"We are forced to shut down the school."
"No."
"Dumbledore! It is for the safety of the students! If they do not go home, their lives will be in danger!"
"Do you seriously think, my dear Minerva, that the children will be safer in completely unprotected and open places than under my supervision?" Dumbledore eyed a distraught looking professor McGonagall under his half moon spectacles. The twinkle in his eye had gone, replaced with the steely glint of determination.
"Well, I believe that this school is a target of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and that the.the whole of the." Mcgonagall trailed off in realization that she had no idea what to say. "Headmaster!" She started again, gathering her scattered thoughts once more. "Hogwarts is under direct attack! No matter your powers, so many Death Eaters and Dementors, possibly even Giants will be slipping through the barriers! We've already lost-"
"I know. But think. Think of what would happen to them the second they left. It's too late now, professor, we're already surrounded."
"They just want the boy, they just want the power," Minerva whispered, sinking into a chair. "Isn't there anything? Anything at all? A - a way to stop this?"
"No. We keep the students here. Block off all contact, just for incase. Many parents have already asked us to take care of the children. It's not safe, Minerva. Even here."
The wrinkled woman's prim appearance sagged even more into the fluffy pillows of the chair. Many pre-headmasters shared her feelings - their pictures on the walls were portraying not the fun, strict, whatever principles of Hogwarts they were, but all harbored the same bleak look and weighed down expressions.
Phoenix still seemed normal as ever, however, singing a little Phoenix tune, the only uplifting part of the atmosphere. How she could do it, Mconagall didn't know.
"We'll get ready. Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy have already been assigned Head Girl and Boy. While the staff is gone, hopefully they will look after the school. Mr. Potter is Prefect as well as Ronald Weasely.." She trailed off, looking skeptically at Dumbledore. "Are you sure they'll-?"
"I believe I chose well, Minerva. They will do just fine. Besides, Phoenix here will watch over everyone."
Normally, appointing a bird temporary Headmaster of a very popular Wizardring School would be considered insane and a dejavou of Coligula, but Phoenix was most definitely not an ordinary bird. As for the two Head Students...appointing two rivals together to share a common room and a difficult job didn't seem at all in any sense sane. Even in the wizardring world. It was in moments like these that Minerva understood some of the complaints and rumors about Albus.
A twinkle lit up in Dumbledore's eyes again. "I believe we should share a final feast with the students before informing them.I'm sure some students," it was obvious who he was referring to (Weasely, Potter, Granger, and Malfoy), "will be quite shocked."
"Let's hope not too much so."
"Yes, let's hope."
Back in the Great Hall, it was a considerably different environment. Chatter and laughter rumbled over the four house tables of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. The First Years had already been sorted, with only five landing in Gryffindor and twelve in Slytherin. Harry was seated beside Hermione and across from Ron, who was talking nonstop like everyone else.
"I can't believe it! Did you see the Daily Prophet? It had my picture in it!" He held the article up proudly, reading, "'Ron Weasely, a seventh year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just last night won the newest release of the Firebolt 2005!' See, 'Mione, that's me there, holding the fastest broom in the world!" He said, smiling smugly.
"Wow, Ron. And tomorrow it will be the second fastest broom in the world! Just you wait," she said, turning to Harry, "I'll bet three galleons that the 2006 comes out in a week. You know how quickly your 'fastest broom in the world' went out of style!"
"Don' iswult da fia-bow," Harry said through half his dinner.
"Ew. I said say it, don't spray it," Hermione muttered under her breath, wiping the tablecloth clean beside her plate.
"Humph. Well, you'll see 'Mione, my Firebolt 2005 will definitely earn me a place on the Quiditch Team."
Hermione snorted, stuffing her nose back into her newest 'light reading book' of Magic and Spells; Grade Seven.
Suddenly, a hush began to slowly fall over the four tables as Dumbledore reappeared by his chair, standing tall and surveying the many students. Hermione and Harry twisted around to watch him make his (or what was presumed to be) traditional speech for their last year.
"I am delighted to see that you've already begun your feast. If you would pause a moment, please allow me the courtesy of your full attention. Not to say any names, Seamus." Pausing to wait for Diggory to look up from his plate, red around the ears and neck, the aged Wizard continued, peering at them all very gravely. "I have some news of the utmost important, and I am afraid I must be blunt with you - I see no point in trying to make this any easier.. Voldemort has risen to power once again."
Panicked and disbelieving whispers erupted from the Hall - students swerved around on their benches to get a better look at Dumbledore and see if what they heard were true. He held out his hand and once again a silence descended upon the sea of students.
"You will remain here, obeying your new Head Girl and Boy, Hermione Granger - Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy - Slytherin ("WHAT?! ME WITH MALFOY!?"). They will be located on the fourth floor, just knock on the wall by the torch if you need them.
"The staff will be leaving to help the Ministry of Magic fight off the Dark Lord for the time being, although some of us will remain on these grounds, fighting off the Death Eaters. By no means will you leave the castle." He paused to let the whispers spread, before holding up a silencing hand once more. "This has been requested by your parents, as Hogwarts under my protection is the safest place there is until all this is solved."
"Which could very well be never," muttered Neville, pale and frightened.
"If you have any questions, please fell free to ask your teachers and Head of Houses, as I'm sure they'd be delighted to help. You will, of course, have homework to occupy yourselves, and I've asked the ghosts to teach you. However, many of your classes will be dropped, and the ghosts only have enough patience for a week.
"Now, before you begin, I must inform you that there will be no contact whatsoever with anyone or anything outside this building, as nothing and no one is allowed to leave. This means that the owl post is canceled, and Hogsmead has temporarily closed to all visitors." He looked over the sea of people. "That is all."
Hermione gawked, Harry swore, and Ron dropped his article into the soup. Practically everyone else had about the same reaction - only Dumbledore began to eat smiling and talking at the other teachers with false merriment.
Ron's face shone with a mixture guilt and horror. "This is all my fault," he whispered, not even bothering to pick out his dripping article. "I let him get away.. Scabbers.. It was me.."
"Ron! Don't be ridiculous! It's no more your fault than it is Crookshank's!"
"Yeah, Ron, you did nothing," said Harry soothingly, propelling his friend from his seat. "C'mon, let's go to the tower. I-I'm sure everything will be fine. 'Mione?"
Hermione stuffed her book into her bag, suddenly looking up at the staff's table with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Hey.where's Snape?" she asked suddenly, pointing towards the empty potions seat. "He hasn't been here throughout the entire meal!"
"Probably kissing Voldemort's feet. You know, sucking up to the power," Ron managed with an evil glare. His face was deathly pale; bright blue eyes standing out against his flaming hair and previously white face. "Ugh. Poor dad. Probably all messed up in this."
Personally, Hermione was having a pretty hard time accepting Voldemort's rise, and so she didn't even try. Deciding to focus on one thing at a time, she went over Dumbledore's words of her and Malfoy being Head Students, which, under the circumstances, meant that they would have virtually all the decision power in this school. Rather like the consuls in ancient Roman times.
Wasn't there something else he had said, though? Something about a torch and a wall. She'd been so shocked to hear about Voldemort, her mind hadn't started working again until about five seconds later.
They headed upstairs to their dorms, no longer hungry. Some other kids left, too, but the majority stayed down in the Hall, probably confused and frightened.
"So, Mudblood, you scared?" A cold, sneering voice greeted her from behind the staircase. The trio turned to see pale, vampirish Malfoy leering up at them smugly. "I bet your parents are. Nothing to protect them or their precious half-witch. To bad Voldemort favors only pure bloods, eh Crabbe?"
Piggish Crabbe, standing buffly by Malfoy with his arms crossed nodded stupidly as if he were banging his head against a wall. Goyle grinned menacingly at Harry, knowing that he remembered their last encounter.
"Malfoy, if you've nothing better to do with your time than bug us, I suggest you find yourself a life." This came, surprisingly, from Hermione, who had merely rolled her eyes heavenward at Draco's cold remarks.
Malfoy, who looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening with surprise, opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something mean in return, but couldn't think of anything. Instead he just flicked his eyes over her as if he didn't really believe she would say something like that, and managed to say, "Soon, you may not have one," with another well placed sneer.
"I came here for a reason, however, Mudblood. Dumbledore wants us in his office now. Not only are you a half blood, you're a stupid one at that," he muttered, once again surveying her. Hermione tried not to squirm under his gaze, and bit her tongue before she let anything else rude slip. He deserved it, but she wasn't going to sink to his level.
"Why-? Oh. Right. Head Students and the rooms. Right.." She muttered stupidly, suddenly wishing he'd stop looking at her like that.
"Yes," he said slowly, as if talking to a below-average child, "To Dumbledore's." With a glance at Harry and Ron he added, "Get lost Scar-Face and Sidekick," before turning on his heel and descending the steps with a swish of his cloak.
"Hasn't really changed, has he?" Harry mused, grabbing the back of Ron's cloak before he propelled himself at Malfoy. It was rather odd how so much had happened to them over the summer. Now in their teens at age seventeen, the gang looked considerably different. Harry's hair had grown a bit longer, and with Hermione's help he'd been able to lose the glasses. His godfather, Sirius, no longer on the run, had taken him to one of the many exotic places he'd traveled to as a fugitive, and Harry was still freshly tanned, but with a scorching sun burn on his back. Other than that and, of course, his growth spurt and voice change, Harry looked and acted about the same as ever.
Ron, however, had seriously grown. His extra pudgy hands and face had turned out to be just baby-fat that really helped him spurt up several inches taller over the course of two years. He'd gotten into some pretty spiffy trouble with his mother this summer and was forced to degnome the garden every other day, run the chickens from the hatching coop to the reincarnation coop every week, and so on with endless tiring chores. Other than that, he'd practiced working out since fifth year and now has obtained excessive slim muscle. Of course, being Ron, he still wears baggy shirts so no one notices, but always makes sure to flaunt his spiky red hair.
