Chapter Seventeen: Of Mudbloods and Purebloods: Never Looking Back


Ah! Been a while but I finally got it done! Seriously, seriously hope you like this chapter cuz I worked really, really, really, hard on it! Oh, the whole electricity thing lol I knew that would come up…I was too lazy to elaborate, but let's call this AU okay? lol Hope this chap makes up for the last one cuz they were SO close!

Thanks crazy much to all my reviewers and yay! I still can't believe people are reading my work lol! Read and Enjoy!

You look me in the face
Across that line
And say why didn't you tell me?
I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking

"Couldn't sleep then?"

"No, I couldn't."

"Neither could I."

"Do you like it?'

Draco nodded without taking his eyes off the gleaming weapon that he held within his hands.

The sword glittered under the broken morning light that shone through the light mist that had materialized rather suddenly. Running his index finger along the length of the blade, he reached very end of it and his finger met a blunt point.

"It hasn't been sharpened" he said upon inspection.

The king chuckled.

"This is the Sword of Mercy. One of the three Swords of Justice" he explained patiently.

The Slytherin boy's gray eyes widened. Professor Binns had mentioned these in one of his lessons before. The Swords had been crafted by one of the most powerful yet corrupted wizards ever known in the history of the magical world. It was said that he'd gone insane after being defeated by the great Algernon Dumbledore. It'd been rumored throughout the magical world that he'd been working endlessly on a secret weapon of mass destruction. They'd only been partially correct; or rather, one third. It hadn't been a weapon of mass destruction. It'd been three to be precise. There was the Sword of Spiritual Justice, the Sword of Temporal Justice and the one that he was holding. The sword of Mercy. The blade had been truncated and the end which should have held a sharp point was blunt.

King Titan continued. "It is believed that this sword is to be used with mercy and not intent of revenge. Although it has never been used it battle. As it proves quite useless as you can see. Mainly used for coronation ceremonies and such."

Draco didn't respond. He knew the truth. That was true what the king was just said. But that was the Muggle use of it. The swords had been seized and locked up by the reigning wizarding family at the time because of the catastrophic happenings that the swords created when wielded by powerful emotions. Only a rare handful of people had control over the sword. It was truly a magnificent thing. Terrible, yet magnificent.

Bringing the edge dangerously near his face, he tightened his grip around the blade but found it drew no blood.

How ironic. Draco Malfoy, ruthless bastard extraordinaire; him of all people, at that moment was holding the Sword of Mercy.

"How did it come to be in your possession?" asked Draco curiously. It wasn't common for anyone, especially a muggle, to have ownership of any of the swords.

"I'm not sure" He replied looking thoughtful. "I don't have much use for it though. Would you like it?"

The boy stared up at him. His gray eyes wider than they'd ever been before in his life.

"Wow. I would. Thank you, your majesty." Draco gasped, dipping into a bow. He rarely ever showed respect to muggles, but this was a great exception. The King had just given him the one of the three Swords of Justice.

The portly man chuckled again.

"Think nothing of it my boy. I must be going now. Do take care of it won't you?"

He nodded eagerly. "I will, I promise. Thank you, again."

With a nod, the king turned and headed down the cobblestone path back to the castle leaving Draco standing all alone in his state of deep admiration along side the motionless lake waters.

.:.

A particularly dense clutter of fog hovered above the crystal waters. It would have been impossible to peer into the depths of the lake that morning. The weather lacked sun, rain and wind all at once. The atmosphere held a light, warming, yet at the same time a chilling air. It wasn't warm enough to be humid, but neither was it cold enough to be raining.

It was certainly a strange morning.

A blurry figure stood unmoving bare meters before her. What was he doing at her special place? No one was supposed to be up this early.

Tentatively, Hermione ventured forward.

She hadn't been able to sleep at all that night. Nothing seemed to be able to clear her mind. So she decided to take a walk down by what she claimed to be her lake.

A soft crunching sound broke the silence that seemed to envelope the world.

"Mudblood."

Hermione stepped through the mist and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing here?" he asked frigidly while sheathing the sword.

