~~ Chapter Eleven: A Life for a Life ~~

            Harry Potter was on his way to Herbology when he heard someone call his name.  He turned around and saw Hermione Granger walking toward him at a rapid pace.  "Harry," Hermione said again, "how's Malfoy doing?  He's not dead, is he?"

            Harry couldn't help noticing how concerned Hermione sounded about the situation.  "I don't know," he answered.  "Last I heard he was still alive, but unconscious."

            "When was that?"

            "At breakfast this morning.  I heard it from Wood, who heard it from Percy, who heard it from Penelope, who heard it from Lisa, who was on her way to ask Professor Terringer a question about the M.E. study group when she overheard Terringer telling Snape how he was."

            Hermione arched an eyebrow.  "How nice.  With all those links, I'm probably the last person in the school who didn't know as of ten seconds ago."

            At that moment, they were joined by Ron Weasley.  "Hey, do you know if Malfoy's all right?"

            Hermione looked at Ron and said, "Make that second to last."

            "What?" asked Ron.

            "Never mind."

            "Malfoy's still out," Harry said.  "He's alive, but out.  We've got Musical Enchantment after Herbology.  We can ask Professor Terringer then."

            "Why would she know?" inquired Ron.

            Harry went through the links that led up to his knowledge of the situation.

            "Oh," said Ron.  He paused.  "Are you sure it was Terringer telling Snape and not the other way around?"

            Harry lifted up four fingers counted off his links, putting one finger down as he said each of the names.  "Lisa, Penelope, Percy, Wood.  Those sources are pretty reliable.  Why?"

            "Well, I think I missed something," Ron said.  "Snape's the head of Slytherin house and he's one of Malfoy Senior's best friends."

            "Yeah," said Hermione.  "So?"

            "So," Ron replied, "wouldn't it make more sense for Snape to know first and then tell Terringer about what's going on than the other way around?"

            Ron's ability to catch the smallest details and then expand upon them amazed Harry to no end.  "You've got a point there," Harry said.  "I'm pretty sure Wood said it was Terringer who told Snape."

            "So that means Terringer knew before Snape did," Ron deduced.

            Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.  "Ron, where are you going with this?  I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for Professor Terringer to know about Draco's situation-"

            "Before the head of Draco's house?" Ron interrupted.  "Yes, Hermione, I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for the person that should be third to know after Big Malfoy and Dumbledore found out from Professor Terringer."

            "Oooh, and another ten points for Weasley," Harry said.  "Quick, Granger, catch the Golden Snitch."

            Ron put his hand over his mouth to stifle laughter.  Hermione glared at Harry.  "Metaphorically speaking, of course," Harry said, trying not to laugh himself.

            "Okay, then, Mr. Smarty-Pants," Hermione said to Ron, "come up with a 'perfectly logical' reason that Terringer would know before Snape."

            Ron shrugged.  "I don't know.  Maybe Terringer's dating Big Malfoy."

            Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs.  "Shut up," he hissed.  "Don't even start that again."

            "Why not?" Ron asked.  "I was right last time."

            "Right about what?" inquired Hermione.

            "Nothing!" Ron and Harry chorused.

            Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Whatever.  Anyway, you're totally wrong about that, Ron.  Everyone knows Terringer's sweet on Snape."

            Ron and Harry couldn't believe their ears.  Harry finally found the ability to speak for both of them.  "What?" he squeaked.  "Since when?"

            "You two were so busy cheering on Draco at the Quidditch game yesterday that you probably didn't see them," Hermione said.  "She was holding on to his arm and everything."

            "Well, you were so busy flirting with Oliver Wood that I'm surprised you saw that," Ron replied.

            Hermione's face reddened, and she looked away.  "Ron," Harry said sternly, "that wasn't necessary."

            Ron felt bad, too, and he apologized.  "Sorry, Hermione.  I didn't mean that."

            A smile flickered across Hermione's lips.  "It's all right."

            "Still, though… Terringer and Snape?"  Ron looked at Harry.  "That's even grosser than Dumbld- ow!"

            Ron's comment was cut off by a quick jab in the ribs from Harry's elbow.  "Come on, let's get to Herbology," Harry said.  "We'll worry about crazy rumors later."

            In Musical Enchantment that day, a worn and somewhat disheveled Alina Terringer was giving a lecture on countermelodies when the doors burst open without any warning.  The class stopped listening to their teacher (who also stopped speaking) to see who was coming in.  It was Albus Dumbledore, moving at a rapid pace with a determined stride.  "Excuse the interruption, Professor Terringer, but this cannot wait," Dumbledore said.  "We need you down in the hospital wing immediately.  We're losing young Malfoy."

            "I'm on my way," Alina responded. 

She walked over to Dumbledore and opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore knew what she was going to say.  "If I may have the attention of the class," Dumbledore told the students, "I request that you all go back to your houses until this matter is resolved.  Classes are suspended until further notice."  He turned his attention back to Alina.  "Come.  We've not a minute to lose."

Draco Malfoy was barely clinging to life.  His skin had lost all almost all of its opacity, and one could see the purple veins stretched out like a spider's web over his arms, neck, and face.  The bruises on the right side of his body had only gotten worse.  Blood was filling his chest cavity, making every breath a struggle.  Every few seconds, his body gave a twitch, the sign of yet more life leaving him.  Draco's fighting spirit wasn't ready to give up, though.  Anyone else would have been dead long ago.

"How long has he been like this?" Alina asked, moving into the center of the ring of Hogwarts faculty that was gathered around the dying boy.  She walked over to the bed to get a closer look, and her heart almost stopped at the horror of what she saw.

"About half an hour now," Madam Pomfrey responded.  "When he started to turn for the worst, Professor Snape started brewing a healing potion, but it won't be done in time to have much of an effect."