Out of all three of them, though, Hermione's changed the most. She still has bushy hair and won't stop complaining, but now she also harbors graceful curves and a slim waistline. Her long legs are halfway covered with white socks that end in rather large but stylish one-inch high shoes. Ever since the ball with Victor Krum, she's sported her hair in a sort of half bun, which actually looks pretty good. Of course, she's still the bookworm she always was, but her number of dates has considerably increased.
"Not in personality at least." This came from Hermione, who was brave enough to voice what they'd all been thinking. Malfoy had turned from a skinny little boy with a pointed face into a handsome teenager with an air of masculinity that none could match. His muscles shone through his tight black shirts he wore that ended with black pants and the standard black robe of Hogwarts. If it weren't for his pale complexion and seriously blond hair, Draco's outfits closely resembled that of a bat.
"Well, come on, Mudblood!"
"Patience, Ferret Boy," she called back, quickly waving goodbye to Harry and Ron before sprinting down the stairs to catch up.
Malfoy's ears turning an angry red at her remark, but even so he waited for Hermione 'patiently.' "You take forever," he mumbled, "We were supposed to be there five minutes ago."
"Oh no. We are so late! Whatever shall we do?" She waved goodbye to Harry and Ron once more, seeing as they weren't moving. She probably wouldn't have a chance see them in the common room for a quite some time; she had her own dormitory now, one with Draco the Ferret. Her friends passed uneasy glances between each other and half waved back before slowly turning around and shuffling back up the steps to their dorms.
Hermione and Draco passed through the many twisting hallways, corridors and climbed numerous stairs before finally reaching the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. It immediately sprung to life and leaped aside at the word "Funcallick," permitting them forward into a swiveling staircase.
Hesitantly Hermione stepped onto one of these steps, closely followed by Malfoy. The stair slowly creaked to life, unwinding with the grinding of concrete and bringing them upward toward a landing like a backward drill. Hermione clutched nervously at the sturdy statue in the middle that decrypted a spread-winged Phoenix until the stair finally stopped revolving.
"Ah. So glad you've come." Dumbledore welcomed them from his seat on an ancient looking chair. "You're late, you know."
Malfoy shot Hermione a withering look.
"I must discuss with you the matters of these most unexpected and unwanted.events," Dumbledore continued in a tired voice. His age had never really struck Hermione until now, with his eyes sunken deep into his face and wrinkles folding all over his body like secondary robes. "You both are aware of your new station and the responsibility that comes with it, I presume?" He waited until they had both nodded before continuing in a rather rushed manner, "Your bags have been dropped off by your room, along with lists of things that you must be aware of and run as Head Students. I'm sure you both will be perfectly happy in the accommodations, and that you will work together nicely." A less subtle hint you couldn't have. Hermione wasn't sure she could last a day without beating Draco to a bloody pulp, but at least she'd try to restrain her temper. Or try to try, at least.
".Please make sure the other students are perfectly calm. All first years must be kept a special eye on, and complaints must be minimized with the events I have organized. Quidditch will, of course, be canceled, and this may cause some grudges from the other seventh years."
Malfoy's face quickly converted from a look of scandalized disbelief to cool dignity at these words and he nodded once in acknowledgment. The quick transformation in emotions was incredible.
"Further instructions are on the lists, I bid you farewell," he finished even more hurriedly. With those last words, they were shooed from the room and back into the cold stone hall by Madame Pomfrey, who had suddenly appeared amidst many other teachers, all looking nervous and determined. Snape, Hermione was quick to note, wasn't among them. The staff watched the two until the doors closed, some fidgeting, others standing stiff with tension.
"They must be leaving," Malfoy said. He turned to Hermione, who was once again clutching at the statue as if it were a matter of life and death, and continued unbelievingly rudely, "I bet Dumbledore won't last long, the fogy."
The revolving stairs shuddered to halt. "Despite his age, Dumbledore is a great wizard - even you should be able to see that," whispered Hermione, still rather unnerved despite the section she'd read about the magicked stairway in Hogwats; A History.
It was silent between the two of them as they headed up the fourth floor to collect their bags from the House Elf. Hermione still didn't agree with the slavery of these innocent little creatures, but after her club's extreme lack in success, she'd caved in to the fact that House Elves enjoyed their jobs.
Sure enough, a round eyed, tomato-nosed creature greeted them by the single torch, panting beside the loads of luggage, practically doubled over in exhaustion. She straightened to immediate attention, however, bowing so low that her long, thin nose scraped the ground.
"Master.(pant).Malfoy, Mistress Granger," she squeaked, "please allow.(pant). Mauri to.(pant).show you to your.(pant).rooms." With that she straightened slowly, still panting, and tapped the wall with her skinny little green finger twice and saying, "Pookie's Spooky." The place where she had tapped immediately became a small dot of oak. It began to reluctantly expand and twist into two large doors, on which a sign read on each, HEAD STUDENTS' DORMITORIES. A single doorknob seemingly Appaparated on the side of the doors and twisted itself open.
If this transformation wasn't amazing, the inside surely was. Hermione let out a small gasp of surprise. She walked gingerly into what was apparently the common room. A huge fire was roaring in the stylish brick fireplace on one huge wall, silver pokers resting beside it. A rich velvet carpet decorated the center of the vast floor, neatly polished wood showing from the end of the carpet in a neat overlapping rectangle. On the corners was nicely spaced mid-evil looking furniture. In the center of all this stood a single coffee table, the legs carved decoratively in the symbols of each house. Occasionally one of the animals would look up at them and yawn or roar. Two grand staircases bedecked with the same velvet carpet wound up and around out of side beyond the walls, probably to their personal rooms.
Malfoy sniffed disdainfully. "You.. Mocky or whatever, bring our bags in. I haven't seen such a lazy House Elf in all my life," he added as Mauri scrambled to pick up the heavy luggage and heave it inside. With several puffs and wheezes, she pushed and pulled Malfoy's bags hurriedly up the staircase that led to his room.
Draco strode confidently over to the couch, plopping himself down comfortably into the deep cushions as if all this splendor was nothing. With a wave of his wand, the pieces of parchment resting upon the surface of the coffee table floated lazily into his outstretched hand.
Meanwhile, Hermione was picking up her bags hastily before the House Elf returned. She was forced to use a levitating charm on some, but was willing to do anything before Mauri came down again and was forced to go through the same torture with her luggage. Besides, some of the stuff was quite delicate, and judging from the thump, thump of Malfoy's belongings, her valuables would most likely be ruined.
The winding staircase took her to a normal looking door that read with sloping silver letters HERMIONE GRANGER. Inside was a huge canopied bed hung with silver lining, great pillows arranged with care upon the flowing golden sheets. Chairs were stationed at the head of the bed, and a kind of rolling bench at the foot - just in front of another blazing fire. Two great windows facing each other on either side of the room revealed the huge green yard and lake outside, where a few tentacles were stretching lazily to the blazing sun above the glossy surface.
She dropped her bags onto the bed, stunned to feel the mattress' firm but soft texture. Sorely, she began to unpack, flexing her shoulders to rid them of the pain from her burden. Poor Mauri, she thought, refolding one of her shirts and placing it in a drawer. The little thing was a lot smaller than Hermione and couldn't even use a levitating charm to help with the burden, and yet she hadn't even uttered a word of complaint. Damn Malfoy.
Speaking of whom, she'd better hurry downstairs if she wanted to see the schedules, rules, and guides, too. Knowing Malfoy, he'd probably read the stuff and change it or throw it out just to hold the power over her head.
Draco was sitting on the couch, scanning over the many lists, separating them into three piles. When she arrived and sat hesitantly down beside him, he explained that the pile in his right hand were the immediate to-do lists, the one in his left was the rules list, and that the ones on the table were the later stuff. Hermione leaned over to look at the 'rules' list and saw, to her amazement, numbers running along the side that marked the amount of rules, and at the bottom was the number 1,564. The small list was obviously magicked somehow by Dumbledore.
"We are apparently supposed to call the students down for a meeting, and inform them of the teachers' hasty departure before handing out the schedules," Hermione read, plucking a pile of parchments off the table and placing it snugly into his right hand. "Of which you should have put in your right, Malfoy, not on the table."
"Whatever," he said dismissively. It was rather hard to concentrate with Hermione leaning over like that. She didn't realize it, being the innocent bookworm she was, but her breasts were pressing maddeningly against his arm. It was all Malfoy could do to keep from screaming. It would be fine with any one else - he'd had plenty of bed companions.but a Mudblood, of all people.
"So.. Shall we go on down to the Great Hall, then? The others shouldn't have left quite yet," he said, shooting up from the couch but just managing to strut on over to the door, even as he tried to shake off the tingling sensation of lust radiating all over his body. A MUDBLOOD! He thought savagely, twitching his arm where she had.leaned.. A STUPED HALF BREED! A MUDBLOOD!
Hermione, however, clueless for once, straightened her robes as she stood from the couch, holding the prewritten speech that Malfoy had dropped in her hand. Mauri scurried back into the room, sulking in the shadows towards the door where Malfoy stood. She slowly and with great effort opened the heavy oaks for him and Hermione, who bent down and thanked her greatly for her help. Mauri almost blushed, bowing again astonishingly low to the ground, this time almost letting her forehead touch.somehow.
They were wrong in their assumption that their peers would have stuck around in the Great Hall, but with a little help from the ghosts, the Prefects were soon herding everyone inside. From the vantage point of five foot five, unremarkable and rather shy Hermione, the sea of wizard hats and worried faces pouring into the Hall and seating themselves at their tables was quite unnerving, to say the least. She spared a glance for Malfoy, who seemed perfectly fine and almost bored.
