Chapter 8- Gemstone Gray
*Describe in two feet the effects of the Broken Heart Solution on any person already in love.*
Hermione checked over her essay one more time before nodding with satisfaction and tucking it away. She pulled another book closer and began to flip through the pages.
It was Saturday. The next day was Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, and Katie Bell had the entire team down at the Quidditch pitch for the entire day. Almost the entire remainder of the school- from the third years on- were in Hogsmeade. The village was not as appealing to her without Harry and Ron there, and she found the resulting quiet to be perfect homework conditions.
A bit later on, Hermione was strolling the hallways for lack of anything better to do. Under one of the rather randomly placed trees in the large field near the lake sat a lone, blond-haired figure. Slightly puzzled, Hermione made her way out of the castle.
"Hi," she said, stopping a little away from him. "What are you doing here?"
Draco looked up at her before repositioning his head to stare into nothing. "Sitting."
"I can see that." She moved closer and sat beside him. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"
"Why aren't you?"
"Well, I didn't have anyone to go with, and I thought I should get started on my homework. Now you."
"I didn't want to." He saw her expectant look and sighed. "I've seen everything there is to see in Hogsmeade. There isn't any reason to go anymore, unless I had something to shop for, which I don't."
"Good reason." He looked sharply at her, but his face softened into a smile. She loved his smile. "Why can't you smile more often?"
"I can when I'm around you," he replied. He picked at the grass next to him, tearing up the blades with vigor. "I don't know. Why should I start now?"
"Why shouldn't you?"
"We're not doing this now."
"Not doing what, exactly?"
"This. This is not talking. This is repeating what the other just said, pretending not to argue. I'm not doing it."
Hermione looked carefully at him. "All right. What do you want to talk about?"
Draco was silent for some time. At last he picked a paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "My mother wrote to me again this morning. The usual 'oh, my darling Draco, I miss you so much. I wish you were here. Life at the Manor is so dull without you' and all that bloody stuff."
"Don't swear," Hermione said absently as she scanned the letter.
"Then she mentioned something, a surprise my father has for me. That's the part I'm worried about. She doesn't know what it is, and I'm afraid to guess. Knowing him it will probably be something like 'Guess what, son? I'm only going to cane you once this summer.' But mother either chooses to ignore it, or is not as smart as I would like to think." He smirked. "I've got some surprises for him, too."
Hermione stared at him. "Cane you once? Are you saying he- he *beats* you?"
"Hermione, don't. It's not a big deal."
"Yes, it is! He can't get away with this! It's child abuse!"
"Hermione, don't! I don't want anyone to know."
"But *I* know."
"I trust you. But you're the only one. Please, just don't tell."
"I don't feel right, knowing this and doing nothing about it."
"It's all right, Hermione. I can handle it. Anyway, this is the last summer I'm going back there, so it won't be so bad. I'll probably just denounce him sometime in July."
"Well, what about- money, and things like that?"
"I have my own account. My mother opened it for me. I've been putting money in it without them knowing since I was thirteen. I'll have enough to live on until I can get a job."
"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry."
Neither of them said anything for what seemed the longest time.
"Listen, Hermione, I've been thinking. It's probably not a good idea for anyone to know…about our…friendship. Too many problems will come up. At least, not yet."
Hermione nodded sadly. "I agree with you. I was trying to think of a way to bring it up."
They smiled at each other again. Perhaps she just noticed it more because she never saw him smile otherwise, but it seemed to her that she smiled more with Draco than with Harry and Ron.
"Too bad this has to be so hard," Hermione said. "You really are a great friend." It was the simple and honest truth. For the past few weeks, he had been.
After another moment of silence, they got to talking about trivial things, like they did sometimes. They ended up laughing about a very unexplainable incident in Defense class. Somehow, Neville had ended up spinning all around the room. When he stopped, his head was upside down with a comical grin plastered on. As sickening as Hermione had found it then, it now seemed to be hilarious.
