"It clearly states in The Ins and Outs of Advanced Charms on page-" She
paused in her tirade to flip open the book in her lap and quickly scan
through a few pages. Upon finding the necessary information, she pointed
to it, and lifted the book towards her floating companion. "-Two hundred
sixty-eight that you must master the basics of wandless magic before even
attempting to do an invisibility spell."
Wafting over disinterestedly, her ghostly friend skimmed the page. A triumphant smirk crossed his features, causing her to frown in confusion and a growing seed of worry that somehow he'd been right. "You didn't read the rest."
"The rest?" she asked, confused. Turning the book back toward her, she looked at the sentence she'd apparently not checked very well. Her heart sunk, and she knew that he was not going to give up on this for a while. "Oh . . . that."
He grinned wolfishly. "What's it say, Granger?"
"I hate you, Malfoy," she replied succinctly, glaring at him.
"I'm pretty sure that's not what it says."
Heaving a sigh, she repeated some of the book's words. "Before beginning to attempt the incredibly complex invisibility spell, one must first have a firm grasp on the basics of wandless magic." She stopped reading and glanced up, only to find him suspended above her, smirking condescendingly. Her voice became a mere mumble, "Thatisunlessyouhavealreadyaccomplishedtheappearnancechangingspell."
His smirked grew only larger. "What was that, Granger? Speak up."
If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have been dead . . . again. "That is, unless you have already accomplished the appearance changing spell, as they are both similar in difficulty."
Draco tried to suppress his grin and be a gracious winner, yet it was just too much fun to watch her stew in her own juices. "Oh, gee, Granger. I guess that means I was right. Which means you were . . .?"
She murmured something too softly for him to hear. He drifted forward a bit, milking his moment of victory for all that it was worth. "What was that, Granger? I couldn't quite tell what you were saying. Perhaps if you tried to speak more clearly?"
"I said," she spat venomously, "that I was misinformed."
He laughed, letting himself fall so that he was face to face with her. "You were wrong, Granger."
She didn't join in his cheeriness. Instead, she did the least humiliating thing (for her) that could. She changed the subject. "Did you go see Dumbledore yet?"
He sighed. "Will you ever stop badgering me?" His voice was exasperated. She'd asked the same question at least once every time she'd come to visit. Just because he'd promised didn't mean that he was planning on actually seeing Professor Dumbledore anytime in the near future. He'd never given her a date. Perhaps in ten years, when the whole thing had blown over . . . he imagined the publicity a stunt like that would pull. It made him smile.
Huffing, she picked up the bag she'd discarded once she'd arrived for her nightly visitation. Carelessly dropping The Ins and Outs of Advanced Charms into it, she place the strap around her shoulder. Malfoy furrowed his brow and asked quickly, "Where are you going?"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione gave him an impatient look. "You promised me-"
"Yes, yes, I know. And I plan on honoring that promise . . . eventually."
"Why are you putting this off?" she exploded, annoyed by his obvious lack of care toward his own well being. "Why is it so bad? He's not going to tell everyone you got eaten by a giant squid!"
Draco looked panicked. "Not so loud!"
"What do you think he's going to do, post a large banner that says 'ATTENTION ALL OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, DRACO MALFOY WAS EATEN BY THE GIANT SQUID!' and let everyone laugh at you?"
"Not so loud!" he demanded again, becoming angrier and angrier, "Just because I happen to know more than you do about charms doesn't mean that you have to go ballistic and start shouting!" His voice was forceful, and he glared mightily. She returned his gaze for a bit but could not stand it after a minute. There was a tense moment that almost crackled.
"I'm sorry," she apologized softly, her shoulders dipping. He couldn't tell if she really meant it. She shifted the bag on her shoulder, composure regained. "I shouldn't have yelled like that."
"Tell me about it," he replied icily. She looked up sharply at his tone, and he saw her face. It was not a sight he would soon forget. She looked so very apologetic, brown eyes large and asking quietly for forgiveness. His demeanor softened. "It doesn't matter." He gave her a slight smile before continuing, "You probably ought to go back to your room for the night before our tempers really flare up." She nodded in agreement, turning and walking away slowly. Before she was out of earshot, Draco called out one last time.
"Maybe I'll tell him tomorrow."
She didn't even turn around.
