- Disclaimer: I have no claims whatsoever on Harry Potter. Or Draco Malfoy. Or Hermione Granger. Etc. Don't sue me.
- A/N: Don't kill me for the angst. I like Harry. Really I do.
- cowzr4ever - I feel as though I should apologize. I'm afraid you took my delayed response to your message as offense. I'm really glad that you told me what you did, however, as I didn't realize exactly the impression that Ch. 8 had given off. I will certainly amend it in this chapter.
Thanks, of course, to my wonderful reviewers… Serpena (glad to have you back), HardyGXtreme (thank you so much, I'm flattered!), angeL_1215 (thanks! Please email me if you are wondering about Harry… I'm not sure if it's the plot itself or something I wrote that doesn't make sense), varda (you're too kind. I hope you like the next chapter), Labyris (LoL. Certainly, there's more.), Blanche Dubois (eep… Sorry… I may post a different scenario I had considered as an outtaken scene.), dracoluva99 (I want you to know how greatly I appreciated your review. I really want to be a writer. Thank you.), yummyjajangmyun (thank you so much! Character development/in character writing is very important to me, and it's nice to get positive feedback on it), FEAngel258 (thanks! I hope you enjoy chapter 9!), and last but not least, Kou Shun'u (thank you so much! I hope I didn't create more questions than I answered lol. And... er… I hope you like this chapter…Please let me know.).
Alright, I may start answering reviews as a review myself. What do you guys think?
Anyway, here's the chapter. Please enjoy.
Much props to my awesome beta Jennifer.
***
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us."
- Nelson Mandela
Harry remembered seeing Sirius. And he remembered Sirius crying. And that made him want to cry, in spite of the fact that he had no idea why he had been crying.
He kept focusing his thoughts, attempting to bring back the memory, but he couldn't. Each time he tried, he just regained the emotions he had experienced. He kept experiencing the sensation of watching his godfather cry. And he couldn't think of anything that he would like to feel less.
He sighed, rolling over to face Ron's bed. He hated to do it… but he had to know.
"Ron?"
His roommate started, completely caught off guard at Harry's call. "Yea?"
Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, out of some reverence for Sirius' secrecy. "What happened with… with Snuffles…?"
There was a long silence from the other bed and Harry wondered wildly if Ron had fallen asleep.
"…You don't remember?"
Harry bit his lip, a little frustrated at this unhelpful response. "Well, obviously not. I'd hardly be asking if I did."
He heard Ron sigh and, a few moments later, he felt the mattress underneath him shift as Ron took a seat on his bed.
"Oh, Harry."
Ron rubbed his face carefully and drew one hand up to run it through his hair. Finally, he continued.
"Harry, you're… ill… Some one has put some sort of curse on you. You can't focus, you can't remember… You have terrible nightmares…You're steadily losing your abilities…And we can't get it to stop."
Harry felt a large knot growing in his chest. At the same time he had the odd sensation that this was a dream itself. He fought this sensation, focusing all his attention on what Ron had just told him. It was clear again. He was in his dorm. Ron was on his bed. This was real. But he had a funny feeling that he wouldn't know this in a few minutes.
"And… and Sirius… is he okay? He was crying, Ron."
Ron looked down at his feet before answering in a very low voice. "He was crying about you, mate."
***
Hermione had been thinking. How could she not, after all of the things Draco had told her the previous night? In any case, she was ready for him when he entered the Charms classroom that night.
"Why isn't there a way to perform controlled wandless magic? It follows that if you have enough power and control, you should be able to simply use your hands, does it not?"
Draco laughed. "At least let me get both feet inside the room, Hermione."
He strolled up to her, pulling her to him easily into a very hungry kiss. When he finally pulled away, somewhat satiated, he smiled. "A 'nice to see you' would do just fine right about now."
She grinned sheepishly. "Nice to see you."
He cleared his throat and took a seat on a desk. "Yes. Yes, controlled wandless magic is possible. But not for every one. For a very select few, actually. It requires a great deal of both power and restraint, each of which is rather talented at overwhelming the other. To find the right balance is extremely difficult." He paused and glanced at her, probably noticing the wheels turning in her head for the first time. "And to experiment with finding the balance is extremely dangerous."
She had the decency to look mildly surprised. "Why? What can happen?"
