really get used to this, she thought.
"Now," Dumbledore said sternly, "no more questions for tonight. You two are almost asleep already. Professor McGonagell will show you to your rooms. Good night!"
"Good night," Hermione and Draco murmered back, and they were escorted from Dumbledore's office by McGonagell.
She led them through the halls. They followed docilely, being too tired to protest.
Just when Hermione had decided to collapse in the center of the corridor, McGonagell halted in front of a large painting...Hermione couldn't quite make it out....
"This is your portrait hole," she said, "You can decide on a password in the morning."
McGonagell tapped the painting with her wand and it swung open silently to reveal a darkened room.
"Draco, your room is that way," she said, gesturing, "and Hermione, yours is over there."
Hermione crossed the room automatically, not stopping to say goodnight.
When she came to the red and gold door to her room, she pushed it open, and collapsed on the bed into a heavy and dreamless sleep.
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*Looks back over pages* Dear Lord, that was long. It sucked too. But that's just because I needed to get all the boring explanations out of the way.
It seems kind of cheesy, doesn't it? I don't know. Tell me in a review?
*Is grumpy* I stayed up until midnight finishing that. (Well the cafe au lait helped) Appreciate it, darn you.
God, Dumbledore (I am so sick of typing his name!) talked a lot, didn't he? Curse him.
Soo now that the ultimate boring chapter is out of the way, on to the good stuff!
*****
Next Chapter: I know, I know, I promised this in Chapter 6, but did you see how bloody long it was? Hermione wakes up (finally!), explores, la la la. Draco relaxes in the afore-mentioned garden. (It's a cool garden, I promise) Aaaaaand, how could they not have a truce after all this? They're not *stupid*, you know.
*****
Oh and P.S.
I have to acknowledge Kaitlyn, or she'll strangle me...or throw a crow at me...or some such.
So I'm acknowledging her.
Ta-da.
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Reviewers get my undying love and gratitude! *pauses* So what if it's not money? Deal with it. Sheesh.
Hey meat monkeys!
Your reviews made made my day! (I was so happy that I called my guy friend and sang "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" at him until he threatened me with bodily harm.)
I reeeealllly apologize for being lazy and having such short chapters, but...okay, I don't have an excuse. Make up your own. I'm sure it'll be just like one of mine. (only better!)
I'm all um, jittery now cause I just went to Cafe du Monde and had beignets and really scrumptious cafe au lait. Whoa...sugar overload. So expect strange things from this chapter. Or not.
*****
Last Chapter:
Draco flopped into a seat next to the windows, and was preparing to get his sulky brooding face on, when the train rumbled to a halt, and the peaks and pinnacles of a familiar castle filled the view.
They were at Hogwarts.
*****
Disclaimer: *Looks pained* How could you suspect me of stealing from J.K.Rowling (a.k.a. Goddess of All That is Good and HP-Related). Okay, no, the CC's incident was not stealing. I swear, somebody else put those chocolate-covered coffee beans in my purse!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
"The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper."
-Eden Phillpotts
"Come to the edge
He said. They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge
He said. They came.
He pushed them, and
they flew..."
-Guillaume Apollinaire
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
Chapter 6
Hermione had just changed into her school uniform when the train slowed to a stop, signifying their arrival at Hogwarts.
She, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were fighting their way through the crowd to a carriage, when Hermione noticed Professor McGonagell waving frantically in her direction.
"Hermione!" McGonagell shouted. "Over here!" (a/n: Would she use "Hermione" or "Ms. Granger? I couldn't decide.)
Hermione realized that, as Head Girl, she was expected to make the traditional ride to Hogwarts in a carriage with the Head Boy.
Great, she thought glumly. Just what I need right now. A nice ride, in a small, enclosed area, with Draco Malfoy. Isn't my day horrible enough already? Why does Fate mock me so? *Why*?
Draco was already in the carriage when she entered, slumping into a corner, and staring out the window.
She ignored him determinedly and curled into an opposite corner, staring out her own window.
Professor McGonagell was in the carriage with them, seeming a little unsettled. After a few attempts to make conversation (about the weather), and recieving one-word replies from Hermione (and grunts from Draco), she gave up.
They made the trip to Hogwarts- usually a short journey, but this time it seemed much longer- as they rode in grim silence
When they finally arrived, Hermione slid out of the carriage and was about to rejoin her friends in Gryffindor, when Professor McGonagell seized her arm abruptly and pulled her away, dragging Draco with her other hand.
