The Phoenix and Turtle
By Taelyn
Chapter: 10: Match Made in Heaven
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-righteous, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves."
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
"I love you so much--I can't believe I've never realized it before . . . ."
"We were both stupid; it's not your fault."
"How could we have stayed apart so long--how could I have not noticed how perfect you were for me?"
"It doesn't matter now, now that we're together, now that--"
"Ahem"
Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle turned around quickly, dropping each other's hands and taking a step back to put space between themselves. Evidently the conversation they had been having hadn't been as soft as they thought.
"I always wondered about you two," Hermione said, her eyebrows raised far up on her forehead and a smile playing on her lips as she stepped forward through the doorway. "And trust me when I say that you do make a great couple, but . . ." she gestured around her, "I'm sure that neither of you are prefects and am therefore very puzzled as to why you decided to rendez-vous in the prefect's bathroom of all places."
Crabbe looked at the white marble ground and muttered indistinctly about the cinnamon scented bubbles while Goyle studied the ceiling silently. Hermione sighed. It was too bloody bad that she only used her powers for good.
And slightly scary that she felt the sudden urge to smirk.
"Go," she said, feeling a sudden headache coming on. "I can trust you won't be helping Malfoy annoy any of my friends any time soon, can't I?" she went on, her voice insinuating blackmail.
Goyle squinted through his small eyes at her, a puzzled look on his face--which was just as surprising to Hermione as the scene she had walked in on moments before. Goyle had yet to grunt and crack his knuckles once, and Crabbe was collecting the dry towels that the couple had not had the chance to use.
"Malfoy hasn't been in the mood to do anything to any of you Gryffindors lately," Goyle said, looking eerily thoughtful.
Hermione looked down to hide the slight and sudden coloring of her cheeks, a reaction she couldn't understand the reason behind. "Well," she said, almost surly, "hurry up and get back to your common room. And no stopping in any dark corridors, either," she finished as she looked up in time to catch the furtive looks exchanged between the two burly Slytherins.
They nodded sheepishly and left quickly, and Hermione sat down beside the pool-size bathtub to steady herself. She had just witnessed a sleuth of emotions on the faces of Crabbe and Goyle moments after she had caught them nearly kissing.
Perhaps the cold weather had done more to her health then she had primarily thought.
Stripping down to her bathing suit, she stepped into the already prepared bath and sighed, relaxing into the warm foam and water. Surprisingly, she absolutely agreed with Crabbe. The night's trek through the cold halls had been completely worth those damn cinnamon bubbles.
As she treaded water, happy for the peace allowed her--as none of the prefects had had the same idea as she had--her mind started to wander.
She should have been in the mood to bite Crabbe and Goyle's heads clear of their wide shoulders, to screech and yell and then eat a quart of chocolate ice cream right out of the carton. But she was calm, hardly hungry and felt no need to rant on about the inferiority of men.
Five days ago, she had been late. Not to class of course, but more physically late. The kind of late that her mother had sat her down to talk about six years ago.
And there was no sign of a change today. The nightmare about the pregnancy test had been recurring every night, and Hermione was becoming illogically anxious. It was normal for her to skip a month once in a while, and her dreams had never proved prophetic.
More to the point, she would never . . . with him of all people . . . in the first place.
And yet.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she swam quickly back to the edge of the bath. Hoisting herself out and drying off, she refused to focus on anything more about Malfoy. And relaxing only seemed to lead to more thoughts.
Very unwelcome, confusing thoughts. She was suddenly beginning to sympathize with Crabbe and Goyle.
She needed to study, or to yell, or do anything but relax.
She needed to patrol anyway. Thank Merlin for Peeves.
Hermione Granger woke up the next morning in a panic. She was sure it was far past breakfast and that she had already missed part of her Arithmancy class. To top it all off, she didn't even remember if she had rechecked her Potions essay.
Then she remembered it was Sunday, and felt, for the first in her life that she could remember, relief that it wasn't a school day.
She didn't like this change. She also didn't like the fact that she had opened her eyes thinking about Draco Malfoy.
