A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? I finally got my laptop fixed! ^_^ Here's an extra long chapter; I'm trying to make up for lack of updates.
Thank you to everyone who's reviewed since I last posted. You really are my inspiration to continue. I would say thank you individually, but it's 2:55am right now and I'm just way too tired. Besides, I think getting this posted is the main thing. Enjoy!
~Lady Deathscythe 27th March, 2004
Chapter 6 – Another Dream and a Wedding in the Works
Hermione stared at the boy in front of her, transfixed at the sight. She felt the need somewhere inside of her to say something, but found herself unable to utter a sound.
Draco seemed unperturbed. "Well, don't just stand there," he said in an annoyingly superior tone. "Pass me a robe."
It was at that point that Hermione noticed. Draco had asked her for a robe. Her preoccupation with the transformation process had led to her normally alert mind to miss an important fact. He wasn't wearing any clothes.
Despite the fact that Draco's modesty was protected by the massive four-poster, Hermione blushed furiously and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Fumbling awkwardly for a robe, arms outstretched, she inwardly sighed with relief when her fingers came into contact with the soft fabric. She opened her eyes for a split second so that she could toss the robe in Draco's general direction, then firmly closed them again.
Draco smirked as he noticed her discomfort. He pulled on the robe, fastening it absently.
"About time they fixed your stupid charm," Draco said, seating himself on the bed. "You would think no one ever got hexed around here before. What took them so long anyway?"
Hermione composed herself mentally, opening her eyes cautiously. "It was…complicated."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
Hermione sighed, resigning herself to explain the problem with the charm on her original wand.
"A little paranoid, aren't you?" Draco noted when Hermione had explained. "Putting a charm on your wand to stop interference in your spells…"
Hermione didn't say anything. She didn't particularly want an argument. She was already feeling drained both physically and emotionally. The dreams, taking care of Draco, along with her schoolwork, homework and prefect duties had taken their toll.
Draco stayed silent for a few moments, watching Hermione who appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. "Don't you have something to do, Granger?" he suddenly asked pointedly.
Hermione looked up at him. "Oh, don't mind me, I was just leaving." The brunette walked towards the door and placed her fingertips lightly on the handle. She stared at the oak panelling on the door, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "There's a prefect meeting tomorrow," she spoke softly. "After last period."
Draco nodded in acknowledgement, despite realising that Hermione couldn't see it. "I'll be there."
Hermione opened the door and stepped through, closing it behind her.
* * *
"You're kidding, right?" Ron blurted out. "I mean, there's no way Trelawney gave a real prophecy. She's a right old windbag."
Hermione had finally found a few spare moments to explain what happened after Divination to Harry and Ron. She shook her head. "No Ron. This time, it was definitely for real." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I think I missed the first part."
"We can't worry about that now," Harry pointed out. "Let's just focus on what you do remember."
Hermione tried to think back to the Divination lesson. "It was something about the Dark Lord's followers standing in the way of something. She mentioned the 'Master of Serpents'."
"That would be Salazar Slytherin, wouldn't it?" Harry asked.
"Don't think it could mean anyone else, except You-Know-Who," Ron said.
"I do remember the last part," Hermione said then. "It was a warning. 'Beware however, sons and daughters of the dark, for the cycle is coming to an end'."
"What cycle?" Ron asked in exasperation.
"It is a bit vague, Hermione," Harry said.
"I'm sorry, but that's all I can remember. I didn't exactly expect Professor Trelawney to turn into a prophet." Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I'll see if I can find something in the library tomorrow," she said. "Right now, I have to get some sleep."
* * *
Back in her own room, Hermione yawned loudly as she all but fell into bed. It had been such a long day. She had spent too much time, unwillingly of course, in the company of Snape today, what with her potions lesson (Pansy was still recovering in the hospital wing) and having to meet the professor in the Slytherin common room when lessons were over. At least, she mused, she no longer had to take care of Draco. That particular ordeal was over… Not that it was really that much of an ordeal. Hermione had to admit, if only to herself, that taking care of Draco had actually been quite pleasant. Even Ron had come around to the idea, despite the fact that all his hard work had had no effect whatsoever on the pup.