She deposited them just outside the Great Hall, then turned to face them and hissed.
"You two will be seated at the High Table with the professors tonight, so I want to see you behaving! I shouldn't even have to tell you this, but I want you two to be civil to each other. Make conversation, and at least try to *look* like you get along."
Then she swept off, looking furious. Hermione guessed that McGonagell wasn't so sure about the Head Boy and Head Girl arrangements herself. She definitely couldn't see the professor vouching for Draco.
Hermione walked to her seat beside Draco, and sat in stony silence.
Just as everyone was seated, Professor McGonagell brought out an old, tattered wizard's hat. Hermione smiled, remembering her own Sorting 6 years ago.
The Hat sang its song...different, as usual, from the previous year's, and Hermione let her mind wander as the nervous-looking first years were Sorted into their various houses.
(a/n: like I was going to write a rhyming song!)
She hoped that they could speak to Dumbledore soon. She wanted very badly to know what was going on with her and Draco. She wanted to know what a Likaelor was.
Hermione yawned. She wanted some sleep, goddammit!
Too bad Malfoy's not speaking to me, she thought.
But, of course, it's all his fault. Yep. I'm not going to apologize first, that's for sure.
She hoped desperately that they would last the evening without anything exploding.
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Draco sat next to Hermione in stony silence.
He suffered through that stupid Hat's song, then the monotonous Sorting of the first years. After the first 15 minutes, he was fighting to stay awake.
Well, it had been a busy day. What with the exploding and the supernatural winds and the fighting and what-have-you. He was tired.
He occasionally snuck a few furtive glances at Hermione, but she didn't seem inclined to speak to him, even though McGonagell continued to shoot dark looks at them over the table.
Well, he thought. Fine. If she doesn't want to talk, then I won't even try. She was the one who said she never wanted to speak to me again. I'm definitely not going to apologize for something that's her fault, anyways.
Draco slouched a little deeper in his chair and dug into the food that appeared on his plate recklessly.
The rest of the feast went much as the beginning. Apart from a few professors' comments thrown their way, Hermione and Draco sat without speaking.
However, Draco ate plenty, suddenly aware that he hadn't had any food since that morning. He was so busy eating that he doubted that he would have been able to talk to Hermione, had they still been speaking.
Finally, Dumbledore rose from his seat, indicating that the students were free to go. The Great Hall broke up into swarms of Houses, while first year students trickled in more orderly lines behind their prefects.
Hermione and Draco- now miserable with exhaustion- were steered through the hallways by a disgruntled Professor McGonagell.
Draco had no idea whether they were going to their rooms or somewhere else; he just followed McGonagell. They trudged down endless corridors and climbed what Draco estimated to be about 80 thousand flights of stairs, until McGonagell-the-Slave-Driver halted.
Draco leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. They had stopped in front of a large, ornately carved, and familiar entry. Draco had been here at least nine times during his years at Hogwarts. He knew it well.
He, Hermione, and Professor McGonagell were standing in front of Dumbledore's office.
"Blowpop," said McGonagell shortly.
Draco wasn't too tired to leer at the name, though he supposed it was some barbaric type of Muggle candy. Last time he had been here the password had been "Raisinets".
The door swung open to reveal Dumbledore, seated behind his desk, with two chairs pulled up in front of it.
Professor McGonagell ushered them in and slammed the door as she left.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
Hermione warily settled into the chair that Dumbledore motioned her to.
She knew that Harry had been in here loads of times, but she was kind of hoping not to make it too much of a habit.
Once she and Draco were seated, Dumbledore fixed them with a steady gaze.
And watched them.
For what seemed like hours, he examined them carefully, not speaking. Hermione barely dared to breath.
She had the grace to squirm slightly under his unblinking scrutiny, but Draco just stared back, apparently too far gone in the realms of weariness to care.
Finally, Dumbledore (to Hermione's intense relief) leaned back in his seat, and spoke.
"Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, Head Girl and Head Boy," he said. "Congratulations on your first day in your new positions. I'm sure that you will be an asset to our school."
He continued, eyes twinkling; "However, that is not what you were brought here tonight to discuss."
Hermione sat up straighter and gave him her whole attention. Maybe Dumbledore already knew what was going on.