"I wish . . ." she began wistfully, never chancing to see how her mind would finish the sentence. Instead, she hopped out of bed and dressed quickly, intent on getting down to the infirmary as fast as she could.
As soon as Hermione walked into the door she spied Ginny. The sixth-year Gryffindor was staring calmly at a furious Madame Pomfrey, who was towering over her bed.
"You think that I'll believe that you weren't whispering "they're coming to get you" in Christopher's ear as he was sleeping?" Hermione heard the school nurse say impatiently.
"Charm my heart and hope to die," Ginny said, all wide-eyed innocence. Hermione looked over to see that Ginny's neighbor--who was none other than the Head Boy--was cowering, only his eyes and the top of his head peeking out from the white sheets.
Madame Pomfrey left in a huff to see to her other patients, and Ginny stifled a giggle as Hermione walked toward her, her eyes raised in a silent question.
"Did you do that to him?" she asked, her voice low as she motioned to a pale Christopher.
"No," Ginny said sulkily. "Blaise got to him first. She did this stupid glamour spell and now he sees gigantic scorpions crawling on the ceiling."
Hermione gasped. "That's terrible," she said, wondering if she should criticize Ginny for making Christopher's stay in the infirmary much harder than it should have been. Instead, she only crossed her arms and asked "how did you get Madame Pomfrey to let you sleep in the bed beside him?"
"Oh, she didn't," Ginny said quickly, a smile playing on her lips. "I moved during the night, which is probably why she was so suspicious of me."
Hermione couldn't help it. A short laugh escaped her lips that made Christopher scowl. Ginny turned around and stuck her tongue out at the Ravenclaw before turning back to Hermione.
"I heard about your fight," Ginny said applauding silently. "I absolutely approve."
Hermione grinned. "He absolutely deserved it, didn't he?
"Definitely, and I can see that he gave as much as he got," Ginny said, pointing to the bruise low on Hermione's cheek.
Hermione winced. "Yes, well, I'm still so cold from the detention yesterday that it's still numb.
"Bastard," Ginny said under her breath.
Hermione suddenly didn't want to discuss Malfoy. She didn't have the nerves left to even think about him.
"So, how's Harry?" Hermione asked.
"He came away from the fight with Malfoy unharmed, but his momentarily cheery mood has disappeared," Ginny said, her face suddenly falling. "He yelled at Hedwig and then would hardly even talk to me. He's in the common room with Ron brooding over his perpetual darkness and finishing his Divination homework."
"He's been a lot happier ever since you two got together," Hermione said supportively watching as Ginny slumped back on to her pillow dejectedly.
"And yet, for the normal person, that's minimal good mood days. I know he's been through a lot, and, with all of the disappearances lately, he must be scared . . . ."
Hermione sighed. "Let's talk about something else Ginny," she said and her friend smiled gratefully.
"Thanks," she said, "now what's this new subject you are so readyand willing to discuss?"
Hermione smiled, and then sighed again. 'The hell with it,' she thought.
"Ginny, I have this friend, and, well, she's late," Hermione held her breath, hoping that her very transparent plan might work.
Ginny stared at her. "Hermione, Harry and I haven't had sex--"
Hermione turned bright red. "I know that--I didn't mean you or to insinsuate . . . " she exclaimed quickly. And then swallowed back at the slight wave of nausea caused by the image that had momentarily flashed through her head. "And--please don't ever tell me if you do."
Ginny frowned. "Then who is this friend?" she asked, confused. "Hermione, do you--"
But before she could say anything else, or make any further guesses, they heard the infirmary door creak open.
"Hermione? Are you in here?"
Ron walked in, avoiding the harsh stare of Madame Pomfrey and sidestepping several patients just about to leave.
Hermione looked up and smiled at him as he saw her.
"What do you want Ron?" asked Ginny exasperatedly.
Ron scowled at his sister. "To talk to Hermione alone," he said, his eyes narrowed.
"Well, I would ask all of these patients to leave, but I'm not exactly sure that Samuel can walk yet," Ginny snapped sarcastically. "If you need to talk to her, go outside." She turned to Hermione.
