Chapter 17: A new realisation.
OK, dudes! This might be the chapter you're all waiting for! The one where Hermione figures out that she's falling for Malfoy! Well, actually, it probably won't go to quite that extent. I'll have to see what happens. I'm trying to wake up old Mr. Muse so he can give me an idea or two.
Anyhow, reviews!
*~*ghypscee: thank you. It's really handy, believe me
*~*electra: isn't it interesting though?
*~*coolcat411: damn it! You're right! Take a look at what I say below these reviews ;)
*~*littoxkigga: hiya! I shall read your story as soon as I can. And yes . . . Hermione is far from a mushy blob.
*~*Serena: will do.
*~*SweetCheeksDracoLover: *is blown away from enthusiasm of review*. Why thank you very much. I'm updating . . . now, in fact :P
*~*bombshell: yeh I've noticed that. :P
*~*amy: aww thank you. Keep reading!
*~*Axisha: excellent. Hopefully you'll like this chapter then.
Oh, by the way everyone, my friend brought this to my attention so I figured I might as well mention it. I have a bit of a problem where I don't write the same thing as I'm thinking. You should see what happens in Maths. The number might be 100, and I'll be thinking of writing down 100, then I'll suddenly write 55. Did that on a test. Stuffed up the question completely. Not good. Anyhow, I do that too while writing. And in case you haven't noticed, I do not beta my chapters. I have figured you guys would like the updates ASAP, and I do that. So some of the phrasing will be a little bit off, yes, and I'm sorry about that. I'll make an effort to beta in future but I'm lazy.
Disclaimer: I own sore eyes and a watch.
Right, think that's all the chit-chat from me. Let's get down to it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione felt very lost by this whole affair. All she could really remember was Nikolas pointing a wand at her, her crying uncontrollably, and now, her being in a hospital bed. That's it.
Harry and Ron had come and put her there, but they couldn't stay for long, because they had Quidditch-related matters to attend to. Hermione assured them that she'd be fine, and they didn't exactly hurry off. She could tell they were deeply concerned about her.
Hell, SHE was deeply concerned about her.
She couldn't quite remember what had happened in the dream, but she knew that she was now definitely, and had been for a while, inflicting the injuries on herself in her dreams. She pulled her bedclothes higher up, so they covered the marks on her neck. Why was she doing this to herself now? Was it because of her mother? Clearly, because now her sleep-self, or whatever you'd want to call it, wanted to clock off emotional pain as much as possible, and was using physical pain to do it.
As for her awake self, well, Hermione was undoubtedly feeling the emotional pain. While in a deep trance, like when staring into the fire, or whatever, she had considered self harm to get rid of the emotional pain, but she could never bring herself to do it. She knew what a risk it was at. . .
So maybe while she was asleep, Hermione was channelling someone deep inside her, who was game enough to try and block out the pain by doing this. . .
And the awake Hermione was paying the price.
She would have continued thinking about it, had Malfoy not come into the room then.
'Hi,' she said.
'Hey,' he said, sounding oddly empathic. He took a seat beside her bed. 'How're you doing?'
'Not so bad,' Hermione lied, trying to sit up. Her bedcovers came away as she did this. Malfoy observed her carefully.
'You are a far cry from 'not so bad'', he said, looking at the cuts at her neck, which Hermione had not been able to heal. It took up energy she just didn't have.
'I've had worse then this before,' she said, trying not to make too big a deal out of it. Malfoy was obviously worried, and there was no point in making him more worried then he already was.
'Well, I'm worried about you. (No duh!) If these cuts get any worse Granger, you'll be staying here for a lot longer then a few hours. You could also do other things that might affect your internal organs. Considering how powerful you are, I wouldn't put it past you. . . or rather your unconscious self.' He said it all without really looking at her. He was looking at her arms, which were laid out, so he could see them.
'Those ones I managed to heal,' she said, way in front of him.
'I know you did,' he said. 'Do you have any other ones that you haven't healed?'
'Um . . . no.'
'Don't lie to me Granger?'
'What? I'm not!'
'Yes you are. Tell me where!'
'This really isn't any of your concern Malfoy.'
'The hell it isn't! I'm very concerned about you.'
'Why?' asked Hermione, startling Malfoy somewhat. 'Why are you so concerned about me? I don't know if even Harry and Ron are as concerned about me as you seem to be. Just tell me why.'