Slowly, realizing that Malfoy was making no move to speak first (probably just to spite her), Hermione weakly coughed and tried to get everyone's attention. When this didn't work, she resorted to saying in a deep, booming voice that resounded in the hall, "The Headmaster has given Malfoy and I.." She trailed off, realizing that her voice was more like a squeak than anything. The whole Hall seemed to be watching her as she stood in front of the empty staff table, desperately trying to say something. She heard Malfoy give a small snicker at her futile attempts. She would not let him win.
"Um.I would like to have everyone's attention, please." Having done it, she realized that the school was already gazing at the pair with questions in their many, many eyes. Starting to sweat nervously, she continued, "The, er, Headmaster has, erm, given Malfoy and I, Hermione." She scanned the speech, but in her haste she'd lost her place. Desperately, her eyes wandered over the 'audience,' searching for a familiar, comforting face. She scanned over a snickering Parvarty and stupidly sneering Crabbe and Goyle, over to the Gryffindor table, where she spotted Ron and Harry, smiling weakly at her. Harry gave her the thumbs up sign, urging her on.
With a deep breath, Hermione smiled at them in appreciation, continuing from the place where she'd left off (and just found), saying notably less nervously from her friends' small acts of support, ".and I, Hermione, Head Students. As the entire staff (with the exception of Professor Binns) has just left, we are glad to say that we shall be temporary Headmasters here, running under Phoenix's care." She said the bird's name with confusion, as if unable to believe they'd be working for a bird, even a special one at that. "Your schedules are being handed out.. Malfoy?" she added under her breath. He merely gave a swish of his wand and whispered the word "Scattoro," causing the many schedules to soar from his hands to numerous random students at a time.
".. So it would be appreciated if you look over them after I've finished speaking. Now, incase any of you were wondering, Quidditch is obviously cancelled, and therefor the use of brooms are prohibited. Unless, of course, one has a strong desire to sweep." By now it was obvious that Professor McGonagall had written this. "As you can see on your schedules and would have heard from Dumbledore - if you were paying attention - the classes last only a week, and are being taught by the House Ghosts. This means no exams, but instead the year will be taken over for most of you.
"Please remain calm, all this will be settled, if not by the end of the year, shortly after."
Someone from the Slytherin table whispered with a scoff, "Since when has He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named been subdued so quickly?"
Many people agreed, but Hermione chose to ignore this, instead looking down at the script and reading vigorously onward, as if barreling through to the end where she would never have to read a speech again. Hopefully.
It went on to explain the normal precautions against rule breaking and things, and warned them all that punishments would be just like they always were. Hermione began to loose track of what she was saying, only four words revolving in her head: "End's near.. Keep going.."
With a sudden end, she was finished, and a triumphant smile spread across her lips. She was beautiful when she smiled, Malfoy noted reluctantly. He couldn't help but feel astonished by her bravery. Most girls would have shied away from the challenge if they were so fearful of it, but.. THINK MUDBLOOD! M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D!
Hermione heaved a sigh of relief as she watched her peers filter out from the Great Hall. She looked up (way up, he was at least seven inches taller) at Malfoy's face, and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "That's the best you can do?"
Draco gave her a wicked smile.
She'd seen nothing yet.
The passing days stuck in the same dorm with Draco was about the farthest thing from paradise there could be, and Hermione found herself frequently visiting Harry and Ron up at the dorms just to get away from Malfoy's sneers. They'd talk about this and that, but mostly about the rise of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and how they felt. Harry, apparently, had met a new friend over the summer with Sirius and had developed a new, rather deep and therapeutic side to him. In no time he had them talking and expressing their feelings about this kind of stuff, and Hermione found it increasingly less difficult to accept the events.
She was even (of course) able to balance the little homework they gotten with her extremely hard job of running the school with Ferret Boy, although being constantly so close to her enemy was taking its toll.
Malfoy, however much he called her Mudblood and complained about sharing an actual room with someone like her, seemed to be having a pretty not-so-bad time on the whole. Too bad Hermione couldn't say the same for herself.
Without Harry she'd probably have a nervous breakdown, what with her parents and many other friends out there, unsafe and unprotected. He was like a brother to her, always willing to lend a hand. Ron, however, was getting increasingly annoying - it was probably his way to deal with this kind of stuff and the guilt he placed on himself, but still, it was nerve grating to say the least. And she didn't have much patience with people any more thanks to Malfoy.
The reason for Ron's annoying behavior, however, was completely different than what she had expected. "Oi, Harry? You've seen her lately? She's got major curves!" Ron expressed one day after passing 'Mione in the hall outside. "I mean, who would've guessed!"
"Not me, that's for sure. Not much different on the inside, though."
"Bummer about her hair, though, huh? I bet we could get her some sort of Christmas present, though! It could be like those things in Daily Prophet Styles! You've seen the newest hair-tamer, haven't you? It may even be strong enough for-"
"You read Daily Prophet Styles?" Harry interrupted incrediculusly.
"NO!" Ron bellowed in disbelief, "OF COURSE NOT! Ginny was just talking to me it, suggested it, she did, for well.you, actually. But still, it might work."
"Me?" Harry raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and sprawling his long legs across the couch. "I don't need that kind of stuff!" He reached up and touched his puffing hair. "I.like it this way.."
Ron snorted. "Yeah right, Harry. Anyway.. She's, I mean, she's like a.a."
"A girl?"
"Yes! That's it! You've always been good with words!"
Harry laughed.
"Seriously, Harry.I mean, she's actually kind of pretty." Ron said this as if it were some kind of amazing, secret discovery.
"Yes. She's always been. Quite surprised you haven't notice, really. So Ron," he added, "What's your point?"
"Well. You know."
"No."
"You don't?"
"No, I mean no Ron, bad idea."
"Ah." There was a touch of disappointment in his voice before he immediately perked up again and called out "LAVENDAR!"
"Yep?" A feminine voice drifted over to them from the corner of the room, where Lavender was playing Slap Jack, Hits You Back with her friends.
"Will you go out with me?"
"Yeah, whatever."
Harry had to fight back a smile. Ron was almost exactly like his older twin brothers. They'd done the same thing for dances at the ball for the Triwizard Tournament. It didn't matter that there was nowhere to go, knowing Howgwarts, Harry wouldn't be surprised to find a random dating spa that appeared only when there was no other place available, or when the planets were aligned in a certain way or something of the sort.
"Well, we've got a potions in five minutes, better get ready."
Ron grinned wickedly. "Bye-bye Snape, hello Nick!" He said, pumping his arm into the air, referring to the much needed switch of potions teachers.
Harry grinned. It was true, not having Snape around was a pleasure, but as Hermione had pointed out it was a bit odd that he hadn't been with the rest of the staff a few days ago. He could've quit, but most likely not, knowing Snape and his extreme ego.
Hermione appeared in the doorway, if one could call a giant hole in the wall that, to walk with them down to potions, pulling both Harry and Ron by the hands out the door. "Come one," she said impatiently, somehow checking her watch. "We'll be late if you two don't hurry."
"Coming, coming," Harry said, pulling his hand from her grasp. Ron, however, made no attempt to do so. Harry smiled at him over a derisive snort.
On the midway to potions, however, Malfoy greeted her, excusing her (not very politely) from Ron and Harry, and drug her around the corner to where he made sure no one was looking. He looked back at her after checking the corners, something flickering in his eyes. "We must go back to the dorms," he whispered, leaning in. "Something has happened outside. I don't know why or how, but somehow one got in." He seemed actually pretty happy, but still worried. Probably for his own hide.
"One what?" Hermione whispered back.
"One giant, idiot! Where've you been?"
"Here. Duh."
Malfoy heaved a huge, fake sigh. "OK. Whatever. Dumbledore said he'd protect the dorms with magic, so we'd better filter everyone in." He spoke as if sad that he didn't know the spell so that he could reverse it and win popularity among He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Haha, sucker.
With a simple spell, Hermione contacted the Prefects of the school and told them what to do. She waited until they'd herded their students back through the halls from where they'd come from.
"Good. That's done," Hermione said, pocketing her wand. "Everyone's in their dorms, safe, apparently. I don't see what to do now, though, unless you want us to go up against the giant. Which I will not do," she added at his sly look. "And we still need to find out where she or he came from. I've read somewhere that it's hard to speak to giants, but with a particular potion that we can find in Snape's office, he or she should be blurting out her or his life story in no time."
"Hmm.you get the potion, I get the giant. How's that? Just tell me what to do and I will. They're so bloody stupid, anyway, even Freckle Face could take one on."
Choosing to ignore the comment about her friend Ron, Hermione said, "Don't be an idiot. You can't take on the giant yourself."
"What? Do you want to help, too?"
Hermione shook her head. After reading so many texts on Giants, the mere mention of the race drained her face of all blood. If Malfoy had read what she had, he wouldn't be acting so brave and cool now. "No.but still, you could get.What is that?" Hermione broke off, peering down the corridor curiously at a faint sort of rumble.
Footsteps were approaching steadily down the hall, tons and tons of footsteps marching loudly and in a synchronized fashion. As it got closer, though, it became apparent that only one pair of feet was making all the noise. One huge pair of feet. A deep kind of groan or grunt of some kind bellowed down the hallway from the source of the steps, the voice alone shaking dust from the ceiling. In seconds, Malfoy and Hermione were vibrating so hard from the Giant's (or, at least, they presumed it was a Giant's) bellows and steps, they were practically jumping up and down. Caught in a particularly nasty 'bump,' Hermione was forced to clutch wildly at a random solid object to keep from falling, and Malfoy was brought down to the ground beside her with a gag as the back of his collar was suddenly pulled harshly from his neck.
"IDIOT!" He practically screamed at her, swiftly grabbing her hand and wrenching it off his robes. Now the smelly, actually fuzzy and moldy looking toes could be seen around the corner, almost as tall as an overgrown first year. Sickly yellow toenails curled in front of it like weird claws. Despite his attempts to stay standing, however, Draco was knocked off his feet by the combined forces of Hermione's vigorous hand and the Giant's steadily approaching steps.