It was getting close to the time when students would be returning from Hogsmeade. Hermione stood, brushing herself off. "I should go."
"Wait." Draco rose quickly beside her, not bothering to brush off the dirt. He caught her arm above the elbow as she was taking a step. She turned and gazed up at him. In that moment, she froze. "You won't tell?"
At first she barely heard his question. She was too busy looking into his eyes. They held pain, hope, fear, and something else that she could not quite place. They were the most extraordinary eyes she had ever seen. They were gray, as she had always known, but the many different shades of gray made them appear multifaceted, and they shone with an inner light she had never seen before. If a gemstone ever happened to be gray, it would look exactly like Draco's eyes.
"Hermione? You won't tell?" His grip had tightened. She winced slightly.
"Let me go, Draco." They stood, staring at each other for an agonizingly long three seconds, and he loosened his grip on her arm.
"I'm sorry," he said, turning away.
"No," and this time she caught *his* arm. "Don't worry about it." His smile suffused his eyes with warmth. "No, I won't tell anyone."
He regarded her for a moment before nodding. He sat back under the tree, crunching dry leaves in his fist, as she went back up to the castle.
"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called as she entered the common room. "Where've you been?"
She shrugged. "I was doing homework, and then I went for a walk." It was the truth, if stretched.
"You went for a walk for three hours?" Ginny commented, pointing to the clock.
Hermione's eyes flickered to the time for a split second. "Yes, I did." She joined them on the floor. "So what's happening?"
"Chess tournament," Ron said, nodding to Harry and Seamus, who were both intensely studying the chessboard as their pieces called out hints. "We're trying to determine who's the Gryffindor champion. Care to join?"
"No, thanks, I'll watch." She and Ginny exchanged looks. Ginny broke into a fit of giggles, interrupting Harry and Seamus's concentration. They nodded to each other, then both lunged at Ginny. Harry held her arms while Seamus tickled her mercilessly. She gasped at them to stop. They did for a minute to let her catch her breath. Then the tickling started anew.
Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She gave him warning look. He took a few menacing steps forward. "Ron, don't!" He grinned wickedly. He was standing over her, and she had just prepared to whip out her wand when he turned to pounce on Ginny. She shrieked louder as two more hands joined in the tickling.
Hermione was very ticklish herself, and sometimes she even found it fun to be tickled, but she was most definitely not in the mood. Still, she felt a bit envious at Ginny's ability to be the center of attention at all times. That is, since last year, when she had started talking around Harry.
"I'm going to go upstairs, guys," she said, not expecting them to hear. "Good night."
"Hey, wait! Why don't you stay down here and join the fun? You don't have to do homework *now*, do you?" Ron pleaded. He made a sad puppy face at her. Laughing, she made as if to continue up the stairs.
In another moment, she turned and ran toward them, jumping on top of Ron. They grappled for longer than she expected to hold out. Finally, Ron pinned her hands above her head, straddling her stomach. She laughed. Now she understood why Ginny liked wrestling with Seamus. It was simple, really.
It was *fun*.
************************************************************************
There was nothing else for Draco to do. He headed up to the owlery and wrote a response to his mother.
*Everything's fine here. Tell father, I don't care what the surprise is, I don't want it. He can throw it in a river for all I care.*
Calling Rasputin down, he tied the note to his leg. "Bring this right to mum, okay, Ras? If she's not there, don't let my father take it."
Rasputin hooted in response and soared out the window. Pulling his cloak a little closer against the chill wind, he leaned against the sill, watching his beautiful eagle owl disappear in flight. His father had named him, but his grandfather had picked him out. The only thing his father's father ever did for him. Then he had died.
Everything was dying. It was the end of November. The trees appeared to miss their leaves terribly, looking naked and exposed without them. The lake looked darker than it did during the summer, when the squid's tentacles could be seen searching the lake at almost all times. The Forbidden Forest looked, well, forbidden. It always did, but it was always worse in the winter.