"I'll see you later, that is, unless anything interesting happens anytime soon that you might want to talk about," she said, her voice hinting at . . .what it was Hermione couldn't figure out, but Ron blushed red at her words.
"Bloody sisters."
Hermione turned around after carefully closing the door to the infirmary as quietly as possible.
"What is it you wanted to talk to me about, Ron?" she asked, peering down at her skirt--which had hitched up as she sat beside Ginny on the bed--and moving quickly to push it back down over her legs.
The cloudiness in Ron's eyes cleared slightly as his line of vision moved quickly away from the part of her legs now covered by her skirt and further up her body.
Well, not that much further up her body.
"Ron," she snapped quickly, frowning as she watched the boy in front of her--her best friend of nearly seven years--choke and stutter as he tried to get a sentence out of his mouth.
"Hermione--I--I," he began, his mouth suddenly dry and hot, the palms of his hands slick with sweat. It wasn't fair that, on this day of all days, strands of her hair had to fall so gracefully out of its bun to frame her face. That her cheeks had to be faintly rosy, that her jumper seemed to just perfectly hug her body, that her eyes--"
"Ron?"
"Ah yes," he said quickly, his mind snapping back to the task at hand. "Err, Hermione, can I ask you, erm, a . . . question?" he began, praying that his voice didn't really sound as hoarse and soft as it sounded inside his head.
Hermione pursed her lips, a slight frown suddenly on her face.
"Ron, if this is about Friday when I saw you looking at my paper in Charms, then yes, I did feel it necessary to tell Professor Flitwick that he might need to implement cover sheets or an anti-cheating spell for each exam."
"Hermione, I didn't cheat off--you're the one that gave him the idea to use anti-cheating spells? Hermione, why do you always have to be so difficult; it was only a weekly grade," Ron said angrily.
Hermione crossed her arms and tried unsuccessfully to look down her nose at the much taller boy. "Ronald Weasely, as Head Girl it is my duty--"
"Blah blah, we all know, Hermione, about your duties," he said irritably.
"Ron, if that's all you have to say, then we have nothing more to discuss," Hermione said, uncrossing her arms and stalking past him.
Ron closed his eyes, frustrated at his own temper. "Hermione, will you just bloody stop," he said, a hint of plea in his voice as he followed her down the hall.
"I will not, Ron, because it seems that--"
"I LIKE YOU," Ron nearly bellowed, causing Hermione to screech to a halt in front of him.
"What?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she slowly turned to face him.
Ron's ears turned bright red as he suddenly became very interested in the hall floor. "I like you," he muttered again, much more softly than the first time. "As much more than a friend."
Hermione didn't say anything as she felt the blush creeping back into her cheeks. Up until the end of sixth year she had been wishing to hear those words, finally giving up on it completely only after she heard about Ron's summer fling while in France. Now to hear what she had blown out candles, wished on stars, and crossed her fingers for less than a year ago was--
"I know that we've always only been friends and that you think there's still something there between me and Lilah--which there isn't--and that I'm springing this on you--" Ron rambled, unable to meet Hermione's eyes as he spoke to her. "--And that this comes a little late, this being seventh year and all, and with your Head Girl responsibilities you probably wouldn't be able to have a relationship, but do you want to? Have one--a relationship, I mean?"
He finally looked up, searching her face as she took in a breath, and opened her mouth to answer--
"Move out of the way, you ponce," Ron heard as he felt someone shove him out of the middle of the narrow hallway. He turned quickly, embarrassed that anyone had happened upon them during his very loud, very personal outburst.
"Go get stuffed, Malfoy," he spat as he watched the pale boy walk around him to stand in front of Hermione--who also was blocking his path.
Hermione looked up into Draco's eyes when he stopped close enough to her that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. And for a moment she thought she saw something other than the cold arrogance that his face usually held. The word jealousy popped too quickly into her mind for her own comfort.
"Get out of my way mudblood," Draco hissed coldly, but making no move to physically move her.
