To... A fan I got an account, Diamond rose, JeanB, and Sweet Sorrow (I'll
try to cut down on the emotions, and move the action up a couple of
notches. To tell you the truth, the action was supposed to come in like
three chapters later... But just for you... LOL. And thanks for your honest
opinion!)
... Did I miss anyone out? Sorry! Oh, does anyone know the link to this story? Could you please e-mail it to me? I honestly don't know it myself, and the search engine on this site isn't working. Thanks!
Chapter 28
"What do you want?" Said Hermione, sounding harsher than she intended to.
Draco looked at her, and smirked. "I'd be lying if I said I wanted to work out the mystery of the potion."
Hermione sank down into a couch, and hugged a cushion to her chest. "Get straight to the point," she said wearily.
"I'm bored," yawned Draco.
Hermione, despite her tiredness, felt a little stab of annoyance. "I'm tired, Draco. I'm going to bed." She stood, and strode towards the stairs, without even glancing back.
Draco wanted to stop her, but remembered how she had passed out not too long ago, and decided it better to let Hermione get her rest. As Draco ascended the stairs, he realized that he had actually followed his heart in letting Hermione go to bed, instead of keeping her up for his own selfish wants, and talking to her till the next day.
He shook his head as he opened his door. 'Maybe tomorrow,' he thought, 'I'll make the first move.'
After washing up and changing, Draco fell back onto his bed, and fell asleep before his head even touched his pillow.
"Don't touch her!" Draco yelled. "Leave her alone!"
Draco darted towards the motionless figure that was Hermione, on the cold stone floor of the dark and dank cave. He could from the temperature that the cave was underground.
"Stand back, Draco!"
"Father?"
"Ah... Draco," Lucius smiled. The dim glow of the fire made his smile look more evil and cunning. "Funny that I'm seeing you, of all people, here - and trying to save the mudblood, too aren't you?"
Draco tried not to grimace. "Don't call her that, father. She has a name," he said softly, his eyes fixed on Hermione. 'Please, Hermione!' he thought, 'Please don't be dead!'
Lucius fixed his sturdy gaze on his son. "I see what I have taught you all these years has gone in one ear and out the other," he said, turning to face Draco.
Draco met his father's cold stare unflinchingly. "You have taught me nothing that is worth remembering, father," he said stiffly.
"Really?" Lucius' smile widened. "The first thing I taught you was never to fall in love, Draco. Never. I thought you were obeying me, but I see - I see your mother has been telling you to do otherwise."
"No!" Put in Draco too quickly. "No, she didn't!"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Maybe killing her wouldn't be a bad idea after all, would it?"
With a sudden, swift movement, Lucius raised his wand, and pointed it at Hermione. "Crucio!"
"Father," he moaned weakly. "Father, please! Not - not her. Take me."
Lucius lowered his wand and looked at Draco. "No," he said. "No. It's time I teach you a little lesson, so you'll know what happens the next time you disobey me."
Draco felt a surge of foreboding, as his father raised his wand.
As Draco was about to whip out his wand, another voice had shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Draco, turned to see who had shouted, but suddenly, he felt himself being pulled into a whirlpool of black, varying shades of gray, brief flashes of blinding whiteness and warmth.
"NO!"
Draco sat up in bed, cold sweat running down his face.
He looked towards his window, but it was still dark. Squinting in the darkness, Draco saw that it was only half-past midnight.
Trying to suppress his fear, he slowly lowered himself back onto his pillows, and shut his eyes.
Just then, he heard a loud scream pierce the still night air. Draco's eyes flew open, as he bolted up once more. He knew that scream anywhere. With a sick feeling in his gut, he got dressed, and made his way out of his room to Hermione's, fervently hoping she was okay.
As he was making his way up, he realized that several girls were in front of him, Cho among them.
"What happened?" Draco heard Parvati say over the confused murmur.
"Clear the way," said Cho loudly, as she was about to open the door to Hermione's room.
Before she put her hand on the knob, however, Hermione had thrown it open, trembling from head to toe.
She held on to the doorway for support, as she looked at Cho, her eyes wide with fear.
"Hermione? Hermione, what's wrong?" Cho cried out, her voice rising in panic, as she let Hermione lean on her for support.
Fortunately, Draco was tall, and could see over the heads of the other students.
"A Death Eater," Hermione whimpered, hiding her face in Cho's soft, pink bathrobe. "He threw - He threw s-s-something at me. It's all sticky. L- Look," she whispered, holding out her right forearm.