Draco hated to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid of the Forest. It wasn't because of all the rumors and the beasts. That was only part of it. That didn't really matter to him. He had the most horrible experience in a forest at the age of three. Ever since he had hated them. He found himself slipping into the memory. Desperately trying to pull out of it, he braced himself against the window as he was sucked in.
^*^ Why was he in the forest? He couldn't remember going in. He was all alone, without his mother or his father, and he did not know where his cloak was. Tears stung at his young eyes, but "Malfoys don't cry" so he blinked them away. He began to wander through the forest, trying to find his way back home.
It grew colder suddenly, and he soon realized why. He had stepped into a clearing. The trees were no longer blocking the harsh November wind. It seemed darker here than among the trees, for some reason. His eyes did not take in the scene until he was standing in the middle of the clearing. By then it was too late to turn back.
Dark-robed, masked figures stood in a circle around him. They faced straight ahead, completely still, as though waiting for something. A man robed the same way stepped forward. "I did not expect you, Draco. You have walked in on something you should not have seen."
"Father? Where are we? Who are they?"
"You are not to know these things. At least, not yet. But you must learn a lesson. You must learn not to stumble upon things that are not your business."
Being only three years old at the time, Draco had no idea what his father was talking about. It was not until he saw his father aiming his wand that he thought something was wrong.
"Crucio!"
At once a sledgehammer of pain hit him, wracking his small body. He cried out and bit his lip so hard he drew blood. At first he could hear the protests of the other occupants of the clearing. He was just a child, he did not know what he was doing. But after a while his own screams drowned out any other sound. Utter agony gripped him, and he curled into a ball on the ground.
His muscles relaxed slightly when the curse was dropped. He felt weak. He had never imagined such pain could exist, but apparently… "Next time you see something you should not, you will feel the curse at its full force. Am I clear?"
Draco could not speak. He lay prone on the ground, unable to move to help himself, or for any other reason. His father took his face roughly with one hand and forced him to look into his eyes. His father's blue eyes, he could see through the mask, were cold and unloving. "I said, am I clear?"
Fearing for his life, Draco managed a weak, "Yes."
The figures dispersed, many muttering to themselves or each other about the shocking use of the curse. Draco felt some of his strength returning, and stood shakily. He looked around slowly. The clearing was empty except for his father. "Come along, Draco."
For a moment, the three year old did nothing. He stared at his father. When Lucius Malfoy took a step forward, Draco's fear kicked in. His father was blasted off his feet, backward across the clearing. Taking this opportunity, Draco took off into the woods, his fear lending him the strength to run.
He did not know how long he ran before his foot caught on a tree root. He fell to the ground, just barely catching himself. He lay there for quite a while, sobbing and shaking, until two of the family house elves came to retrieve him.
After this incident, he left the room whenever his father drew his wand, until the age of six. He could not stay in the same room as Lucius for months. His mother kept asking what was wrong, but he could only shake his head and stare into the floor. He never went into any forest again, if he could avoid it. ^*^
Later he learned that the people in the clearing were most of the Death Eaters who had not been caught. They were deciding what to do about Voldemort's sudden defeat. He also discovered that very few of them approved of what his father did to him that night.
His cheeks felt strange. His eyes stung. Reaching up, he felt the wetness glistening there. Cursing, he wiped all trace of tears from his face. He turned to go just as Harry Potter entered. *Just my luck,* Draco thought wryly.
"Out of my way, Potter," he snarled. He hastened out before Potter had the chance to respond. He might like Hermione, but he could never, ever be friends with Harry Potter.
End Chapter 8
Wow, guys. The reviews come fast for this story. I get more reviews per chapter for this story than any other. And I love you guys. I'm so glad you like this story. Really.
I'm in a fix. Or whatever you want to call it. I need some help. I cannot remember whether Hermione's wand was described in the books, and if so which book, etc. I'm not going to go looking through them all, I want the description for chapter 11. If anyone happens to know, could you please mention it in your review? Thanks!!
Please Review. I'll be forever grateful. Forever. And ever. And ever… wow that's a long time.