Hermione winced almost unnoticeably at the slur, and Ron growled menacingly behind Malfoy, but she held up her hand to stop any attack he had in mind. She moved only enough so she could she Ron, still barring Draco's way past her.
"Don't worry Ron," she said icily, "he's not worth it." Her eyes returned to Malfoy as she said the last words, mirroring the coldness in his own gaze.
"And yes Ron," she continued, just as coolly. "I can think of nothing that would make me happier than to have a relationship with you," she said, her eyes never leaving Draco's face.
She expected a harsh remark from the Slytherin in front of her, but none came, and she moved aside to let him pass.
As soon as he was gone, Ron frowned after him.
"You should have let me hit him just once, Hermione," he said grimly, and then, finally realizing that she had answered his question, he smiled at her, and then returned to staring at the ground.
"So," he said, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. "Next Hogsmeade visit?" he asked, and Hermione smiled, banishing all of the unsettling thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind.
"Absolutely," she agreed, taking his hand in her own momentarily and squeezing it softly, before turning back towards the infirmary. Evidently, she did have something to tell.
Moments later, a completely red faced Hermione and a giggling Ginny emerged from the infirmary, nearly running down the halls as Madam Pomfrey burst out the doorway after them, her voice reverberating off the stone walls.
"--you ever let me see you in this infirmary again, Gineva Weasely, unless you're on the edge of death!" she said, pulling the door shut with a resounding crash.
Ginny looked over at Hermione, who seemed about torn between utter terror and amusement.
"Did you have any idea what those pills would do?" she asked Ginny, her voice trembling slightly.
"Oh, like he didn't deserve it," Ginny scoffed, linking arms with the girl beside her and nearly skipping down the hallway. "Like that curse that Blaise put on him actually taught him a lesson."
Hermione frowned. "He was carrying out his responsibilities as Head Boy in the first place," she said slightly angrily.
"--which you will have to carry out for him until our lovely Madame Pomfrey gets the boy off the ceiling," Ginny said, half-laughing at Hermione's serious countenance. "Now, on to more important things," she said, stopping in the hall and turning to face Hermione.
The older girl blushed. "Yes, well, we would have been able to discuss it earlier if you hadn't been so set on revenge, but, well--Ron asked me if I fancied a relationship with him."
Ginny's smile widened. "And . . . ?"
Hermione looked slightly embarrassed as she grinned back at the red-haired witch, who jumped up and down with glee at the unspoken affirmation.
"Took him long enough," she said, and smiling warmly, she looked closely at Hermione's face.
"Don't hurt him, or I'll have to beat you up," she joked good naturedly, and Hermione laughed.
"I promise I won't--I could never hurt Ron," she said, and Ginny nodded her head slightly.
"I know," said Ginny, becoming seriously silent for a moment before she looked back up at the girl next to her.
"Hermione, who were you talking about right before Ron--"
She stopped and Hermione turned around to see Harry walking toward them, grinning widely.
Ginny stared open-mouthed as he stopped in front of her, the girl not moving an inch even as he picked her up off the ground and began to kiss her fiercely.
Hermione rolled her eyes. There must be some sort of pheromones in the air today.
When Harry finally put Ginny back on the ground, she stood completely ridged, her breaths coming fast and her eyes closed.
"Wha-what was that for?" she asked, finally opening her eyes and staring at the beaming boy in front of her.
"They caught Bellatrix Lestrange outside Glasgow," he said and Hermione watched as pain flashed through his green eyes though his smile didn't waver. "She's now under heavy guard in an undisclosed location."
"That's great Harry," Hermione said, trying to hide her concern for her friend.
"That's not the end of it. That attack and that beast in Hogsmeade last week? The boy woke up and the authorities have concluded that it had nothing to do with Voldemort," he said happily, and Hermione suddenly understood that, if it had been, Harry would have probably felt guilty for the entire episode.
Ginny, without any warning, grabbed Harry around his neck and pulled him into a long kiss that Hermione looked quickly away from. When they finally broke off, both gasping, she placed her forehead on his and opened her eyes to meet his.
"It's nice that you're happy," she said, and Harry smiled completely for the girl in front of him.