Draco sighed and pushed himself off of the desk, moving towards her. "I should have never brought this up. But, just as well… Tonight we work on..." he paused, leaning forward until his breath tickled the inside of her ear and allowed his body to press into hers, "…Control," he finished, pulling away abruptly.
She glared at him, angry for producing the reaction he had counted on. But she could hardly help remembering… And her body certainly wouldn't forget, even if she tried to.
"You didn't answer my question."
Draco smiled at her evident irritation. She was so cute when she was angry. He sighed and relented. 'Hell, she knows everything else. She thinks she does, anyway. Not that that's any different.'
"Hermione, think about it. What could possibly go wrong when you are simultaneously summoning a great deal of power, not using your wand, and concentrating all of your focus on this power in an attempt to control it?"
"Erm…"
She felt herself flush. Sure, it sounded like it was an obviously bad idea, but what really was wrong with it? Hermione didn't understand - surely, she'd be able to control it if she focused hard enough. When had she ever not been able to do something if she tried hard enough?
Draco watched her carefully, a dismal expression on his face. He sighed again.
"Don't, Hermione. Certainly not until you have the tile glowing under control."
She smiled, reached in her robes, pulled out her wand and set it on the desk. She then closed her eyes and held out her hands, imagining all of her energy flowing to her fingertips, imagining that same energy flowing to an exact glowing H shape on the floor, and picturing Draco's smiling face, shining with pride. She felt the energy surging through her hands, was overwhelmed by the sudden wave of power, deafened by the immense whooshing it made in her head, and couldn't have opened her eyes at that moment if her life depended on it. She was sure, however, that when she opened her eyes, she would see her H.
If her H was actually several tiles ripped from the floor in an odd zigzag shape, several desks knocked over and a shattered window, then yes, she saw her H. Draco rose shakily from an odd crouching position behind some desks in a far corner. He was angry.
And, for the first time in her recollection, Hermione was afraid of him.
***
Draco had a bad feeling when she set her wand down. When she closed her eyes, he started toward her, stopped himself and was backing up as quickly as his legs would carry him when it seemed that the world had exploded. What he assumed to be a simple lumos spell surged from her fingertips, seeming to snowball into a very destructive bolt of lightning. It ricocheted off of every surface, and Draco had just dived behind a desk in an attempt to avoid becoming one of those surfaces, when the desk he had hidden behind was hit and he was thrown even farther out of the way, the desk shoving him harshly into the wall.
Things finally stopped exploding and he heard her gasp. He looked up to find a very surprised Hermione. 'No way. You're surprised? You didn't mean to destroy everything in your path?'
The bitter sarcasm in his thoughts transferred easily to his face, as he gritted his teeth and pulled his aching body from his hiding place, hastily brushing debris from his robes and approached her. This was it. She hadn't taken him seriously, and she had just risked both of their lives in proving it to him.
He opened his mouth as he reached her, but stopped the angry words from tumbling out when he met her eyes. She flinched as though she was expecting him to hit her and every letter of her body language spelled fear.
It took every ounce of his restraint not to scream bloody murder at her, but he managed, somehow, to hold himself back. A little voice in the back of his head told him that it would be even sweeter if he managed to control himself when she obviously possessed no semblance of restraint.
He took several deep breaths before he broke out with a rather severe whisper.
"Do you realize how… how idiotic that was? How dangerous? You could have gotten us both killed! Not to mention expelled, if any professors happened to hear your little outburst."
Hermione's mouth made a small o. Apparently, the fact that they were in a classroom hadn't occurred to her. Draco sighed and stepped away from her, waving his wand and muttering a few well-placed Reparos. When the classroom at last looked as it had when they had first arrived, with the exception of a few moved desks, he returned to the gaping Gryffindor.
He had to get a little closer to realize that she was crying.
"Oh, Hermione. Come here." Without waiting for her response, he pulled her into a tight embrace, and, unlike the last time he had found himself comforting her, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
***
Ron had begged Dumbledore to change his mind. After sitting in the Headmaster's office, watching Harry and Sirius… Watching Sirius cry and Harry not notice… The worst had been looking at Dumbledore and seeing that the headmaster felt completely useless… The man most students put on par with God had no idea how to amend the situation. It made Ron crazy. He had to do something. He didn't want to wait a year.