"You two are different from most other wizards- both your age and older. I do not speak of your intelligence and maturity, although these are very evident traits in both of you. What I speak of is that, against all odds, you both are living legends."
Draco also seemed to perk up slightly at this.
"You," Dumbledore said, with the air of one who is making a great announcement, "are Likaelors."
Draco let his head drop forward to collide with the desk.
His muffled voice drifted up to Hermione and Dumbledore.
"...after midnight..." he said indistinctly, "..sitting through a feast...walking *miles* to get here...and then you tell us things we already *knew*!"
He raised his head and looked plaintively at Dumbledore.
"I could be sleeping now," he told the Headmaster. "In a bed! Right now!"
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "You already knew that you were a Likaelor?"
"Duh," said Draco. He didn't seem to notice that he was talking to the Headmaster. "How could we not?" he continued scornfully. "I mean, we have the birthmark, don't we? Doesn't *everyone* know about that?"
Twinkle, twinkle. Hermione decided that Dumbledore knew that Draco was, er...exaggerating.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "You both knew about this?"
She nodded. She wasn't so sleep-deprived that she would act insolent to the Headmaster. Yet.
She wasn't guarenteeing anything, especially if she was kept from her bed much longer.
"We don't know what a Likaelor is, though," Draco told Dumbledore. "That's what we need to find out."
His eyes went dreamy. "I bet Likaelors are destined to be incredibly rich and famous. And star in commercials for hair-care products because of their silky blond hair. And own huge mansions with multiple pools. And have hordes of servants flocking to obey their commands. And-"
"Not exactly," Dumbledore interrupted. "Likaelors are not usually destined for fame and riches. In fact, most Likaelors do not live past the age of 30."
Hermione blinked.
Well, that's reassuring.
"Likaelors," Dumbledore said, "have existed almost for as long as wizards can remember. Some of the earliest Likaelors recorded were contemporaries of ancient Egypt. While most wizards know that Cleopatra was a witch, few know that she was also a Likaelor.'
'Likaelors are not born very often. In fact, only 5 have been born within the last century. There is a greater influx of Likaelors during times of struggle and war, and those born during one of those times typically manifest their powers just before the crisis of that struggle."
"So?" Draco muttered. "We still don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Hermione ignored Draco and leaned forward eagerly. "You said 'powers', Headmaster?"
He smiled at her. "Yes. Likaelors are born with powers not usual to normal witches and wizards. Little is known about these powers, but most of them have to do with control over the natural world, without the use of conventional magic. For example, a Likaelor might be able to control the weather, lift objects, or do anything to manipulate the space/time continuum, but he or she would not be able to, say, control people themselves. They would not be able to create objects either."
"Huh?" said Draco intelligently.
Dumbledore ignored him and continued.
"Likaelor magic is done without the use of a wand, although some find that 'totems' they obtain will increase their power. When they are aware and fully in control of their powers, Likaelors rival even the best witches and wizards.'
'The areas in which they have the most strength are illusion spells, and combat magic. They also have a legendary ability to heal. Some have been rumoured to be able to bring patients back from the brink of death.'
He paused for breath, and Draco leapt in. "So, when Hermione made the glass explode, and started glowing, and I got all...windy, that was our powers manifesting?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, I didn't hear about those incidents, but that's right. When your powers begin manifesting, you will have no control over them at first. That doesn't come until later. For a few months you will probably have outbreaks of magic whenever you feel strong emotion."
He peered at Hermione and Draco. "Although," he amended, "it may take longer. You haven't had any strange dreams or visions lately, have you?"
Hermione shot an uneasy glance at Draco. He had never gotten around to telling her just what he had to talk to her about. But he had said it was about her dream.
"Well I have," she said slowly.
"Me too," said Draco.
Dumbledore seemed a great deal more serious suddenly. "Tell me about it," he urged.
Hermione glanced again at Draco, and proceeded to tell the Headmaster about her dream.
She was careful to include every detail. Something about Dumbledore's look made her think it was important.
When she was finished, Draco turned to her in shock.
"That was my dream," he said.
"What?" Hermione asked. Her brain seemed numb.
"That was the same dream I had! You were in mine, too. And I heard the explosion from your compartment just as I woke up."
They looked at each other in silence, then turned back to Dumbledore expectantly.
He sat back in his chair and surveyed them. "Well." he said. "This is a little sooner than I expected, but..."