Draco craned his neck, and caught a glance of Hermione's arm, and had to stifle the cry of surprise and fear that was at the back of his throat. There was no mistaking the Trapping Potion, which was splashed generously onto Hermione's arm, pajamas, and hair. Draco quickly pushed through the crowd, and put his arm around Hermione's trembling shoulders, careful not to get the potion on his skin.
Before he disappeared down the stairs, he turned and half-yelled at Cho, "Don't touch it! It's the you-know-what Dumbledore told you about!"
As Draco supported Hermione, he awkwardly pushed the portrait open. "Could you tell who it was? Can you tell me anything you remembered about the - the Death Eater? Any prominent features?"
Hermione nodded weakly, as she tried to walk on her own. "He - he was tall," Hermione mumbled, as she managed to take a few steps on her own. She wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember what she could. After all, her room had been lit by just a small candle in the corner of her room, and the pale moonlight, which cast eerie shadows on the furniture. "I think he had long - very long silver hair."
Draco's stomach lurched violently. "Long silver hair?"
"Yes," said Hermione firmly, taking a few more steps, which were steadier. "I remember the way it still shone when he removed his hood in the shadows. He was so - so pale. Like he'd never stepped out in daylight before. Draco," Hermione whimpered. "Draco, please don't tell me that that was... Your father. Please don't. He threw a whole bottle of the potion on me when I was about to scream. Oh, what'll I do?" Hermione broke down, and Draco held on to her.
"I don't know, Hermione," said Draco, squeezing her shoulder. "I really don't know."
"It's all my fault!" Hermione said, tears streaming down her face. "I shouldn't have... I don't know, but maybe I shouldn't have worked... Too closely with you, lame as it may sound."
"Hermione, that's not true," said Draco, forcing himself to think. "My father would've come after me - not you."
"Then why -?"
Draco glanced at Hermione, before fixing his gaze on the gargoyle at the foot of Dumbledore's office. "I don't know, Hermione. I'm sorry," he said, starting to tremble himself. "I hope Dumbledore can tell us. And - and I hope he has the Releasing potion. Or else -."
However, Draco didn't get to complete his sentence, as the staircase began to move downwards. Hermione sighed softly as they watched Dumbledore step off the staircase.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. What happened?"
Trying to be as brief as possible, Draco related what Hermione had told him, as Dumbledore escorted them up to his office.
Draco found the description of the Death Eater hard to repeat, and stumbled over his words.
"Hermione said that the Dead - I mean, Death Eater... He had long s - silver hair, and fair skin, and she - she thinks it was my - my father," Draco shivered, not looking at Dumbledore or Hermione.
The headmaster said nothing as he sat at his desk. "I suppose the first thing we have to do is get you cleaned up, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy - Did you get any of the potion on yourself?"
Draco glanced down at himself, and shook his head. "No, Professor."
"Good -," started Dumbledore, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Draco - Draco, I'm afraid there's some on your right arm," Hermione said, staring, transfixed, at his arm. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have touched you."
Draco looked Hermione in the eye, and said bravely, "It's okay. I deserved it, anyway. My father - if he was the one - deserves to have me controlled by the potion. Let him see what he's done... If he even realizes it."
"Why do you want to suffer just to spite your father?" Whispered Hermione. "Why must you hurt yourself?"
"He deserves it," Draco stated simply, gazing into space, as a hard look crossed his face. 'He deserves to feel pain, if he even knows how to feel anymore."
Dumbledore, who had been listening to the conversation, said, "There is no need to worry. Professor Snape has already brewed bottles of the Releasing Potion. After you two clean up," he waved his wand twice, and both were spotless, "which you already are, I'll get him to bring some up. Do not worry. This potion can take up to three days to work, so let's hope that it isn't too strong."
Then, he stood, walked to the fireplace, and grabbed a handful of some glittery powder into the blazing fire, and called "Severus!" into the blue- green flames.
As he was waiting for Snape to answer his call, Hermione and Draco sat still without looking at each other, when Hermione said suddenly, "Thanks."
Draco glanced at her in surprise. "Whatever for?"
"For helping me," answered Hermione.
Draco said nothing, and there was an awkward pause. Then, he said, "Before I heard you scream, I was up already."
Hermione looked at him questioningly.
"Nightmare," said Draco, before Hermione could ask. "A very, very horrible nightmare."
"What happened?" Said Hermione, wrapping her arms around her.
Draco, seeing this, took off his robe, and threw it around Hermione before she could protest.