Dumbledore had, finally, somewhat agreed after several hours of Ron's pleas. He had agreed tentatively, hinging it on whether or not Ron had mastered the art of controlling his thoughts and on how much the public perceived Ron as siding with Voldemort by the initiation date.
Ron had started straightaway, by publicly muttering unkind things about Harry and Dumbledore. He was still struggling with the issue of Purebloods/Muggleborns. He wasn't sure how drastically he could turn against everything he had ever stood for.
He would be starting mind control lessons with Avery and Snape tomorrow. He had wondered, very bitterly, when Dumbledore had informed him of the lessons, how two spies who had been discovered would be any use in training him at all. He had thought it best not to vocalize this question, however, and as a result he would be locked in a dungeon classroom with the surly pair tomorrow evening.
***
Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes, furiously attempting to keep them open. It was well past curfew, well past any meeting time with Draco… But she wasn't ready for sleep yet. She was furious with herself for not succeeding in her attempt at wandless magic. She refused to sleep until she did succeed, but the chances of her control improving decreased with every not-so-waking moment.
She had parted ways with Draco at the Charms' classroom, headed to Gryffindor Tower and doubled back, locking herself in the classroom once again. Several locking and silencing spells later, she began her practice.
The room continually burst into shambles. She wondered how many times one could Reparo something before it stopped being fixable.
She bit her lip. With human beings… with love… there were only a set number…
She shook her head. Leave it to her to turn such a simple thought into one reflecting on life and the human condition at some god-forsaken early morning hour. Once again, she held out her hands, closed her eyes, concentrated her energy and mumbled "lumos". Once again she opened them, expecting to see complete devastation of the room.
She was pleasantly surprised to find that her fingers were lightly glowing. It certainly wasn't enough to read by, but they were definitely glowing. She felt the pride, exhaustion and happiness spread through her aching body, and before she realized what she had done, the tiles below her exploded into several hundred pieces. She ducked, throwing her hands up to block her face from the flying shrapnel and shrieked.
When the floor was peaceful rubble again, she rubbed her face, exasperated. So, apparently she couldn't allow herself to lose control of her emotions at all when performing wandless magic.
She would have to train herself to be cold.
***
Ron gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from lashing out at the greasy-haired bastard.
They had been practicing for two hours now. These had been the longest, most irritating two hours of Ron's life. It had started with Avery and Snape switching off, each interrogating Ron with a series of rapid-fire questions, testing his endurance and his ability to lie.
Both had failed within the first fifteen minutes. They had since been discussing his strategy.
And now Ron sat in the uncomfortable, straight-backed chair Snape had so generously leant him, sweating bullets and fighting against the extreme headache that had been threatening to appear for the last hour.
"Weasley, we are going to do this again. We are going to do this until you can last longer than half an hour, until you can lie while believing it's the truth… until you can look me in the eye and convince me that you've switched to the Dark Side and you will promptly be having us all killed."
Ron took a deep breath and focused on Snape again. Avery was watching, an amused look on his face. It made Ron want to hit him as violently as possible. Snape began the questions again.
"Where do your loyalties lie?"
"The Dark Lord."
"When did you begin siding with the Dark Lord?"
"I'm a Pureblood who's proud of his bloodline-"
"I asked when, not why."
"Ever since I realized how pathetic both Dumbledore and Potter are."
"I'll ask you again. I don't like asking questions more than once. But I will ask you one last time. When did your loyalties switch to Lord Voldemort?"
"Last year."
"Well, you've done an excellent job of hiding it, haven't you?"
"I thought, sir, that it would be most prudent to continue to act as though my loyalties lay elsewhere, until I could contact you. I thought, perhaps, that by allowing my reputation to remain, I would be able to assist you more by having the confidence of those you fight against."
"Oh my, Mr. Weasley… Are you suggesting that you would spy for me?"
Ron swallowed. "If you should so desire, my Lord."
Snape grinned, evidently relishing playing the role of the Dark Lord. Ron felt his headache win the fight.
"And why, Mr. Weasley, should I trust that you are not spying on me, if you would so readily spy on the people who have supported you and trusted you your entire life?"
Ron swallowed, feeling his ears burning with embarrassment as he tried to think of an appropriate answer. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he answered.
"None would be so stupid, my Lord."
