Chapter 4

August

(A/N:: Once again not mine…not a single damn thing…)

            She was safe.  Cocooned in a deep well of ebon-colored cotton, protecting her, warming her, keeping the dreams away.  She liked it there.  Little by little however, her refuge was getting torn down.  First bright light flooded the room, biting at the darkness.  Then voices echoed through her head, not the voices of agony that usually yelled at her, but a female voice, smug and unconcerned about volume.  Somehow My managed to stay deep within the darkness, safe in the cotton of sleep.  The safety didn't last long after that, soon she was forcefully expelled from her slumber by a scream right to her ear and a sharp kick to the cot she slept on.

"My you lazy idiot.  GET UP!!"  Mandy's haughty voice sliced through the comfortable sleep and pulled Hermione entirely into the waking world.  Sitting up she saw Mandy standing in front of her with a letter and an evil expression.  Behind her the VCR clock displayed the unholy hour of 12:07 PM.  She had gotten four hours of sleep from a potion designed to create sixteen hours of perfect dreamless sleep.  "You got mail.  I just hope one of them is about your share in Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Ryan's will.  Otherwise where would you ever live after we kick you out at the end of August?"  Mandy seemed in the mood to maim and wound.  For better or worse however, there was nothing Mandy could say that would hurt My's soul.  It was already broken.

            Mandy threw down the letter and flounced off to her room, to pass idle gossip or to sneak a few drinks.  My didn't care.  She picked up the letter and didn't recognize the sender, it had come through muggle mail, and it didn't look like junk mail.  She had no idea who it might have been from.  Biting her lip she considered the name of the sender, and the address.  She thought, despite her wish to forget about magic, Hogwarts and school, she loved and craved a challenge.  She left school three days after the events in the cavern; three days that she spent in a forced dreamless slumber.  A full month before school officially ended, and as she ran from the school in the dead of night, she didn't get the usual comprehensive assignments that her brain was used to getting.  One part of her brain missed the academic rigor, while the other part knew that she would not have been able to handle the assignments anyway.  All her mind could handle was the dance and the music.  Now she was stronger, her barriers were; while no longer as strong after Waterfall, thick enough to protect her from the dangers that came with opening that part of Hermione Granger, the analytical, logical and driven girl that wouldn't stop for anything. 

            She concentrated on the sender, and thought, allowing the sealed lid over her school memories and analytical thinking skills.  Then it hit her and with shaking hands she tore the envelope open exactly along the seams, making sure not to rip what she now knew was in it.  Two heavy pieces of parchment fell from her nerveless fingers.  Carefully she examined the first one, and felt her breathe hitch as McGonagoll's tidy handwriting filled the page.

Ms. Granger:

            Forgive me of the subterfuge; I didn't think it wise to allow the owl-post ready access to your current dwelling.  Albus and I didn't want any unknown parties to discover your whereabouts before you are ready to return to us.  No matter.  However, there is an important decision that as your head of house I must inform you of. 

            In light of your current situation, you have been rejected for the post of Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Although I have been grooming you for the position personally since you demonstrated such potential throughout your years at this school.  The choice of student heads has to be approved by the council of governors and it was not.  After your application was rejected and another candidate was put forward and accepted immediately, Albus and I found that Fudge bribed and courted the governors to reject you.  The miserable bastard.

My stopped reading in astonishment.  Her favorite professor called the Minister of Magic a bastard.  The letter was open and less formal than anything the professor had ever shown her.  It was a letter written to an equal, not a student.  And to call the headmaster Albus?  My felt her headache grow worse.  She continued reading.

-- Beyond school politics, enclosed with my letter is a letter from the headmaster one to you and a missive to your odious cousins.  This should have been your Hogwarts letter, however, sending it would be pointless.  We have already contacted a third party to purchase you necessary books and supplies.  With that I look forward to seeing you on September 1st.  I hope that this final year proves to be a good one for you, perhaps even good enough to banish the shadow that you have carried for so long.  I trust you and I will speak again so with that I'll see you in a month.

Your Truly,

Minerva McGonagall

Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House.

My set the letter down and tried to process the information.  Not Head Girl.   Somehow that didn't bother her as much as she though it would.  The Hermione that desperately wanted the post was gone, faded under a reign of fire, vanished under layers of solitude and loud music.

            My reread the letter again.   Someone was going to purchase her school belongings?  Why couldn't she do it?  They were forcing her to return, she couldn't even have the pleasure of buying her own supplies?  She felt a wave of irritation at the Headmaster's heavy hand in her life, and then images rose from her mind and slapped her across the face.  Hard.

Long flowing cloaks

Laughter

Smells

People

She knew Dumbledore was right; she wasn't ready to face Diagon Alley.  Muggle New York was all she could handle, all that she wanted.  Now slightly curious, My reached down and grabbed the other parchment that was in the envelope.

