A/N: Here's my new chapter! and wow did it take forever.
to my reviewers! thanks a million!!! You have no idea how much it helps to have you guys critiquing this.
S/S: You are SO helpful! Before I wrote this chapter I almost forgot to write about the years before light and now it totally took over this entry. lol. There will be more as to why Draco has turned. And you will see. And you wil like!! haha thanks again! and you start writing again. thanks a million times a billion!!
Luthien: always a pleasure luthien. always a pleasure. and yes ive been trying to fit in the dancing mongoose somewhere…but its just not working out right now! wait wait…I could put it in…there….no wait I lost it. hahah keep writing!
and lo and behold: my story
Disclaimer: just as not all that glitter is pure gold, not all that I write is purely mine (purely. I think I can claim ownership to Draco…RIGHT??????) fine. give me nothing ::pouts::
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Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hermione stared at the man before her as the world became one again. His face was rigid with sadness, jaw locked, struggling to keep from screaming. His eyes told every tale of misery known to man. They flicked to hers, becoming poignantly unfocused. The firelight played with the silver specks in his eyes as he leaned forward, chin resting on his clenched fists. His knuckles were white and his face was pale.
"Draco. . ." Hermione breathed, unsure of what to say. Her eyes brimmed with emotion as she stared at the broken strength before her.
"Don't." He said putting his hands down and turning his eyes to meet hers. She stared at him and in that moment she wished with all her heart that she knew him. That she could talk to him, help him beyond her current state of inelegance. Her once perfect life flooded back to her and she knew she would never be the same.
"Draco, I -" She faltered, trying to take his hand in her own.
"Please." He drew his hand away sharply. The red firelight glowed onto his face as he stared into golden brown eyes. The tears that had been threatening to break his barrier of hostility and mock finally forced their way down his face. He stood slowly, removing his eyes from hers, and left her sitting in the suddenly empty room.
Hermione gave in to the grief and threw herself down onto the couch, sobbing emotively without making a sound. She hadn't realized how long they had been working, but their time together had flown by: it was nearly midnight. She curled onto the pillows and lay there for an hour or more, immobilized by this confrontation of strangers who were obvious of each other until now.
How could she be so blind? She never had understood how little she knew about Draco until that moment. Draco, she thought to herself. His name, not his father's. She was overwhelmed in guilt and had feelings she thought she would never have for him. She shook off her hate for him, or what was left of it. She knew now that he had never changed, she was just now giving him the chance to be this person she could feel in his eyes.
Quickly, she wiped her tears and walked to his door, sliding it open with her fingertips. He was standing in the middle of the darkened, expansive bedroom, bathed in moonlight. His shadow stretched out behind him as he faced away from the door, towards the glistening stars. He had his jacket half off, as if he was frozen mid-air. She could see the reflection of his tear stained, uninhabited face in the pains of the glass.
If he saw her coming he didn't say anything. "I'm so sorry," Hermione struggled with the words as she walked to him, her image appearing distorted by an unearthly glow in the glass. "For all these years . . . everything."
She walked around his side and put her hand on his arm. Her salty tears fell down her face in guilt. She wrapped her arms around his neck in finality and pressed her head against his shoulder. Feeling him lean towards her, his damp face brushed against hers. He bent his head down to her shoulder and buried his face in her hair.
"I am too," He pulled away from her slightly, keeping his arms at her waist, and looked down at her sadly. For all these years, they had never understood one another. They're friendship non-existent, they're hatred habitual.
"Never again," she whispered through her tears. How could she be so blind? He was a broken man, hiding behind whatever strength he could muster: which was usually in the form of hatred. It was no wonder that most people only saw him as bitter. His life was bleak, if not empty of all compassion. "I won't let it. . ."
He pulled her closer to him, though he was no longer upset: she was feeling more pain for him than he ever had. He placed his head on hers and ran his hand through her hair. They stood timelessly motionless, with only the sound of their breath escaping the once empty room. The moonlight crept through the window, elongating their shadows on the soft cream carpet. As the moon disappeared over the horizon, it lit the dark green walls in its silver light before retiring to darkness.
Hermione's crying subsided slowly and her breaths came easily. She stood quietly on her toes to his cheek. "Goodnight, Draco." She brushed his cheek with her lips and looked into his eyes, her lashes barely touching his skin.
His heart was racing. He stared at her slowly, before lifting his chin to kiss her forehead. "Night, 'Mione." He smiled, knowing he'd stolen Potter's nickname for her. She grinned before leaving his arms, holding his hand as she backed away to the light of the commons room.
