AN: I am so enjoying this. Whee.
Disclaimer: Same old, same old.
Chapter 16: Maybe Hermione.
Rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed
You're my survival, you're my living proof
My love is alive not dead
Tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above
- I'll Be, Edwin McCain
They lay side by side, his bare shoulder touching hers in a warm kiss. The sleet drummed against the roof in a relaxed rhythm, echoing the contented beating of their hearts. She turned, lay on her side, facing him. He smiled slowly, without turning to face her. Lifting her hand, she traced the profile of his handsome face, the high forehead, the aristocratic nose and the full lips.
"Pretty boy." she whispered softly, laughingly. He looked incredulous. "How dare you..." When she laid a finger on his lips, he cooled down, admitting that, "No one's ever called me that before."
She laughed then, he heard it clearly against the muffled pounding of the rain-mixed snow outside, and it was beautiful. "Well then, I'm the first." He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. "Does that make you feel special?" he whispered. She nodded, resting her head on the crook of her elbow.
Draco slid a hand teasingly down her bare thigh. "That's good. I like making you feel special... because you are, Hermione." Special. Hermione's lips twitched. "Say that again."
He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "You're special. Special. The most special woman in my entire life." he breathed. Hermione closed her eyes and kissed him.
Outside, the snow began to fall, slowly. Sweetly.
***
Harry closed the curtains, and the room darkened even more. The rain was falling steadily outside, and the day was bleak and grey, without a glimpse of sunshine all day through. Downstairs, he could hear Parvati singing playfully to Ron, asking the rain to go away and to come again another day.
His heart jumped painfully. Hermione used to sing that to me everytime it would rain. And her voice was so much sweeter. If only I could hear her now…
***
"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day..." Hermione hummed to herself as she threw the curtains open, letting in nothing but grey mists, cold air and watery light. Draco came down behind her, yawning, dressed in boxers and a bathrobe.
He came up behind her, and wrapped one arm possessively around her waist, gently taking her hand in his other one. She smiled contentedly and leaned back into his embrace, taking comfort in his warm body.
"And I always thought that you'd feel so cold and smooth..." she told him laughingly, admiring the misty condensation tracing patterns on the window glass. "Cold and unfeeling... like some marble statue."
He ran his hand through her tousled curls. "Really. So if I'm not cold, what am I?"
She twisted around in his arms, faced him and smiled. "Warm. Oh so warm."
Draco laid his lips against her neck, and Hermione could his smile against her skin, as he murmured "Warm. You made me that way." She slipped her arms around his neck, and closed her eyes. "Aren't I wonderful?" she whispered teasingly into his windswept blond hair.
His laugh bubbled up from inside him, and she could feel it against her. "Yes, you are."
She held him close, and she felt his arms tighten around her waist. "Do you love me, Draco?"
Silence, and the pattering of the cold grey sleet outside. "Maybe, Hermione."
***
Mad-Eye Moody looked up from his desk. "Potter." he acknowledged, thinking that this might be interesting. Harry nodded at him, and took a seat in front of Moody's paper-covered desk.
"I want to know everything I can about the Laws of the Paladin."
Moody raised a thick eyebrow as he reached into his desk. "Straight to the point, aren't we? I assume this has something to do with... ah... Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy?"
Harry glanced warily at the thick black tome Moody held out to him. "No, it has absolutely nothing to do with them."
Moody laughed gruffly. "Yes, Potter. It has absolutely nothing to do with them." Harry looked up at him, as if breaking out of a trance. His jade eyes narrowed, and he took the book from Moody without ceremony or grace.
"It's not funny. How would you feel if the only love of your life was gone forever? If she ran away from you? Straight into the arms of the one you hate the most in this cursed world?" Harry's pale palm thudded onto a pile of scrolls on Moody's desk, knocking them off the table.
"And what if she never comes back?!"
Silence. Moody's eyes were downcast, both the magical and the natural one. Harry's breathing was labored, and one could see the emotion glittering at the corner of his remarkable eyes. The book dangled from his hand, as his other hand clenched and unclenched on the desk.
Harry straightened up. With one hand, he tucked the book into his jacket, and the other hand brushed lightly across his face, wiping away something, maybe tears, maybe sorrow, maybe Hermione.
"Thank you." his voice was firm, yet weak. "I'll return the book as soon as conveniently possible." Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the office, the door sliding close behind him.
Moody raised his grizzled head, sighed, and picked up his quill. And he continued to write, well into the night.