            With shaking hands she opened another envelope, this time a muggle/wizard hybrid.  Taking a deep breath she read the note to her cousins.  A polite missive thanks the girls for their hospitality and kindness towards a family member in time of need.  A note that was obviously meant to inspire guilt in an average human being.  Her cousins, shallow and self absorbed, wouldn't even hear the reproach in the letter over the cries of delight they would make after seeing the check made to Courtney Prichard and Family, to the lump sum of six thousand dollars.   Dumbledore was obviously trying to make her last month as easy as possible.  Wherever he got that much muggle money, My would never know.  Dropping the note on the living room table she settled on the couch to read the final letter that would destroy the peace she created this summer.  After closing her eyes and counting to ten My opened her eyes and tidy script filled her eyes.

Ms Granger,

            I fear that your time of solitude and healing has come to an end.  Once again Hogwarts opens in another month and you must return.  While you could have taken and gotten honors on your NEWTs at the end of last year, the ministry is requiring that you complete your education. 

I know that you must have many questions about this summer and about the events of last spring, I just hope that I am able to provide you with the answers that you desire.  I hope that my knowledge will stand up under the challenge of your rigorous intellect. 

The galleon enclosed here is in fact a port key that will transport you directly to the quidditch pitch on September 1st.  From there your stuff will be taken to your room, and you can be escorted to my office, or you can simply find your way there. 

Until we have had a chance to talk I wish you to continue your self-imposed solitude.  After questions are answered we must discuss your control and what to do about practical lessons.

Once more I digress, at 11:00 am on the first, the port key will glow red.  Place you hand on it and the other on your belongings and you will return to your home.

Albus

My looked at the letter with confusion and anger warring for priority.  Who did Dumbledore think he was?  She had been alone for seven months.  No parents, no guardians, no friends, no one to order her around.  Yes, before she had to deal with teachers, but they trusted her.  Trusted the perfect prefect to do as she pleased.  After that night, well after that night she disappeared.  This edict from the Headmaster was more than a mere summons.  It was personal, almost paternal, and to be signed with his given name?  Her mind swirled uncomfortably, trying to solve the enigma that was her headmaster.  Finally the struggle got to close to the barriers she placed over that night, it was a little too much.  Tossing the port key into the back of the closet, My stalked off towards the bathroom, the hot and steamy water would distract her mind.

            Once safely in the bathroom, she touched the knob and smiled as the bubbles cleaned and the relaxing scent of rosemary peppermint filled the air.  Dropping her rumpled cloths to the floor, she grabbed a bottle of bubble bath and headed over to the whirlpool tub.  Filling the tub with scalding water, she leaned back as the biting water relaxed screaming muscles, and the aromatic scent soothed her overwrought mind.  Leaning back, absorbing the heat, My dreamed of happy days of clear blue and emerald eyes, while always in the background, a pair of silver ones warding away the sadness and the misery that the blue and green couldn't comprehend. 

            My woke to cool water and irritable cries and loud pounding on the door.

"My?  What the hell are you doing?  Its 4:30 and there are three other people that need this bathroom."  Courtney's shout through the door woke My up fully.  Leaving her awake enough to notice the cold and filmy water and waterlogged skin.  It was soft and moisturized, despite the length in the water, My still felt disgusting.  Bloated and pale, a lizard queen coming to claim her throne. 

            My stood on shaky legs, the bath and sleep had helped to rebuild the barriers that were destroyed last night, but she felt fragile.  Wrapping a warm towel around her slight frame My drained the water and watched as it swirled down the drain into oblivion.  She unconsciously sneered as the water flowed away, her life, following in the footsteps of dirty bathwater.  Pulling on her clothes, My threw open the bathroom dor to reveal Mandy licking a trail down the neck of Court's fiancé as he fondled her breast.  It sickened her to live near her repulsive cousin; so like Pansy from school, and this new man that appeared to have moved in, and had no discernable taste.  Human were disgusting, driven by hormones and pheromones.  Love was unmentionable, a forgotten dream, when easy lust was an easier substitute.

            Feeling unbalanced and lonely, this was the first time she had separated herself from human kind, now it was only a matter of time before it happened.  My felt a twinge in the back of her mind as she began to go through the familiar routine of going out.  For once however, there was something on her mind that could force the voices away.  Twin beams of silver light kept away the darkness.  She longed to go out.  For once however, it wasn't to let the music drown out the screams, or to force memory loss.  In stead she was consumed with the thought of seeing him, an old school English gentleman that could equal her dance ability.  She missed the feeling of his arms around her, the wonderful feeling of emptiness being filled.  Somehow after a few meetings, she missed him.  Somehow Hermione Granger the most promising witch in fifty years had fallen head over heels for a pale-skinned blonde man whose arrogance was uncomfortable in its familiarity, while the way he made her feel inside made her melt.  Although she knew it was strange, she barely knew him and in a month she was leaving, but nonetheless she loved the dancing haughty prick.  Deep inside buried under Gryffindor training and a muggle heritage, a Slytherin side, a Malfoy side whispered you love him even though he is a muggle.