"It's a free country, Malfoy" she replied, staring inquisitively at the weapon he held in his hands. When she brought her eyes up from the silver weapon, she found him staring unblinkingly at her. Defiantly, she stared back.

It was fire against ice, and yet, the ice refused to melt.

They stood staring at one another as a tension steadily built up around them. Soon it was thicker than the mist that encircled them.

"Let me show you something" Hermione said softy, severing the tension and stepping towards him.

He watched mystified and unmoving as she took the sword from his hands and then slowly unsheathed it.

Carelessly, she dropped the sheath that clattered soundlessly onto the grass and pointed the sword at his heart.

His mouth opened and a semblance of fear crossed him.

She was going to kill him.

He was going to die.

And at the hand of Mudblood wielding the Sword of Mercy. Could the irony possibly be anymore apparent?

"The Sword of Mercy." Her voice whispered into the air, and then she released a hand from the sword and held it out before him. Still looking him straight in the eyes, never breaking contact, she ran the sword swiftly across her wrist.

He gasped inwardly but his exterior remained indifferent. The skin seemed unharmed for a brief second, then a trickle of ruby red liquid seeped out and streaked in a straight line down her wrist then across her palm and finally dropping off at the space between her middle and ring finger. Draco stared at the self-infliction speechlessly, then back up to her burning, amber orbs.

She seemed to pierce him in the soul with her eyes.

"It doesn't look like mud to me."

With that, she dropped his blood-stained sword with a loud clatter against the sheath and started towards the castle leaving behind an astounded, wordless Draco Valerian Malfoy gaping after her.

.:.

My favorite colour is probably….light slate blue (weird isn't it?) and olive.

My favorite food is….kippers and sauerkraut

(I know it's odd but delicious! I always request it for breakfast. Try it sometime!)

My favorite sweet is definitely levitating sherbet balls and sometimes

Bernie Botts Every Flavored beans (when I don't come across a nasty flavored one!)

(Okay, so maybe I do like the spinach flavored one…)

My favorite team is the Falmouth Falcon. (Broadmour is the best!)

My favorite song….is….I don't really know. Anything loud and dark I suppose.

Did you know Evanescence wasn't a Muggle Band? They're not too bad.

I write with my left hand, but I eat with my right. So I suppose I'm ambidextrous!

(Most Purebloods are supposedly left handed.)

And last but not least, my birthday is November 11.

Sorry is I've disappointed you; I'm not all that interesting am I? Well, excluding my presently green hair.

At least it matches my house colour! Bloody thing hasn't faded the least bit.

Your turn to answer the questions now! You know, it may sound odd, but I feel like I know you.

At this, Ginny flinched. Must be more inconspicuous next time!

Despite the obvious fact that I don't of course. That was silly, but you do remind me of someone. Anyway, tell me more about yourself!

Write back soon, I'll be waiting!

- The not so secret, Blaise

Ps. Thanks heaps for the sweets! How did you know they were my favorite before I even told you?!

Ginny exhaled deeply and collapsed backwards limply upon her bed. Holding the bright orange air memo closely to her chest, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander freely.

It'd seemed a lifetime since she'd last spoken to the dashing dark-haired Slytherin. After almost a week of being terribly mortified by her hot-tempered brother's performance, she'd finally decided to approach him.

The little red- or rather green haired girl stood at the corner of the stairwell, waiting anxiously for the apple of her eye to emerge from his advanced arithmacy classroom. Her mind screamed at her to go! Get it over with the moment he stepped out. But her body said otherwise. It suddenly tensed up the moment she'd heard the door click open, and her knees were suddenly buckling beneath her. Helplessly, she collapsed as her legs gave way. But before she could reach the ground, she felt a pair of arms from behind catch her.

"Up you go, Weasley" sang the familiar voice. Tightly gripped onto the former of the banister, she maneuvered her useless feeling body around to face her rescuer.

"Blaise!" she squeaked looking up at the jade-haired boy.

Merlin! Why did she always have to squeak his name? Would it kill her blasted voice to sound normal for once?!

"One and only" he smiled readjusting his book bag. "Who else has such devastatingly handsome green hair?"