Snape grimaced and angrily shoved back the chair he had been sitting on. "Great, Weasley, except that you'd have been dead as soon as you paused. Not to mention the manner in which you were obviously searching for a good answer. If, Weasley, you had been telling the truth, you would not have had to search for a good answer. Voldemort is not stupid. Never underestimate his intelligence. The day you do will be your last."
Ron nodded his head, shooting his glance to the floor. He didn't think this session had lasted longer than five minutes.
***
Hermione quite expected Double Potions to be dreadful the following morning. She hadn't slept. By the time she'd returned to the common room, the sun was well on its way into the sky. But she had performed a select few spells without a wand, despite her extreme fatigue.
Surely, if she could manage spells in the midst of exhaustion, it would be easy when wide awake. Obviously, she wouldn't be able to test this theory today. She yawned.
She was walking to the dungeons alone this morning. Not feeling exactly hungry, she had begged off of breakfast and Ron and Harry had left her for the Great Hall. She hadn't objected a great deal. She needed the time to absorb everything that had happened in the past few days.
"Aw, look, Scarhead and the Weasel. Where's the terrible bucktoothed tiger? Awfully vulnerable without her, aren't you?"
Hermione grimaced, pausing before she rounded the corner. She knew what scene would meet her eyes. Apparently, Pansy was still on level with third years, intellectually. With a heavy sigh, she began to move around the wall, pausing only when Draco's voice reached her.
"Parkinson, grow up."
She froze in shock. Her curiosity soon overtook her surprise, however, and her feet propelled her around the corner. She wasn't the only one Draco had surprised.
Ron and Pansy were both staring at him, unabashedly, with their mouths agape. Apparently, Harry hadn't noticed the entire interaction, as he was busy studying his feet. Hermione cleared her throat, but her opportunity at speech was stolen by the silky voice behind her.
"If you're quite done, Weasley, with causing a scene, I would like to begin my class."
Hermione took a deep breath and moved out of Snape's way. He swished past her, without so much as a word. Apparently today would be no different. He had been pretty much ignoring her since about fourth year, with the notable exception of reprimands. She had decided that it was due to his refusal to believe that a Gryffindor would possess any semblance of intelligence, and would just as soon pretend that she didn't exist. She didn't mind as much as she used to. At this point, as long as he continued handing her back flawless scrolls and exams, she didn't really give a damn if they never sat down for tea.
It was with this slightly defiant attitude that Hermione entered Professor Snape's classroom that morning.
***
Ron, still a little shocked over Draco's response to Pansy's taunting, didn't even think to be upset about Snape's obvious favoritism. Nudging Harry, he stumbled into the classroom, following the Slytherins. He hadn't noticed Hermione's arrival, and was surprised when he found himself seated next to her.
"Hullo."
She nodded her greeting, smiling slightly, and turned her attention back to the front of the classroom.
Ron sighed. He had to reach her. It was desperate now. At the same time, it was very complex. He was supposed to be siding with Voldemort now. By all rights, he shouldn't even be talking to her. On the other hand, if she was the key to helping Harry, he needed her desperately. He sighed.
Before he could give the matter another thought, Snape's voice resounded across the classroom.
"Today you will all be working with a very complex, very dangerous potion. Please at least make some attempt to not screw it up too terribly. " Snape glared at Ron. "The potion, as you can see if you are literate, is the obscurely known Aberro Potion. Can anyone tell me what it does?"
Ron squinted at the blackboard, where the details of the potion were written out, but couldn't make out what it did. Hermione had of course raised her hand. Snape was of course ignoring her.
Draco Malfoy raised his hand.
"Yes, Draco?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her arm down as Draco began to speak, but Ron didn't miss the smile she'd tried to hide.
"The Aberro potion allows the drinker to… er… forget something for a short while. It is very handy for those undergoing interrogations, and as a tool in mind control, as the thoughts of the drinker are automatically diverted from whatever he wishes to keep hidden. Veritaserum can, in theory, eventually force the subject to remember what he took Aberro for, but in mixing the two potions, permanent memory loss and sometimes even death occur. The exact neutralizing combination has yet to be discovered."