~~
Draco didn't go and tell Dumbledore the next day. Or the day following. Or any of the days that week. He had meant to, he really had. He'd promised, after all, and a Malfoy always kept his word (rule number forty- one). Yet every time he gathered the nerve to go, he thought of an excuse not to. They were not very good excuses, but he found them within good reason to avoid the headmaster's office for one more night.
Hermione hadn't come back since that night.
He figured that in her twisted girl-mind, this was his punishment. Denying him contact with her was supposed to teach him a lesson. Had she been male, she would have approached him, yelled at him, tried to make him go. But girls didn't see fit to do that; they had to make you suffer, make you sorry for your petty crime. Only, this time, Draco Malfoy had the upper hand. He didn't care one bit that she hadn't come to see him. Nope, not at all.
Well, perhaps a little. But certainly no more than that.
Tonight's reason not to visit Dumbledore was that he wanted to see how long Hermione would hold out before she actually gave in and came to visit him. Draco knew that she could probably last a good, long while, most likely longer than him, but he chose not to admit that to himself. He was trying to prove a point; he didn't need Hermione Granger. He needed no company at all!
Somewhere down the hall leading to the left, he heard the faraway chime of a clock. He counted the tolls; it was eleven o'clock. It'd been a little over a week since he'd talked to anyone, he realized, and was struck by how quiet it had become. He let out a resigned sigh and assessed the situation.
On one hand, if he went to Dumbledore tonight, he would be able to travel anywhere he pleased the next day. He wouldn't have to see Hermione ever again, if he didn't want to. Not that he minded her as much as he once had, but if he came out into public, then he could choose his companions freely. Yet if he went to see Dumbledore, that also meant that he'd have to tell the truth and let everyone know.
He glowered at the air. Hagrid would most certainly get his; a large smile betrayed him as he imagined haunting the half-giant for the rest of his miserable life.
Being dead was dreadfully boring, he decided, scrunching his nose in malcontent. He admitted readily that Hermione had made the afterlife a bit more interesting, but he was a proud person, even in death. Why should he, Draco Malfoy, have to stoop to the demands of a common Muggleborn? Becoming quite cross with the entire situation, he found himself muttering aloud.
"I'm so bored."
Being a ghost had its perks, for sure, but floating through walls only provided so much entertainment before it became commonplace. And now that he'd been dead for a couple of weeks-he shook his head, time had been exceedingly difficult to keep track of, as of late-he found that it had lost its appeal. When you couldn't touch or feel anything it was infinitely harder to amuse yourself.
"Then why don't you get off your bloody high horse and just go see the Headmaster? Please?"
His head whipped to the left, where a half-invisible Hermione Granger was standing. The dratted Invisibility Cloak, he swore to himself. Glowering at her, he turned his nose toward the ceiling. "Nothing better to do, Granger?"
She rolled her eyes. "Come off it, Malfoy. Just go see the Headmaster." When the statement didn't evoke a reaction, she amended it ominously. "Or I'll do so myself."
If she had expected to see fear or paranoia she was sadly let down. Anger flashed through his transparent eyes. She blinked, vaguely remembering that they had been a very pretty gray color before he'd died. "Granger, if I wanted your holier-than-thou advice I would have asked for it. Can't you just leave me in peace?"
"If you were in peace, you wouldn't still be here." She replied cattily, keeping a cool head. She knew she was going to win this argument; she was determined to. "I've given you your ultimatum, Malfoy. You do it, or I will."
He smirked. "You wouldn't dare."
~~
"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger told me you'd be here."
For the first time in a very long while, Draco had found himself completely voiceless. Albus Dumbledore, old yet still seemingly timeless, was standing in front of him, smiling benignly. Behind him stood Hermione, giving him a self-satisfied look. Had he possessed the presence of mind, he would have given her a level steel glare she would not soon forget. Instead, to his eternal disgust, his countenance held a blank and dumbfounded look.
"Pro-professor! What . . . I mean, how? I don't-that is to say . . . Granger , I am going to kill you."
Offering a chuckle of amusement and a small shrug, Dumbledore kept the same smile on his face. "Now, now, Mr. Malfoy. I won't tolerate threats to my students. I promise you that you are not in any trouble. I merely want to ask a few simple questions, and then I will leave you be to your closet."