Ginny giggled nervously and held on tighter. "Even when Malfoy's not around he rubs off on you!" Blaise flashed her a grin and loosely ran a hand through his vivid, grass green hair.

"His presence never does fade."

The thought of Malfoy saddened her as it reminded her of Hermione. They were best friends. For Ginny Weasley, a best friend came around every once in a blue moon. She needed Hermione. Friends were hard to come by when you weren't exactly rich, pretty or well-known. The mere thought of losing her forever made her hurt within.

A weak smile etched itself onto her freckled face as she leaned herself against the railing. "So, where did you just come from?" she asked conversationally.

"Advanced arithmacy" he replied.

"Isn't advanced arithmacy in that classroom?" Ginny pointed a finger towards the emptied classroom before them.

"Nope, that's arithmacy enriched." He replied. "Believe me, I don't know the different either." He added seeing the look on her face. "So what are doing all the way here? Didn't you just have potions?"

She nodded embarrassedly and her face involuntarily filled with excess blood.

Merlin I look like a Christmas tree now!

"Oh! I know! You were waiting for me! How sweet" he kidded.

Ginny opened her mouth to protest despite the face that his guess was quite accurate.

""I'm just playing, Weasley. So how'd you do on your potions assignment today?" Blaise asked.

Oh if only he knew how right he was.

Why are boys always so oblivious?

Must be a Y-chromosome thing. I have yet to see a female that's as ignorant as a male.

For Merlin's sake even PANSY got it before him. And Pansy's as close to a male intelligence-wise as you can yet!

Boys are stupid…

But cute… wonderful...unexplainably attractive and appealing…

The list goes on for a mile and yet there's still not a proper explanation as to why we yearn for them….

Blasted universe!

"I scraped an acceptable" she said timidly.

"Better than last time! This calls for a celebration!" Quickly, he plunged into his bag and fished out a package of sweets. Ginny recognized them immediately. After all, she had been the one to send it to him, but he wasn't to know that.

Feeling somewhat less timorous, she reached into the package and pulled out a pastel orange coloured ball.

"Thank you," she said popping the sweet down. "You always seem to have sweets, where do you get them from?" she asked curious as to what his answer would be.

"Um, a friend. I don't think you know her." He told her, quickly stuffing the candy into his mouth.

"Her, eh? Special someone?" she teased.

"Er, sort of."

Ahhhh!! THAT'S ME!

ME

M.E

ME

Kind of…

"Who is sh-AH!" Ginny gave a yelp as she began to levitate up from the ground and hover.

Of course! Levitating Sherbet balls! Damn things!

Note to self, get him muggle MINTS next time!

"I don't like levitating" she mumbled.

"Don't you play chaser for the Gryffindor team?" Blaise questioned as his sherbet ball kicked in.

"Yes….but this is different! Flying with a broom is safer! When this darn thing wears off I'll fall!" she said nervously, wary of the fact that she was hovering dangerously close to him.

Please, Please, PLEASE don't let me crash into him

Merlin I'm already suffering as it is!

"It's not that far off the ground."

"Yes it is!" she insisted, looking down uncomfortably at the burgundy stretch of carpeting beneath her.

Why, why, why?!

Now she'd look like a complete fool when she fell flat on her face! It never failed to happen before; the main reason she never bought levitating sherbet balls anymore. Always her! She was the ONLY person she knew who would fall gracelessly to the floor after the charm wore off.

With a small pop, Blaise dropped and landed gracefully upright onto the ground.

"Hey! Why did yours wear off so quickly?" Ginny inquired, somewhat annoyed at his flawless grace.

He grinned up at her. "Mine was smaller."

"How long doe this even last? My next class is in 10 minutes! I have to go-OHH!"

Uh Oh

With a similar pop, Ginny found herself falling yet again. History seemed to repeat itself in a similar fashion. Blaise caught her safe and sound just before she could hit the ground. She cringed slightly as she landed in his arms. What if she was too heavy? Gods that would be humiliating.

"You alright, Weasley?" he asked sounding concerned.

Of course she was alright! As a matter of fact, she was far beyond alright! Who wouldn't be?! She was lying in Blaise Zabini's arms! For the second time in one day! Oh how sweet life could be….when it wasn't busy being such a bitch.