"Wait until Snape and the headmaster give us a dose of the Releasing Potion. Maybe they can tell us what it means," said Draco, as Snape stepped out of the fireplace, brushed invisible soot off his black hooded cloak, with a bottle of what they assumed to be the Releasing Potion clasped tightly in his hands.
Snape said nothing as he put the bottle on the table, opened it, and produced two spoons from nowhere. Still silent, he spooned out a large dollop with each spoon, and handed one to the Prefects.
Hermione and Draco took the spoon, held it under their noses and took a deep sniff. Hermione tried not to gag as she looked at Draco, who had the same revolted look on his face.
"We'll take it together, okay? On the count of three - One," prompted Hermione.
"Two."
"Three!"
Hermione shut her eyes, and tried not to cringe as she put the potion into her mouth. As soon as the spoon was in, Hermione pulled it out, and clapped her hand over her mouth, to keep herself from spitting it out.
The potion was ice-cold, then fiery-hot then cold again. The taste did not make up for the horrible taste, either. It made Hermione think of rotten eggs, and decayed meat.
When both of them had managed to swallow the foul concoction, Snape took the spoons from them and made them disappear into nothingness. Dumbledore smiled down on them.
"It wasn't pleasant, I trust?"
Hermione said nothing, but her expression said all.
Then, Draco cleared his throat. "I had a nightmare, and it woke me before Hermione screamed. I don't know if it's telling me the future, like a premonition."
Dumbledore sat in his chair, indicating Draco to start his story, as Snape sat in a chair in the corner of the semi-circular office.
Trying not to leave out any details, Draco told his small, but attentive audience everything he'd seen. When he'd finished, he looked at Dumbledore, and said in a steady tone, "I'm afraid this might be a warning, sir. I used to have such nightmares when I was younger, and they happened, more often than not."
The headmaster said nothing, as he put his fingers together, and rested his chin on them. He was quiet for a while.
While waiting for the professor to reply, Draco looked at Hermione and saw that her cheeks were red. 'Was she embarrassed by me saying that my father told me never to fall in love?' He wondered. 'Did she think that perhaps we were together in my nightmare?'
While he was still mulling over this, Dumbledore said, "I honestly don't know, Mr. Malfoy. But we can only guess. But what puzzles me is - Why did your father mention him teaching you not to fall in love, and then something about going in one ear, and out the other."
Draco could sense Hermione's embarrassment radiate warmth that he could actually feel.
Perhaps Professor Dumbledore had realized this too, for he abruptly changed the subject. "Well, it's late, and I shall fathom over this tomorrow. Meanwhile, Severus, Minerva and I will find out what we can. So," he said, rising, as Hermione and Draco took the cue, and stood too, though Hermione showed, too obviously, that she wanted to leave, as she rose so quickly, that the wooden chair scraped the floor as she did so. "Why don't you two pop back to bed?"
Hermione and Draco nodded stiffly, and turned to leave. However, as they were about to step onto the stairs, Hermione stopped, and turned around to face the headmaster.
"Sir, -," she started.
"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore nodding. "Where you'll sleep?" He stood staring at Hermione, and Draco, who was carefully watching his expression. He considered his answer for several seconds, as a slow, somewhat amused smiled crossed his face. "Why don't you kip in Mr. Malfoy's room, Miss Granger? At least, until we have ensured your room is clean."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, as Snape jumped up, as though he was going to rush at Dumbledore, and knock him senseless.
"But, the rules, professor!" Hermione protested feebly, as though they were more important than her safety.
"Professor Dumbledore's right, Hermione," said Draco, much to Hermione's surprise. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, as if to say, 'what? Are you nuts?' "If my father comes back - if - I doubt he'd want to harm me."
As Hermione tried once more to argue, Draco continued, as though not realizing she was trying to say something, "Trust me. I know my father."
Hermione turned to Snape, and pleaded him with her eyes to help her. He tried to argue, too, but Dumbledore held up a hand, so that Snape couldn't say anything.
"It's for the best, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore firmly.
Hermione, thoroughly annoyed, said "Goodnight" with certain stiffness. Despite this, Dumbledore merely smiled knowingly, as they left his office, glaring at each other.
When they were at the foot of the stairs, Hermione said to Draco, "You'd better not think that I'm going to let you hug me or try whatever stupid tricks you have up your sleeve."
Draco smirked, and said in a would-be innocent voice. "What tricks?"
Hermione blew her fringe in frustration and rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Draco. I'm telling you, I'm better at it."
