Chapter Four – Sickness and Slytherins
October was soon upon the castle, however, along with new month and its icy winds also came a sickness that swept through the school. Soon many of the students and staff were struck with it. Ginny was hit hardest, along with Snape, Madam Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. Yet no-one could figure out where the sickness had come from or who had sent it, as it was certainly not a natural fever. Worse still, as it couldn't be recognised, it couldn't be cured.
Hermione, Harry and Ron all remained perfectly healthy, yet Ron wore a constant look of worry over Ginny's wellbeing; she was pale, shaking and appeared to have serious hallucinations. Many classes had been cancelled and the trio found themselves with much more free time, which they spent in the warmth of the library.
"I can't believe so many classes have been cancelled; and with the N.E.W.T.s so soon as well."
"Hermione, the exams aren't until June; we'll have plenty of time to catch up with the things we've missed. Those who are ill will be well again soon enough" Harry said, trying his best to finish a particularly nasty three foot essay on the changes the Halfling invasion had provoked in the 15th Century.
"Not to be the voice of pessimism but I don't think they will be well soon; I think this illness has been sent for a purpose."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled, at exactly the same time Ron spoke;
"Of course they'll get better; it's just a cold."
"I mean I think this illness ahs been sent to do permanent damage to certain people; but I don't know how or why."
"Then find out." Ron hissed frantically, his voice full of panic.
Hermione simply nodded and began looking through the book sin the library, including the restricted section which she, as head Girl, had access to. Her slim fingers paused over a large volume entitled; Mystical Maladies and Confounding Conditions.
"This will do." She said to no-one in particular.
Returning with the book to her seat she began pouring over it.
An hour and a half later she was not even a quarter through it. Harry and Ron were restless;
"How long are you going to be Hermione?" Ron whined.
"As long as it takes to find out what's made Ginny so ill." Hermione replied, her eyes never leaving the page.
The boys shrugged and began looking through books themselves.
Another three hours past when Hermione suddenly let out a rather loud and proud "Ah-ha!" whilst stabbing her finger on the page.
"I think I've found it. All the symptoms match and there's a cure."
Harry and Ron both looked up;
"Well, what is it?"
"It's called Mote de Fatigue. It's a French curse which literally translates as "tired to death". The recipient of the curse will become increasingly tired over time, their essence draining until they die from exhaustion, even though they haven't been doing anything exertive.
"So what's the cure." Harry asked.
"It's a compilicated potion. The procces you need to make it is all given here but it will take four weeks."
"Four weeks!" Ron exclaimed. "will Ginny have that long?"
"She will have four weeks at the most." Hemrione answered simply. "If we begin work on this now then we will get it finished in time. I promise."
"Then we had better get to work." Harry said simply.
"No." Hermione said, a note of finality in her voice. "I can't have either of you working on this. Neither of you take Advanced Potions; I need someone who does. It's too complex for a non-experienced person to attempt."
"By experienced you mean Malfoy don't you." Harry spat. "You just want another chance to flirt with him."
"Will you please squash your testosterone fuelled impulses for thirty seconds. Draco is an excellent potions brewer; better than me even, and he's the best option to save Ginny."
"Oh so it's "Draco" now is it. When did you start on first names terms?" Harry answered hotly, turning away from Hermione and walking out of the library.
Ron put a hand on Hermione's shoulder;
"He'll come 'round eventually." He assured her, and Hermione gave him a weak smile.
"I'm going to see Dumbledore about this potion." She replied, "I'll see you later though."
-------------------------------------------
Hermione made her way to the Headmaster's rooms and gave the password (Pink Mice). Upon entering she saw that Dumbledore was not alone; a platinum blonde sat opposite him. Hermione inwardly groaned, yet at the same time she felt her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her throat.
"Ah, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said, "I was expecting to see you sooner or later. I must say I am rather glad you opted for sooner. I assume you have come about this terrible sickness."
"Yes sir. I think I've figured out what it is and an antidote."
"Excellent. I myself had theories about what it was...Mote de Fatigue?"
"Yes sir." Hermione said, her eyes flitting to Draco who sat intently listening.
"As I suspected it was. Well, you must begin to brew the antidote immediately. However I am curious as to who little Ginny has made such an enemy out of."