"Speaking of which…" Hermione mumbled to herself. She wanted to tell Harry and Ron that Draco - no, Malfoy – was now back to normal. She pushed her body upwards into a sitting position and suddenly felt dizzy. "On second thoughts, they'll find out in the morning along with everyone else…" She fell asleep soon after.
~*Dream*~
It's hot…and…what's that light? Hermione blinked slowly. The light dimmed, enough for Hermione to make out her surroundings. The sun looks really big… It dawned on her that she wasn't actually standing on solid ground – she was floating twenty feet in the air. What the-?! She flailed her arms wildly for a few moments, until it became clear that she wasn't about to fall. Instinctively, she looked down. She could see people talking below – a woman, with two men. Not quite understanding how, Hermione drifted down towards the people, close enough to make out their words.
"– and I've already chosen flowers for the ceremony," the young woman spoke enthusiastically.
One of the men had long blond hair. As he spoke, Hermione felt an inexplicable shiver down her spine. "Very good. All of the other arrangements are being taken care of, I presume?"
"Oh yes, everything should be ready by the deadline."
"Then we shall proceed as planned."
The other man grunted in an annoyance.
The older man directed his gaze towards him. "Is there a problem, son?" The words contained a scarcely veiled threat.
The young man did not reply, folding his arms abruptly. The woman walked over to him. "I can't believe it, we're finally getting married." Her words were ignored, but the young man didn't shake her hold on his arm.
"You should be pleased," his father said then. The High Priestess of Mars is a very good match for you." He looked directly over at her. "So pretty and well-mannered."
The Priestess laughed in a fond manner.
"Would you please excuse my son and me for a moment?" the man said then, speaking to the woman.
"Oh, of course Caesar," she replied demurely. She curtseyed twice, once to the long-haired man, then to his son. "Excuse me." She walked a little way away from them and sat on a large stone bench, adjusting her skirt slightly. Hermione noted their clothing with interest. Definitely Roman style…She turned her attention back to the men's conversation.
"Listen well, my son." The man's voice had changed dramatically. It was much more commanding and the threatening tone was now very obvious. "You will marry that girl in a month's time, whether you like her or not." He stared hard at his son. "She will bring the favour of the God of War to our side. She is necessary to our cause."
"Your cause, you mean."
"Very well," he smirked. "My cause. Either way, you will go through with it. You have no choice."
Hermione's vision became hazy just then, and the image began to fade. Little by little, the scene blacked out.
~*Reality*~
The sunlight streamed through the windows, thanks to the curtains having been neglected the night before. Hermione awoke with sunlight in her eyes and with a throbbing headache. She groaned inaudibly, as Crookshanks leapt up onto the bed pacing back and forth, making it impossible for her to go back to sleep. She felt drained. This latest dream had made sleeping a complete waste of her time; she felt no better for it, despite having been in bed for- Hermione gasped, she was late for breakfast!
Throwing the covers off, she jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. Crookshanks hissed as he barely made it off the bed in time to miss being swept away with the sheets. "Sorry Crookshanks!" Hermione called absently, as she slipped on her shoes. Yanking a brush quickly through her hair, Hermione dashed off towards the Great Hall. She sat down just as Ron and Harry finished their breakfast.
"Hermione," Harry greeted her. "What happened to you? You almost missed breakfast."
"Overslept," she muttered sourly, by way of explanation.
Ron raised an eyebrow. "You overslept?"
Hermione had yet to inform her two best friends about her strange dreams or visions, but she was pretty sure that the crowded Gryffindor table was not the place to tell them. "Yes Ron, I am human." Changing the subject, she asked the two boys what they were going to do that morning, since both had a free period straight after breakfast.
"Quidditch practice," Harry said. "We're playing Slytherin in a week's time."
"And speaking of which," Ron said then, "Why didn't you tell us Malfoy was back to normal?" His voice cracked slightly.