Hermione closed the door softly behind her and buckled onto the chair before her, curling up with a soft red blanket. She yawned softly, stifling it with her hand. How quickly things change. A few hours ago she would have dreaded spending more than a minute with that boy. And now she could stop thinking about him. Not only was he a brilliant wizard (he was well known all throughout Hogwarts), but he was stunning beautiful when he wasn't showing off. His eyes were filled with so much struggle and wisdom that it humbled her with a single glance.
She shivered at the thought of his stare and drew the blanket up to her shoulders and leaned back against the plush pillows. His icy existence was slowly melting away whatever reality she once had. He was rather handsome for an ice god. . .
As her mind drifted away to her dreams, the visions from the night before replayed over and over again. She had to ask him about the things she had seen. How could he hide this for all these years? Who was "She?" Is he alright now? He certainly seemed strong. But that could all be part of his act: she had been fooled by him before. Her eyes fluttered to a close and she drifted off into a restless, confused dream.
While she slept, Draco paced around his room. He was enraged, but he didn't understand why. He stared out the window at the crystallized night. He could feel winter drifting into the air through the pains in his window. It would not be long until the Grand Winter Ball would be held as it was for all 7th years. It was usually the Head Boy and Girl who planned it, and they always went to the ball together by tradition.
He shook his head hard and paced around the room with his arms behind his back, the jacket strewn on the floor carelessly. His emotions boiled inside of him. He hadn't felt this strongly about anything in ages. Perhaps it was the reopening of his clandestine wounds, but he doubted it.
It was Hermione.
Her beauty and compassion had enveloped him and he couldn't force her from his mind. His father would have his head for what he'd done tonight. He wondered if she knew anything about what she had seen that night. Sure, he'd seen her about to kiss Pothead, big deal. She held the key to his very existence. Everything that he had ever done was out of anger at the Darkness impressed upon him since the day he was born. And she knew it. Hell, he didn't even know if he was ready for this immense change to the "good guys" and if he turned back now, she would know. Hermione would know his fears, the fears he worried would shove him back into Her Darkness. He had to talk to her, before something awful happened to both of them.
Hermione sat in her History of Magic class the next day hardly paying attention. Ron and Harry were exchanging confused glances. The troubles between Harry and Hermione had boiled down so that they could hold a simple conversation once again. But Hermione had been so oddly inattentive in class recently that the teachers had been cutting down on her work load, thinking they were "over stressing their star student." She was sitting somewhere near the back and scratching her quill across the parchment aimlessly, Ron and Harry on either side both trying to talk to her. It was Friday, which didn't help her attention span, and it had been two days since she'd even seen Draco. . .
". . . so the fabled 'She' controlled the Dark Realm throughout all the years Before Light and -"
Hermione's eyes shot to the front of the class. She. Her Darkness. "Professor!" she said. Ron and Harry nearly fell out their seats and Professor Bins looked as though he'd been killed, again. "What do can you tell me about Her Darkness?" If she couldn't find out from Draco, she'd find out from someone else.
Professor Bins continued looking at her almost in awe. "Certainly." He said with more enthusiasm then she had ever heard. He floated to her desk and suspended just 3 feet in front of her. "Well, this is all theory, of course. Nothing has ever been proved, seeing as every brave sole to venture over to the dark has been either swayed to join them or . . . killed." He paused, as if to let the class soak in the monotone of his voice. But Hermione was entranced.
"She was the first known power of the universe, long Before Light. This legendary 'mother' only existed because she had drowned out every ounce of light that existed before Her. No one knows how She came about, and, well, no one even knows what this universe was like before Her. She is still looked back to as the first master of darkness and is still worshipped by all followers of destruction. But if you say Her name, if you are not truly a follower of the Dark, you will become a ghost. That's why I can say it." He added with a satisfied smile and floated through a desk as he backed to the front of the class once more. He looked around carefully and said with relish: "Isidore Daeva. It cannot be written, or the very words will burn into freezing, green flames. A calling or signal of some sort, or so the story goes. So, obviously, you will not be tested on this material. If I catch any of you trying to write Her name, there will be severe consequences."
He picked up the book before him as if to return to his tedium of a lesson but said, "That will be all for today, class. You are dismissed." He gave out the night's assignments and the rest of the class filed out behind his ghostly trail. Ron nudged her in the arm.
"What's with this new interest in the Ancient Years, Herm?" He said through his long red hair. "That's the first thing you've said in. . .forever."
"Yeah. What's been up with you recently?" added a concerned Harry to her left.
"I've just been a little busy, that's all." She said, looking down at her paper and thinking to herself, no wonder I had never heard of Her before.