Draco continued to stare defiantly at the pair, recognizing the fact that he had little choice in the matter. Dumbledore took that as a yes, and began a bombardment of questions. "How did you die?" "When?" "What happened to you since?" "Why have you chosen to hide?" By the time the interview had drawn to a close, Draco was even more ill tempered than before, if that was possible. He frowned heartily at both his former Headmaster and classmate.
"This information won't be released, will it?" he muttered harshly, eyes shifting between the two.
Dumbledore looked a bit surprised, "No, not unless you want it to be released. Your secret is safe with me. However, your parents of course will have to be told-" Draco looked stricken "-and unless you want to face an endless barrage of questions, I say you'll probably need an alternate story to tell the public."
Mumbling a half-hearted, "Yes, sir", Draco watched the old man walk confidently down the hall. Hermione stayed, looking bashfully at her feet. Draco didn't buy it for a second; the little Mudblood was proud of herself for what she had done! For her betrayal. He turned away from her.
"I can't believe you did that to me."
She looked up, her visage a bit too innocent. "It had to be done. You know that. You would have had to face it eventually, so why not get it over with?" As she paused, she noticed he was about to speak. She hurried to cut him off and avoid a long rant about how horrible she was. "Was it that bad, anyway? He said no one would have to know."
"Except my parents. And believe me, that's bad." He felt as if he were going to explode and land at her feet in tiny shredded pieces. "Very, very bad. They're going to kill me!"
"You're already dead."
"That wasn't funny, Granger."
There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Hermione sighed. "If you're waiting for an apology, Draco Malfoy, then you'll be waiting for a long time, because you're not getting one. I did what I thought was right, and I think it will ultimately work out better for you." Her voice faded and she shifted her weight on her feet as if thinking about leaving.
He stared at her for a moment. He felt a lot of things at that point- anger, betrayal, but also a tiny bit of respect. She'd done what she felt was best for his well-being; she'd been looking out for him. Not a lot of people did that. His anger had cooled to a simmer, but still threatened to boil over. Sighing, he shrugged.
"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow or something," he said monotonously, before coasting through the wall into the safety of his broom closet. Through the door, he heard her footsteps die away.
Tomorrow, he resolved, he would go out into the open.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you, Captain Obvious.
A/N: Not much to say. Just wanted to give a big THANK YOU to those who reviewed:
Sylvan Tears, kway, paradoxical, and Madagascan Shrub!
You guys made me VERY happy!
Please read and review!
Wafting over disinterestedly, her ghostly friend skimmed the page. A triumphant smirk crossed his features, causing her to frown in confusion and a growing seed of worry that somehow he'd been right. "You didn't read the rest."
"The rest?" she asked, confused. Turning the book back toward her, she looked at the sentence she'd apparently not checked very well. Her heart sunk, and she knew that he was not going to give up on this for a while. "Oh . . . that."
He grinned wolfishly. "What's it say, Granger?"
"I hate you, Malfoy," she replied succinctly, glaring at him.
"I'm pretty sure that's not what it says."
Heaving a sigh, she repeated some of the book's words. "Before beginning to attempt the incredibly complex invisibility spell, one must first have a firm grasp on the basics of wandless magic." She stopped reading and glanced up, only to find him suspended above her, smirking condescendingly. Her voice became a mere mumble, "Thatisunlessyouhavealreadyaccomplishedtheappearnancechangingspell."
His smirked grew only larger. "What was that, Granger? Speak up."
If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have been dead . . . again. "That is, unless you have already accomplished the appearance changing spell, as they are both similar in difficulty."
Draco tried to suppress his grin and be a gracious winner, yet it was just too much fun to watch her stew in her own juices. "Oh, gee, Granger. I guess that means I was right. Which means you were . . .?"
She murmured something too softly for him to hear. He drifted forward a bit, milking his moment of victory for all that it was worth. "What was that, Granger? I couldn't quite tell what you were saying. Perhaps if you tried to speak more clearly?"
"I said," she spat venomously, "that I was misinformed."
He laughed, letting himself fall so that he was face to face with her. "You were wrong, Granger."
She didn't join in his cheeriness. Instead, she did the least humiliating thing (for her) that could. She changed the subject. "Did you go see Dumbledore yet?"
He sighed. "Will you ever stop badgering me?" His voice was exasperated. She'd asked the same question at least once every time she'd come to visit. Just because he'd promised didn't mean that he was planning on actually seeing Professor Dumbledore anytime in the near future. He'd never given her a date. Perhaps in ten years, when the whole thing had blown over . . . he imagined the publicity a stunt like that would pull. It made him smile.