Snape nodded, very pleased. "I am glad to know that one student in this classroom bothers to look over the material before class. Yes, you will all be working on Aberro today. Very carefully. I rarely allow sixth years this privilege. It will take a full two class periods to complete, and you will be working in pairs. At the end, we will be testing them. I advise you to use it against your most embarrassing secrets. Otherwise you may find yourself revealing all." Snape smiled, gave Ron an especially severe look, and took a seat behind his desk.
He groaned. How on earth would he be able to block all of his embarrassing moments?
***
Hermione gnawed on her lip in another futile attempt to concentrate on the potion and distract herself from Draco. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction. And she certainly didn't want to give Snape the satisfaction of an excuse to deduct more points from Gryffindor. Harry's incompetence today had already lost them enough.
"Potter!"
She sighed, wondering how on earth he could mess up the stirring required of this potion. She thought that surely, Ron would have taken over that part.
"Speak to me after class."
Surprised, she glanced up at her Potions Master. She noticed an emotion most incongruent with his person. He looked deeply concerned.
Maybe Snape had a heart after all. She supposed that many people weren't what they seemed. Unconsciously, she glanced at Draco. He was watching her as well. When their eyes met, he smiled, winked, and returned to his potion.
With a deep blush, Hermione turned back to her potion and barely prevented Neville from adding the Lacewings too soon.
Now more resolute than ever, Hermione focused all of her attention on the potion, forcefully steering her thoughts away from Draco. She had a feeling this would be good practice for when she actually took the potion. He would certainly be one secret she'd want to keep.
***
Draco rubbed his eyes wearily as he entered the Great Hall for lunch that day. It was the first time he'd made it to lunch in quite sometime. He was almost relieved that Hermione had opted to call off today's study session. She seemed tired. Merlin knows he had exhausted himself in trying to keep his thoughts off of her in Potions. He assumed she was suffering the same version of exhaustion.
Draco sighed and fell very ungracefully into a seat at the Slytherin table. He had hardly had time to decide what he wanted to eat, however, when he noticed a familiar hawk heading his way. He swallowed. Somehow the very image of that hawk instilled a sense of foreboding in him.
When he untied the parchment from his leg, he knew he had good reason.
Draco -
As you have mentioned it repeatedly since your first year, I am confident in your hatred for this girl, so I feel very little apprehension in informing you of the actions we must take. My Lord, nay, our Lord, has assigned me a task that I will require your assistance on. We may not be able to cleanse all of Hogwarts, but the particular Mudblood in question has stepped far out of bounds. I believe you are familiar with Hermione Granger? I trust that I can depend on you, my son and only heir, to assist me in the task at hand. I will contact you with more information in a more discreet manner.
Faithfully yours,
Lucius Malfoy
Draco was at first simply astounded at his father's audacity. To send a letter so obviously tying him to not only the Dark Lord, but to the planning of a murder…
Draco shivered and glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was currently resting her head on folded arms. Gods, he loved her. And she had no idea what threat lay before her. He had to protect her from this. He had to save her. He could think of only one way.
Love amounted to nothing in his father's game. Hatred, however, was both a powerful weapon and ally. Love, when dealing with his father, was a weakness and an enemy. He would have to cleanse himself of love. He would begin tonight. He had tried, the night before, to distance the two of them. He knew then that they had gotten too close. He knew then that he loved her too much. So he had pushed her away and she'd pulled him right back insistently, demandingly. Now a certain degree of urgency had been added to the task at hand. Now it wasn't only some distant future threat to her life that he worried about but a very imminent, very real threat.
He sighed and glanced at the Gryffindor table again. As if she could feel his eyes on her, Hermione slowly lifted her head, turning her gaze to him. When their eyes met, she smiled. After a moment, she bit her lip. He could see that she was considering something. He was almost afraid to find out what. He watched as she sat up straight, smoothing out her robes and hair and rubbing her eyes. She took a deep breath and subtly moved her right hand towards him, muttering something.
From the not so familiar sudden rush of warmth and comfort, combined with his sudden urge to laugh, Draco knew almost instantly that he was now under the influence of a cheering charm. He smiled at Hermione, who was gleefully moving her hands once again and muttering. He felt the artificial happiness leave him, but it was not the same downer sensation he had experienced when he learned the charm in third year.
He supposed that he had seemed rather down after reading his father's owl. It was really rather sweet of her to take initiative like that and attempt to cheer him up. He was still smiling, in fact, when he realized that there had been no wand in Hermione's hand.