She could've stayed cradled in his arms forever. Unfortunately, forever lasted about 19 seconds. Just then, a whole herd of black, which just happened to be the Slytherins, flooded down the stairs.

"Down you go, Weasley" he said, glancing up at his incoming housemates. "See you tomorrow."

Ginny winced as he dropped her rather abruptly. Lucking, she'd landed on her feet.

"Bye" she waved to his retreating figure, standing in the same spot for moments to come, watching him dissolve into the sea of black and beyond.

He hadn't looked back.

"Grindylow!"

The former red-head jerked up from her recollections and back to the present.

"Natalie!" she cried startled. Why did she always sneak up on her.

The cheery blonde grinned and flopped down beside her.

"I knew you reminded me of something. Green hair and all" she chuckled.

Ginny blushed. Her usual reaction to- well, everything!

"Ohhh" Natalie snatched the memo from Ginny's hands. "Still writing to each other, eh? This is so romantic!" she gushed, fluttering her purplish glittered eyelids. "It's like…a fairytale!...In a way."

Ginny snorted. "Messed up one at that. Once upon a time, a little green haired Gryffindor girl wrote air memos to an incredibly handsome Slytherin prince who was probably from a dark wizarding family . They didn't fall in love, and they didn't live happily ever after because he was way out of her league. The end."

Rolling her eyes, Natalie gave her friend a jab in the ribs.

"Don't be so pessimistic!"

"Hard not to be when your whole life's been a bit of a disappointment" she muttered.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ginny" said Natalie pulling the younger girl into an embrace. "I promise to do everything in my power to get you and Blaise together!"

Ginny sighed and rested her chin atop the girl's shoulder, hugging her back,

"Nat, the day Blaise and I get together, is the day Hermione and Malfoy snog."

The two girls burst out in a raging fit of giggles.

"Hermione and Malfoy….ha! What next? McGonagall and Snape?!"

.:.

"If we shadows have offended,

Think but this,—and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend;

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends."

The stout little man bowed deeply, signifying the ending of the play. All was silent as they awaited for the king to lead. A tall, bearded, lanky man stood nervously in the corner staring intently at the king waiting for a reaction. It seemed as if time had stopped for the entire room as the king rose from his throne, seemingly in a slow motion. Everyone watched anxiously for his judgment. Even if they themselves had enjoyed the play, they could not express their true feelings of it until the king had declared his. A slow, steady clapping filled the room, slicing through the thick tension that had built up.

"Bravo! Wonderful, absolutely wonderful!" King Titan commended heartily.

The hall erupted in a thunderous applause after him. Even Draco, the supposed infamous muggle hater couldn't contain his awe throughout the course of the play. His eyes and mind became enthralled a bare 12 minutes into the play. He'd vowed to himself not to pay the slightest attention to the performance, but once Puck had appeared, his vows were wiped clean from his mind. He absolutely loved Puck! The mischievous little fairy. Were his doings accidental or secretly intentional? Bloody brilliant play in Draco's opinion, although he would never admit it of course. Cheering, he applauded enthusiastically along with everyone else. Amazing how muggles did this with out magic. The only thing that bothered him about the play was the ending. Demetrius hadn't really fallen in love with Helena in the end. It was all the potion's doing. Technically it was a happy ending, and the storyline was absolutely fantastic, but being a Malfoy, he found imperfections in everything.

The cast, all looking thoroughly relieved flooded down to center stage with the playwright as the main focus. They all took their bows in unison with nervous smiles upon their faces. Jovially, the King swept up the playwright and shook his hand.

"Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!" he acclaimed smiling genuinely.

Shakespeare was utterly stunned by the King's reaction. A good review from the King meant everything. It was the highest praise possible. The man was thrilled. With this, he would never go hungry again. People would overflow the theatres to see his plays! From this day forth, everyone would know the name: William Shakespeare.

His name would go down in history.

.:.

The princess watched stoically from her throne as her father ambled up to the playwright whose work would be passed on for centuries to come.