Malfoy chose not to reply straight away. He just turned away. That way Hermione wouldn't see the completely confused expression on his face. He then turned back and said. 'Well, evidently they aren't, because I am the one who woke you.'
'You . . . you what? No, that was Harry . . .'
'Oh, Potter tried. He couldn't.'
Hermione narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. 'You're pulling my leg.'
'Am not! What happened was, I came over to see what was wrong with you, and Harry was trying to wake you. He couldn't. Then I had a go . . . and it worked.
'Really? Well that's odd. What did you say?'
Malfoy blushed slightly then. 'I don't remember,' he said.
Hermione smiled subtly. 'Yes you do. You're blushing. You remember. What did you say?'
'I . . . I asked you to wake up. . .'
Hermione listened intently. 'Go on . . .'
'I . . . I then promised . . . promised that I'd look after you.' Malfoy said. He then made his way toward the door, saying 'I'll come see you a bit later,' and turned around.
'All right,' Hermione said quietly. 'They're on my stomach.'
Malfoy turned back and looked at her. 'How bad are they?'
Hermione took a while to respond. On the one hand, she didn't want to show signs of weakness. On the other, Malfoy had promised he'd look after her. . . couldn't hurt. . .
'They hurt,' she said. She rested herself on the bed. 'A lot.'
Malfoy walked slowly back towards her. She was trying hard not to cower. Malfoy had begun to make her nervous . . . very nervous.
He reached her bed and looked at her skeptically (no, this isn't a spelling error). 'Can I see?'
Hermione turned scarlet. It was an afternoon of blushing. 'Um . . . no. I'll leave that to the nurses.'
Malfoy stood before her. He was very tall, Hermione noticed. His grey eyes weren't boring into her, like they tended to when he was annoyed with her or trying to figure out something about her. This time they were merely concerned. He seemed to have been like that a lot recently. Ever since her mother died, really. It was almost intoxicating having him look at her like that. The looked down slightly, at her hands.
'I'll see you later then.' He said, face still slightly red. And with that, he left, hands deep in the pockets of his robes.
(Authors note: I've been watching this DVD where the guys on it have these ¾ length coats. It looks so cool! Pity it's a fact that the Hogwarts robes are full length, or I'd have 'em ¾, just like the dudes in this DVD)
Hermione stared up at the ceiling. A very nicely decorated ceiling it was, like most ceilings were designed back when the school was made. As Hermione looked up at it though, the ceiling was the last thing that interested her.
She ran her hand along her neck, feeling the cuts there. It wasn't a pleasant thing to feel. It stung slightly as she felt it. Perhaps that was the magic the caused the cuts.
She somehow switched from thinking about the cuts and what they meant, to what Malfoy had said about bringing her around from the sleep the Nikolas Lestrange had had her in.
He'd promised he'd look after her? What a bizarre thing to promise. That's the kind of thing a mother or father promises, or a friend one's had for many years, like Harry or Ron . . .
And yet, it seemed really good that Malfoy was promising this to her. It seemed more right. More right, perhaps, then it would have if Harry or Ron had promised it..
But why was it that neither Harry or Ron would wake her? Was it because Malfoy had promised to look after her . . .
Or was it because Malfoy was the one who said it?
But that's bizarre. Malfoy's no different from Harry or Ron . . . he's a Slytherin and a deceitful bastard, but that's it . . .
But then why is it that you feel so intimidated when Malfoy looked down at you just then. Because he's tall? Or maybe because of his eyes. Grey, like stones, but so much unlike stones when he truly cares about something . . .
Or maybe it's because you feel something different for Malfoy then what you do for anybody else?
But that's absurd! Why would I feel different for him then anyone else?
Because of how he makes you feel? Different, doesn't he? Warm, inside. How he treats you? Remember when you turned to him after your mother died, and he stayed with you? And just now . . . he was worried about you, and he promised he's look after you. And you only woke up because of him. Also, he makes you nervous.
(Another Authors Note, and I promise this is the last one for this chapter: My Maths teacher, for some unexplainable reason, makes me feel nervous. Possibly because of the time I was very upset about something and he realised I was upset before I fully realised I was. That creeped me out slightly. But I'm thinking Hermione feels this sort of nervousness, because Malfoy has a lot of empathy for her. See what I'm saying here?)
So? Heaps of people make me feel those things . . .
Hermione, you're falling for him.
No, no I'm not!