"STAY DOWN! THEY CAN'T SEE DOWN PAST THEIR ANKELS!" She yelled in his ear; the noise was so loud now they couldn't hear a thing. They rolled into a corner just as The Giant's slimy foot upturned the stones where they'd been laying. "NOW," she continued, screaming in his ear just to be heard, backing flat against the wall. She flew into the air for a second time before landing beside him once more. In a panicked sort of yell that sounded like a whisper, she screamed "TAKE OUT YOUR WAND AND ON MY COMMAND YELL AS LOUD AS YOU CAN 'SHRIVELO!' GOT IT?"
"NO!" Malfoy called back, but it didn't matter, the Giant away already turning away, up turning stones in the floor and seemingly wracking the whole of the school with his great bellows. Hermione pulled Draco up with her and bravely ran towards the back of the Giant with a look of death on her face, dodging and jumping (intentionally or unintentionally was a matter yet to be decided) out of the grimy heels' way. She pointed over her shoulder at him and must have cast a spell, because in an instant, Malfoy's ears stopped ringing with the Giant's huge nonsense bellows. Instead all he heard were his quiet pants and occasional sharp intakes as he was flown off course as he ran behind Hermione.
In an instant, Hermione spared him a glance and nodded. He could see little purple bubbles enclosing her ears as she stretched out her wand as opened her mouth. Malfoy quickly did the same, and screamed only to himself, "SHREEVLO!" A spurt of green light erupted from the end of his wand, the force propelling him backwards and onto the floor. He saw ahead of him Hermione doing the same, but instead of green, her wand exploded with purple. "Oops," he muttered.
He watched with baited breath as the two spells entwined, still holding his wand in front of his mid torso. Be the right spell, shrink or shrivel or whatever the giant.
A huge explosion of light and maybe noise, Malfoy didn't know, burst through the great hall. Hermione was slammed into a wall with a particularly nasty thud even visually, and Malfoy skidded backwards on his rear several yards, grimacing as his back snapped onto the cool flat stones.
After a few tentative seconds when nothing happened, Draco cautiously opened his eyes. Bounds of light were still jumped along the walls like overly energetic caterpillars, mixing with green, electric blue, and tons of florescent purple. He searched through half open eyes, but couldn't find the Giant anywhere.
Picking himself up slowly, wand still outstretched, he walked gingerly down the hall towards the bleeding heap that was Granger. He nudged her with his foot. When that didn't work he kicked her gently in the side, but that only rolled her over. Still keeping an eye on his surroundings and especially on the odd bounds of light that jumped this way and that, illuminating everything in the hall with eerie glows, Malfoy bent down by Hermione, checking to see if she was breathing.
"Mudblood?" He tried, voice echoing in his own ears. "HERMIONE!"
She didn't stir.
After a while, he remembered the purple earplugs that didn't allow any sound in. With a furrowing of his brow, he poked at it with his wand, not really knowing what that would accomplish. Surprisingly, it popped. He did this with his own earplugs and then bent down low into Granger's newly exposed ear. "HERMIONE!"
She stirred.
"CAN-YOU-HEAR-ME?"
Her bleeding head flopped to the side.
"WHAT-HAPPENED-TO-THE-GIANT?"
He watched her ruby lips move slightly, listening intently. She murmured something about a funny sounding spell before gasping slightly as if she'd broken a rib.
Uneducated in the 'art of healing,' Malfoy swore and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to bring her to the hospital wing immediately. On the list of instructions, Dumbledore had stated that the Hollow Hilda was willing to act as temporary nurse, so Hermione'd be healed in no time. Hopefully.
With one last look around the corridor, Malfoy conjured up a levitating charm and walked quickly up the flight of steps to the second floor where the hospital wing was located with Hermione bobbing eerily behind him, illuminated by the glum glow of the torch. No one was out of their rooms yet, although Peeves was floating around the ceiling calling out, "Malfoy, Foul Boy, the One and Only Ferret Boy!"
Draco chose to ignore this.
He limped through the doorway of Madame Pomfrey's former office, making sure to not bang up Hermione's head anymore than it already was. Hollow Hilda floated in almost exactly like Hermione was: head lolling from side to side, a vacant expression on her face, and limbs hung dangling from a body that looked as if it were supported by and invisible string. At the sight of Draco and Mudblood, however, she snapped to attention and immediately began fussing over them.
"Look at you two! What happened! No matter, no matter, don't try to explain. You. Blonde. Go lay down on a bed, I'll be with you in a moment to fix your leg. Give this girl to me.. Thank you.. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.she's in pretty bad condition. I'll be able to mend her up in a jiffy, though, don't you worry. Suppose you two got lost and stumbled upon the giant, huh? The House Elves are already searching.. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.." Her voice trailed off as she and Malfoy split directions, Hilda going to lay Hermione down (with the help of Dobby, who Malfoy didn't recognize and therefor didn't waste his time with), and Draco going over to a bed, resting his leg at last.
It hadn't started hurting until he'd gotten up the stair, but when the pain had come, it was apparent he'd twisted it somehow.
"Now, now, young girl, you stay still.. Yes, I know the exams are coming tomorrow.. Sure.beautiful winter day, yeah.." Hilda said absentmindedly, instructing Dobby on which potions to get and what to do with them as Hermione murmured senseless things. The little House Elf was also talking to Hermione, too, but in a much smaller and more worried voice as if he knew her somehow.
Draco sunk into the pillows, the old bed creaking beneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering how the Giant had gotten in and why Voldemort had sent such a reckless thing even though his faithful sernant's son was here. It wasn't as if he expected special courtesies, but it wasn't that hard to send something like a Death Eater through the Barrier, instead, was it? Didn't his father ask for his son's safety? He must've believed Draco could handle it, and he did.
But is that really the case?
Several minutes later he heard Hermione stir, muttering into her pillow things like "Aim for the back," and "The idiot.! I said Shrivelo! Not Shreevlo! Those two spells together are dangerous.!"
Soon, Hollow Hilda bustled into his own little curtained room, followed closely by Dobby. "This will hurt a bit, so try not to scream."
"Wha-? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! IT NEVER HURT LIKE THIS WITH MADAME- HEY! YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!" Malfoy bellowed, sitting upright in the bed, clutching at his ankle. A smug looking Hollow Hilda was floating above him with a scared looking Dobby standing below her, squirting a needle. "DON'T YOU EVER-"
"Oh no! You woke up...Hermyoon.! You bad, bad boy," she said, hearing Hermione's hoarse voice of, "Hello? What is this.?" Without a backward glance she hurriedly floated through the curtains once again over to Hermione's little compartment, leaving Malfoy gawking after her.
"Old Hag," he muttered, carefully getting out of bed. Surprisingly, his ankle had stopped throbbing, and was now reduced to normal size. Still, the point where the needle had entered was severely hurting. For once he missed Madam Pomfrey and her trusty ol' wand.
Draco walked towards the door, trying to slip into his dorms where he could think. Instead, on his way out, two other seventh years, one tall and lanky with jet black hair and a jagged scar on his forehead, the other with scary red hair and a sprinkling of freckles strewn over his face, came hurtling though the door, shoving Malfoy out of the way in their haste to get in.
Harry rushed over to Hollow Hilda, followed quickly by Ron, and asked breathlessly where Hermione was.
"She's.she's over there," Hilda said, pointing to a compartment to their left. She was making a potion of some sort, or rather instructing Dobby in how to make it, and was so involved in their argument ("SHE WON'T LIKE IT!" "SHUT UP, HOUSE ELF, I'M THE NURSE HERE, NOT YOU!") that she didn't even care to tell the boys to be quiet.
"HERMIONE! Are you OK?" This was from Harry, whose small silhouette shown through the curtains as he closed them around the three.
Ron: "We heard from Peeves that he saw you being carried up the stairs by Malfoy!"
Draco muttered under his breath for no particular reason, "Levitated her, not carried," as he seated himself by the door, massaging his stomach where Ron had elbowed him. He could bet his newest addition of the Firebolt that it had not been an accident.
Harry: "Hermione, are you OK? What'd he do? What happened? We got this message suddenly that went through the halls telling us to stay in the dormitories and wait for further instructions, did you send that?"
Ron's silhouette crouched by the head of still figure, saying, "'Mione?"
A weak voice sounded from on the bed. Hermione croaked, "Never.take.Hilda's.medicine." She appeared to be massaging her throat.
Relieved laughs came from Harry and Ron. "Glad to see you're OK. Come up to the dorms when you're ready, K? See ya," Harry called as Hilda came back in with Dobby, who was holding a nasty looking medicine of some sort.
Draco watched as they went back outside, twitching his cloak over his now purple leg. Damn Hilda.
In a few moments, Hermione walked out of the compartment, looking fresh and ready for whatever. Draco and her walked through the door and to their rooms, talking about what had happened.
"The spell that you shouted, Sheelvo, is a powerful charm that turns anything the wand is aimed at into something shriveled and miniature. The spell I told you to do would have, if two people'd done it, turned the Giant into something very, very small. Used on a normal human being, the victim would've become too tiny to be seen by the human eye, or microscopic. So, as you can see, the two spells did just that when they mixed, and so the Giant died, from your spell, as something even smaller than it was from my spell."
"What about the light?"
"Oh. That. Well, this is only a theory, but in order for the Giant to get in, it would've needed some sort of spell to pass the boundaries, right?"
Malfoy nodded, continuing for her, "So it would've had a spell wrapped around itself, which caused that spells, and possibly any other spell, to hit the spell-doers in a rebound as it hit the Giant."
"Exactly. Although it's not spell-doers, it's-"
"Close enough." What really bothered Malfoy now, even more, was that his father would have known Draco would be appointed Head Boy, so he'd be forced to take on the giant with its little force feild. But still, he'd not said anything to Voldemort. Maybe they wanted to get Granger, knowing she'd be a nuisance, but at the expense of Luscious' own son?