Across from Alina, a broken Lucius Malfoy was on his knees next to his son's bed, holding on to the boy's hand like Draco was all he had left in the world, which wasn't far from the truth.  His grey eyes rose from his son and locked with Alina's.  "Is there anything you can do for him?" he asked desperately.

Alina was about to say something, but her words were cut off by the entrance of Severus Snape back into the circle with a stone bowl in hand.  "I'm not too late, am I?" Snape asked, kneeling down next to Alina and propping the bowl up on his knee.  He dipped his fingers into the thick green poultice in the bowl and looked at Madam Pomfrey for a response.

"I hope not, Professor Snape," was the nurse's reply.

Snape applied the poultice to Draco's exposed skin.  It made a hissing sound upon contact, and thin trails of smoke could be seen rising from the boy's flesh.  No one spoke, but they were all thinking the same thing – it was too little, too late.  Nothing could save him now.

Well, almost nothing.

Knowing what she had to do, Alina took a deep breath and placed her left hand on Draco's battered shoulder.  Her right hand went on top of Snape's, causing him to stop applying the poultice.  He shot her a surprised look, but more because he knew what she was doing than because she was stopping him.  They looked at each other for a moment, and Snape withdrew his hand.  "I hope you know what you're doing," he said to her.

She responded with a simple nod of her head, then focused all her attention on Draco.  A barely audible melody escaped from the confines of her vocal cords, then grew in volume to a level just above a whisper.

"What is she doing?" whispered Sibyll Trelawney to no one in particular.

Dumbledore took it upon himself to respond.  "It appears to be a healing enchantment of some sort," he said.  "Look!  Draco's breathing is becoming more steady!"

Sure enough, Draco was breathing slower and more deeply.  Color was returning to his skin.  The onlookers were so surprised that no one noticed the toll it was taking on Alina.  With each passing word, the Musical Enchantment professor's voice was getting softer, and her once smooth melody became choppy as life left her and flowed into Draco.  Then, Draco's eyelids began to flutter, and Alina fainted.

Snape, being closest to her, was the first one to realize what was happening, and managed to catch her before she could fall far.  The commotion caught the attention of the rest of the staff, as well as Lucius Malfoy.  "What happened?" demanded Minerva McGonagall.  "What's going on?"

"She must have transferred some of her life force to Draco," Snape concluded, looking at the unconscious, half-dead woman in his arms.  "There's a chance we can still save both of them, but we have to work fast."

"Did you hear?" Hermione Granger said at dinner that night, sitting down next to Ron Weasley and across from Harry Potter and Oliver Wood.  "Professor Terringer almost died trying to save Draco, and guess who was right there when she fainted?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Oliver.

"She thinks there's something going on between Terringer and Snape," Ron explained.

"Not just me," Hermione said.  "A lot of people."

"She's right," said Parvati Patil, who was sitting a few seats down and was close enough to catch part of their conversation.  "The whole school's talking about it."

"That doesn't make any sense at all," Oliver said.  "What do they have in common?  Terringer is lively and cheerful, and Snape is, well, Snape."

Ron and Harry exchanged looks, but said nothing.  In their opinion, after Dumbledore and McGonagall, nothing was beyond the realm of possibility.

Parvati shrugged.  "Maybe she sees something in him the rest of us don't."

"Well, that's obvious," said Hermione.

Ron changed the subject.  "Does anyone know how Malfoy's doing?"

"A lot better, from what I've heard," Oliver said.  "Whatever Professor Terringer did, it worked."

"Of course it worked," said Harry, "but at what cost?"

Rubeus Hagrid was walking back to his hut after dinner that night when he noticed some strange claw marks on the trees that marked the edges of the Dark Forest.  This confused him, and he walked over to the tree to get a better look.  To the best of his knowledge, there were no creatures in the Dark Forest that could leave this kind of a mark except a werewolf, and these were far too large and deep to be from a werewolf.

Hagrid held his lantern up to the tree trunk and peered closely at the marks.  There were four of them, about two inches apart and at least an inch deep.  And it wasn't just on one tree – identical marks could be seen on several more trees deeper inside the forest.

This wasn't making sense.  Werewolves sometimes left marks like this on trees, but he had never heard of a werewolf being large enough to make marks of this size.  Furthermore, werewolves didn't often travel to the edges of the forest.  Hagrid was getting worried.  Should he tell Dumbledore?  Not tonight, he decided.  Better to wait until morning and see then.

That night, Hagrid awoke to the sound of scratching on his door.  The half-giant grumbled to himself and stepped out of bed.  He lit a lantern, then walked over to the door, wondering who it could be.  He hoped it wasn't Potter and Weasley.  They seemed to enjoy dropping by after hours.

As Hagrid approached the door, the scratching stopped.  This puzzled him, and he stuck his head out the window to see if he could see anything.  When he saw nothing, he shrugged his large shoulders and went back to bed.

The next morning dawned bright and early with the crisp freshness of late September.  Having heard no more scratching, Hagrid was certain there was nothing to be worried about.  When he opened his front door, though, he quickly changed his mind.

The thick wood of his front door was covered in claw marks, two inches apart and one inch deep…

A/N: Oooh, suspense.  *shivers*  I know this story has been kind of warm and fuzzy thus far (what with good Malfoys and Draco making lots of friends and Lucius trying to salvage his relationship with his son and Dumbledore and McGonagall's cute little romance and Cedric Diggory still alive), but trust me, it will get much, MUCH darker.  What's going on between Alina and Snape?  What are Dumbledore and McGonagall up to?  What left all those mysterious claw marks on the trees?  The answers to these questions and more are on their way…