Oh stop being so strong and admit it! Ever since your mother died . . . before then, even! He warms you inside like no-one else can, and he cares for you like no-one else can, and you probably do the same to him. You're in love with him.
Hermione tossed and turned for the next hour, having these thoughts flowing around her head. On the one hand, how could she be? A studious, respected Gryffindor falling for bad-boy Slytherin. . . it didn't make logical sense. On the other hand, since when has love made sense? And anyway, he wasn't really a bad-boy Slytherin any more. He was someone else. Someone much sweeter, more caring . . .
Perhaps it wasn't so absurd after all.
The nurse then bustled into the room, carrying a bottle and a glass.
'I need you to take this potion,' the nurse said, pouring it out. 'It will repair any cuts you've got. It will still leave scars, but there's nothing we can do about that. Then I'll check you and you can go. OK?'
Hermione nodded silently, and drank the potion. Not the most pleasant taste, but at least it was bearable.
After Hermione drank it she looked at a mirror to the side of her bed, and noticed the cuts on her neck dramatically lessening, and the ones on her stomach were starting not to hurt any more.
Hermione grinned to herself, and after the nurse had checked her, she changed back into her robes and got out of the wing, relieved.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
So where did Nikolas Lestrange run off to? The answer is the Owlery, to write a very long and complex note to his mother. To summarise, it said:
I performed the curse on Miss Granger after reminding her forcefully of her mother. It worked like a charm. She fell asleep instantly and neither Potter nor his sidekick were able to wake her. Therefore no-one could wake her, because no-one cares for her more then those two. The damage she has done to herself is apparently not that bad, but that's fine. We want her to have a spectacular death after all, in the great battle.
Cheers
Nikolas tied the letter onto his trusty owl, an ebony black feathered creature, called Ebony, funnily enough, and watched him set off into the evening sky.
A man and a woman awaited the letter. The woman with slightly matted black hair and haunting, dark eyes. The man, a lot shorter then the woman, slightly plump, with thin straggly blonde hair plastered onto his head, watery blue eyes keenly watching the owl fly on to the woman's shoulder.
'Looks like my son has done it,' she said after reading it.
'Done what?'
'Could you be any more thick? He's found out the state of the Granger girl.'
'Oh, right! And what state is that?'
The woman rolled her eyes. She didn't know why her master had ordered this pathetic excuse for a miscreant to stay with her, but she wasn't pleased. 'She's weakening. Her mothers . . .' she coughed '. . . untimely death, seems to have shaken the girl somewhat. It won't be long now before we will be able to get rid of her.
The man nodded, understanding slightly. One small thing was bugging him though. 'But why are we trying to get rid of the Granger girl?' he asked. 'Isn't it Potter we're after?'
The woman threw up her hands in dismay. 'How many times do I have to tell you Pettigrew? The girl is powerful. Even though Potter is our main concern, getting rid of the girl would dramatically weaken his chances of winning this war. Everything has been going to plan. Her power enabled her to catch the disease, and it has become much worse ever since her mother passed on. She'll be reduced to something that is, if alive, helpless. How will Potter get around without those Brains of hers to help him?'
The man nodded slowly, but something told him that they probably shouldn't bank on that working. It seemed a tad too farfetched. However, he knew that the other people were smarter than him, so they probably knew best.
'When is the next attack?' he asked.
'Valentines Day, in the evening' . . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was Monday morning. Hermione got herself down to breakfast slightly late. She'd had an exhausting nights sleep. Harry and Ron made room for her as she sat down.
'Are you all right Hermione?' Harry ran a finger along her eyes, where there were slight bags. 'You look really tired.'
Hermine closed her eyes, smiling slightly. She was fantasising about falling asleep and not getting any dreams. Something she hadn't achieved since her mother died.
'I'll be OK,' she said. 'I think I should possibly ask the nurse staff for that potion of dreamless sleep.'
Harry and Ron looked at each other. 'Apparantly that isn't effective for Kedua's syndrome. Harry and I were considering getting you some for Christmas. We asked the nurses for some and they said 'If you're thinking about getting that for Miss Granger, don't bother. It doesn't work.'
'Rats,' she said, without having the energy to say that it was unfair or anything like that.
Both Harry and Ron looked at Hermione sadly. They both really wished they were able to help her. They were there for her, and she knew that (they kept reminding her), but there wasn't a lot they could do to actually improve her situation from where it was at the moment.