"Th-thank you, your majesty" he stuttered, shaking with excitement and apprehension.

A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was her favorite Shakespeare play of all time and she got to see it live. An original, first time play that no one had seen in the past lord knows how many centuries! So why couldn't she bring herself to cheer and applaud as passionately as those that surrounded her? Her insides flickered with a mild irritation and maybe even a tinge of hurt here and there. There was a maddening itch of some sort that could only be stopped with the gory, bloody, violent, gruesome slaughtering of a certain someone. She felt sick to her stomach. What the bloody hell had she been thinking last night? Hermione Aurelia Granger had almost done the unthinkable, the unfathomable, the inexplicable! There was absolutely no excuse for what had happened that night. She wasn't drunk, she wasn't sick, she wasn't drugged, she wasn't bribed, she wasn't even imperioed! She wasn't anything! There was nothing and no one to blame but herself! She was simply out of her bloody freaking mind! Hermione Granger loathes, despises, detests, abhors, the list could go on, but there was only one phrase that could sum it all up. She hated Draco Malfoy. She hated him with every bit of her mind, body and soul and she always would. She had never stopped.

Never.

Ever.

He sickened her to the very core of her heart and soul. There was nothing worse than a Draco Malfoy. Nothing! Not even a brain-sucking, mutant monkey-faced, eye-gouging, bone-chilling, gut-wrenching, mass murderer that stole adorable, harmless, fluffy, little bunnies from young children, then skinned them alive and returned the skinless corpses to the owners then wore the skins around in public. Nope! Not even that! Nadda, Naught, Nil, Zero, Zilch, Zip. Nothing!

N-O-T-H-I-N-G!

"Die, Draco Malfoy! DIE! Damn you to the darkest and deepest depths of hell!" she longed to scream in his stupid flawless face. But no. Hermione Granger was a lady of class and dignity. She would not lower herself his to perverted, pureblooded, death-eating, Slytherin status. But just maybe, she'd spit in his soup when he wasn't looking. Just maybe.

But if all this was what she desired, then why was there a little prick within her heart. Like a splinter driven deep within her, impossible to retrieve. If all this was true, then why did it hurt? Pain is only felt for those you care about. For those who care about you. For those who you love and reciprocate. Wasn't it? For the shortest, briefest possible time, she enjoyed his company. Their bickering wasn't nearly as hurtful as it'd previously, and they'd had fun together. She actually started to like him. To accept him as more than a pureblooded son of a bitch. But then this had to happen. He was absolutely frustrating. Absolutely infuriating! Like an enigma she could never solve, or a pattern that she could never follow.

It was there in plain sight, but she just couldn't see it. She kept falling for his little spurts of un-malfoyness. And every time, it only served to hurt her, to be thrown back into her face and kick him up a notch on her "this is how much I hate you, Draco Malfoy" scale. For a witch that was supposedly the brightest Hogwarts had seen in about a century, she sure was dumb. Plain and simple. She was stupid and gullible. Stupid and naïve. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! There was no other word to describe her actions! There had been a fleeting second for which she thought they could have been friends. Okay, maybe not friends precisely, but acquaintances. Or maybe just two people that didn't jump at each other's throats every time they crossed paths. Merlin! That thought sounded unbelievably ridiculous now. Seriously, what in the name of heaven and earth had she been thinking? However, was this the exact truth? Or was this just what she wanted to believe. The half truth. Hermione knew deep down inside of her stubborn soul that she had pondered the fact that maybe Malfoy liked her too. As a friend. That maybe, they could have worked things out. They had fun together. She couldn't deny that. And he was intelligent. Capable of carrying on an intellectual conversation with her, unlike most people she knew.

Malfoy didn't scorn her ability to memorize every thing she'd ever read. He didn't think of her as an insufferable know-it-all. Right? Mudblood, buck-tooth, bushy haired, he'd called her virtually every name in the book, except an insufferable know-it-all. He seemed to appreciate her intellect- or at least that's what she thought. But really, if she was such a know-it-all then why did she keep falling for his "I'm not such a bad guy" façade? Gods she hated how he'd manipulated her...