Hermione cringed. "I was going to tell you both last night, but I was just so tired…" She looked anxiously around the room. "Where is he anyway?"
"He's already gone," Harry informed her. "He stayed long enough to finish his breakfast and to tell me that the only reason that I could possibly beat him next week is because of all the practice time he's missed."
"Same old, same old," Ron muttered. "We'll grind him into the pitch."
"Well," Hermione said then. "I have something to talk to both of you about. It's kind of important. Do you think you could spare me a few minutes before your practice session?"
"Hermione, didn't you say that you have a Prefects' Meeting this morning?" Harry asked her.
"Oh no!"
* * *
Hermione was feeling annoyed. Okay, perhaps annoyed isn't quite the word. She had just about reached a state of mind in which she wanted to take the entity causing her dreams and lock it in a cage with lots and lots of Boggarts. She wanted to scream with frustration – but that wasn't normal behaviour for a school Prefect. She gritted her teeth and resigned herself to copying out her notes. Snape was apparently in a bad mood – he had forced the entire class to copy notes out of a textbook, rather than actually teaching anything. And that wasn't the end of it. For his very 'favourite' students, he'd take one look at their work and tell them that he couldn't understand their scrawling writing and to copy it all out again.
On the other hand, Pansy was still in the hospital wing, suffering from balloon earlobes, amongst other things. Pansy apparently hadn't paid much attention to what she'd been adding to Hermione's potion. Draco wasn't there either, though Hermione had no idea why.
She looked over at Ron sympathetically. He was on his fourth parchment, and his handwriting, which had been perfectly legible from the start, was now beginning to resemble an eight-year-old's. Harry was on his third, but had decided to slow down his copying. He reasoned that, the more time he took over it, the less he'd have to copy out, since the lesson was due to be over any time now.
Snape rose from his desk. "Put away your things and leave your notes on the desk as you leave." Hermione sighed inwardly, glad that the day's lessons were over, and of course, that it was now officially the weekend.
* * *
Someone who wasn't glad for the weekend to arrive was the conspicuous missing student, Draco Malfoy. Draco was currently in Dumbledore's office, along with the Headmaster and none other than his father, Lucius. Lucius was currently speaking to Dumbledore in a sneering voice, whilst Draco was fervently wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
"So, why exactly was I not informed of Draco's condition?" Lucius asked irritably. "Do you believe that it was unnecessary to let me know?"
"Not exactly," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I was merely interested in keeping Mister Malfoy's pride intact. I do not believe that he would want such an occurrence to become common knowledge."
"And what would a muggle-lover such as yourself know about Malfoy pride?" Lucius sneered.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that Lucius."
Lucius glared. "And what of the… girl? I supposed she has yet to be punished?"
"Miss Granger's misconduct has been dealt with."
"Appropriately?"
"I believe that your definition of appropriate and mine differ somewhat, Lucius," Dumbledore said.
"Quite."
The two wizards looked at each other in a stony silence. Then Dumbledore spoke. "Do you wish to add anything to the conversation Draco?"
"No Sir," Draco said in a monotone.
"In that case, I'll be taking my leave," Lucius muttered. "Seeing as you have everything under control."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, smiling.
"Draco." Lucius indicated that the boy should follow him. Together they left the office. "Draco, why was I not informed?" he asked immediately.
Draco didn't flinch under his stare. "I didn't think it was important."
"Not important?" Lucius glared. "You were hexed by a mudblood. Draco, you let your guard down. You're becoming lax in your training. Do I need to take you home over this weekend to refresh your memory?"
Draco shook his head. "No. It won't happen again."
"Make sure that it doesn't."
"Father," Draco said then, sure that the danger period was over.
"Yes?"
"How did you find out?"
Lucius smirked. "The Parkinson girl."
"…I see."
"Don't do anything too permanent son." Lucius said silkily. "Despite his idiotic tendencies, I happen to need the girl's father on my side."