Draco had to laugh. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. But just to give you a friendly tip - I've only got one blanket. The spare one's being washed."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Tell me again why I bother talking to you."
"I guess we Malfoy's are naturally irresistible," said Draco, the smirk still on his face.
Hermione sighed loudly, as though it was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard, though she knew he was right, in a way.
For the rest of the way, the pair was quiet. When they were in Draco's room, Hermione looked around at his room, and said, "I guess we could fit a small cot here..."
Draco frowned mockingly at her. "What? And wake the house-elves?" he said. "What happened to your spew?"
"S-P-E-W!" Said Hermione, her eyebrows knitted, remembering the way Ron had called it spew, whenever he was teasing or annoying her.
"Yeah, whatever," said Draco, stifling a yawn. "Why don't you stop being so stubborn, and just sleep on my bed?"
Hermione stared at him, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. "If you want me to sleep next to you, why don't you just tell me?"
Draco glared at her, but said nothing. Finally, he stated, " Wherever you sleep, Hermione, it's none of my business. It's your discomfort, anyway. Not mine."
Hermione tried to imitate his smirk as she said, "We'll see."
Draco shrugged as he plopped himself onto his bed. "Suit yourself, okay?" He yawned. "I'm dead tired." Then, he settled himself down into a comfortable position, his back to her, and closed his eyes. "Good night," he said, yawning again.
Hermione stood there for some time, staring blankly at him, while the night's events replayed in her head. Nearly ten minutes later, when she heard Draco's snores, and she had ascertained that he was fast asleep, she felt cheeky, out of the blue. Grinning, she prepared to spring onto his bed, and startle him out of his brains.
"One... Two... Three!" She mumbled under her breath, as she made a leap, and landed on Draco's bed, which bounced up and down violently, the movement slowly subsiding.
Draco was instantly awoken, and sat up as he shouted, "WHAT THE -?" He turned and glared at Hermione. "Can't a boy get some decent sleep without a mad-ass of a female pouncing on his bed? What the hell do you want?"
Hermione, who was kneeling with her palms flat on the silky covers for balance, smiled her sweetest smile at him. "Just wanted to ask... Where DO I sleep?"
Draco grunted in a disgruntled way, then shifted over. Smiling triumphantly, Hermione lay down, and smiled up at the top of his four- poster bed, before drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was seven fifteen in the morning, and almost everyone was still asleep. Ginny, who had risen early, sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the leaping orange flames, thinking about all the things she could be doing outdoors on Saturday morning if it wasn't raining.
She had planned to wake up at seven, and go for a walk by the lake, while watching the sunrise. Then at eight, she wanted to go to the Great Hall, grab some breakfast with her best friends, then hang out with them in Hogsmeade all the way till afternoon. But now, the rain, which was coming down in heavy torrents, had foiled her almost-perfect plans.
"Maybe," she said aloud to herself, pulling at the bottom of her pink turtleneck shirt, "if Harry would like to do something, it wouldn't be all that bad... But -."
"Ginny?"
Ginny jumped to her feet, and turned to see Harry come down the stairs, already in his striped collared shirt and long pants.
"Harry?" She said looking at Harry, wondering what his reaction would be if she ran to him, and gave him a big hug.
"Hey," he said, smiling, as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "Good morning - though it's raining, and not what I'd call good."
Ginny smiled sadly at him. "Yeah. There go all my wonderful plans."
Harry feigned annoyance and pretended to be offended. "What? Plans without me?" Harry's smile widened slightly. "Pretty romantic weather, though."
The red headed girl turned nearly the same shade of her hair, as she looked at the floor in between them. Harry continued walking towards her, and pulled her into a hug.
"I don't know about you, but I'd love for just the both of us to go down to the Three Broomsticks, and sit there till the rain stops. I can already taste that butterbeer in my mouth."
Ginny tightened her hands around Harry. "I can't wait to," she whispered, as Harry kissed the crown of her head.
"Great," he whispered back. "Then let's go before the others are up."
Ginny looked up at Harry in surprise. "You're not telling anyone else?"
"Yeah, why?" He smiled. "Afraid I'll take you away to an uncharted territory and keep you there?"
Ginny laughed, as she shyly planted a small kiss on his cheek.
"Nope," Harry continued. "If we tell anyone else, it wouldn't be just the two of us anymore."
Ginny smiled, as she took Harry's hand and held it tightly. "Okay. Let's go."