Huffing, she picked up the bag she'd discarded once she'd arrived for her nightly visitation. Carelessly dropping The Ins and Outs of Advanced Charms into it, she place the strap around her shoulder. Malfoy furrowed his brow and asked quickly, "Where are you going?"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione gave him an impatient look. "You promised me-"
"Yes, yes, I know. And I plan on honoring that promise . . . eventually."
"Why are you putting this off?" she exploded, annoyed by his obvious lack of care toward his own well being. "Why is it so bad? He's not going to tell everyone you got eaten by a giant squid!"
Draco looked panicked. "Not so loud!"
"What do you think he's going to do, post a large banner that says 'ATTENTION ALL OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, DRACO MALFOY WAS EATEN BY THE GIANT SQUID!' and let everyone laugh at you?"
"Not so loud!" he demanded again, becoming angrier and angrier, "Just because I happen to know more than you do about charms doesn't mean that you have to go ballistic and start shouting!" His voice was forceful, and he glared mightily. She returned his gaze for a bit but could not stand it after a minute. There was a tense moment that almost crackled.
"I'm sorry," she apologized softly, her shoulders dipping. He couldn't tell if she really meant it. She shifted the bag on her shoulder, composure regained. "I shouldn't have yelled like that."
"Tell me about it," he replied icily. She looked up sharply at his tone, and he saw her face. It was not a sight he would soon forget. She looked so very apologetic, brown eyes large and asking quietly for forgiveness. His demeanor softened. "It doesn't matter." He gave her a slight smile before continuing, "You probably ought to go back to your room for the night before our tempers really flare up." She nodded in agreement, turning and walking away slowly. Before she was out of earshot, Draco called out one last time.
"Maybe I'll tell him tomorrow."
She didn't even turn around.
~~
Draco didn't go and tell Dumbledore the next day. Or the day following. Or any of the days that week. He had meant to, he really had. He'd promised, after all, and a Malfoy always kept his word (rule number forty- one). Yet every time he gathered the nerve to go, he thought of an excuse not to. They were not very good excuses, but he found them within good reason to avoid the headmaster's office for one more night.
Hermione hadn't come back since that night.
He figured that in her twisted girl-mind, this was his punishment. Denying him contact with her was supposed to teach him a lesson. Had she been male, she would have approached him, yelled at him, tried to make him go. But girls didn't see fit to do that; they had to make you suffer, make you sorry for your petty crime. Only, this time, Draco Malfoy had the upper hand. He didn't care one bit that she hadn't come to see him. Nope, not at all.
Well, perhaps a little. But certainly no more than that.
Tonight's reason not to visit Dumbledore was that he wanted to see how long Hermione would hold out before she actually gave in and came to visit him. Draco knew that she could probably last a good, long while, most likely longer than him, but he chose not to admit that to himself. He was trying to prove a point; he didn't need Hermione Granger. He needed no company at all!
Somewhere down the hall leading to the left, he heard the faraway chime of a clock. He counted the tolls; it was eleven o'clock. It'd been a little over a week since he'd talked to anyone, he realized, and was struck by how quiet it had become. He let out a resigned sigh and assessed the situation.
On one hand, if he went to Dumbledore tonight, he would be able to travel anywhere he pleased the next day. He wouldn't have to see Hermione ever again, if he didn't want to. Not that he minded her as much as he once had, but if he came out into public, then he could choose his companions freely. Yet if he went to see Dumbledore, that also meant that he'd have to tell the truth and let everyone know.
He glowered at the air. Hagrid would most certainly get his; a large smile betrayed him as he imagined haunting the half-giant for the rest of his miserable life.
Being dead was dreadfully boring, he decided, scrunching his nose in malcontent. He admitted readily that Hermione had made the afterlife a bit more interesting, but he was a proud person, even in death. Why should he, Draco Malfoy, have to stoop to the demands of a common Muggleborn? Becoming quite cross with the entire situation, he found himself muttering aloud.
"I'm so bored."
Being a ghost had its perks, for sure, but floating through walls only provided so much entertainment before it became commonplace. And now that he'd been dead for a couple of weeks-he shook his head, time had been exceedingly difficult to keep track of, as of late-he found that it had lost its appeal. When you couldn't touch or feel anything it was infinitely harder to amuse yourself.