Ginny sighed. "Hermione, could you maybe--" she began as she turned around, but Hermione was gone, disappearing from their sight and hurrying up to the common room.
"Hermione?" Ron asked as she burst into the Gryffindor common room.
"Ron, I have to talk to that boy," she said urgently. "The one in the hospital--I have to know what happened to him."
"Hermione calm down, just calm down," Ron said, getting up from his seat and walking over to her quickly. He went to put his arms around her, but she squirmed away.
"Do you think there's some way I can get to the hospital?" she asked quickly, ignoring him as he tried to get her to stand still.
"There's no way Dumbledore would let you go off school grounds, but Hermione--"
"Ron, you really don't understand--I have to know, please don't question me."
"Hermione! Please just listen to me!"
Hermione calmed down enough to look at him. "What, Ron?"
"I just talked to my father. I was here when Harry heard, when Dad told him what the boy said. I know what happened to him."
Hermione didn't say a word or move for a few moments. Then she sat down in one of the cushioned chairs and looked up at Ron.
"Tell me," she said simply.
"You don't understand," he said angrily, sitting up beside her. "My father has too many allies outside of Azkaban for either of us to ever be safe if this got out," he said harshly, and she stared at him.
"He'd have me killed," Hermione said simply, and Draco nodded. She got up quickly, pulling a sheet with her and causing Draco to nearly fall off the bed.
"I've been through more pain than you can imagine tonight," she hissed as he stared at her. "But this . . . what we have . . . I would go through this entire night again for what's happened between us. And you're asking me to pretend it never happened . . . to pretend . . ."
Her voice stopped, choked by tears and Draco immediately got up.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his arms closing around the trembling girl as she sobbed against his chest. "You're still weak Hermione," he said, and she looked up at him through clouded eyes, hiccupping loudly as she tried to get her crying under control.
"Di-didn't seem to be so weak earlier tonight," she half-joked as Draco led her back to the bed.
"Please, Hermione, lie down," he said softly.
She sniffed. "You're only saying that because I have the only sheet around me.
Draco smirked. "True," he said, looking down and realizing that he was naked. " I'd rather see you without the sheet than myself, I can't deny that."
Hermione laughed quietly, then turned suddenly serious as she looked at him.
"Hermione, what's wro--" Draco began to ask but never finished as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips urgently to his, the kiss equally demanding and vulnerable as her tongue slipped into his mouth. Groaning slightly, he gently broke the kiss.
"You're weak," he said breathlessly, finding both of them back on the bed, her naked form pressed into his. "And a few more minutes of this and I won't be able to stop.
Hermione sat back and nodded, trying to hide the oncoming and untimely yawn.
"This is actually the first time I've ever been glad that tomorrow isn't a school day," Hermione said, smiling sadly. "We'll talk in the morning?" she asked as she followed him up the bed and nestled into his arms.
"Tomorrow," he said, sure to cover the catch in his voice as he felt her breathing slow.
Hermione fell asleep smiling, scars from only hours ago already beginning to fade.
But Draco couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, studying the darkness that surrounded their entwined bodies much later into the night.
A/N: I actually finished this on July 31, but that was while I was at the beach sans internet access. Yes, about Crabbe and Goyle--Who hasn't had certain questions about their . . . relationship? Hem hem I really hope all of you like it though, especially since it's slowly, through the process of editing, turning out to be my favorite chapter so far. So, please please please review. I won't beg . . . Oh who am I kidding . . . I'll balance flaming torches on my nose for an opinion or two: please don't make me though. Last time that happened I almost lost an eye and then the Russian circus man had that restraining order put on me and . . . yeah well. Errrmm. Just a day in the life. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far--they make me a very happy camper. Or beach-goer. Oh whatever.
Thanks to everyone who pointed out mistakes in the last couple chapters: most of them were dumb mistakes that I should have caught--so thanks. And also: My computer screen won't brighten so I can only barely see what I'm writing right now--which also means that I can't do that last minute edit chack. So please forgive any slight errors and point them out to me.
Take care, Taelyn