Then, the couple made their way to Hogsmeade, saying nothing to each other until they'd reached the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't that they had nothing to say, but the relationship they shared sometimes didn't need words. The feeling between them was mutual.
... Did I miss anyone out? Sorry! Oh, does anyone know the link to this story? Could you please e-mail it to me? I honestly don't know it myself, and the search engine on this site isn't working. Thanks!
Chapter 28
"What do you want?" Said Hermione, sounding harsher than she intended to.
Draco looked at her, and smirked. "I'd be lying if I said I wanted to work out the mystery of the potion."
Hermione sank down into a couch, and hugged a cushion to her chest. "Get straight to the point," she said wearily.
"I'm bored," yawned Draco.
Hermione, despite her tiredness, felt a little stab of annoyance. "I'm tired, Draco. I'm going to bed." She stood, and strode towards the stairs, without even glancing back.
Draco wanted to stop her, but remembered how she had passed out not too long ago, and decided it better to let Hermione get her rest. As Draco ascended the stairs, he realized that he had actually followed his heart in letting Hermione go to bed, instead of keeping her up for his own selfish wants, and talking to her till the next day.
He shook his head as he opened his door. 'Maybe tomorrow,' he thought, 'I'll make the first move.'
After washing up and changing, Draco fell back onto his bed, and fell asleep before his head even touched his pillow.
"Don't touch her!" Draco yelled. "Leave her alone!"
Draco darted towards the motionless figure that was Hermione, on the cold stone floor of the dark and dank cave. He could from the temperature that the cave was underground.
"Stand back, Draco!"
"Father?"
"Ah... Draco," Lucius smiled. The dim glow of the fire made his smile look more evil and cunning. "Funny that I'm seeing you, of all people, here - and trying to save the mudblood, too aren't you?"
Draco tried not to grimace. "Don't call her that, father. She has a name," he said softly, his eyes fixed on Hermione. 'Please, Hermione!' he thought, 'Please don't be dead!'
Lucius fixed his sturdy gaze on his son. "I see what I have taught you all these years has gone in one ear and out the other," he said, turning to face Draco.
Draco met his father's cold stare unflinchingly. "You have taught me nothing that is worth remembering, father," he said stiffly.
"Really?" Lucius' smile widened. "The first thing I taught you was never to fall in love, Draco. Never. I thought you were obeying me, but I see - I see your mother has been telling you to do otherwise."
"No!" Put in Draco too quickly. "No, she didn't!"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Maybe killing her wouldn't be a bad idea after all, would it?"
With a sudden, swift movement, Lucius raised his wand, and pointed it at Hermione. "Crucio!"
"Father," he moaned weakly. "Father, please! Not - not her. Take me."
Lucius lowered his wand and looked at Draco. "No," he said. "No. It's time I teach you a little lesson, so you'll know what happens the next time you disobey me."
Draco felt a surge of foreboding, as his father raised his wand.
As Draco was about to whip out his wand, another voice had shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Draco, turned to see who had shouted, but suddenly, he felt himself being pulled into a whirlpool of black, varying shades of gray, brief flashes of blinding whiteness and warmth.
"NO!"
Draco sat up in bed, cold sweat running down his face.
He looked towards his window, but it was still dark. Squinting in the darkness, Draco saw that it was only half-past midnight.
Trying to suppress his fear, he slowly lowered himself back onto his pillows, and shut his eyes.
Just then, he heard a loud scream pierce the still night air. Draco's eyes flew open, as he bolted up once more. He knew that scream anywhere. With a sick feeling in his gut, he got dressed, and made his way out of his room to Hermione's, fervently hoping she was okay.
As he was making his way up, he realized that several girls were in front of him, Cho among them.
"What happened?" Draco heard Parvati say over the confused murmur.
"Clear the way," said Cho loudly, as she was about to open the door to Hermione's room.
Before she put her hand on the knob, however, Hermione had thrown it open, trembling from head to toe.
She held on to the doorway for support, as she looked at Cho, her eyes wide with fear.
"Hermione? Hermione, what's wrong?" Cho cried out, her voice rising in panic, as she let Hermione lean on her for support.
Fortunately, Draco was tall, and could see over the heads of the other students.
"A Death Eater," Hermione whimpered, hiding her face in Cho's soft, pink bathrobe. "He threw - He threw s-s-something at me. It's all sticky. L- Look," she whispered, holding out her right forearm.