And the main thing that bothered them was that Malfoy seemed to be able to help her more then they could, and they had no idea why.
As the bell rang, Hermione realised that she actually had to learn today, thus meaning she'd have to drag herself to the Potions dungeon. She managed to heave herself off the Gryffindor bench and get herself to her bench in the Potions lab, before banging her head against the table and almost falling asleep. She was startled awake by someone banging a cauldron on the bench.
'Yikes!' she yelled, jumping up.
'Sorry Granger . . . did I wake you? I hate to be woken when it doesn't suit me.'
Hermione brushed her hair out of her eyes. 'Shut up,' she said.
Malfoy smiled at her. 'You missed a strand,' he said, removing it from its point of annoyance.
Remembering what she'd been thinking about on Saturday, she blushed, hopefully not terribly noticeably, and drew her chair in so she was sitting in an upright position.
Professor Snape entered the room and everyone else sat down. He walked over to his desk and looked up at them all.
'As you all know, the NEWTS are coming ever-closer, and there are still two or three important Potions that we haven't covered yet, due to my focusing on more practical for life use potions. So we'll be swinging back towards NEWTS until the exams take place. And today, we'll be working on a healing draught, which, when drunk, can heal outer injuries. Testing it is optional, but if you have any outer injuries, like bruises or cuts, then you could try taking this, and seeing what happens.'
Hermione looked at Malfoy grimly as the ingredients were wand-waved onto the board.
'Suppose I'll be the one we'll test it on,' she said. 'I got a few last night on my legs, and some bruises on my arms. That'll be enough.'
'I meant to ask,' said Malfoy, looking into his bag for some mirkwood. 'Bad night's sleep?'
'Yeah, it wasn't good. Better though, in terms of my illness.'
'Was something else preventing you from sleeping?'
'No,' Hermione lied. 'I just kept waking up. I was distracted and kept forgetting to do things. You now the feeling.'
'Yeah,' Malfoy said slowly. 'I get it all the time.'
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sorry people, this one's ending a bit weirdly. I'll continue it in the next chapter. I'm trying not to panic too much. I gotta work 3 nights in a row starting tomorrow . . . this worries me somewhat.
Anyroad! Give me a review, and be honest.
OK, dudes! This might be the chapter you're all waiting for! The one where Hermione figures out that she's falling for Malfoy! Well, actually, it probably won't go to quite that extent. I'll have to see what happens. I'm trying to wake up old Mr. Muse so he can give me an idea or two.
Anyhow, reviews!
*~*ghypscee: thank you. It's really handy, believe me
*~*electra: isn't it interesting though?
*~*coolcat411: damn it! You're right! Take a look at what I say below these reviews ;)
*~*littoxkigga: hiya! I shall read your story as soon as I can. And yes . . . Hermione is far from a mushy blob.
*~*Serena: will do.
*~*SweetCheeksDracoLover: *is blown away from enthusiasm of review*. Why thank you very much. I'm updating . . . now, in fact :P
*~*bombshell: yeh I've noticed that. :P
*~*amy: aww thank you. Keep reading!
*~*Axisha: excellent. Hopefully you'll like this chapter then.
Oh, by the way everyone, my friend brought this to my attention so I figured I might as well mention it. I have a bit of a problem where I don't write the same thing as I'm thinking. You should see what happens in Maths. The number might be 100, and I'll be thinking of writing down 100, then I'll suddenly write 55. Did that on a test. Stuffed up the question completely. Not good. Anyhow, I do that too while writing. And in case you haven't noticed, I do not beta my chapters. I have figured you guys would like the updates ASAP, and I do that. So some of the phrasing will be a little bit off, yes, and I'm sorry about that. I'll make an effort to beta in future but I'm lazy.
Disclaimer: I own sore eyes and a watch.
Right, think that's all the chit-chat from me. Let's get down to it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione felt very lost by this whole affair. All she could really remember was Nikolas pointing a wand at her, her crying uncontrollably, and now, her being in a hospital bed. That's it.
Harry and Ron had come and put her there, but they couldn't stay for long, because they had Quidditch-related matters to attend to. Hermione assured them that she'd be fine, and they didn't exactly hurry off. She could tell they were deeply concerned about her.
Hell, SHE was deeply concerned about her.