"Sir? You wish me to brew it?"
"Certainly. Along with Mr Malfoy here. You are the two most successful potion brewers here."
"Oh no sir, I thought you could brew it. I don't think I have the skill." Hermione said, secretly pleased he had said she could brew it.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, "have you not wondered why I have not been struck by this mysterious illness?"
This stopped Hermione in her tracks; it had not crossed her mind.
"Well sir," she confessed, "it didn't really occur to me. However, now you mention it I am curious as to why you remain unaffected; you are the most powerful wizard. Would it not make sense for you to be struck too?"
"Look at who has been affected Miss Granger; Ginny, who has made the enemy, Madam Sprout who grows many potion remedies, Professor Snape who can make any potion known to wizards, and Madam Pomfrey; the best medi-witch outside of St. Mungos. I myself am a most terrible potion brewer, as are many other members of staff. Therefore the person who sent this curse has not bothered themselves about us."
"Won't me and Draco be hit if we begin the potion to cure everyone?" Hermione asked nervously.
"That is why Mr Malfoy is here. He too had his suspicions about what the curse was and about the remedy. He has agreed to work with you on the cure. However, in order to protect you he will have to place a protection circle around you both."
"But hasn't Hogwarts got one of those? The curse got through that."
"Indeed Hogwarts does have a circle of protection around it. But it is a light circle, made using light magic. The one Mr Malfoy proposes is of a more...sinister nature. I am wary to allow such things within the school but under the circumstances I fell it is appropriate...if you consent."
Hermione thought for only a second;
"I agree to it." She answered; "but only for Ginny's sake."
"Very well." Dumbledore smiled. "Mr Malfoy, the floor is yours."
Draco stood solemnly and raised his wand to the heavens, beckoning Hermione to stand opposite him. She did so.
The winds rose in the grand office and Draco's eyes filled with fire as he felt the ancient magic of long ago fill every cell to the very core of his body. It was dark and powerful. The fire inside him burned hot and black yet he controlled it. Slowly he took Hermione's hand, whispering under his breath the words he had long ago been taught.
Hermione listened intently to what Draco was muttering. It was in another tongue; one from before the first noted history of wizards. In native English it ran along the lines of;
"Father Darkness and Mother Mysterious, Sheath me in your cloak, Take me in from open enemy, And hold me in your keep."
A flash of dark lightening across their bound hands and the spell was complete.
----------------------------
Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower to find only Harry there, working silently on a transfiguration essay.
"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, Ron went to see Ginny with Molly and Arthur; they arrived a while ago. I met them but excused myself. I thought they should have some time alone; as a family."
"That's sweet of you Harry."
Harry shrugged, grinning. He was secretly happy that Hermione found him sweet and had not fallen out with him over his earlier outburst. Although he doubted she would think that if she found out he'd threatened to curse all the other students if they didn't leave him alone in the common room; he didn't want an audience for what he was about to do.
Hermione watched as Harry moved from his seat and stood before her, taking the hand that Draco had been holding only minutes before.
"Hermione, I...I need to ask you something."
Hermione felt her stomach flip-flop, and she fought hard to keep from screaming out loud.
"I like you." Harry said, his voce shaking, "And I think you like me. Would you like too...you know?"
Feeling mean, Hermione played innocent, as though she didn't know what he was trying to say;
"Would I like to what Harry? If this is about your essay, I'm not helping you."
"Woulyouliketogooutwithme?" Harry blurted out.
"What?"
"Would you like to go out with me?"
"Oh Harry, I'd love to." Hermione grinned.
Harry suddenly felt the urge to shout from the astronomy tower. But he didn't. Instead he settled himself with taking Hermione in his arms and kissing her passionately.
----------------------------
Work on the potion began the next day. The ingredients were acquired and Draco and Hermione were granted use of Snape's private potion brewing quarters, as they offered the best potion preparing conditions.
Draco found it odd how easily he could speak to Hermione; she was wonderful company and he loved being able to pick her brains about aspects of the Wizarding world that half of the dim-witted pureblood Slytherins wouldn't have heard of. He often found him watching her as she carefully added ingredients and stirred the potion. Her wilful hair always escaped whatever restraint she placed upon it, and he noted time and time again how she constantly brushed it from her eyes.