A rushing wave of hatred surged through her veins, her head pounded in sync with the beating of her heart.

It wasn't hatred for him. It was hatred for herself…

… She had brought this misery upon herself. She let herself fall into a death trap.

A death trap by the name of Draco Malfoy.

Suddenly, exactly five seats away from where Hermione had been sitting, the chair collapsed sending the occupant falling hard onto the solid ground.

She would not let him get the best of her.

She would not let herself fall.

Hermione peered over as people rushed over to the victim. A loud groan signaled that he was indeed all right.

"What on earth happened?"

"Are you injured, Lord Adonis?"

"This is preposterous! These chairs were hand crafted by the finest carpenter in the land!"

Malfoy

She cringed as she watched him being helped up by one of her sisters from the heap of wood that lay beneath him.

Wow

Wandless magic?

Looks like it. Lucky he didn't get too hurt

What do you mean LUCKY? UNLUCKY that he didn't get MORE hurt! Sodding git deserved all that and more.

True. But still, wow that you did wandless magic.

I know. At least I think I did…

Her heart began to race as a flurry of emotions whirl winded within her. She still had magic…her past hadn't been erased…

"Getting a little heavy, Malfoy? Not so damned perfect anymore are we" she said bitterly as she sauntered over to him. It was a rather feeble insult, but she couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment (save for the "die, Malfoy, die!" bit.)

The others had run off to fetch him some unneeded compresses and such while others were still busy fawning over the actors. Looking up from the bench, he glared at her.

"I know you did it, Granger. You're not the only one who can do wandless magic…What the hell crawled up your ass? "

Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed.

It wasn't his fault that you fell for his act you know

Yes it was!

I'm sorry, but I must have had my back turned when he IMPERIOED you WITHOUT his WAND

Damn you

I AM you so TECHNICALLY you'd be damning yourself

SHUT UP

Once again….

"You." Was her answer.

Silence overcame them when he didn't respond.

Draco's eyes drifted towards the slit across her wrist. It was a thin line caked with dry blood and the trail where there had been blood before was dry.

"I'm sorry" he said, not looking her in the eye.

"You're sorry?"

He nodded.

"For what?" she asked softly.

He didn't reply for a moment, but when he finally did, she understood.

"For that." he said running a finger along her wound.

Her heart filled with an unknown feeling. She didn't know what it was, but she was certain it wasn't hatred. Nor was it pain. Looking up into his entrancing silvery eyes, she smiled. A smile for him.

Willingly, he returned the gesture.

"Move!" a voice hissed from above the two. Hermione looked up and found herself at the receiving end of a deadly cobalt-blue glare.

"Are you deaf? I said move!" Thaleia repeated, shoving Hermione aside.

How rude…

Frowning, she shifted over and her sister occupied the vacant space between her and Draco.

The dark-haired mistress began to fuss incessantly over the blond, completely ignoring Hermione's existence. As she looked down at her self-inflicted injury, she found it was tingling with a peculiar warmth where he had run his finger. With a final glance at the Slytherin, Hermione rose from her seat.

And turned away from him.

Never once looking back.

You'd still have a chance
If you turn around
And look at me
I see you now
I can explain


Ah! Hope you all loved that! 7 pages again! But I love writing so much! And HP too lol ended up themeing (that's not a word but…) my English and Info tech projects HP lol! I am overly obsessed.

OH BTW TOM FELTON'S BIRTHDAY TODAY! HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY TOM FELTON! lol like he'll ever see this but, still. Technically it is today cuz in Britain it's like 22nd, day ahead and all. Still 21st here though, but whatever!

FYI

The swords of Justice actually do exist and anyone who lives in Vancity/Burnaby has… (Or…had depending on whether the exhibits still there or not) the chance to see it! There's like a England Crown jewels exhibit at Metrotown saw it this weekend lol never know what you're gunna see while shopping lol. 3 swords of justice: sword of mercy, sword of spiritual justice and sword of temporal justice 1616 from King Charles to king James or something like that used for coronations. There's also scepters and crowns and whooolllleeeeee load of stuff but I found the swords most appealing (my violent nature)

Song: Maren Ord: Eternity