"No."
"Dumbledore! It is for the safety of the students! If they do not go home, their lives will be in danger!"
"Do you seriously think, my dear Minerva, that the children will be safer in completely unprotected and open places than under my supervision?" Dumbledore eyed a distraught looking professor McGonagall under his half moon spectacles. The twinkle in his eye had gone, replaced with the steely glint of determination.
"Well, I believe that this school is a target of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and that the.the whole of the." Mcgonagall trailed off in realization that she had no idea what to say. "Headmaster!" She started again, gathering her scattered thoughts once more. "Hogwarts is under direct attack! No matter your powers, so many Death Eaters and Dementors, possibly even Giants will be slipping through the barriers! We've already lost-"
"I know. But think. Think of what would happen to them the second they left. It's too late now, professor, we're already surrounded."
"They just want the boy, they just want the power," Minerva whispered, sinking into a chair. "Isn't there anything? Anything at all? A - a way to stop this?"
"No. We keep the students here. Block off all contact, just for incase. Many parents have already asked us to take care of the children. It's not safe, Minerva. Even here."
The wrinkled woman's prim appearance sagged even more into the fluffy pillows of the chair. Many pre-headmasters shared her feelings - their pictures on the walls were portraying not the fun, strict, whatever principles of Hogwarts they were, but all harbored the same bleak look and weighed down expressions.
Phoenix still seemed normal as ever, however, singing a little Phoenix tune, the only uplifting part of the atmosphere. How she could do it, Mconagall didn't know.
"We'll get ready. Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy have already been assigned Head Girl and Boy. While the staff is gone, hopefully they will look after the school. Mr. Potter is Prefect as well as Ronald Weasely.." She trailed off, looking skeptically at Dumbledore. "Are you sure they'll-?"
"I believe I chose well, Minerva. They will do just fine. Besides, Phoenix here will watch over everyone."
Normally, appointing a bird temporary Headmaster of a very popular Wizardring School would be considered insane and a dejavou of Coligula, but Phoenix was most definitely not an ordinary bird. As for the two Head Students...appointing two rivals together to share a common room and a difficult job didn't seem at all in any sense sane. Even in the wizardring world. It was in moments like these that Minerva understood some of the complaints and rumors about Albus.
A twinkle lit up in Dumbledore's eyes again. "I believe we should share a final feast with the students before informing them.I'm sure some students," it was obvious who he was referring to (Weasely, Potter, Granger, and Malfoy), "will be quite shocked."
"Let's hope not too much so."
"Yes, let's hope."
Back in the Great Hall, it was a considerably different environment. Chatter and laughter rumbled over the four house tables of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. The First Years had already been sorted, with only five landing in Gryffindor and twelve in Slytherin. Harry was seated beside Hermione and across from Ron, who was talking nonstop like everyone else.
"I can't believe it! Did you see the Daily Prophet? It had my picture in it!" He held the article up proudly, reading, "'Ron Weasely, a seventh year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just last night won the newest release of the Firebolt 2005!' See, 'Mione, that's me there, holding the fastest broom in the world!" He said, smiling smugly.
"Wow, Ron. And tomorrow it will be the second fastest broom in the world! Just you wait," she said, turning to Harry, "I'll bet three galleons that the 2006 comes out in a week. You know how quickly your 'fastest broom in the world' went out of style!"
"Don' iswult da fia-bow," Harry said through half his dinner.
"Ew. I said say it, don't spray it," Hermione muttered under her breath, wiping the tablecloth clean beside her plate.
"Humph. Well, you'll see 'Mione, my Firebolt 2005 will definitely earn me a place on the Quiditch Team."
Hermione snorted, stuffing her nose back into her newest 'light reading book' of Magic and Spells; Grade Seven.
Suddenly, a hush began to slowly fall over the four tables as Dumbledore reappeared by his chair, standing tall and surveying the many students. Hermione and Harry twisted around to watch him make his (or what was presumed to be) traditional speech for their last year.
"I am delighted to see that you've already begun your feast. If you would pause a moment, please allow me the courtesy of your full attention. Not to say any names, Seamus." Pausing to wait for Diggory to look up from his plate, red around the ears and neck, the aged Wizard continued, peering at them all very gravely. "I have some news of the utmost important, and I am afraid I must be blunt with you - I see no point in trying to make this any easier.. Voldemort has risen to power once again."
Panicked and disbelieving whispers erupted from the Hall - students swerved around on their benches to get a better look at Dumbledore and see if what they heard were true. He held out his hand and once again a silence descended upon the sea of students.
"You will remain here, obeying your new Head Girl and Boy, Hermione Granger - Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy - Slytherin ("WHAT?! ME WITH MALFOY!?"). They will be located on the fourth floor, just knock on the wall by the torch if you need them.
"The staff will be leaving to help the Ministry of Magic fight off the Dark Lord for the time being, although some of us will remain on these grounds, fighting off the Death Eaters. By no means will you leave the castle." He paused to let the whispers spread, before holding up a silencing hand once more. "This has been requested by your parents, as Hogwarts under my protection is the safest place there is until all this is solved."
"Which could very well be never," muttered Neville, pale and frightened.
"If you have any questions, please fell free to ask your teachers and Head of Houses, as I'm sure they'd be delighted to help. You will, of course, have homework to occupy yourselves, and I've asked the ghosts to teach you. However, many of your classes will be dropped, and the ghosts only have enough patience for a week.
"Now, before you begin, I must inform you that there will be no contact whatsoever with anyone or anything outside this building, as nothing and no one is allowed to leave. This means that the owl post is canceled, and Hogsmead has temporarily closed to all visitors." He looked over the sea of people. "That is all."
Hermione gawked, Harry swore, and Ron dropped his article into the soup. Practically everyone else had about the same reaction - only Dumbledore began to eat smiling and talking at the other teachers with false merriment.
Ron's face shone with a mixture guilt and horror. "This is all my fault," he whispered, not even bothering to pick out his dripping article. "I let him get away.. Scabbers.. It was me.."
"Ron! Don't be ridiculous! It's no more your fault than it is Crookshank's!"
"Yeah, Ron, you did nothing," said Harry soothingly, propelling his friend from his seat. "C'mon, let's go to the tower. I-I'm sure everything will be fine. 'Mione?"
Hermione stuffed her book into her bag, suddenly looking up at the staff's table with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Hey.where's Snape?" she asked suddenly, pointing towards the empty potions seat. "He hasn't been here throughout the entire meal!"
"Probably kissing Voldemort's feet. You know, sucking up to the power," Ron managed with an evil glare. His face was deathly pale; bright blue eyes standing out against his flaming hair and previously white face. "Ugh. Poor dad. Probably all messed up in this."
Personally, Hermione was having a pretty hard time accepting Voldemort's rise, and so she didn't even try. Deciding to focus on one thing at a time, she went over Dumbledore's words of her and Malfoy being Head Students, which, under the circumstances, meant that they would have virtually all the decision power in this school. Rather like the consuls in ancient Roman times.
Wasn't there something else he had said, though? Something about a torch and a wall. She'd been so shocked to hear about Voldemort, her mind hadn't started working again until about five seconds later.
They headed upstairs to their dorms, no longer hungry. Some other kids left, too, but the majority stayed down in the Hall, probably confused and frightened.
"So, Mudblood, you scared?" A cold, sneering voice greeted her from behind the staircase. The trio turned to see pale, vampirish Malfoy leering up at them smugly. "I bet your parents are. Nothing to protect them or their precious half-witch. To bad Voldemort favors only pure bloods, eh Crabbe?"
Piggish Crabbe, standing buffly by Malfoy with his arms crossed nodded stupidly as if he were banging his head against a wall. Goyle grinned menacingly at Harry, knowing that he remembered their last encounter.
"Malfoy, if you've nothing better to do with your time than bug us, I suggest you find yourself a life." This came, surprisingly, from Hermione, who had merely rolled her eyes heavenward at Draco's cold remarks.
Malfoy, who looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening with surprise, opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something mean in return, but couldn't think of anything. Instead he just flicked his eyes over her as if he didn't really believe she would say something like that, and managed to say, "Soon, you may not have one," with another well placed sneer.
"I came here for a reason, however, Mudblood. Dumbledore wants us in his office now. Not only are you a half blood, you're a stupid one at that," he muttered, once again surveying her. Hermione tried not to squirm under his gaze, and bit her tongue before she let anything else rude slip. He deserved it, but she wasn't going to sink to his level.
"Why-? Oh. Right. Head Students and the rooms. Right.." She muttered stupidly, suddenly wishing he'd stop looking at her like that.
"Yes," he said slowly, as if talking to a below-average child, "To Dumbledore's." With a glance at Harry and Ron he added, "Get lost Scar-Face and Sidekick," before turning on his heel and descending the steps with a swish of his cloak.
"Hasn't really changed, has he?" Harry mused, grabbing the back of Ron's cloak before he propelled himself at Malfoy. It was rather odd how so much had happened to them over the summer. Now in their teens at age seventeen, the gang looked considerably different. Harry's hair had grown a bit longer, and with Hermione's help he'd been able to lose the glasses. His godfather, Sirius, no longer on the run, had taken him to one of the many exotic places he'd traveled to as a fugitive, and Harry was still freshly tanned, but with a scorching sun burn on his back. Other than that and, of course, his growth spurt and voice change, Harry looked and acted about the same as ever.
Ron, however, had seriously grown. His extra pudgy hands and face had turned out to be just baby-fat that really helped him spurt up several inches taller over the course of two years. He'd gotten into some pretty spiffy trouble with his mother this summer and was forced to degnome the garden every other day, run the chickens from the hatching coop to the reincarnation coop every week, and so on with endless tiring chores. Other than that, he'd practiced working out since fifth year and now has obtained excessive slim muscle. Of course, being Ron, he still wears baggy shirts so no one notices, but always makes sure to flaunt his spiky red hair.