"Draco, can you pass me the powdered boomslang skin please?" Hermione asked, mentally counting the 45th of the 50 clockwise stirs she had to administer.
Draco handed her the ingredient, whilst at the same time measuring out exactly 25 drops of Gillyweed juice.
"Thanks." Hermione smiled, stirring the last stir and adding the skin at exactly the same time. "OK, now the Gillyweed juice, then we need to put it on a low heat for half an hour before adding the dragon scale, then we can't touch it for three days."
"I did read the instructions Granger." Draco spat, getting increasingly irritated in the hot room. "Can we not turn the heat down in here?"
"No." Hermione answered simply.
"But it's going on a low heat anyway. If we turn the heat down in here instead it won't affect it."
"Yes it will; it has to be in a hot room on a low heat."
"Well that makes no bloody sense at all." Draco whinged, giving up and flopping into one of the chairs.
Hermione shook her head in amusement before adding the Gillyweed juice, setting a timer and sitting down in a chair opposite him.
"Aw, are you upset because you're sweating and it might ruin your hair and cold heart?"
"Shut up! Malfoy's don't sweat; they glisten. And who says I don't have a heart?"
Hermione was at a loss for words but couldn't control the smile that threatened to break onto her lips.
"It's not that you don't have heart it's just that you never show it."
"I thought I'd shown it to you." Draco heard himself say.
The pair fell into silence, simply staring at each other.
Without even knowing he was doing it, Draco moved from his chair over to Hermione. He leaned in towards her, but didn't kiss her. His eyes met hers and he held them. Hermione felt she should tell Draco something; something about her that had happened to day. Something important that made this wrong. But she couldn't remember what it was.
Hermione could feel his magic upon her; it wasn't magic taught in schools, it was much older than that. It was the first, most primitive form of magic known, and it was enchanting her.
Draco moved in closer to her, Hermione closed her eyes, waiting...
DING! The timer sang its song and the pair jumped out of the trance, returning to work. The spell forgotten.
October was soon upon the castle, however, along with new month and its icy winds also came a sickness that swept through the school. Soon many of the students and staff were struck with it. Ginny was hit hardest, along with Snape, Madam Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. Yet no-one could figure out where the sickness had come from or who had sent it, as it was certainly not a natural fever. Worse still, as it couldn't be recognised, it couldn't be cured.
Hermione, Harry and Ron all remained perfectly healthy, yet Ron wore a constant look of worry over Ginny's wellbeing; she was pale, shaking and appeared to have serious hallucinations. Many classes had been cancelled and the trio found themselves with much more free time, which they spent in the warmth of the library.
"I can't believe so many classes have been cancelled; and with the N.E.W.T.s so soon as well."
"Hermione, the exams aren't until June; we'll have plenty of time to catch up with the things we've missed. Those who are ill will be well again soon enough" Harry said, trying his best to finish a particularly nasty three foot essay on the changes the Halfling invasion had provoked in the 15th Century.
"Not to be the voice of pessimism but I don't think they will be well soon; I think this illness has been sent for a purpose."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled, at exactly the same time Ron spoke;
"Of course they'll get better; it's just a cold."
"I mean I think this illness ahs been sent to do permanent damage to certain people; but I don't know how or why."
"Then find out." Ron hissed frantically, his voice full of panic.
Hermione simply nodded and began looking through the book sin the library, including the restricted section which she, as head Girl, had access to. Her slim fingers paused over a large volume entitled; Mystical Maladies and Confounding Conditions.
"This will do." She said to no-one in particular.
Returning with the book to her seat she began pouring over it.
An hour and a half later she was not even a quarter through it. Harry and Ron were restless;
"How long are you going to be Hermione?" Ron whined.
"As long as it takes to find out what's made Ginny so ill." Hermione replied, her eyes never leaving the page.
The boys shrugged and began looking through books themselves.
Another three hours past when Hermione suddenly let out a rather loud and proud "Ah-ha!" whilst stabbing her finger on the page.
"I think I've found it. All the symptoms match and there's a cure."