Draco craned his neck, and caught a glance of Hermione's arm, and had to stifle the cry of surprise and fear that was at the back of his throat. There was no mistaking the Trapping Potion, which was splashed generously onto Hermione's arm, pajamas, and hair. Draco quickly pushed through the crowd, and put his arm around Hermione's trembling shoulders, careful not to get the potion on his skin.
Before he disappeared down the stairs, he turned and half-yelled at Cho, "Don't touch it! It's the you-know-what Dumbledore told you about!"
As Draco supported Hermione, he awkwardly pushed the portrait open. "Could you tell who it was? Can you tell me anything you remembered about the - the Death Eater? Any prominent features?"
Hermione nodded weakly, as she tried to walk on her own. "He - he was tall," Hermione mumbled, as she managed to take a few steps on her own. She wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember what she could. After all, her room had been lit by just a small candle in the corner of her room, and the pale moonlight, which cast eerie shadows on the furniture. "I think he had long - very long silver hair."
Draco's stomach lurched violently. "Long silver hair?"
"Yes," said Hermione firmly, taking a few more steps, which were steadier. "I remember the way it still shone when he removed his hood in the shadows. He was so - so pale. Like he'd never stepped out in daylight before. Draco," Hermione whimpered. "Draco, please don't tell me that that was... Your father. Please don't. He threw a whole bottle of the potion on me when I was about to scream. Oh, what'll I do?" Hermione broke down, and Draco held on to her.
"I don't know, Hermione," said Draco, squeezing her shoulder. "I really don't know."
"It's all my fault!" Hermione said, tears streaming down her face. "I shouldn't have... I don't know, but maybe I shouldn't have worked... Too closely with you, lame as it may sound."
"Hermione, that's not true," said Draco, forcing himself to think. "My father would've come after me - not you."
"Then why -?"
Draco glanced at Hermione, before fixing his gaze on the gargoyle at the foot of Dumbledore's office. "I don't know, Hermione. I'm sorry," he said, starting to tremble himself. "I hope Dumbledore can tell us. And - and I hope he has the Releasing potion. Or else -."
However, Draco didn't get to complete his sentence, as the staircase began to move downwards. Hermione sighed softly as they watched Dumbledore step off the staircase.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. What happened?"
Trying to be as brief as possible, Draco related what Hermione had told him, as Dumbledore escorted them up to his office.
Draco found the description of the Death Eater hard to repeat, and stumbled over his words.
"Hermione said that the Dead - I mean, Death Eater... He had long s - silver hair, and fair skin, and she - she thinks it was my - my father," Draco shivered, not looking at Dumbledore or Hermione.
The headmaster said nothing as he sat at his desk. "I suppose the first thing we have to do is get you cleaned up, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy - Did you get any of the potion on yourself?"
Draco glanced down at himself, and shook his head. "No, Professor."
"Good -," started Dumbledore, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Draco - Draco, I'm afraid there's some on your right arm," Hermione said, staring, transfixed, at his arm. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have touched you."
Draco looked Hermione in the eye, and said bravely, "It's okay. I deserved it, anyway. My father - if he was the one - deserves to have me controlled by the potion. Let him see what he's done... If he even realizes it."
"Why do you want to suffer just to spite your father?" Whispered Hermione. "Why must you hurt yourself?"
"He deserves it," Draco stated simply, gazing into space, as a hard look crossed his face. 'He deserves to feel pain, if he even knows how to feel anymore."
Dumbledore, who had been listening to the conversation, said, "There is no need to worry. Professor Snape has already brewed bottles of the Releasing Potion. After you two clean up," he waved his wand twice, and both were spotless, "which you already are, I'll get him to bring some up. Do not worry. This potion can take up to three days to work, so let's hope that it isn't too strong."
Then, he stood, walked to the fireplace, and grabbed a handful of some glittery powder into the blazing fire, and called "Severus!" into the blue- green flames.
As he was waiting for Snape to answer his call, Hermione and Draco sat still without looking at each other, when Hermione said suddenly, "Thanks."
Draco glanced at her in surprise. "Whatever for?"
"For helping me," answered Hermione.
Draco said nothing, and there was an awkward pause. Then, he said, "Before I heard you scream, I was up already."
Hermione looked at him questioningly.
"Nightmare," said Draco, before Hermione could ask. "A very, very horrible nightmare."
"What happened?" Said Hermione, wrapping her arms around her.
Draco, seeing this, took off his robe, and threw it around Hermione before she could protest.