* * *
Lucius left later that evening and as soon as Draco was sure the cost was clear, he went straight towards the hospital wing. Upon entering, he encountered Madam Pomfrey. "Good evening," he said smoothly, "I'm here to see Pansy, if she's awake." Draco didn't see the point in being rude to the medi-witch; it would only hinder him. "Mister Malfoy," she said in acknowledgement. "I'll check if she's awake." As Madam Pomfrey went into another room, Draco huffed in annoyance. Damn that Parkinson. It was all her fault in the first place – insulting Granger's parents like that. And then to tell Lucius!
Madam Pomfrey came back in. "You can see her," she told him cordially.
Draco nodded in reply, and promptly made his way through the door. "Draco," Pansy said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes. Draco muttered a silencing spell.
"Cut the theatrics Pansy," he said bluntly. "Why'd you tell Lucius?"
Pansy sputtered. "I- I just-"
Draco fixed her with a cold glare. "Did it not occur to you that I might not want him to know?"
"Draco," she whined. "They let that mudblood get away with it!"
"They let you get away with it too."
"Huh?"
"You started this when you insulted Granger's parents. You didn't even get told off."
"But Draco!"
"But nothing. If you ever interfere in my business without my permission again Pansy, you'd better watch out."
Pansy fumed at this. Along with her swollen earlobes it was quite a sight to behold. But Draco was in no mood to find it amusing. "You can't threaten me, Draco Malfoy!"
"Can't I?"
"Perhaps now, but not for long," she said smirking triumphantly.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about Parkinson?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Tell me. Now." The murderous look in Draco's eyes was enough to convince Pansy that telling him was the only sane option.
"Your father, he- he was talking with my father, a few weeks ago at a dinner party." She faltered.
"Spit it out Pansy."
"They said we're going to be married!"
* * *
"So, how was Quidditch practice this morning?" Hermione asked.
"It was great!" Ron said excitedly, leaning forward on the couch. He then proceeded to give Hermione a full account of his training that morning. Harry smiled at Ron's childish enthusiasm. Looking over at Hermione, something stirred in his memory.
"Hermione?" he said, when Ron had finished. "This morning, you said you wanted to tell us something?"
"Oh yes," Hermione remembered. "But I'm feeling too tired to talk about it right now; I'll tell you later."
Harry frowned inwardly. Why was she avoiding it now? "You said it was important."
"It'll wait," she said firmly.
"What was your Prefects' Meeting about, 'mione?" Ron asked, bringing Harry's questioning to a close.
"Some of the girls in the 4th and 5th years want to hold a dance," Hermione told him.
"Great…"
"I take it you don't like dances."
"That's because I can't dance," Ron said sourly.
"Well, we're having it on New Years Eve."
"I thought it was supposed to be at Christmas," Harry said.
"Initially, it was. But, most of the students go home at Christmas. We thought it more plausible that the students come back a couple of days early, rather than miss out on Christmas with their families."
"Good idea," Ron said.
It was Draco's idea…
The thought of Draco annoyed Hermione to no end. He hadn't said anything about what she'd done to him, unintentionally of course. He'd really been quite civilised. Hermione didn't trust him one bit. The fact that she didn't know whether or not he remembered anything from his week as a husky was bothering her too.
Then she realised that she was still thinking of him as Draco. She shrieked inwardly. It's Malfoy, not Draco, Malfoy! She snapped out of her reverie to find Harry and Ron both watching her with identical bemused expressions. She stared back at them blankly, before bidding them goodnight and heading towards her room. She almost called out to Draco as she had become accustomed to doing over the past week but checked herself in time.
Later that night, Hermione lay awake in bed. She didn't understand. Why did she suddenly not want to tell Harry and Ron about her dreams? It was nothing to do with fear of not being believed – they'd never doubt her words. Ever since she'd remembered that they didn't have a clue about the dreams, she'd also had this nagging feeling that she shouldn't tell anyone. Sighing heavily, she rolled over on the bed and finally fell into a deep slumber.
The dreams came again that night.