She couldn't quite remember what had happened in the dream, but she knew that she was now definitely, and had been for a while, inflicting the injuries on herself in her dreams. She pulled her bedclothes higher up, so they covered the marks on her neck. Why was she doing this to herself now? Was it because of her mother? Clearly, because now her sleep-self, or whatever you'd want to call it, wanted to clock off emotional pain as much as possible, and was using physical pain to do it.
As for her awake self, well, Hermione was undoubtedly feeling the emotional pain. While in a deep trance, like when staring into the fire, or whatever, she had considered self harm to get rid of the emotional pain, but she could never bring herself to do it. She knew what a risk it was at. . .
So maybe while she was asleep, Hermione was channelling someone deep inside her, who was game enough to try and block out the pain by doing this. . .
And the awake Hermione was paying the price.
She would have continued thinking about it, had Malfoy not come into the room then.
'Hi,' she said.
'Hey,' he said, sounding oddly empathic. He took a seat beside her bed. 'How're you doing?'
'Not so bad,' Hermione lied, trying to sit up. Her bedcovers came away as she did this. Malfoy observed her carefully.
'You are a far cry from 'not so bad'', he said, looking at the cuts at her neck, which Hermione had not been able to heal. It took up energy she just didn't have.
'I've had worse then this before,' she said, trying not to make too big a deal out of it. Malfoy was obviously worried, and there was no point in making him more worried then he already was.
'Well, I'm worried about you. (No duh!) If these cuts get any worse Granger, you'll be staying here for a lot longer then a few hours. You could also do other things that might affect your internal organs. Considering how powerful you are, I wouldn't put it past you. . . or rather your unconscious self.' He said it all without really looking at her. He was looking at her arms, which were laid out, so he could see them.
'Those ones I managed to heal,' she said, way in front of him.
'I know you did,' he said. 'Do you have any other ones that you haven't healed?'
'Um . . . no.'
'Don't lie to me Granger?'
'What? I'm not!'
'Yes you are. Tell me where!'
'This really isn't any of your concern Malfoy.'
'The hell it isn't! I'm very concerned about you.'
'Why?' asked Hermione, startling Malfoy somewhat. 'Why are you so concerned about me? I don't know if even Harry and Ron are as concerned about me as you seem to be. Just tell me why.'
Malfoy chose not to reply straight away. He just turned away. That way Hermione wouldn't see the completely confused expression on his face. He then turned back and said. 'Well, evidently they aren't, because I am the one who woke you.'
'You . . . you what? No, that was Harry . . .'
'Oh, Potter tried. He couldn't.'
Hermione narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. 'You're pulling my leg.'
'Am not! What happened was, I came over to see what was wrong with you, and Harry was trying to wake you. He couldn't. Then I had a go . . . and it worked.
'Really? Well that's odd. What did you say?'
Malfoy blushed slightly then. 'I don't remember,' he said.
Hermione smiled subtly. 'Yes you do. You're blushing. You remember. What did you say?'
'I . . . I asked you to wake up. . .'
Hermione listened intently. 'Go on . . .'
'I . . . I then promised . . . promised that I'd look after you.' Malfoy said. He then made his way toward the door, saying 'I'll come see you a bit later,' and turned around.
'All right,' Hermione said quietly. 'They're on my stomach.'
Malfoy turned back and looked at her. 'How bad are they?'
Hermione took a while to respond. On the one hand, she didn't want to show signs of weakness. On the other, Malfoy had promised he'd look after her. . . couldn't hurt. . .
'They hurt,' she said. She rested herself on the bed. 'A lot.'
Malfoy walked slowly back towards her. She was trying hard not to cower. Malfoy had begun to make her nervous . . . very nervous.
He reached her bed and looked at her skeptically (no, this isn't a spelling error). 'Can I see?'
Hermione turned scarlet. It was an afternoon of blushing. 'Um . . . no. I'll leave that to the nurses.'
Malfoy stood before her. He was very tall, Hermione noticed. His grey eyes weren't boring into her, like they tended to when he was annoyed with her or trying to figure out something about her. This time they were merely concerned. He seemed to have been like that a lot recently. Ever since her mother died, really. It was almost intoxicating having him look at her like that. The looked down slightly, at her hands.
'I'll see you later then.' He said, face still slightly red. And with that, he left, hands deep in the pockets of his robes.