"Wait until Snape and the headmaster give us a dose of the Releasing Potion. Maybe they can tell us what it means," said Draco, as Snape stepped out of the fireplace, brushed invisible soot off his black hooded cloak, with a bottle of what they assumed to be the Releasing Potion clasped tightly in his hands.
Snape said nothing as he put the bottle on the table, opened it, and produced two spoons from nowhere. Still silent, he spooned out a large dollop with each spoon, and handed one to the Prefects.
Hermione and Draco took the spoon, held it under their noses and took a deep sniff. Hermione tried not to gag as she looked at Draco, who had the same revolted look on his face.
"We'll take it together, okay? On the count of three - One," prompted Hermione.
"Two."
"Three!"
Hermione shut her eyes, and tried not to cringe as she put the potion into her mouth. As soon as the spoon was in, Hermione pulled it out, and clapped her hand over her mouth, to keep herself from spitting it out.
The potion was ice-cold, then fiery-hot then cold again. The taste did not make up for the horrible taste, either. It made Hermione think of rotten eggs, and decayed meat.
When both of them had managed to swallow the foul concoction, Snape took the spoons from them and made them disappear into nothingness. Dumbledore smiled down on them.
"It wasn't pleasant, I trust?"
Hermione said nothing, but her expression said all.
Then, Draco cleared his throat. "I had a nightmare, and it woke me before Hermione screamed. I don't know if it's telling me the future, like a premonition."
Dumbledore sat in his chair, indicating Draco to start his story, as Snape sat in a chair in the corner of the semi-circular office.
Trying not to leave out any details, Draco told his small, but attentive audience everything he'd seen. When he'd finished, he looked at Dumbledore, and said in a steady tone, "I'm afraid this might be a warning, sir. I used to have such nightmares when I was younger, and they happened, more often than not."
The headmaster said nothing, as he put his fingers together, and rested his chin on them. He was quiet for a while.
While waiting for the professor to reply, Draco looked at Hermione and saw that her cheeks were red. 'Was she embarrassed by me saying that my father told me never to fall in love?' He wondered. 'Did she think that perhaps we were together in my nightmare?'
While he was still mulling over this, Dumbledore said, "I honestly don't know, Mr. Malfoy. But we can only guess. But what puzzles me is - Why did your father mention him teaching you not to fall in love, and then something about going in one ear, and out the other."
Draco could sense Hermione's embarrassment radiate warmth that he could actually feel.
Perhaps Professor Dumbledore had realized this too, for he abruptly changed the subject. "Well, it's late, and I shall fathom over this tomorrow. Meanwhile, Severus, Minerva and I will find out what we can. So," he said, rising, as Hermione and Draco took the cue, and stood too, though Hermione showed, too obviously, that she wanted to leave, as she rose so quickly, that the wooden chair scraped the floor as she did so. "Why don't you two pop back to bed?"
Hermione and Draco nodded stiffly, and turned to leave. However, as they were about to step onto the stairs, Hermione stopped, and turned around to face the headmaster.
"Sir, -," she started.
"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore nodding. "Where you'll sleep?" He stood staring at Hermione, and Draco, who was carefully watching his expression. He considered his answer for several seconds, as a slow, somewhat amused smiled crossed his face. "Why don't you kip in Mr. Malfoy's room, Miss Granger? At least, until we have ensured your room is clean."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, as Snape jumped up, as though he was going to rush at Dumbledore, and knock him senseless.
"But, the rules, professor!" Hermione protested feebly, as though they were more important than her safety.
"Professor Dumbledore's right, Hermione," said Draco, much to Hermione's surprise. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, as if to say, 'what? Are you nuts?' "If my father comes back - if - I doubt he'd want to harm me."
As Hermione tried once more to argue, Draco continued, as though not realizing she was trying to say something, "Trust me. I know my father."
Hermione turned to Snape, and pleaded him with her eyes to help her. He tried to argue, too, but Dumbledore held up a hand, so that Snape couldn't say anything.
"It's for the best, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore firmly.
Hermione, thoroughly annoyed, said "Goodnight" with certain stiffness. Despite this, Dumbledore merely smiled knowingly, as they left his office, glaring at each other.
When they were at the foot of the stairs, Hermione said to Draco, "You'd better not think that I'm going to let you hug me or try whatever stupid tricks you have up your sleeve."
Draco smirked, and said in a would-be innocent voice. "What tricks?"
Hermione blew her fringe in frustration and rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Draco. I'm telling you, I'm better at it."
Draco had to laugh. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. But just to give you a friendly tip - I've only got one blanket. The spare one's being washed."