"'Mione, you know that's not true. The teachers have been giving you less work!" Ron retorted, but she kept her eyes downcast. She wasn't listening, both Harry and Ron could tell. Her intense curiosity took hold of her and she dipped her quill into her ink. Keeping her eyes locked on the paper, she wrote slowly:
Isidore Daeva
Both Ron and Harry stared intently down at the paper, mouths open slightly at Hermione's act. For a moment nothing happened, Hermione held her breath. She already knew what would happen . . . but she had to see it. Without warning, the paper flew from her hands into the air. Time seemed to stand still as quiet dissolution prevailed.
Suspended, it glowed in a deep green light. It fluttered in an unknown wind that was so cold their breaths were visible in the air around them. Hermione shivered and gazed up at the dancing paper, entranced as the light from the windows and candles faded away in a deep, reverberating rumble of thunder. The room itself seemed to shake. It was completely dark except for the sickeningly beautiful olive light above their heads. Unheard voices echoed across the room and Hermione felt Ron and Harry grasp for her hands. As the words shone and suddenly burst into flame, the room filled with an eerie silence except for the Ancient breath that replaced their own. The deep gasping words grew louder and louder as the flames dripped like liquid from the paper never hitting the frozen floor beneath it. The echoing voices became audible to them, and they were filled with fear at what they heard, repeated louder with each drop of flame:
Invidiosus abomino invideo
Osor procuro diffamo
Invidiosus abomino invideo
Osor procuro diffamo
The supernatural words came faster and faster until-
"Candidae!" Bellowed a voice from the swinging door. The eerie light disappeared and the room's colors flowed back into view. The sunlight poured in through the windows and the birds' calls returned to the terrified students ears. Hermione looked to the doorway and saw the familiar blonde hair glistening in the returning sun.
"Malfoy." said Ron, his voice shaking. You could hear the relief in his voice. But Draco kept his eyes locked on Hermione in a cold stare.
"Draco, I-" she stood and stumbled towards him, glancing at the floor: a shard of green-burned paper lay forgotten on the stone. "I didn't know. I thought-"
"Never mind, Granger." He added her name coolly, reminding her of who she was. "You must come see Dumbledore at once." He said pointing his wand at far wall where a small handle appeared. His emotion was unreadable through his glazed eyes.
"It was me. Don't make Hermione go." attempted Harry weakly. He added under his breath. "She shouldn't be alone with your type now. . ."
"Sorry, Potty. You're just not wanted at the moment. She, and only she, needs to come with me. Plus, it looks like your boy toy is a bit scared at the moment. You should calm him down some before trying to save your girlfriend." He walked over to the small handle and pulled it. The stone flowed to the side like cotton to reveal a dimly lit corridor.
Harry looked with slight annoyance at Ron who was shaking and much paler than usual. Draco left the room without looking back.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered to Ron and Harry before leaving. "I wasn't thinking." They gave her a small reassuring smile. If she hadn't done it, they would have. It was no one's fault. Hermione waved her wand over her books the way Draco had on her first day and then hurried out the doorway.
She closed the surprisingly heavy door slowly behind her and placed her forehead against the cool wall, resting her eyes and breathing unevenly. The shock of the previous events had hardly begun to wear off and she had to clear her head.
"That was a pretty stupid thing to do, Granger." Draco said behind her, causing her to jump. She turned quickly to find him leaning against the wall only a foot away from her. "The Boy Who Lived could have become the Boy Who Was Killed By His Ex-Girlfriend's Stupidity." He smirked.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." She leaned back against the wall and covered her face, sinking to the ground. "I didn't -"
"It's ok, 'Mione." He crouched down next to her. He thought for a moment before saying, "You're lucky I was there." He slid down beside her, leaning his back against the wall, smiling calmly at her.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, confused and tired.
"You called Her Darkness to you." He said quietly. Hermione was silent. "I stopped the spell before they could find out who you were. But they know where they were called to and . . ."
"That's bad, isn't it." She wasn't asking him.
"Nothing good can come of it," was his reply. "We need to get to Dumbledore."
"Okay." She said, inaudibly.
He picked up her hand and held it for a minute before turning it over so the palm was facing him. "Shit," he whispered.
"What?" Hermione looked at him confused and then to her palm. She gasped. On it was a small dark symbol, but it was too dim to see what it was of. Draco stood, pulling her up with him.
"We have to go," He said. "Now." Still holding her hand, he ran down the corridor, dragging her behind him.
Darkness took the hall before they could reach the end.
A/N: this was a very vulnerable chapter right here, ladies and gents. hope you like it!