(Authors note: I've been watching this DVD where the guys on it have these ¾ length coats. It looks so cool! Pity it's a fact that the Hogwarts robes are full length, or I'd have 'em ¾, just like the dudes in this DVD)
Hermione stared up at the ceiling. A very nicely decorated ceiling it was, like most ceilings were designed back when the school was made. As Hermione looked up at it though, the ceiling was the last thing that interested her.
She ran her hand along her neck, feeling the cuts there. It wasn't a pleasant thing to feel. It stung slightly as she felt it. Perhaps that was the magic the caused the cuts.
She somehow switched from thinking about the cuts and what they meant, to what Malfoy had said about bringing her around from the sleep the Nikolas Lestrange had had her in.
He'd promised he'd look after her? What a bizarre thing to promise. That's the kind of thing a mother or father promises, or a friend one's had for many years, like Harry or Ron . . .
And yet, it seemed really good that Malfoy was promising this to her. It seemed more right. More right, perhaps, then it would have if Harry or Ron had promised it..
But why was it that neither Harry or Ron would wake her? Was it because Malfoy had promised to look after her . . .
Or was it because Malfoy was the one who said it?
But that's bizarre. Malfoy's no different from Harry or Ron . . . he's a Slytherin and a deceitful bastard, but that's it . . .
But then why is it that you feel so intimidated when Malfoy looked down at you just then. Because he's tall? Or maybe because of his eyes. Grey, like stones, but so much unlike stones when he truly cares about something . . .
Or maybe it's because you feel something different for Malfoy then what you do for anybody else?
But that's absurd! Why would I feel different for him then anyone else?
Because of how he makes you feel? Different, doesn't he? Warm, inside. How he treats you? Remember when you turned to him after your mother died, and he stayed with you? And just now . . . he was worried about you, and he promised he's look after you. And you only woke up because of him. Also, he makes you nervous.
(Another Authors Note, and I promise this is the last one for this chapter: My Maths teacher, for some unexplainable reason, makes me feel nervous. Possibly because of the time I was very upset about something and he realised I was upset before I fully realised I was. That creeped me out slightly. But I'm thinking Hermione feels this sort of nervousness, because Malfoy has a lot of empathy for her. See what I'm saying here?)
So? Heaps of people make me feel those things . . .
Hermione, you're falling for him.
No, no I'm not!
Oh stop being so strong and admit it! Ever since your mother died . . . before then, even! He warms you inside like no-one else can, and he cares for you like no-one else can, and you probably do the same to him. You're in love with him.
Hermione tossed and turned for the next hour, having these thoughts flowing around her head. On the one hand, how could she be? A studious, respected Gryffindor falling for bad-boy Slytherin. . . it didn't make logical sense. On the other hand, since when has love made sense? And anyway, he wasn't really a bad-boy Slytherin any more. He was someone else. Someone much sweeter, more caring . . .
Perhaps it wasn't so absurd after all.
The nurse then bustled into the room, carrying a bottle and a glass.
'I need you to take this potion,' the nurse said, pouring it out. 'It will repair any cuts you've got. It will still leave scars, but there's nothing we can do about that. Then I'll check you and you can go. OK?'
Hermione nodded silently, and drank the potion. Not the most pleasant taste, but at least it was bearable.
After Hermione drank it she looked at a mirror to the side of her bed, and noticed the cuts on her neck dramatically lessening, and the ones on her stomach were starting not to hurt any more.
Hermione grinned to herself, and after the nurse had checked her, she changed back into her robes and got out of the wing, relieved.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
So where did Nikolas Lestrange run off to? The answer is the Owlery, to write a very long and complex note to his mother. To summarise, it said:
I performed the curse on Miss Granger after reminding her forcefully of her mother. It worked like a charm. She fell asleep instantly and neither Potter nor his sidekick were able to wake her. Therefore no-one could wake her, because no-one cares for her more then those two. The damage she has done to herself is apparently not that bad, but that's fine. We want her to have a spectacular death after all, in the great battle.
Cheers
Nikolas tied the letter onto his trusty owl, an ebony black feathered creature, called Ebony, funnily enough, and watched him set off into the evening sky.
A man and a woman awaited the letter. The woman with slightly matted black hair and haunting, dark eyes. The man, a lot shorter then the woman, slightly plump, with thin straggly blonde hair plastered onto his head, watery blue eyes keenly watching the owl fly on to the woman's shoulder.
'Looks like my son has done it,' she said after reading it.
'Done what?'
'Could you be any more thick? He's found out the state of the Granger girl.'