"Then why don't you get off your bloody high horse and just go see the Headmaster? Please?"
His head whipped to the left, where a half-invisible Hermione Granger was standing. The dratted Invisibility Cloak, he swore to himself. Glowering at her, he turned his nose toward the ceiling. "Nothing better to do, Granger?"
She rolled her eyes. "Come off it, Malfoy. Just go see the Headmaster." When the statement didn't evoke a reaction, she amended it ominously. "Or I'll do so myself."
If she had expected to see fear or paranoia she was sadly let down. Anger flashed through his transparent eyes. She blinked, vaguely remembering that they had been a very pretty gray color before he'd died. "Granger, if I wanted your holier-than-thou advice I would have asked for it. Can't you just leave me in peace?"
"If you were in peace, you wouldn't still be here." She replied cattily, keeping a cool head. She knew she was going to win this argument; she was determined to. "I've given you your ultimatum, Malfoy. You do it, or I will."
He smirked. "You wouldn't dare."
~~
"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Granger told me you'd be here."
For the first time in a very long while, Draco had found himself completely voiceless. Albus Dumbledore, old yet still seemingly timeless, was standing in front of him, smiling benignly. Behind him stood Hermione, giving him a self-satisfied look. Had he possessed the presence of mind, he would have given her a level steel glare she would not soon forget. Instead, to his eternal disgust, his countenance held a blank and dumbfounded look.
"Pro-professor! What . . . I mean, how? I don't-that is to say . . . Granger , I am going to kill you."
Offering a chuckle of amusement and a small shrug, Dumbledore kept the same smile on his face. "Now, now, Mr. Malfoy. I won't tolerate threats to my students. I promise you that you are not in any trouble. I merely want to ask a few simple questions, and then I will leave you be to your closet."
Draco continued to stare defiantly at the pair, recognizing the fact that he had little choice in the matter. Dumbledore took that as a yes, and began a bombardment of questions. "How did you die?" "When?" "What happened to you since?" "Why have you chosen to hide?" By the time the interview had drawn to a close, Draco was even more ill tempered than before, if that was possible. He frowned heartily at both his former Headmaster and classmate.
"This information won't be released, will it?" he muttered harshly, eyes shifting between the two.
Dumbledore looked a bit surprised, "No, not unless you want it to be released. Your secret is safe with me. However, your parents of course will have to be told-" Draco looked stricken "-and unless you want to face an endless barrage of questions, I say you'll probably need an alternate story to tell the public."
Mumbling a half-hearted, "Yes, sir", Draco watched the old man walk confidently down the hall. Hermione stayed, looking bashfully at her feet. Draco didn't buy it for a second; the little Mudblood was proud of herself for what she had done! For her betrayal. He turned away from her.
"I can't believe you did that to me."
She looked up, her visage a bit too innocent. "It had to be done. You know that. You would have had to face it eventually, so why not get it over with?" As she paused, she noticed he was about to speak. She hurried to cut him off and avoid a long rant about how horrible she was. "Was it that bad, anyway? He said no one would have to know."
"Except my parents. And believe me, that's bad." He felt as if he were going to explode and land at her feet in tiny shredded pieces. "Very, very bad. They're going to kill me!"
"You're already dead."
"That wasn't funny, Granger."
There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Hermione sighed. "If you're waiting for an apology, Draco Malfoy, then you'll be waiting for a long time, because you're not getting one. I did what I thought was right, and I think it will ultimately work out better for you." Her voice faded and she shifted her weight on her feet as if thinking about leaving.
He stared at her for a moment. He felt a lot of things at that point- anger, betrayal, but also a tiny bit of respect. She'd done what she felt was best for his well-being; she'd been looking out for him. Not a lot of people did that. His anger had cooled to a simmer, but still threatened to boil over. Sighing, he shrugged.
"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow or something," he said monotonously, before coasting through the wall into the safety of his broom closet. Through the door, he heard her footsteps die away.
Tomorrow, he resolved, he would go out into the open.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you, Captain Obvious.
A/N: Not much to say. Just wanted to give a big THANK YOU to those who reviewed:
Sylvan Tears, kway, paradoxical, and Madagascan Shrub!
You guys made me VERY happy!
Please read and review!