Chapter Thirty-Six:

(A/N. Hey remember the old I shall not lose someone I care about again. Well here's the chapter. Hey umm I want to say I'm starting a new fic but what characters do you want to see together? I have a Ginny/Draco idea. Sound good? Okay read on.)

Draco walked back to his bedroom and sat down on the bed. He stared at the wall and wondered what was happening back in the infirmary. He sighed and flopped back on the bed. He drummed his fingers against the headboard as his mind wandered. He sat up suddenly and took the leather book in his hands. He stared at the cover for a minute before he opened it.

For thousands of years it has existed. An intelligent, weapon of incredible power. The Veraciel. Only Wizards and Witches of unmatched strength of mind, body and will have ever successfully wielded it. Any who has tried to wield it without it's concession has been burnt from the inside out. It gives its concession to the mightiest fighters by producing a blinding flash and humming its welcome. Some have managed to brandish Veraciel without these events occurring. This comes during Veraciel's dormant stage. It will allow the person to hold it but it will not endow open the user any of its fabled powers. These include invisibility, super strength, heightened reflexes and other abilities. But to wear the Veraciel is to be both its master and its servant, as this mysterious weapon draws to it what it needs and casts aside what it does not. Stirring to life at times of crisis -- during wars, famines, pestilence -- the Veraciel has been used to cut a swath of blood and viscera through the ranks of previously insurmountable evil. The origins of the Veraciel are shrouded in myth and speculation, obscured further by the veil of prehistory. The blade was supposedly made by elves as it's inscription reads, 'The elves made me, the darkness fears me, Veraciel is my name.' The blade was made by blending iron's edge with the sun of gold. Fired-white hot and then chilled in wine-dark blood. Thus was born the thirsty Blade, never dulled.

Draco read. He sighed and closed the book. He didn't know how he could ever hope to control something so powerful. He felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he wasn't sure he could handle it. Suddenly the door to his bedroom slid open and Draco sat up, startled. He stared around wildly as the door slid shut. Suddenly Hermione appeared in front of him. He smiled at her in the semi-darkness.

"I knew you'd guess that password and the Invisibility cloak. Very nice touch." He smirked. Suddenly Hermione sniffled loudly and Draco's face filled with concern as he realized she was crying. He rushed over to her. "Hermione? What happened? Are you alright?" He whispered. She shook her head and Draco pulled her into his arms and led her to the bed. She sobbed loudly and he rocked her against him and whispered soothing sounds into her ears. Finally she lay back against him and he realized she had cried all her tears.

"Tell me a happy story." Hermione said. Draco smiled into her hair and ran hand up and down her soft arms.

"A happy story?" Draco said skeptically. Hermione smiled tiredly and nodded slowly, sniffling slightly.

"Yeah."

"Um…okay. Well…Okay, I got it. When I was a little boy, my mother used to take me out to the park. There I met Mandy. She was my first friend. My mother encouraged our friendship even if Mandy was a muggle." Draco said softly. Hermione sniffed and frowned up at him.

"But I thought you had never known a muggle." She said. He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead.

"I lied. So anyway Amanda and I, we got along great. She loved to play and I always had wonderful ideas. I used to show her magic. Small magic, you know. Lighting candles, sparkling lights. That sort of thing. Once we even took a ride on my broom. She was the best thing that ever happened to me as a child…" Draco trailed off and he noticed Hermione had fallen asleep. He smiled and tucked her into his bed. He stood up and looked down at her and felt a pang in his heart. Amanda