Out of all three of them, though, Hermione's changed the most. She still has bushy hair and won't stop complaining, but now she also harbors graceful curves and a slim waistline. Her long legs are halfway covered with white socks that end in rather large but stylish one-inch high shoes. Ever since the ball with Victor Krum, she's sported her hair in a sort of half bun, which actually looks pretty good. Of course, she's still the bookworm she always was, but her number of dates has considerably increased.
"Not in personality at least." This came from Hermione, who was brave enough to voice what they'd all been thinking. Malfoy had turned from a skinny little boy with a pointed face into a handsome teenager with an air of masculinity that none could match. His muscles shone through his tight black shirts he wore that ended with black pants and the standard black robe of Hogwarts. If it weren't for his pale complexion and seriously blond hair, Draco's outfits closely resembled that of a bat.
"Well, come on, Mudblood!"
"Patience, Ferret Boy," she called back, quickly waving goodbye to Harry and Ron before sprinting down the stairs to catch up.
Malfoy's ears turning an angry red at her remark, but even so he waited for Hermione 'patiently.' "You take forever," he mumbled, "We were supposed to be there five minutes ago."
"Oh no. We are so late! Whatever shall we do?" She waved goodbye to Harry and Ron once more, seeing as they weren't moving. She probably wouldn't have a chance see them in the common room for a quite some time; she had her own dormitory now, one with Draco the Ferret. Her friends passed uneasy glances between each other and half waved back before slowly turning around and shuffling back up the steps to their dorms.
Hermione and Draco passed through the many twisting hallways, corridors and climbed numerous stairs before finally reaching the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. It immediately sprung to life and leaped aside at the word "Funcallick," permitting them forward into a swiveling staircase.
Hesitantly Hermione stepped onto one of these steps, closely followed by Malfoy. The stair slowly creaked to life, unwinding with the grinding of concrete and bringing them upward toward a landing like a backward drill. Hermione clutched nervously at the sturdy statue in the middle that decrypted a spread-winged Phoenix until the stair finally stopped revolving.
"Ah. So glad you've come." Dumbledore welcomed them from his seat on an ancient looking chair. "You're late, you know."
Malfoy shot Hermione a withering look.
"I must discuss with you the matters of these most unexpected and unwanted.events," Dumbledore continued in a tired voice. His age had never really struck Hermione until now, with his eyes sunken deep into his face and wrinkles folding all over his body like secondary robes. "You both are aware of your new station and the responsibility that comes with it, I presume?" He waited until they had both nodded before continuing in a rather rushed manner, "Your bags have been dropped off by your room, along with lists of things that you must be aware of and run as Head Students. I'm sure you both will be perfectly happy in the accommodations, and that you will work together nicely." A less subtle hint you couldn't have. Hermione wasn't sure she could last a day without beating Draco to a bloody pulp, but at least she'd try to restrain her temper. Or try to try, at least.
".Please make sure the other students are perfectly calm. All first years must be kept a special eye on, and complaints must be minimized with the events I have organized. Quidditch will, of course, be canceled, and this may cause some grudges from the other seventh years."
Malfoy's face quickly converted from a look of scandalized disbelief to cool dignity at these words and he nodded once in acknowledgment. The quick transformation in emotions was incredible.
"Further instructions are on the lists, I bid you farewell," he finished even more hurriedly. With those last words, they were shooed from the room and back into the cold stone hall by Madame Pomfrey, who had suddenly appeared amidst many other teachers, all looking nervous and determined. Snape, Hermione was quick to note, wasn't among them. The staff watched the two until the doors closed, some fidgeting, others standing stiff with tension.
"They must be leaving," Malfoy said. He turned to Hermione, who was once again clutching at the statue as if it were a matter of life and death, and continued unbelievingly rudely, "I bet Dumbledore won't last long, the fogy."
The revolving stairs shuddered to halt. "Despite his age, Dumbledore is a great wizard - even you should be able to see that," whispered Hermione, still rather unnerved despite the section she'd read about the magicked stairway in Hogwats; A History.
It was silent between the two of them as they headed up the fourth floor to collect their bags from the House Elf. Hermione still didn't agree with the slavery of these innocent little creatures, but after her club's extreme lack in success, she'd caved in to the fact that House Elves enjoyed their jobs.
Sure enough, a round eyed, tomato-nosed creature greeted them by the single torch, panting beside the loads of luggage, practically doubled over in exhaustion. She straightened to immediate attention, however, bowing so low that her long, thin nose scraped the ground.
"Master.(pant).Malfoy, Mistress Granger," she squeaked, "please allow.(pant). Mauri to.(pant).show you to your.(pant).rooms." With that she straightened slowly, still panting, and tapped the wall with her skinny little green finger twice and saying, "Pookie's Spooky." The place where she had tapped immediately became a small dot of oak. It began to reluctantly expand and twist into two large doors, on which a sign read on each, HEAD STUDENTS' DORMITORIES. A single doorknob seemingly Appaparated on the side of the doors and twisted itself open.
If this transformation wasn't amazing, the inside surely was. Hermione let out a small gasp of surprise. She walked gingerly into what was apparently the common room. A huge fire was roaring in the stylish brick fireplace on one huge wall, silver pokers resting beside it. A rich velvet carpet decorated the center of the vast floor, neatly polished wood showing from the end of the carpet in a neat overlapping rectangle. On the corners was nicely spaced mid-evil looking furniture. In the center of all this stood a single coffee table, the legs carved decoratively in the symbols of each house. Occasionally one of the animals would look up at them and yawn or roar. Two grand staircases bedecked with the same velvet carpet wound up and around out of side beyond the walls, probably to their personal rooms.
Malfoy sniffed disdainfully. "You.. Mocky or whatever, bring our bags in. I haven't seen such a lazy House Elf in all my life," he added as Mauri scrambled to pick up the heavy luggage and heave it inside. With several puffs and wheezes, she pushed and pulled Malfoy's bags hurriedly up the staircase that led to his room.
Draco strode confidently over to the couch, plopping himself down comfortably into the deep cushions as if all this splendor was nothing. With a wave of his wand, the pieces of parchment resting upon the surface of the coffee table floated lazily into his outstretched hand.
Meanwhile, Hermione was picking up her bags hastily before the House Elf returned. She was forced to use a levitating charm on some, but was willing to do anything before Mauri came down again and was forced to go through the same torture with her luggage. Besides, some of the stuff was quite delicate, and judging from the thump, thump of Malfoy's belongings, her valuables would most likely be ruined.
The winding staircase took her to a normal looking door that read with sloping silver letters HERMIONE GRANGER. Inside was a huge canopied bed hung with silver lining, great pillows arranged with care upon the flowing golden sheets. Chairs were stationed at the head of the bed, and a kind of rolling bench at the foot - just in front of another blazing fire. Two great windows facing each other on either side of the room revealed the huge green yard and lake outside, where a few tentacles were stretching lazily to the blazing sun above the glossy surface.
She dropped her bags onto the bed, stunned to feel the mattress' firm but soft texture. Sorely, she began to unpack, flexing her shoulders to rid them of the pain from her burden. Poor Mauri, she thought, refolding one of her shirts and placing it in a drawer. The little thing was a lot smaller than Hermione and couldn't even use a levitating charm to help with the burden, and yet she hadn't even uttered a word of complaint. Damn Malfoy.
Speaking of whom, she'd better hurry downstairs if she wanted to see the schedules, rules, and guides, too. Knowing Malfoy, he'd probably read the stuff and change it or throw it out just to hold the power over her head.
Draco was sitting on the couch, scanning over the many lists, separating them into three piles. When she arrived and sat hesitantly down beside him, he explained that the pile in his right hand were the immediate to-do lists, the one in his left was the rules list, and that the ones on the table were the later stuff. Hermione leaned over to look at the 'rules' list and saw, to her amazement, numbers running along the side that marked the amount of rules, and at the bottom was the number 1,564. The small list was obviously magicked somehow by Dumbledore.
"We are apparently supposed to call the students down for a meeting, and inform them of the teachers' hasty departure before handing out the schedules," Hermione read, plucking a pile of parchments off the table and placing it snugly into his right hand. "Of which you should have put in your right, Malfoy, not on the table."
"Whatever," he said dismissively. It was rather hard to concentrate with Hermione leaning over like that. She didn't realize it, being the innocent bookworm she was, but her breasts were pressing maddeningly against his arm. It was all Malfoy could do to keep from screaming. It would be fine with any one else - he'd had plenty of bed companions.but a Mudblood, of all people.
"So.. Shall we go on down to the Great Hall, then? The others shouldn't have left quite yet," he said, shooting up from the couch but just managing to strut on over to the door, even as he tried to shake off the tingling sensation of lust radiating all over his body. A MUDBLOOD! He thought savagely, twitching his arm where she had.leaned.. A STUPED HALF BREED! A MUDBLOOD!
Hermione, however, clueless for once, straightened her robes as she stood from the couch, holding the prewritten speech that Malfoy had dropped in her hand. Mauri scurried back into the room, sulking in the shadows towards the door where Malfoy stood. She slowly and with great effort opened the heavy oaks for him and Hermione, who bent down and thanked her greatly for her help. Mauri almost blushed, bowing again astonishingly low to the ground, this time almost letting her forehead touch.somehow.
They were wrong in their assumption that their peers would have stuck around in the Great Hall, but with a little help from the ghosts, the Prefects were soon herding everyone inside. From the vantage point of five foot five, unremarkable and rather shy Hermione, the sea of wizard hats and worried faces pouring into the Hall and seating themselves at their tables was quite unnerving, to say the least. She spared a glance for Malfoy, who seemed perfectly fine and almost bored.