*Describe in two feet the effects of the Broken Heart Solution on any person already in love.*
Hermione checked over her essay one more time before nodding with satisfaction and tucking it away. She pulled another book closer and began to flip through the pages.
It was Saturday. The next day was Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, and Katie Bell had the entire team down at the Quidditch pitch for the entire day. Almost the entire remainder of the school- from the third years on- were in Hogsmeade. The village was not as appealing to her without Harry and Ron there, and she found the resulting quiet to be perfect homework conditions.
A bit later on, Hermione was strolling the hallways for lack of anything better to do. Under one of the rather randomly placed trees in the large field near the lake sat a lone, blond-haired figure. Slightly puzzled, Hermione made her way out of the castle.
"Hi," she said, stopping a little away from him. "What are you doing here?"
Draco looked up at her before repositioning his head to stare into nothing. "Sitting."
"I can see that." She moved closer and sat beside him. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"
"Why aren't you?"
"Well, I didn't have anyone to go with, and I thought I should get started on my homework. Now you."
"I didn't want to." He saw her expectant look and sighed. "I've seen everything there is to see in Hogsmeade. There isn't any reason to go anymore, unless I had something to shop for, which I don't."
"Good reason." He looked sharply at her, but his face softened into a smile. She loved his smile. "Why can't you smile more often?"
"I can when I'm around you," he replied. He picked at the grass next to him, tearing up the blades with vigor. "I don't know. Why should I start now?"
"Why shouldn't you?"
"We're not doing this now."
"Not doing what, exactly?"
"This. This is not talking. This is repeating what the other just said, pretending not to argue. I'm not doing it."
Hermione looked carefully at him. "All right. What do you want to talk about?"
Draco was silent for some time. At last he picked a paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "My mother wrote to me again this morning. The usual 'oh, my darling Draco, I miss you so much. I wish you were here. Life at the Manor is so dull without you' and all that bloody stuff."
"Don't swear," Hermione said absently as she scanned the letter.
"Then she mentioned something, a surprise my father has for me. That's the part I'm worried about. She doesn't know what it is, and I'm afraid to guess. Knowing him it will probably be something like 'Guess what, son? I'm only going to cane you once this summer.' But mother either chooses to ignore it, or is not as smart as I would like to think." He smirked. "I've got some surprises for him, too."
Hermione stared at him. "Cane you once? Are you saying he- he *beats* you?"
"Hermione, don't. It's not a big deal."
"Yes, it is! He can't get away with this! It's child abuse!"
"Hermione, don't! I don't want anyone to know."
"But *I* know."
"I trust you. But you're the only one. Please, just don't tell."
"I don't feel right, knowing this and doing nothing about it."
"It's all right, Hermione. I can handle it. Anyway, this is the last summer I'm going back there, so it won't be so bad. I'll probably just denounce him sometime in July."
"Well, what about- money, and things like that?"
"I have my own account. My mother opened it for me. I've been putting money in it without them knowing since I was thirteen. I'll have enough to live on until I can get a job."
"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry."
Neither of them said anything for what seemed the longest time.
"Listen, Hermione, I've been thinking. It's probably not a good idea for anyone to know…about our…friendship. Too many problems will come up. At least, not yet."
Hermione nodded sadly. "I agree with you. I was trying to think of a way to bring it up."
They smiled at each other again. Perhaps she just noticed it more because she never saw him smile otherwise, but it seemed to her that she smiled more with Draco than with Harry and Ron.
"Too bad this has to be so hard," Hermione said. "You really are a great friend." It was the simple and honest truth. For the past few weeks, he had been.
After another moment of silence, they got to talking about trivial things, like they did sometimes. They ended up laughing about a very unexplainable incident in Defense class. Somehow, Neville had ended up spinning all around the room. When he stopped, his head was upside down with a comical grin plastered on. As sickening as Hermione had found it then, it now seemed to be hilarious.
It was getting close to the time when students would be returning from Hogsmeade. Hermione stood, brushing herself off. "I should go."