            As she thought, her body operated on auto-pilot.  The acts of getting ready to dance were second nature by now.  The perfect pair of pants, the right shirt and a comfortable and sexy pair of shoes all found their way to her body.  The makeup adorned her skin in a practiced fashion and her hair seemed to know that it was in its own interest to simply fall flat down her back in a straight sheet.  Despite the ease in which her ritual took place, it still took hours.  It seemed that she became one of those girls that take hours to go out, one of the girls she swore she would never be.  Its funny how war and misery could so totally change a person, but Hermione was living proof that war did unexpected things.  It wasn't just pure vanity however, that kept her for so long.  Every few moments a cousin would drop in to the bathroom and talk in excruciating detail about how wonderful the new boyfriend was, and the girls, as self absorbed as they were demanded complete and total concentration and devotion to what they were busy spewing.  Finally they left her alone, and she was able to finish getting ready so that she could leave.

            Walking out of the apartment, My looked at the three people sprawled on the couch with thinly disguised disgust.  As she pulled the door shut she spoke softly to the people that gave her shelter,

"My headmaster sent you a message this morning, along with a check.  I'll be back later."

Entering the stairwell she could smell the unsavory odor of stale sweat, urine, vomit, and oddly enough raw rotten fish.  Gagging, My considered apperating down and away for the offending smell, but she knew she couldn't.  Knew that the concentration required not to splinch wasn't available to her.  She expended most of her energy on keeping her barriers up in the silence of the stairwell.  Sixteen floor later, My escaped from the smell heading out into the lobby.  Looking around, My muttered a vanity spell to her self, instantly any lingering scent was eliminated leaving the whispers of sandalwood and myrrh.  Stepping out in front of her building, My hailed a cab and directed towards Bacchus, the time for dancing had come.

***

            Bacchus was full to capacity.  The music loud and trippy, an audio acid dream of swirls, colors and wonders.  The new imported Euro-techno blared from every corner of the club.  The were all kinds tonight, hard core ravers, trying to find a new style, the people just looking for a good time, and the preppy patron, so desperate to be cool, dancing awkwardly to the unfamiliar music. 

My didn't notice. 

Didn't notice or care about the other people, the looks that she was getting.  She was with him.  Dancing with Drake, the world had fled from them, and they lived together in the music.  Thirty minutes after she had arrived at Bacchus she felt an arm slip around her waist and a whispered "Always" in her neck.  And the dance continued, only it was better, together, complete.

***

So it continued.  Every night My woke up in time to go out and meet Drake.  Sometimes she would go by her self, sometimes Mandy or Court would come.  Mostly it was just her, until he came, and then it was them, and they danced and danced.  Each night they met, danced, and in their own damaged way, loved.  Each night My passed out with exhaustion, only to wake-up with an ache in her heart where he belonged and the giddy thrill knowing that she was going out to see him, to dance away the horrors of the world.  It wasn't always perfect.  Sometimes things were to distracting to disappear into the music.  Sometimes the squeals of other dancers would spook her.  The clubs that had red décor, or sported flames were avoided like they were death incarnate, and to My they were.  But despite the problems, My was out every night dancing, and Drake was by her side.

            August passed quickly.  The dances were the best part of it, they helped her to cope, and they brought her Drake.

Drake.

Drake, the man the Hermione was growing to love even more every day.  Without him she was empty, a shell.  Near him, she felt like fighting against the voices, felt like she might just deserve a chance at being happy.  Now she would have to leave.  Leave her place of exile, where she may have found happiness.  Go back to the place that caused her exile, knowing that they would never let her leave again.  She was an enigma, something strange. 

Becoming something different.

***

            They were together.  Their hearts beating along with the bass of the set that just ended.  It was August 31.  They were at Pulse dancing together in the club that joined them in the first place.  Knowing what happened tomorrow, and knowing she had to tell him left her weak.  Drake had become her strength.  Without him she didn't know if she could survive. Didn't know what was going to happen when she had to leave him.  If she even could leave him.  As the next song came on, thoughts ran through her head.  Memories of this last month and the feelings that he evoked in her that she didn't know she even possessed, what was she supposed to do without dance?  Without him?

            Drake knew something was different.  She was off.  Her mind seemed to be lost in a personal world, a world that didn't look happy.    It was something he had never seen before.  He had come to know her in the last month, he knew her body and her rhythm, and sometimes he knew what she was going to do before she did it.  He was used to her being totally focused.  As though the music was everything, the dance was everything.  Tonight however, it was as if she was far away, trapped inside her mind, where not even the music couldn't reach her. 

