Chapter Ten: Don't walk on the keyboa fdjaunrleingeins

Draco had taken to sleeping in Kiyoshi's bed at night, curled into his warmth. No one knew except for Snape, since Draco snuck out of his room well after the others were asleep. Kiyoshi had only kissed him that once, but it served as a connection, a link, and Draco could see that kiss every time he looked into his eyes. As much as it exhilarated him, it also scared him. Behind every loving thought, behind every image of Kiyoshi was the thought, what am I going to do when he has to leave?

Draco was alone in Kiyoshi's room when the magpie came again. He took the message it held and turned away to read it, even though he knew he should give it to Kiyoshi first. The message was painfully short:

I'm coming to get you.

--Nuncio.

Draco dropped the curling piece of parchment, his hands shaking. "No," He said aloud, backing away from the message as if it were a venomous snake. "No, no, no." He turned away, putting one hand over his eyes. "No!"

He ran into Kiyoshi while stumbling down the halls in a panic. The boy looked at him quizzically, his large blue eyes concerned. Draco stared at him, then tried to run. Kiyoshi caught him by the arm and led him into an empty classroom. Once there, he sat down at an empty desk, and something in his eyes ordered Draco to do the same.

"You got a letter," Draco said in a tiny, scared voice after an interminable silence. "From Nuncio. He's—" He swallowed. "He's coming… To take you away."

Kiyoshi's eyes lit up, and he smiled widely, then seemed to catch himself and his smile faded. He shook his head. Draco set his jaw and stared at the wood grain on the desk. Kiyoshi set his hand on his shoulder, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. His lips burned against Draco's skin; a kiss of death.

"Please don't go," Draco begged. Kiyoshi looked startled. "You can stay here with me and I'll protect you. Nuncio too. You can live with me, at my house. It's really nice, and there's plenty of room, and I'm sure my parents will love you." He clenched his fists. "I'll make them love you."

Kiyoshi drew a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh. He looked down at his hands for a moment, then looked up and simply shook his head. Something tightened in Draco's chest. "You want to go with Nuncio," He said. "I understand." At Kiyoshi's suspicious look, he burst out, "Okay, I don't! I don't understand you at all, and now I never will!" He stood up. "Go on then—leave! Don't ever come back!" He stormed out of the room, using the sleeve of his robe to rub furiously at his eyes.

Kiyoshi stared after him, silent, then shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry," He whispered.

**

Hermione went confidently to Wolf's class the next morning, knowing what she knew; knowing what she was going to do. Her plan had to work—they always worked. She sat quietly through his lecture, then lingered when all the other students had left.

"What can I do for you, Miss Hermione?" Wolf asked, setting a book down on his desk.

"What you can do," Hermione said, "Is give me a passing grade—no—give me the highest mark in the class."

Wolf's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Hermione swallowed hard. "You try my patience, Miss Hermione. I've things to do, you realize; I have no time to sit here and listen to your list of demands."

Hermione took a deep breath. "What things?" She asked. "If it's the same thing you were doing with Professor McGonagall here last night, I'm sure Dumbledore will want to hear about it."

Wolf's expression changed to one of shock. "You—" He looked away. "Foxhounds," he cursed. "What were you doing here last night?"

"I might never have seen you if you weren't giving me a failing grade," Hermione wheedled.

"Blackmail, is it?" Wolf shook his head. "I don't make deals with students."

Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest, and she could feel herself sweating. "Professor Wolf," She took a step back as Wolf rose from his chair and went to the window, opening it to the cool afternoon breeze. "I don't want to have to tell Dumbledore. I don't have to have the highest mark; just tweak the books a little, and no one will know—about either of us."

Wolf turned to look at her. His eyes had changed from sweet amber-honey to a deep gold—the reflection of the hunter's moon in his eyes. Hermione drew a sharp breath and staggered into a desk. "I told you; I do not make deals with students—especially not ornery little witch-wenches who haven't even grown into their brassieres!"

He advanced on her rapidly, white teeth bared. Hermione turned and ran for the door, but it shut at a gesture from Wolf. She yanked at the knob and clawed at the wood, then felt Wolf grab her by the collar on her vest and the back of her skirt. She started to scream as he lifted her off of the ground, swinging her around once, twice, then releasing her, sending her flying out of the open window. As she fell, she saw Wolf's face framed in the window, feigning horror. "Miss Hermione, no!" He cried as she thudded to the ground.

Hermione lay in a daze, her body buzzing with pain. Her left leg was folded underneath her at an unnatural angle, and her right shoulder, which had taken the force of the fall, felt cold and wet. She glimpsed something white shining out of the corner of her eye, but could not turn her head to see what it was. Her vision began to blur, and she could faintly hear voices, shouting. Wolf's was among them, sounding distraught. "She—I tried to stop her, but when she found out she was failing my class—All Gods, why couldn't I stop her?!" He trailed off into sobs, while someone—it sounded like Professor McGonagall—tried to console him.

Someone was kneeling over her. "Hermione, why did you do this?" It was Ron. "You should have told someone—we could have helped you!" She was being lifted onto a stretcher, being led through a crowd of curious faces, some streaked with tears.

Wolf, She tried to cry out. It was Wolf, he tried to kill me! Her lips moved, but no sound came out. The faces blurred and ran, like a bad dream.