"Wait." Draco rose quickly beside her, not bothering to brush off the dirt. He caught her arm above the elbow as she was taking a step. She turned and gazed up at him. In that moment, she froze. "You won't tell?"
At first she barely heard his question. She was too busy looking into his eyes. They held pain, hope, fear, and something else that she could not quite place. They were the most extraordinary eyes she had ever seen. They were gray, as she had always known, but the many different shades of gray made them appear multifaceted, and they shone with an inner light she had never seen before. If a gemstone ever happened to be gray, it would look exactly like Draco's eyes.
"Hermione? You won't tell?" His grip had tightened. She winced slightly.
"Let me go, Draco." They stood, staring at each other for an agonizingly long three seconds, and he loosened his grip on her arm.
"I'm sorry," he said, turning away.
"No," and this time she caught *his* arm. "Don't worry about it." His smile suffused his eyes with warmth. "No, I won't tell anyone."
He regarded her for a moment before nodding. He sat back under the tree, crunching dry leaves in his fist, as she went back up to the castle.
"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called as she entered the common room. "Where've you been?"
She shrugged. "I was doing homework, and then I went for a walk." It was the truth, if stretched.
"You went for a walk for three hours?" Ginny commented, pointing to the clock.
Hermione's eyes flickered to the time for a split second. "Yes, I did." She joined them on the floor. "So what's happening?"
"Chess tournament," Ron said, nodding to Harry and Seamus, who were both intensely studying the chessboard as their pieces called out hints. "We're trying to determine who's the Gryffindor champion. Care to join?"
"No, thanks, I'll watch." She and Ginny exchanged looks. Ginny broke into a fit of giggles, interrupting Harry and Seamus's concentration. They nodded to each other, then both lunged at Ginny. Harry held her arms while Seamus tickled her mercilessly. She gasped at them to stop. They did for a minute to let her catch her breath. Then the tickling started anew.
Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She gave him warning look. He took a few menacing steps forward. "Ron, don't!" He grinned wickedly. He was standing over her, and she had just prepared to whip out her wand when he turned to pounce on Ginny. She shrieked louder as two more hands joined in the tickling.
Hermione was very ticklish herself, and sometimes she even found it fun to be tickled, but she was most definitely not in the mood. Still, she felt a bit envious at Ginny's ability to be the center of attention at all times. That is, since last year, when she had started talking around Harry.
"I'm going to go upstairs, guys," she said, not expecting them to hear. "Good night."
"Hey, wait! Why don't you stay down here and join the fun? You don't have to do homework *now*, do you?" Ron pleaded. He made a sad puppy face at her. Laughing, she made as if to continue up the stairs.
In another moment, she turned and ran toward them, jumping on top of Ron. They grappled for longer than she expected to hold out. Finally, Ron pinned her hands above her head, straddling her stomach. She laughed. Now she understood why Ginny liked wrestling with Seamus. It was simple, really.
It was *fun*.
************************************************************************
There was nothing else for Draco to do. He headed up to the owlery and wrote a response to his mother.
*Everything's fine here. Tell father, I don't care what the surprise is, I don't want it. He can throw it in a river for all I care.*
Calling Rasputin down, he tied the note to his leg. "Bring this right to mum, okay, Ras? If she's not there, don't let my father take it."
Rasputin hooted in response and soared out the window. Pulling his cloak a little closer against the chill wind, he leaned against the sill, watching his beautiful eagle owl disappear in flight. His father had named him, but his grandfather had picked him out. The only thing his father's father ever did for him. Then he had died.
Everything was dying. It was the end of November. The trees appeared to miss their leaves terribly, looking naked and exposed without them. The lake looked darker than it did during the summer, when the squid's tentacles could be seen searching the lake at almost all times. The Forbidden Forest looked, well, forbidden. It always did, but it was always worse in the winter.
