(a/n: I know that the previous part/chapter was written in present tense but present tense bugs me so I've switched to past tense and because I'm lazy I've left the first part/chapter as is. So no whining about it, please?)

"This spell is vital to auror or wizarding patrols, it can also be used for cheating on tests and other things which is why it not taught. However, the Headmaster has assured me that new spells have been placed to make sure that only place this spell can be performed and used, is outside of the castle and the main dining hall, where we are now." The new defense against dark arts teacher, Mistress Civis, drew herself up, her pale blue hair and dark skin almost hiding the wrinkles just starting to appear upon her delicate face, "The basic principle of the spell is a linking of minds, so that two wizards can speak without giving away their hiding place or communicate a plan of attack or escape without the enemy knowing. The spell is a simple one for the most part but can be fickle and tends to break without adequate attention or power. However, too much power or concentration will suck the weaker partner into the stronger partners mind. it's a very unsettling experience but not deadly or permanent. Best if we avoid it anyway though, alright?

"We've been studying the principals behind this spell for about a week now and I think that you are ready to begin attempting the usage of it. I will be putting you into groups of two and if you can accomplish the spell successfully we will test you and your partners range ability by standing at opposite sides of the hall and trying to send messages. For the most of you half the distance of the hall will be your maxim range. This is normal, there are very few that can range a distance as long as this hall.

"As a side note, the Headmaster has informed me that everyone will be participating whether he or she so feels inclined or not. I fully agree, this childish behavior of skipping out of classes, not finishing assignments or even attempting spells in class is just getting out of hand. Some people need to grow up, I think." She glares in my direction.

The Slytherin part of the class laughed outright at me, the Gryffindors stood in an awkward, embarrassed silence. Everyone looks down on me for what I've been doing, and everyone is ever so disappointed.

I leaned back upon one of the tables, clutching my fragile self-control together. What month was it? How long have I been like this again? I asked myself. The Christmas holiday starts tomorrow so I've inured this seed for almost seven months, over half of my remaining time is gone. Perhaps even less, I think that I am much too weak to live an entire year, I may very well kill myself if it gets much worse of maybe I'll just go to sleep and never wake up again. I looked at my hands cautiously, their gloved fingers staring up at me accusingly. The black, tendril roots of the seed had spread from my chest, since last month and now entwine my wrists and work their way down my legs. I can wear only turtlenecks now or else show the climbing tendrils upon my neck. I have discovered that after each attack the vines are longer, thicker and stronger. Each time the pain increases the vines have reached another nerve, another muscle to eventually destroy.

"…And that leaves Mr. Malfoy paired with Mr. Potter. Everyone get started then alright?"

I looked up slowly as everyone melted away, dispersing around the hall in groups of two. Draco walked haughtily over to the bench I was sitting on. Swinging his leg over he straddled the bench easily, glaring at me with cold eyes and a smirk upon his lips.

"Well then, Potter, shall we get started? Unlike you I actually care about my grades."

I nodded slowly.

"Still dying I see." He sneered arrogantly, "Take off your gloves and look at me Potter, we have to have skin to sin contact and eye contact to make this work. If you were remember from class, if you were even listening in class."

"Perhaps," I whispered, shuddering slightly, "It would be best if we did not do this. You…don't want to be inside my thoughts. I don't want to know my pain."

He snorted, "Yeah, right. Your pain, always the drama queen. Perhaps your more worried about screwing up?" He smirked at this.

"I haven't done a any magic for over seven months," I whispered with a shudder.

"Like I'm going to believe that." Draco snapped impatiently.

He grabbed my hand impatiently and pulled my gloves off. An eyebrow raised as he regarded the black lines that snaked around my wrists.

"Nice paintjob, Mr. Haven't used magic forever." Draco pointed out acidly as he pulled off my gloves.

I could feel my nerves growing taunt, a sign I had learned that had become the only warning of a coming attack, of the seed growing stronger.

I tried to pull away from him but his grip was strong, or perhaps it was that he was not weak.

"Don't." I said weakly.

He ignored me, "Do you remember the words of the spell?" he demanded.

I felt anger rise within, I hadn't felt any emotions for so long, it figures that it would be Draco to bring them back the surface. I hated him for knowing my secret and I hated for his cruelty, I hated him for removing my glove and for not caring just like everyone else. He thinks that I am lying about dying, about the pain. I'll show him what he does not believe show him true torture.

"I remember." I said softly, desperately holding back the tide of pain threatening to engulf me. I placed my hands against his and closed my eyes. As soon as we had touched the words flowed out of us in unison. It all came so easily, I barely had to think about it. The spell initiated and I felt his mind settle next to mine.

That wasn't so difficult. Draco said arrogantly in my mind, You alright, dieing boy?

Let me show you what dieing feels like. I snarled back and I grabbed his consciousness brutality, tying it to my own mind as the pain hit its crescendo.

I opened my eyes to the sounds of his screams as he fell from the bench to the floor. I watched as he curled into the fetal position I knew so well and all the while I marveled at my freedom from the pain. I stood, ever such an easy and simple motion, and stood over his shaking, sobbing form.