"What's going on now?" Draco asked peevishly. "Some more good news? I can't possibly be more of a freak than I already am, so go ahead."
"You both are approaching your Trials," Dumbledore told them.
Hermione and Draco sported identical looks of blank cluelessness.
Dumbledore sighed and went on. "Likaelors, before they can gain complete control over their powers, must undergo a Trial. They usually dream about it, or experience visions some time beforehand. The Trial is different for every Likaelor, but from your dream, I can make some predictions about yours."
"So....." prompted Hermione.
"Yours will take place in a different world- judging from the place you were in, a demon world. The man-thing you described will most likely be part of your Trial. If you survive, you will probably find the totems I mentioned earlier in the tower."
He examined them closely. "One thing puzzles me, and that is the fact that you had the same dream. This means that you will probably go through your Trials together. As each Likaelor's Trial is a unique matter, this is extremely unusual. I don't know what it means...."
"So," Draco said. "One day, out of nowhere, we'll arrive at some demon- world to fight this bloody great shape of *emptiness*? And there's nothing we can do to prepare for this? And there's no guarantee that we'll even survive?!"
He let his head fall back. "Why me?" he asked the ceiling. "I was happy. I was in control of my life. Why?"
"Draco," said the Headmaster gently. "Remember what we talked about at Diagon Alley a few days ago? Maybe this is how you are supposed to fight for us. Maybe this is why you couldn't obey your father."
Hermione watched, wide-eyed. She didn't know what Dumbledore was talking about, but she was sure that it was a clue to Draco's changed behavior.
She could figure it out later. Her brain had been working overtime today and she could barely process everything Dumbledore was telling them.
Draco didn't say anything in reply; he just sat still, staring down at the desk before him.
Hermione thought of a question. "Headmaster?" she asked, "Draco's right. Why us? I mean, why do we have these powers and not, say, Harry Potter?"
"I think the best theory," Dumbledore replied, "is that it is a hereditary thing. Draco was most likely born as a Likaelor because of his wizarding bloodline."
Draco attempted a smirk half-heartedly.
"You, on the other hand," Dumbledore continued, "present more of a puzzle. Since you were born to Muggle parents, it isn't genetics in your case."
He smiled at her suddenly. "My guess is that you are the beginning of such a bloodline as Draco's. Powers have been known to spring up unexpectedly before. I believe that you are the beginning of a great and talented generation of witches and wizards, such as yourself."
Hermione blushed.
A girl could really get used to this, she thought.
"Now," Dumbledore said sternly, "no more questions for tonight. You two are almost asleep already. Professor McGonagell will show you to your rooms. Good night!"
"Good night," Hermione and Draco murmered back, and they were escorted from Dumbledore's office by McGonagell.
She led them through the halls. They followed docilely, being too tired to protest.
Just when Hermione had decided to collapse in the center of the corridor, McGonagell halted in front of a large painting...Hermione couldn't quite make it out....
"This is your portrait hole," she said, "You can decide on a password in the morning."
McGonagell tapped the painting with her wand and it swung open silently to reveal a darkened room.
"Draco, your room is that way," she said, gesturing, "and Hermione, yours is over there."
Hermione crossed the room automatically, not stopping to say goodnight.
When she came to the red and gold door to her room, she pushed it open, and collapsed on the bed into a heavy and dreamless sleep.
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*Looks back over pages* Dear Lord, that was long. It sucked too. But that's just because I needed to get all the boring explanations out of the way.
It seems kind of cheesy, doesn't it? I don't know. Tell me in a review?
*Is grumpy* I stayed up until midnight finishing that. (Well the cafe au lait helped) Appreciate it, darn you.
God, Dumbledore (I am so sick of typing his name!) talked a lot, didn't he? Curse him.
Soo now that the ultimate boring chapter is out of the way, on to the good stuff!
*****
Next Chapter: I know, I know, I promised this in Chapter 6, but did you see how bloody long it was? Hermione wakes up (finally!), explores, la la la. Draco relaxes in the afore-mentioned garden. (It's a cool garden, I promise) Aaaaaand, how could they not have a truce after all this? They're not *stupid*, you know.
*****
Oh and P.S.
I have to acknowledge Kaitlyn, or she'll strangle me...or throw a crow at me...or some such.
So I'm acknowledging her.
Ta-da.
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Reviewers get my undying love and gratitude! *pauses* So what if it's not money? Deal with it. Sheesh.
