Well, thank you to Telex for that interesting review...I didn't know my stories were worshipped, LOL. Anyway, to anyone who thought this was going to be a totally in-depth FFIX/Harry Potter story, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Tirui isn't...how do I say this without giving away the plot? How about this--things are not always what they appear.

Disclaimer-We do not own Harry Potter or Final Fantasy IX's characters.

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Chapter 11: Kind Dragon, Good Dragon

Tears were still shining on my face as Malfoy helped me up to the hospital wing, limping with every step of the way.

"Perhaps I should be helping you stay off that leg," I told Malfoy.

"I don't care about me," he answered gruffly. I could tell he just wanted to scream in pain right now. Why did he insist on helping me? I remained silent, however. The hospital wing was only a few feet away now.

"Goodness!" cried Madam Pomfrey as we entered the room. "Whatever happened to the two of you?"
"An accident," Malfoy answered abruptly.

"I see, I see," Pomfrey said. "Have a seat, and I'll see how bad it is." She brought out a blank screen of some kind and held it up.

"Which of you first?" she asked cheerfully.

"Him," I said, pointing at Malfoy.

At the same moment, he pointed at me. "Her."
"Fine, I'll choose," she rolled her eyes and placed the screen over Malfoy's ankle. "Just a sprain." She touched her wand to it and Malfoy stood again, testing his strength.

"Oh, dear," she frowned at the screen over my arm. "How did this happen, Mr. Malfoy?"

"An accident," he answered again.
"I wasn't watching where I was going and I ended up in the middle," I explained. "Professor Snape wasn't very happy. He got knocked onto the table."
Pomfrey chuckled at that and pulled out her wand again.
"This might hurt a bit, dear. Hold still, now."

I grit my teeth and watched as she used her wand to place my bones back where they belonged. With them realigned precisely, she tapped my arm twice, once for each break, and the bones were suddenly whole again.
"Well, all done," she grinned. "Now, we can just send you on back to class..."

She dug through her desk at the head of the wing, and returned moments later with two pieces of parchment.
"I've forgotten your name already, dear, care to help?" she asked me sheepishly. Her wand, however, flew from her pocket and pointed at me.

"M-Madam Pomfrey..." I stammered.
"Don't be silly, dear, that's my name," she chuckled. "Your name? Dear?"

I sat frozen in terror. Malfoy tried to move the wand from its direct course for my chest, but he only managed to move it to point at my left hand. Suddenly my hand went very, very limp.

"What the...what...?" Madam Pomfrey snatched the wand from midair, and beat around where it had been, but caught nothing but air.

"Really, what on Earth?" Pomfrey stated, rather flustered. "Not even Peeves would try something like this!"

I raised my arm into the air and watched my hand dangle from the wrist bone like a rubber glove. Someone or something had removed the bones in my hand.

"Oh, dear," Pomfrey muttered gravely. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Ma'am?"
"Can you stay with this young lady? I must go inform the headmaster immediately."
"Certainly," Malfoy answered. As quickly as that, Pomfrey dashed out into the hall and left me alone with Draco Malfoy.

Someone help me.
"Someone is after you," Malfoy sank into the chair next to me.

"So? What's it to you? I'm Muggle-born, you should be happy," I retorted, glaring at him.
"Like I care."
"Why wouldn't you? You're father serves Voldemort, I should expect you'd have his attitude," my throat was clenched tightly.

"Beautiful, intelligent, and brave, too," he smirked. "Is there no end to your talents?"
"I'm not talented, I'm not beautiful, and I'm most certainly not brave," I growled. This was getting increasingly annoying, especially the underlying little voice that still had not been crushed in totality. You like him, you know you do. He's cute and he's being nice to you...

"You believe so much that isn't true," he sighed. "That's your only flaw."

"What about yours, Malfoy?" I snarled, looking at the wall in front of me. I concentrated on the wall. Maybe then I could keep that little voice down.

"I prefer Draco."
"Why? You seem determined to call everyone else by last name."

"I can reform," he stated calmly, taking my limp hand in his, studying it. "I will track him down. That was dark magic that controlled her wand. There are few who know how to do that. Even my father."
"Your father can go jump in a lake, and you can follow him," I snatched my hand back and looked it over, making sure he hadn't done anything. I was caught between wanting to listen to every breath he made and throwing him out the nearest tower window.

"That wasn't very nice," he said, sounding hurt.

"Of course not, what makes you think you deserve being nice to?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I couldn't...I can't..."
"Can't what?" I snapped.

"I can't know the difference. With who my father is, what else can I do?"

"What about your mother?"

"My mother is far worse."

Maybe he's telling the truth...maybe he just couldn't help it, I thought, toying with my flopping hand.

"I am telling the truth."
"How did you know that's what I was thinking?" I asked sharply.

"Those books were not a very good way of helping you judge my character," he smiled, his silver eyes twinkling.

"B-Books...h-how did you know...about those?" I stammered. What was going on?

"I've been reading your mind," he answered, his grin broadening. "I know everything, of course. About your world, your worries, your other brother, your mum and dad...how you got here...everything."

Everything...

The single word echoed around my head like he had said it on the Quidditch field on a cool, damp day. He knew...Harry Potter's daily enemy knew everything. He knew about Aeolus and my dimension, my numerous pets, my mother (sitting in her wheelchair), my father, Matthew. And he knew my greatest secret of all, the one I had kept from him and everyone else.

That I liked him.
"Everything?" I whimpered squeakily.

"Is it so terrible?" he asked, but my answer was cut off. Dumbledore had entered the room, followed by a fretting Madam Pomfrey.

"Angel, have you any idea who is after your life?" Dumbledore asked, studying my hand a moment, then nodding to Madam Pomfrey.

"No, sir," I shook my head.

"You're very lucky," Pomfrey said, watching me as she prepared a steaming mug of what I supposed was Skele-Gro. "It was aiming for your chest."
"Only dark magic could control a wand long-distance," Dumbledore stated severely. His eyes were extremely worried, the typical twinkle gone from them. "You're lucky, indeed. Had it been your ribs, or even your whole arm, it would have been disastrous."

"As it is, it will take until eleven to regrow the hand bones," Pomfrey said.

"That's twenty minutes after second class," Dumbledore sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, what are you still doing here?"

"Oh, I asked him to watch her," Pomfrey said.

"Well enough. Come along, Mr. Malfoy, I'll escort you back to class."
Thank God. I thought.

"Take this, dear, this is going to be very painful for you."
I took the potion and sat back in my chair to wait. It was going to be a while.

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Oooohh...Malfoy can read minds now. I thought this would be an interesting twist...I guess I succeeded! Someone's out to get me! Ah! For real, too, in the past week, my bike chain has broken, I've fallen from a tree, had a knife thrown at me, had a chicken thrown at me...oi, I'm a mess right now, I tell ya.