"My?" He called, trying to be heard over the music, breaking the code of silence they silently established in the beginning.  Dancing was sacred, and they did it silently, separate but so very together.  His voice, low and warm, broke through her thoughts.  She looked up at his serious expression and willed her body to stop moving.  Taking her hand he lead her off the floor and possessively escorted her to a table in the corner.  "My are you alright?"  The worry he felt banished the control he held on his accent, the Americanisms he picked up over the summer dropped away.  "I feel like you aren't here with me."  Drake internally winced at how he sounded.  A petulant boy whinging about a broken toy.  He wanted all of her, her here with him.  If she gave him the slightest encouragement he would ignore the summons to Platform 9 3/4 and his final year of school.  He would give up magic and his father's empire for this wounded woman that fitted him so well.

            My's eyes filled with tears at his concern.  He looked like a lost little boy.  Lost without her.  No one had ever needed her before.  Well, no one that ever bothered to learn about her in return.  But Drake did, Drake even knew when she wasn't fully concentrating on the music.  And she wasn't.  Tomorrow at eleven she returned to Hogwarts; to England, to the one man that might be able to keep her human, to the place she spent the last three months trying to forget.

"Drake."  Her voice was soft as she reached up and ran her fingers through his fine hair.  "I return to school tomorrow.  In England."  The haunted memories England held for her reflected in her pupils.  The horror there was so blatant, Draco sharply inhaled.  Such horrors for a person so young.  Not even he, the only child of Lucius Malfoy had seen horrors like the memories that reflected so deeply in her eyes.  Rage like nothing her ever felt before spread through his body.  He hated her school, hated all who knew her and didn't protect her.  Hated what ever haunted her, what tore through her sanity, nipped at her heels in the dark.

"What?"  He sounded so confused.  He doesn't know anything about me. My thought to her self, He sounds as though he would be lost without.  But he doesn't even know me.  He doesn't even comprehend what I have done, what will I become.

"I have to return to school tomorrow.  I am leaving the states."  Drake placed his hand on her cheek and looked into her amber eyes, almost willing her to stay.

"Will I ever see you again?"  My shook her head sadly.

"I don't know Drake.  I don't know."

            Drake breathed deeply.  All of his father's business affairs were in order.  He had to return to England himself, to catch the train.  His house elves had already purchased his belongings, and had them shipped to the school.  Moving his hand from her cheek, he took her ting hand in his larger one.  Leading her agin, he walked back towards the dance floor.

"We still have tonight."

            The two people danced.  Everything slowed, and the crowd faded away once more.  This was their last dance, last chance to form one being, to totally meld into one spirit.  Their bodies fused and moved, one vessel of love, protection and hurt, struggling to stay above the line of despair.  The couple danced as beautifully as ever, still hearing only the music, feeling only each other.  A dark cloud hung over them though.  The club regulars that were lucky enough to have seen them before felt and saw the difference.  The dance was desperate, it was goodbye.  It was an eternal expression of star-crossed lovers.  They just kept dancing out their private heartbreak until last call occurred and the music ended.  For the watchers, it didn't feel resolved, it felt hollow, a hiatus before the true climax.

            My turned and looked up into Drake's silver eyes and tried to force him into seeing how much this month, and how much he meant to her.  She hadn't been this sane since May, and she owed it all to him.

            Drake memorized her face, each line and freckle, the way her lashes fluttered, and the pinkness of parted lips.  He knew that he loved her.  Knew that he took her from the path of a death eater.  How could a Malfoy love a muggle?  To him it didn't matter.  For her, and because of her dance, he had become a better person.   Drake felt a loss knowing that she would never know.  She would never see the impact that she had on his life.  How much he loved her.

            As though hypnotized, they drew closer.  A gentle hand down a cheek, a thumb along the jaw line.  My looked up and stood up on her toes, pulling his head closer she kissed him softly.  Gently.  Lips caressed lips, the beating of her heart, its own music.  Just as he began to respond, she broke free and ran.  A moment longer and wouldn't have left at all.  So she ran, not even feeling sparkling salty diamonds trailing down her cheeks.  Drake watched her go.  Fingers touching his burning lips.  He could taste the sweetness of her lipgloss.  He watched her leave, and a tear fell down his cheek unnoticed.  The fates were silent as Draco Malfoy watched his only hope run away.  Run out of his life.

Forever.

AN::: Here is the fourth chapter, I hope that it lives up to the expectations that so many of you have kindly informed me of.  Getting your reviews was a wonderful experience that only added to writing process.  I must admit I had no idea how people would respond to this story, and I am glad that the people that read it and enjoyed it.  I hope they will continue to do so. 

Thank You Reviewers.

Cat