***
Parvati lifted the curtains, glanced at the desolate slush-filled iceland, and sighed. "Harry will be back soon." Ron sat in front of the fireplace, the firelight turning his hair burnished bronze. "Mmm." he murmured. "If only this horrid December weather would let up. Christmas is right around the corner, and the sleet's still pelting down."
A cup of cocoa was Summoned neatly into Parvati's hand. "Yes, I agree. Is it too hard to ask for snow?" she sighed dramatically and took a sip of the bitter chocolate. She glanced over at the Christmas tree in the corner, decorated neatly with blue candles and silver ribbon.
"The weather would let up soon, I hope, in time for Christmas." she thought out loud, then suddenly, in a startling burst of energy, Ron sat up and flung his mug to the carpet.
"Ron!"
"I can't take it anymore! How can we sit here, all warm and toasty, discussing such inane things like weather when my best friend is pining away for the one and only love of his life?! It's just not right for us to be so happy when he's so obviously suffering! I can't stand the thought of that bastard Malfoy-"
The door swung open, letting in a cold blast of muddy snow, and a much-disheveled Harry. He stared at them, his eyes dull. Ron sat back down.
"And as I was saying, Parvati, I do hope the sleet stops before Christmas, and will be replaced by proper snow, don't you think? Oh, hello there, Harry. Cocoa?"
Harry shook his head, and removed his jacket, the snow melting in the heat of the fire and dripping to the carpet. Parvati winced. First, Ron's cocoa puddle, now those horrid ice puddles...
The dark-haired young man made his way up the stairs, pausing only to say, "Ron, your cocoa's spilled."
Ron laughed shakily. "Thanks, Harry old chap. You be careful now, be good, be happy." he called up the stairs, where the sound of Harry's ascending footsteps echoed dismally back to him.
When even that sound had faded away under the hissing shush of the sleet outside, Ron turned back to Parvati, looking so tired, so hurt, so helpless that her heart ached for him and his best friend.
"Oh Ron." She got up, kissed him lightly on his freckled cheek. "You can still help him. His heart is not beyond repair."
But as she began performing Cleansing Charms on the cocoa puddle on the carpet, she could only hope that her words were true.
***
The clock on the wall ticked slowly past two in the morning. One candle flickered at the desk, beside a dark figure hunched over a dusty tome. Harry pushed his glasses up, and continued to read, showing no sign of sleepiness or disinterest in his work.
The Paladin Spell is an ancient, powerful enchantment, involving the binding of two souls together forever.
Harry stopped, his finger on that one word. Forever.
One of these souls, the predominantly more powerful, more righteous one, will be named the Paladin, and entrusted to this Paladin is the soul of the Charge. From the beginning of the Spell to the end, the Paladin will be in every respect responsible for the welfare of the Charge.
Harry reread the sentence. ...to the end...
"What was the end?"
He flipped forward, past the list of enchantments needed for the entire Spell, instructions on how to render a house and a radius around it Unplottable, the requirements of a Paladin...
...The Deathe Of A Paladin.
He read on, eyes narrowed in concentration.
If, by the most unfortunate events, a Charge will die of an unnatural deathe, one that is inflicted by human hands, the Paladin is still held solely responsible, most especially if the Paladin did little or nothing to prevent such events from taking place.
However, if the Paladin should die in the process of defending his/her Charge, then the Paladin's death shall be honored above all others, and memoriam will be the responsibility of the Charge for the rest of eternity, just like the Charge was the Paladin's responsibility during life.
If a Charge shall die, even though the Paladin gave his/her all in the protection that s/he was required to keep, the Paladin shall still be honored, yet the burden of memoriam is still on the Paladin's shoulders.
He stopped reading, laid his hand on the page to stop it from blowing closed. "It's as if the Paladin and the Charge are... married." he whispered into the dark, around a painful lump of misery in his throat.
Suddenly, shining letters near the bottom of the page caught his eye, and he read on with interest.
However, if the Charge was murdered or put to deathe by one the Paladin trusted and was confidantes with before the Spell, the Paladin will suffer the greatest pain, and imminent deathe as well.
Harry shut the book with a thump.
"Then killing Malfoy's out of the question then." he said dully. "I can't hurt Hermione."
The cold winter wind found its way around the cracks of the windowsill, and smelling of Christmas and fair weather, it snuffed out the candle.
"If only they knew." his voice was soft in the dark. "I'm already suffering the greatest pain."