Slowly, realizing that Malfoy was making no move to speak first (probably just to spite her), Hermione weakly coughed and tried to get everyone's attention. When this didn't work, she resorted to saying in a deep, booming voice that resounded in the hall, "The Headmaster has given Malfoy and I.." She trailed off, realizing that her voice was more like a squeak than anything. The whole Hall seemed to be watching her as she stood in front of the empty staff table, desperately trying to say something. She heard Malfoy give a small snicker at her futile attempts. She would not let him win.
"Um.I would like to have everyone's attention, please." Having done it, she realized that the school was already gazing at the pair with questions in their many, many eyes. Starting to sweat nervously, she continued, "The, er, Headmaster has, erm, given Malfoy and I, Hermione." She scanned the speech, but in her haste she'd lost her place. Desperately, her eyes wandered over the 'audience,' searching for a familiar, comforting face. She scanned over a snickering Parvarty and stupidly sneering Crabbe and Goyle, over to the Gryffindor table, where she spotted Ron and Harry, smiling weakly at her. Harry gave her the thumbs up sign, urging her on.
With a deep breath, Hermione smiled at them in appreciation, continuing from the place where she'd left off (and just found), saying notably less nervously from her friends' small acts of support, ".and I, Hermione, Head Students. As the entire staff (with the exception of Professor Binns) has just left, we are glad to say that we shall be temporary Headmasters here, running under Phoenix's care." She said the bird's name with confusion, as if unable to believe they'd be working for a bird, even a special one at that. "Your schedules are being handed out.. Malfoy?" she added under her breath. He merely gave a swish of his wand and whispered the word "Scattoro," causing the many schedules to soar from his hands to numerous random students at a time.
".. So it would be appreciated if you look over them after I've finished speaking. Now, incase any of you were wondering, Quidditch is obviously cancelled, and therefor the use of brooms are prohibited. Unless, of course, one has a strong desire to sweep." By now it was obvious that Professor McGonagall had written this. "As you can see on your schedules and would have heard from Dumbledore - if you were paying attention - the classes last only a week, and are being taught by the House Ghosts. This means no exams, but instead the year will be taken over for most of you.
"Please remain calm, all this will be settled, if not by the end of the year, shortly after."
Someone from the Slytherin table whispered with a scoff, "Since when has He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named been subdued so quickly?"
Many people agreed, but Hermione chose to ignore this, instead looking down at the script and reading vigorously onward, as if barreling through to the end where she would never have to read a speech again. Hopefully.
It went on to explain the normal precautions against rule breaking and things, and warned them all that punishments would be just like they always were. Hermione began to loose track of what she was saying, only four words revolving in her head: "End's near.. Keep going.."
With a sudden end, she was finished, and a triumphant smile spread across her lips. She was beautiful when she smiled, Malfoy noted reluctantly. He couldn't help but feel astonished by her bravery. Most girls would have shied away from the challenge if they were so fearful of it, but.. THINK MUDBLOOD! M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D!
Hermione heaved a sigh of relief as she watched her peers filter out from the Great Hall. She looked up (way up, he was at least seven inches taller) at Malfoy's face, and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "That's the best you can do?"
Draco gave her a wicked smile.
She'd seen nothing yet.
The passing days stuck in the same dorm with Draco was about the farthest thing from paradise there could be, and Hermione found herself frequently visiting Harry and Ron up at the dorms just to get away from Malfoy's sneers. They'd talk about this and that, but mostly about the rise of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and how they felt. Harry, apparently, had met a new friend over the summer with Sirius and had developed a new, rather deep and therapeutic side to him. In no time he had them talking and expressing their feelings about this kind of stuff, and Hermione found it increasingly less difficult to accept the events.
She was even (of course) able to balance the little homework they gotten with her extremely hard job of running the school with Ferret Boy, although being constantly so close to her enemy was taking its toll.
Malfoy, however much he called her Mudblood and complained about sharing an actual room with someone like her, seemed to be having a pretty not-so-bad time on the whole. Too bad Hermione couldn't say the same for herself.
Without Harry she'd probably have a nervous breakdown, what with her parents and many other friends out there, unsafe and unprotected. He was like a brother to her, always willing to lend a hand. Ron, however, was getting increasingly annoying - it was probably his way to deal with this kind of stuff and the guilt he placed on himself, but still, it was nerve grating to say the least. And she didn't have much patience with people any more thanks to Malfoy.
The reason for Ron's annoying behavior, however, was completely different than what she had expected. "Oi, Harry? You've seen her lately? She's got major curves!" Ron expressed one day after passing 'Mione in the hall outside. "I mean, who would've guessed!"
"Not me, that's for sure. Not much different on the inside, though."
"Bummer about her hair, though, huh? I bet we could get her some sort of Christmas present, though! It could be like those things in Daily Prophet Styles! You've seen the newest hair-tamer, haven't you? It may even be strong enough for-"
"You read Daily Prophet Styles?" Harry interrupted incrediculusly.
"NO!" Ron bellowed in disbelief, "OF COURSE NOT! Ginny was just talking to me it, suggested it, she did, for well.you, actually. But still, it might work."
"Me?" Harry raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and sprawling his long legs across the couch. "I don't need that kind of stuff!" He reached up and touched his puffing hair. "I.like it this way.."
Ron snorted. "Yeah right, Harry. Anyway.. She's, I mean, she's like a.a."
"A girl?"
"Yes! That's it! You've always been good with words!"
Harry laughed.
"Seriously, Harry.I mean, she's actually kind of pretty." Ron said this as if it were some kind of amazing, secret discovery.
"Yes. She's always been. Quite surprised you haven't notice, really. So Ron," he added, "What's your point?"
"Well. You know."
"No."
"You don't?"
"No, I mean no Ron, bad idea."
"Ah." There was a touch of disappointment in his voice before he immediately perked up again and called out "LAVENDAR!"
"Yep?" A feminine voice drifted over to them from the corner of the room, where Lavender was playing Slap Jack, Hits You Back with her friends.
"Will you go out with me?"
"Yeah, whatever."
Harry had to fight back a smile. Ron was almost exactly like his older twin brothers. They'd done the same thing for dances at the ball for the Triwizard Tournament. It didn't matter that there was nowhere to go, knowing Howgwarts, Harry wouldn't be surprised to find a random dating spa that appeared only when there was no other place available, or when the planets were aligned in a certain way or something of the sort.
"Well, we've got a potions in five minutes, better get ready."
Ron grinned wickedly. "Bye-bye Snape, hello Nick!" He said, pumping his arm into the air, referring to the much needed switch of potions teachers.
Harry grinned. It was true, not having Snape around was a pleasure, but as Hermione had pointed out it was a bit odd that he hadn't been with the rest of the staff a few days ago. He could've quit, but most likely not, knowing Snape and his extreme ego.
Hermione appeared in the doorway, if one could call a giant hole in the wall that, to walk with them down to potions, pulling both Harry and Ron by the hands out the door. "Come one," she said impatiently, somehow checking her watch. "We'll be late if you two don't hurry."
"Coming, coming," Harry said, pulling his hand from her grasp. Ron, however, made no attempt to do so. Harry smiled at him over a derisive snort.
On the midway to potions, however, Malfoy greeted her, excusing her (not very politely) from Ron and Harry, and drug her around the corner to where he made sure no one was looking. He looked back at her after checking the corners, something flickering in his eyes. "We must go back to the dorms," he whispered, leaning in. "Something has happened outside. I don't know why or how, but somehow one got in." He seemed actually pretty happy, but still worried. Probably for his own hide.
"One what?" Hermione whispered back.
"One giant, idiot! Where've you been?"
"Here. Duh."
Malfoy heaved a huge, fake sigh. "OK. Whatever. Dumbledore said he'd protect the dorms with magic, so we'd better filter everyone in." He spoke as if sad that he didn't know the spell so that he could reverse it and win popularity among He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Haha, sucker.
With a simple spell, Hermione contacted the Prefects of the school and told them what to do. She waited until they'd herded their students back through the halls from where they'd come from.
"Good. That's done," Hermione said, pocketing her wand. "Everyone's in their dorms, safe, apparently. I don't see what to do now, though, unless you want us to go up against the giant. Which I will not do," she added at his sly look. "And we still need to find out where she or he came from. I've read somewhere that it's hard to speak to giants, but with a particular potion that we can find in Snape's office, he or she should be blurting out her or his life story in no time."
"Hmm.you get the potion, I get the giant. How's that? Just tell me what to do and I will. They're so bloody stupid, anyway, even Freckle Face could take one on."
Choosing to ignore the comment about her friend Ron, Hermione said, "Don't be an idiot. You can't take on the giant yourself."
"What? Do you want to help, too?"
Hermione shook her head. After reading so many texts on Giants, the mere mention of the race drained her face of all blood. If Malfoy had read what she had, he wouldn't be acting so brave and cool now. "No.but still, you could get.What is that?" Hermione broke off, peering down the corridor curiously at a faint sort of rumble.
Footsteps were approaching steadily down the hall, tons and tons of footsteps marching loudly and in a synchronized fashion. As it got closer, though, it became apparent that only one pair of feet was making all the noise. One huge pair of feet. A deep kind of groan or grunt of some kind bellowed down the hallway from the source of the steps, the voice alone shaking dust from the ceiling. In seconds, Malfoy and Hermione were vibrating so hard from the Giant's (or, at least, they presumed it was a Giant's) bellows and steps, they were practically jumping up and down. Caught in a particularly nasty 'bump,' Hermione was forced to clutch wildly at a random solid object to keep from falling, and Malfoy was brought down to the ground beside her with a gag as the back of his collar was suddenly pulled harshly from his neck.
"IDIOT!" He practically screamed at her, swiftly grabbing her hand and wrenching it off his robes. Now the smelly, actually fuzzy and moldy looking toes could be seen around the corner, almost as tall as an overgrown first year. Sickly yellow toenails curled in front of it like weird claws. Despite his attempts to stay standing, however, Draco was knocked off his feet by the combined forces of Hermione's vigorous hand and the Giant's steadily approaching steps.