Harry and Ron both looked up;
"Well, what is it?"
"It's called Mote de Fatigue. It's a French curse which literally translates as "tired to death". The recipient of the curse will become increasingly tired over time, their essence draining until they die from exhaustion, even though they haven't been doing anything exertive.
"So what's the cure." Harry asked.
"It's a compilicated potion. The procces you need to make it is all given here but it will take four weeks."
"Four weeks!" Ron exclaimed. "will Ginny have that long?"
"She will have four weeks at the most." Hemrione answered simply. "If we begin work on this now then we will get it finished in time. I promise."
"Then we had better get to work." Harry said simply.
"No." Hermione said, a note of finality in her voice. "I can't have either of you working on this. Neither of you take Advanced Potions; I need someone who does. It's too complex for a non-experienced person to attempt."
"By experienced you mean Malfoy don't you." Harry spat. "You just want another chance to flirt with him."
"Will you please squash your testosterone fuelled impulses for thirty seconds. Draco is an excellent potions brewer; better than me even, and he's the best option to save Ginny."
"Oh so it's "Draco" now is it. When did you start on first names terms?" Harry answered hotly, turning away from Hermione and walking out of the library.
Ron put a hand on Hermione's shoulder;
"He'll come 'round eventually." He assured her, and Hermione gave him a weak smile.
"I'm going to see Dumbledore about this potion." She replied, "I'll see you later though."
-------------------------------------------
Hermione made her way to the Headmaster's rooms and gave the password (Pink Mice). Upon entering she saw that Dumbledore was not alone; a platinum blonde sat opposite him. Hermione inwardly groaned, yet at the same time she felt her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her throat.
"Ah, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said, "I was expecting to see you sooner or later. I must say I am rather glad you opted for sooner. I assume you have come about this terrible sickness."
"Yes sir. I think I've figured out what it is and an antidote."
"Excellent. I myself had theories about what it was...Mote de Fatigue?"
"Yes sir." Hermione said, her eyes flitting to Draco who sat intently listening.
"As I suspected it was. Well, you must begin to brew the antidote immediately. However I am curious as to who little Ginny has made such an enemy out of."
"Sir? You wish me to brew it?"
"Certainly. Along with Mr Malfoy here. You are the two most successful potion brewers here."
"Oh no sir, I thought you could brew it. I don't think I have the skill." Hermione said, secretly pleased he had said she could brew it.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, "have you not wondered why I have not been struck by this mysterious illness?"
This stopped Hermione in her tracks; it had not crossed her mind.
"Well sir," she confessed, "it didn't really occur to me. However, now you mention it I am curious as to why you remain unaffected; you are the most powerful wizard. Would it not make sense for you to be struck too?"
"Look at who has been affected Miss Granger; Ginny, who has made the enemy, Madam Sprout who grows many potion remedies, Professor Snape who can make any potion known to wizards, and Madam Pomfrey; the best medi-witch outside of St. Mungos. I myself am a most terrible potion brewer, as are many other members of staff. Therefore the person who sent this curse has not bothered themselves about us."
"Won't me and Draco be hit if we begin the potion to cure everyone?" Hermione asked nervously.
"That is why Mr Malfoy is here. He too had his suspicions about what the curse was and about the remedy. He has agreed to work with you on the cure. However, in order to protect you he will have to place a protection circle around you both."
"But hasn't Hogwarts got one of those? The curse got through that."
"Indeed Hogwarts does have a circle of protection around it. But it is a light circle, made using light magic. The one Mr Malfoy proposes is of a more...sinister nature. I am wary to allow such things within the school but under the circumstances I fell it is appropriate...if you consent."
Hermione thought for only a second;
"I agree to it." She answered; "but only for Ginny's sake."
"Very well." Dumbledore smiled. "Mr Malfoy, the floor is yours."
Draco stood solemnly and raised his wand to the heavens, beckoning Hermione to stand opposite him. She did so.
The winds rose in the grand office and Draco's eyes filled with fire as he felt the ancient magic of long ago fill every cell to the very core of his body. It was dark and powerful. The fire inside him burned hot and black yet he controlled it. Slowly he took Hermione's hand, whispering under his breath the words he had long ago been taught.