'Oh, right! And what state is that?'
The woman rolled her eyes. She didn't know why her master had ordered this pathetic excuse for a miscreant to stay with her, but she wasn't pleased. 'She's weakening. Her mothers . . .' she coughed '. . . untimely death, seems to have shaken the girl somewhat. It won't be long now before we will be able to get rid of her.
The man nodded, understanding slightly. One small thing was bugging him though. 'But why are we trying to get rid of the Granger girl?' he asked. 'Isn't it Potter we're after?'
The woman threw up her hands in dismay. 'How many times do I have to tell you Pettigrew? The girl is powerful. Even though Potter is our main concern, getting rid of the girl would dramatically weaken his chances of winning this war. Everything has been going to plan. Her power enabled her to catch the disease, and it has become much worse ever since her mother passed on. She'll be reduced to something that is, if alive, helpless. How will Potter get around without those Brains of hers to help him?'
The man nodded slowly, but something told him that they probably shouldn't bank on that working. It seemed a tad too farfetched. However, he knew that the other people were smarter than him, so they probably knew best.
'When is the next attack?' he asked.
'Valentines Day, in the evening' . . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was Monday morning. Hermione got herself down to breakfast slightly late. She'd had an exhausting nights sleep. Harry and Ron made room for her as she sat down.
'Are you all right Hermione?' Harry ran a finger along her eyes, where there were slight bags. 'You look really tired.'
Hermine closed her eyes, smiling slightly. She was fantasising about falling asleep and not getting any dreams. Something she hadn't achieved since her mother died.
'I'll be OK,' she said. 'I think I should possibly ask the nurse staff for that potion of dreamless sleep.'
Harry and Ron looked at each other. 'Apparantly that isn't effective for Kedua's syndrome. Harry and I were considering getting you some for Christmas. We asked the nurses for some and they said 'If you're thinking about getting that for Miss Granger, don't bother. It doesn't work.'
'Rats,' she said, without having the energy to say that it was unfair or anything like that.
Both Harry and Ron looked at Hermione sadly. They both really wished they were able to help her. They were there for her, and she knew that (they kept reminding her), but there wasn't a lot they could do to actually improve her situation from where it was at the moment.
And the main thing that bothered them was that Malfoy seemed to be able to help her more then they could, and they had no idea why.
As the bell rang, Hermione realised that she actually had to learn today, thus meaning she'd have to drag herself to the Potions dungeon. She managed to heave herself off the Gryffindor bench and get herself to her bench in the Potions lab, before banging her head against the table and almost falling asleep. She was startled awake by someone banging a cauldron on the bench.
'Yikes!' she yelled, jumping up.
'Sorry Granger . . . did I wake you? I hate to be woken when it doesn't suit me.'
Hermione brushed her hair out of her eyes. 'Shut up,' she said.
Malfoy smiled at her. 'You missed a strand,' he said, removing it from its point of annoyance.
Remembering what she'd been thinking about on Saturday, she blushed, hopefully not terribly noticeably, and drew her chair in so she was sitting in an upright position.
Professor Snape entered the room and everyone else sat down. He walked over to his desk and looked up at them all.
'As you all know, the NEWTS are coming ever-closer, and there are still two or three important Potions that we haven't covered yet, due to my focusing on more practical for life use potions. So we'll be swinging back towards NEWTS until the exams take place. And today, we'll be working on a healing draught, which, when drunk, can heal outer injuries. Testing it is optional, but if you have any outer injuries, like bruises or cuts, then you could try taking this, and seeing what happens.'
Hermione looked at Malfoy grimly as the ingredients were wand-waved onto the board.
'Suppose I'll be the one we'll test it on,' she said. 'I got a few last night on my legs, and some bruises on my arms. That'll be enough.'
'I meant to ask,' said Malfoy, looking into his bag for some mirkwood. 'Bad night's sleep?'
'Yeah, it wasn't good. Better though, in terms of my illness.'
'Was something else preventing you from sleeping?'
'No,' Hermione lied. 'I just kept waking up. I was distracted and kept forgetting to do things. You now the feeling.'
'Yeah,' Malfoy said slowly. 'I get it all the time.'
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Sorry people, this one's ending a bit weirdly. I'll continue it in the next chapter. I'm trying not to panic too much. I gotta work 3 nights in a row starting tomorrow . . . this worries me somewhat.
Anyroad! Give me a review, and be honest.