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Tell me again why I bother talking to you."
"I guess we Malfoy's are naturally irresistible," said Draco, the smirk still on his face.
Hermione sighed loudly, as though it was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard, though she knew he was right, in a way.
For the rest of the way, the pair was quiet. When they were in Draco's room, Hermione looked around at his room, and said, "I guess we could fit a small cot here..."
Draco frowned mockingly at her. "What? And wake the house-elves?" he said. "What happened to your spew?"
"S-P-E-W!" Said Hermione, her eyebrows knitted, remembering the way Ron had called it spew, whenever he was teasing or annoying her.
"Yeah, whatever," said Draco, stifling a yawn. "Why don't you stop being so stubborn, and just sleep on my bed?"
Hermione stared at him, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. "If you want me to sleep next to you, why don't you just tell me?"
Draco glared at her, but said nothing. Finally, he stated, " Wherever you sleep, Hermione, it's none of my business. It's your discomfort, anyway. Not mine."
Hermione tried to imitate his smirk as she said, "We'll see."
Draco shrugged as he plopped himself onto his bed. "Suit yourself, okay?" He yawned. "I'm dead tired." Then, he settled himself down into a comfortable position, his back to her, and closed his eyes. "Good night," he said, yawning again.
Hermione stood there for some time, staring blankly at him, while the night's events replayed in her head. Nearly ten minutes later, when she heard Draco's snores, and she had ascertained that he was fast asleep, she felt cheeky, out of the blue. Grinning, she prepared to spring onto his bed, and startle him out of his brains.
"One... Two... Three!" She mumbled under her breath, as she made a leap, and landed on Draco's bed, which bounced up and down violently, the movement slowly subsiding.
Draco was instantly awoken, and sat up as he shouted, "WHAT THE -?" He turned and glared at Hermione. "Can't a boy get some decent sleep without a mad-ass of a female pouncing on his bed? What the hell do you want?"
Hermione, who was kneeling with her palms flat on the silky covers for balance, smiled her sweetest smile at him. "Just wanted to ask... Where DO I sleep?"
Draco grunted in a disgruntled way, then shifted over. Smiling triumphantly, Hermione lay down, and smiled up at the top of his four- poster bed, before drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was seven fifteen in the morning, and almost everyone was still asleep. Ginny, who had risen early, sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the leaping orange flames, thinking about all the things she could be doing outdoors on Saturday morning if it wasn't raining.
She had planned to wake up at seven, and go for a walk by the lake, while watching the sunrise. Then at eight, she wanted to go to the Great Hall, grab some breakfast with her best friends, then hang out with them in Hogsmeade all the way till afternoon. But now, the rain, which was coming down in heavy torrents, had foiled her almost-perfect plans.
"Maybe," she said aloud to herself, pulling at the bottom of her pink turtleneck shirt, "if Harry would like to do something, it wouldn't be all that bad... But -."
"Ginny?"
Ginny jumped to her feet, and turned to see Harry come down the stairs, already in his striped collared shirt and long pants.
"Harry?" She said looking at Harry, wondering what his reaction would be if she ran to him, and gave him a big hug.
"Hey," he said, smiling, as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "Good morning - though it's raining, and not what I'd call good."
Ginny smiled sadly at him. "Yeah. There go all my wonderful plans."
Harry feigned annoyance and pretended to be offended. "What? Plans without me?" Harry's smile widened slightly. "Pretty romantic weather, though."
The red headed girl turned nearly the same shade of her hair, as she looked at the floor in between them. Harry continued walking towards her, and pulled her into a hug.
"I don't know about you, but I'd love for just the both of us to go down to the Three Broomsticks, and sit there till the rain stops. I can already taste that butterbeer in my mouth."
Ginny tightened her hands around Harry. "I can't wait to," she whispered, as Harry kissed the crown of her head.
"Great," he whispered back. "Then let's go before the others are up."
Ginny looked up at Harry in surprise. "You're not telling anyone else?"
"Yeah, why?" He smiled. "Afraid I'll take you away to an uncharted territory and keep you there?"
Ginny laughed, as she shyly planted a small kiss on his cheek.
"Nope," Harry continued. "If we tell anyone else, it wouldn't be just the two of us anymore."
Ginny smiled, as she took Harry's hand and held it tightly. "Okay. Let's go."
Then, the couple made their way to Hogsmeade, saying nothing to each other until they'd reached the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't that they had nothing to say, but the relationship they shared sometimes didn't need words. The feeling between them was mutual.