Hermione listened intently to what Draco was muttering. It was in another tongue; one from before the first noted history of wizards. In native English it ran along the lines of;
"Father Darkness and Mother Mysterious, Sheath me in your cloak, Take me in from open enemy, And hold me in your keep."
A flash of dark lightening across their bound hands and the spell was complete.
----------------------------
Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower to find only Harry there, working silently on a transfiguration essay.
"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, Ron went to see Ginny with Molly and Arthur; they arrived a while ago. I met them but excused myself. I thought they should have some time alone; as a family."
"That's sweet of you Harry."
Harry shrugged, grinning. He was secretly happy that Hermione found him sweet and had not fallen out with him over his earlier outburst. Although he doubted she would think that if she found out he'd threatened to curse all the other students if they didn't leave him alone in the common room; he didn't want an audience for what he was about to do.
Hermione watched as Harry moved from his seat and stood before her, taking the hand that Draco had been holding only minutes before.
"Hermione, I...I need to ask you something."
Hermione felt her stomach flip-flop, and she fought hard to keep from screaming out loud.
"I like you." Harry said, his voce shaking, "And I think you like me. Would you like too...you know?"
Feeling mean, Hermione played innocent, as though she didn't know what he was trying to say;
"Would I like to what Harry? If this is about your essay, I'm not helping you."
"Woulyouliketogooutwithme?" Harry blurted out.
"What?"
"Would you like to go out with me?"
"Oh Harry, I'd love to." Hermione grinned.
Harry suddenly felt the urge to shout from the astronomy tower. But he didn't. Instead he settled himself with taking Hermione in his arms and kissing her passionately.
----------------------------
Work on the potion began the next day. The ingredients were acquired and Draco and Hermione were granted use of Snape's private potion brewing quarters, as they offered the best potion preparing conditions.
Draco found it odd how easily he could speak to Hermione; she was wonderful company and he loved being able to pick her brains about aspects of the Wizarding world that half of the dim-witted pureblood Slytherins wouldn't have heard of. He often found him watching her as she carefully added ingredients and stirred the potion. Her wilful hair always escaped whatever restraint she placed upon it, and he noted time and time again how she constantly brushed it from her eyes.
"Draco, can you pass me the powdered boomslang skin please?" Hermione asked, mentally counting the 45th of the 50 clockwise stirs she had to administer.
Draco handed her the ingredient, whilst at the same time measuring out exactly 25 drops of Gillyweed juice.
"Thanks." Hermione smiled, stirring the last stir and adding the skin at exactly the same time. "OK, now the Gillyweed juice, then we need to put it on a low heat for half an hour before adding the dragon scale, then we can't touch it for three days."
"I did read the instructions Granger." Draco spat, getting increasingly irritated in the hot room. "Can we not turn the heat down in here?"
"No." Hermione answered simply.
"But it's going on a low heat anyway. If we turn the heat down in here instead it won't affect it."
"Yes it will; it has to be in a hot room on a low heat."
"Well that makes no bloody sense at all." Draco whinged, giving up and flopping into one of the chairs.
Hermione shook her head in amusement before adding the Gillyweed juice, setting a timer and sitting down in a chair opposite him.
"Aw, are you upset because you're sweating and it might ruin your hair and cold heart?"
"Shut up! Malfoy's don't sweat; they glisten. And who says I don't have a heart?"
Hermione was at a loss for words but couldn't control the smile that threatened to break onto her lips.
"It's not that you don't have heart it's just that you never show it."
"I thought I'd shown it to you." Draco heard himself say.
The pair fell into silence, simply staring at each other.
Without even knowing he was doing it, Draco moved from his chair over to Hermione. He leaned in towards her, but didn't kiss her. His eyes met hers and he held them. Hermione felt she should tell Draco something; something about her that had happened to day. Something important that made this wrong. But she couldn't remember what it was.
Hermione could feel his magic upon her; it wasn't magic taught in schools, it was much older than that. It was the first, most primitive form of magic known, and it was enchanting her.
Draco moved in closer to her, Hermione closed her eyes, waiting...
DING! The timer sang its song and the pair jumped out of the trance, returning to work. The spell forgotten.