Draco hated to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid of the Forest. It wasn't because of all the rumors and the beasts. That was only part of it. That didn't really matter to him. He had the most horrible experience in a forest at the age of three. Ever since he had hated them. He found himself slipping into the memory. Desperately trying to pull out of it, he braced himself against the window as he was sucked in.
^*^ Why was he in the forest? He couldn't remember going in. He was all alone, without his mother or his father, and he did not know where his cloak was. Tears stung at his young eyes, but "Malfoys don't cry" so he blinked them away. He began to wander through the forest, trying to find his way back home.
It grew colder suddenly, and he soon realized why. He had stepped into a clearing. The trees were no longer blocking the harsh November wind. It seemed darker here than among the trees, for some reason. His eyes did not take in the scene until he was standing in the middle of the clearing. By then it was too late to turn back.
Dark-robed, masked figures stood in a circle around him. They faced straight ahead, completely still, as though waiting for something. A man robed the same way stepped forward. "I did not expect you, Draco. You have walked in on something you should not have seen."
"Father? Where are we? Who are they?"
"You are not to know these things. At least, not yet. But you must learn a lesson. You must learn not to stumble upon things that are not your business."
Being only three years old at the time, Draco had no idea what his father was talking about. It was not until he saw his father aiming his wand that he thought something was wrong.
"Crucio!"
At once a sledgehammer of pain hit him, wracking his small body. He cried out and bit his lip so hard he drew blood. At first he could hear the protests of the other occupants of the clearing. He was just a child, he did not know what he was doing. But after a while his own screams drowned out any other sound. Utter agony gripped him, and he curled into a ball on the ground.
His muscles relaxed slightly when the curse was dropped. He felt weak. He had never imagined such pain could exist, but apparently… "Next time you see something you should not, you will feel the curse at its full force. Am I clear?"
Draco could not speak. He lay prone on the ground, unable to move to help himself, or for any other reason. His father took his face roughly with one hand and forced him to look into his eyes. His father's blue eyes, he could see through the mask, were cold and unloving. "I said, am I clear?"
Fearing for his life, Draco managed a weak, "Yes."
The figures dispersed, many muttering to themselves or each other about the shocking use of the curse. Draco felt some of his strength returning, and stood shakily. He looked around slowly. The clearing was empty except for his father. "Come along, Draco."
For a moment, the three year old did nothing. He stared at his father. When Lucius Malfoy took a step forward, Draco's fear kicked in. His father was blasted off his feet, backward across the clearing. Taking this opportunity, Draco took off into the woods, his fear lending him the strength to run.
He did not know how long he ran before his foot caught on a tree root. He fell to the ground, just barely catching himself. He lay there for quite a while, sobbing and shaking, until two of the family house elves came to retrieve him.
After this incident, he left the room whenever his father drew his wand, until the age of six. He could not stay in the same room as Lucius for months. His mother kept asking what was wrong, but he could only shake his head and stare into the floor. He never went into any forest again, if he could avoid it. ^*^
Later he learned that the people in the clearing were most of the Death Eaters who had not been caught. They were deciding what to do about Voldemort's sudden defeat. He also discovered that very few of them approved of what his father did to him that night.
His cheeks felt strange. His eyes stung. Reaching up, he felt the wetness glistening there. Cursing, he wiped all trace of tears from his face. He turned to go just as Harry Potter entered. *Just my luck,* Draco thought wryly.
"Out of my way, Potter," he snarled. He hastened out before Potter had the chance to respond. He might like Hermione, but he could never, ever be friends with Harry Potter.
End Chapter 8
Wow, guys. The reviews come fast for this story. I get more reviews per chapter for this story than any other. And I love you guys. I'm so glad you like this story. Really.
I'm in a fix. Or whatever you want to call it. I need some help. I cannot remember whether Hermione's wand was described in the books, and if so which book, etc. I'm not going to go looking through them all, I want the description for chapter 11. If anyone happens to know, could you please mention it in your review? Thanks!!
Please Review. I'll be forever grateful. Forever. And ever. And ever… wow that's a long time.