"STAY DOWN! THEY CAN'T SEE DOWN PAST THEIR ANKELS!" She yelled in his ear; the noise was so loud now they couldn't hear a thing. They rolled into a corner just as The Giant's slimy foot upturned the stones where they'd been laying. "NOW," she continued, screaming in his ear just to be heard, backing flat against the wall. She flew into the air for a second time before landing beside him once more. In a panicked sort of yell that sounded like a whisper, she screamed "TAKE OUT YOUR WAND AND ON MY COMMAND YELL AS LOUD AS YOU CAN 'SHRIVELO!' GOT IT?"
"NO!" Malfoy called back, but it didn't matter, the Giant away already turning away, up turning stones in the floor and seemingly wracking the whole of the school with his great bellows. Hermione pulled Draco up with her and bravely ran towards the back of the Giant with a look of death on her face, dodging and jumping (intentionally or unintentionally was a matter yet to be decided) out of the grimy heels' way. She pointed over her shoulder at him and must have cast a spell, because in an instant, Malfoy's ears stopped ringing with the Giant's huge nonsense bellows. Instead all he heard were his quiet pants and occasional sharp intakes as he was flown off course as he ran behind Hermione.
In an instant, Hermione spared him a glance and nodded. He could see little purple bubbles enclosing her ears as she stretched out her wand as opened her mouth. Malfoy quickly did the same, and screamed only to himself, "SHREEVLO!" A spurt of green light erupted from the end of his wand, the force propelling him backwards and onto the floor. He saw ahead of him Hermione doing the same, but instead of green, her wand exploded with purple. "Oops," he muttered.
He watched with baited breath as the two spells entwined, still holding his wand in front of his mid torso. Be the right spell, shrink or shrivel or whatever the giant.
A huge explosion of light and maybe noise, Malfoy didn't know, burst through the great hall. Hermione was slammed into a wall with a particularly nasty thud even visually, and Malfoy skidded backwards on his rear several yards, grimacing as his back snapped onto the cool flat stones.
After a few tentative seconds when nothing happened, Draco cautiously opened his eyes. Bounds of light were still jumped along the walls like overly energetic caterpillars, mixing with green, electric blue, and tons of florescent purple. He searched through half open eyes, but couldn't find the Giant anywhere.
Picking himself up slowly, wand still outstretched, he walked gingerly down the hall towards the bleeding heap that was Granger. He nudged her with his foot. When that didn't work he kicked her gently in the side, but that only rolled her over. Still keeping an eye on his surroundings and especially on the odd bounds of light that jumped this way and that, illuminating everything in the hall with eerie glows, Malfoy bent down by Hermione, checking to see if she was breathing.
"Mudblood?" He tried, voice echoing in his own ears. "HERMIONE!"
She didn't stir.
After a while, he remembered the purple earplugs that didn't allow any sound in. With a furrowing of his brow, he poked at it with his wand, not really knowing what that would accomplish. Surprisingly, it popped. He did this with his own earplugs and then bent down low into Granger's newly exposed ear. "HERMIONE!"
She stirred.
"CAN-YOU-HEAR-ME?"
Her bleeding head flopped to the side.
"WHAT-HAPPENED-TO-THE-GIANT?"
He watched her ruby lips move slightly, listening intently. She murmured something about a funny sounding spell before gasping slightly as if she'd broken a rib.
Uneducated in the 'art of healing,' Malfoy swore and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to bring her to the hospital wing immediately. On the list of instructions, Dumbledore had stated that the Hollow Hilda was willing to act as temporary nurse, so Hermione'd be healed in no time. Hopefully.
With one last look around the corridor, Malfoy conjured up a levitating charm and walked quickly up the flight of steps to the second floor where the hospital wing was located with Hermione bobbing eerily behind him, illuminated by the glum glow of the torch. No one was out of their rooms yet, although Peeves was floating around the ceiling calling out, "Malfoy, Foul Boy, the One and Only Ferret Boy!"
Draco chose to ignore this.
He limped through the doorway of Madame Pomfrey's former office, making sure to not bang up Hermione's head anymore than it already was. Hollow Hilda floated in almost exactly like Hermione was: head lolling from side to side, a vacant expression on her face, and limbs hung dangling from a body that looked as if it were supported by and invisible string. At the sight of Draco and Mudblood, however, she snapped to attention and immediately began fussing over them.
"Look at you two! What happened! No matter, no matter, don't try to explain. You. Blonde. Go lay down on a bed, I'll be with you in a moment to fix your leg. Give this girl to me.. Thank you.. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.she's in pretty bad condition. I'll be able to mend her up in a jiffy, though, don't you worry. Suppose you two got lost and stumbled upon the giant, huh? The House Elves are already searching.. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.." Her voice trailed off as she and Malfoy split directions, Hilda going to lay Hermione down (with the help of Dobby, who Malfoy didn't recognize and therefor didn't waste his time with), and Draco going over to a bed, resting his leg at last.
It hadn't started hurting until he'd gotten up the stair, but when the pain had come, it was apparent he'd twisted it somehow.
"Now, now, young girl, you stay still.. Yes, I know the exams are coming tomorrow.. Sure.beautiful winter day, yeah.." Hilda said absentmindedly, instructing Dobby on which potions to get and what to do with them as Hermione murmured senseless things. The little House Elf was also talking to Hermione, too, but in a much smaller and more worried voice as if he knew her somehow.
Draco sunk into the pillows, the old bed creaking beneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering how the Giant had gotten in and why Voldemort had sent such a reckless thing even though his faithful sernant's son was here. It wasn't as if he expected special courtesies, but it wasn't that hard to send something like a Death Eater through the Barrier, instead, was it? Didn't his father ask for his son's safety? He must've believed Draco could handle it, and he did.
But is that really the case?
Several minutes later he heard Hermione stir, muttering into her pillow things like "Aim for the back," and "The idiot.! I said Shrivelo! Not Shreevlo! Those two spells together are dangerous.!"
Soon, Hollow Hilda bustled into his own little curtained room, followed closely by Dobby. "This will hurt a bit, so try not to scream."
"Wha-? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! IT NEVER HURT LIKE THIS WITH MADAME- HEY! YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!" Malfoy bellowed, sitting upright in the bed, clutching at his ankle. A smug looking Hollow Hilda was floating above him with a scared looking Dobby standing below her, squirting a needle. "DON'T YOU EVER-"
"Oh no! You woke up...Hermyoon.! You bad, bad boy," she said, hearing Hermione's hoarse voice of, "Hello? What is this.?" Without a backward glance she hurriedly floated through the curtains once again over to Hermione's little compartment, leaving Malfoy gawking after her.
"Old Hag," he muttered, carefully getting out of bed. Surprisingly, his ankle had stopped throbbing, and was now reduced to normal size. Still, the point where the needle had entered was severely hurting. For once he missed Madam Pomfrey and her trusty ol' wand.
Draco walked towards the door, trying to slip into his dorms where he could think. Instead, on his way out, two other seventh years, one tall and lanky with jet black hair and a jagged scar on his forehead, the other with scary red hair and a sprinkling of freckles strewn over his face, came hurtling though the door, shoving Malfoy out of the way in their haste to get in.
Harry rushed over to Hollow Hilda, followed quickly by Ron, and asked breathlessly where Hermione was.
"She's.she's over there," Hilda said, pointing to a compartment to their left. She was making a potion of some sort, or rather instructing Dobby in how to make it, and was so involved in their argument ("SHE WON'T LIKE IT!" "SHUT UP, HOUSE ELF, I'M THE NURSE HERE, NOT YOU!") that she didn't even care to tell the boys to be quiet.
"HERMIONE! Are you OK?" This was from Harry, whose small silhouette shown through the curtains as he closed them around the three.
Ron: "We heard from Peeves that he saw you being carried up the stairs by Malfoy!"
Draco muttered under his breath for no particular reason, "Levitated her, not carried," as he seated himself by the door, massaging his stomach where Ron had elbowed him. He could bet his newest addition of the Firebolt that it had not been an accident.
Harry: "Hermione, are you OK? What'd he do? What happened? We got this message suddenly that went through the halls telling us to stay in the dormitories and wait for further instructions, did you send that?"
Ron's silhouette crouched by the head of still figure, saying, "'Mione?"
A weak voice sounded from on the bed. Hermione croaked, "Never.take.Hilda's.medicine." She appeared to be massaging her throat.
Relieved laughs came from Harry and Ron. "Glad to see you're OK. Come up to the dorms when you're ready, K? See ya," Harry called as Hilda came back in with Dobby, who was holding a nasty looking medicine of some sort.
Draco watched as they went back outside, twitching his cloak over his now purple leg. Damn Hilda.
In a few moments, Hermione walked out of the compartment, looking fresh and ready for whatever. Draco and her walked through the door and to their rooms, talking about what had happened.
"The spell that you shouted, Sheelvo, is a powerful charm that turns anything the wand is aimed at into something shriveled and miniature. The spell I told you to do would have, if two people'd done it, turned the Giant into something very, very small. Used on a normal human being, the victim would've become too tiny to be seen by the human eye, or microscopic. So, as you can see, the two spells did just that when they mixed, and so the Giant died, from your spell, as something even smaller than it was from my spell."
"What about the light?"
"Oh. That. Well, this is only a theory, but in order for the Giant to get in, it would've needed some sort of spell to pass the boundaries, right?"
Malfoy nodded, continuing for her, "So it would've had a spell wrapped around itself, which caused that spells, and possibly any other spell, to hit the spell-doers in a rebound as it hit the Giant."
"Exactly. Although it's not spell-doers, it's-"
"Close enough." What really bothered Malfoy now, even more, was that his father would have known Draco would be appointed Head Boy, so he'd be forced to take on the giant with its little force feild. But still, he'd not said anything to Voldemort. Maybe they wanted to get Granger, knowing she'd be a nuisance, but at the expense of Luscious' own son?