Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Hermione woke up late and lay in her bed for a long time, smiling at the ceiling and running her fingers over and over her lips.

He kissed me. Draco kissed me. It was amazing…wonderful…amazing…

She sighed dreamily to herself. Just thinking about Draco's fingertips sinking into her hips, his tongue gliding across hers, his silky blonde hair sliding between her fingers…Well, it was enough to make her dormitory feel considerably warmer.

And the best part was, he had talked to her. After he slept for an hour or so, he had woken up refreshed and ready to open up – okay, to open up as much as possible. Hermione was proud of him for making a sincere effort to let down his guard, to drop the ultra-macho, super-self-absorbed act, yet she accepted that it would take time for Draco to completely lower his defenses, even for her, and just be who he was. Yesterday they had made progress. At least he trusted her now, and he knew how deeply she cared for him; and now she knew that the connection between them was real, not a figment of her imagination. Their serious conversation had been interspersed with enough heart-pounding kissing to convince her that Draco was definitely interested in more than friendship.

And oh my sweet holy lord, can he ever kiss…

Much as she wanted to stay curled up under the covers reliving her reunion with Draco, however, Hermione couldn't ignore the pile of homework waiting for her. After almost an hour of reminiscing, she reluctantly crawled out of bed, threw on jeans and a sweater, and headed down to the common room to start what would be a long day of studying.

After yesterday's rain, Sunday had dawned cool but clear. Most of Hermione's classmates were out on the laws enjoying the last of the tolerable weather. She hadn't seen Ron or Harry since before the Quidditch match the day before; not that it mattered much about Ron, who barely acknowledged her presence since she returned from the hospital ward, but she was eager to tell Harry the progress Draco was making.

Or am I? He'll know when he takes one look at me what happened between me and Draco, and I wouldn't hurt Harry for anything in the world.

Ah, well, she sighed inwardly, it couldn't be helped: She belonged to Draco now, heart and soul, for better or worse. What might have been between her and Harry would always be just that – what might have been but wasn't. At least their friendship had proved strong enough to weather the end of any romantic possibilities between them. Lately, in fact, Hermione had begun to wonder if Harry hadn't already moved on; he was spending an inordinate amount of time with Ginny, a fact which hadn't escaped the notice of the rather sour-looking Dean Thomas, either.

Lunchtime had come and gone and Hermione was hard at work on her Transfiguration essay when Harry, Ron, Seamus and Neville entered the common room, laughing about some practical joke Seamus had played on a group of third-year Slytherins. Closing her "prefect ears" so she didn't have to scold them, Hermione called to Harry, "Hey, you got a sec?"

He broke away from his friends and sat down across from her at the large oak table she had taken over in the corner. Hermione tried not to notice the cold glare Ron directed their way. He was more tolerant of Harry than of her these days, though not by much, yet he still looked irritated whenever she and Harry talked privately.

He probably feels excluded – but how can I feel guilty for that? He's the one who won't have hardly anything to do with us!

Shaking off thoughts of Ron, Hermione filled Harry in on the good news that Draco was finally talking to her. Although she left out the kissing parts, obviously, she knew her face gave her away, because Harry looked away rather sadly until he could arrange a neutral expression back in place. She hurriedly finished with, "I'd like to go back up and see him this evening. Don't you think this is a good sign, Harry? I mean, maybe you could come visit him this week and we could make him see not everyone is against him – "

At that moment, Ginny, flushed and breathless, burst into the common room. She made a beeline for Harry and Hermione, ignoring the curious stares of her brother, Seamus and Neville. Stopping at their table, she gasped out, "Lucius Malfoy has been released from Azkaban, and he's on his way here to collect Draco!"

Horror gripped Hermione. Draco's words echoed in her mind: "The only reason I'm still at this school is because Dumbledore doesn't know what else to do with me. I'm sure my father will take care of that once he finally gets himself out of Azkaban."

She could only imagine what Lucius Malfoy would do to a son who had become what Lucius would call a "half-breed." If Draco was lucky, he'd get to spend the rest of his life chained in the attic of the Malfoy mansion; if he wasn't…Well, she didn't even want to think about it.

"How do you know this?" Harry was pressing Ginny.

Sinking down into a chair, Ginny explained, "I was walking past the Headmaster's office, going outside for a while, you know, and I heard him saying something to Professor Snape about Lucius Malfoy petitioning the Board of Governors to have Dumbledore tossed for not informing him about Draco's illness. I hid behind one of the suits of armor, because I had to know how Malfoy was causing that kind of trouble from Azkaban, and then I heard Dumbledore say that Malfoy's release papers were signed this morning and he'll be here by tomorrow night to take Draco away!"

"What was Dumbledore going to do?" Harry's voice, like his eyes, had taken on a flinty quality that Hermione found comforting. Apparently, she wasn't the only person unwilling to hand Draco over to whatever cruel fate his father settled on for him.

"Well, Snape suggested that they petition the Board of Governors to have Draco declared of age – you know, so his father wouldn't have any right to take him out of school – but Dumbledore said they didn't have enough time. And when Snape said they could start the petition while Draco was at home, and then he could come back, Dumbledore said…"

Ginny stopped, looking loathe to continue her story. Ready to scream from the suspense, Hermione shrieked, "What? What did he say?"

Ginny's wide-eyed expression said plainly that whatever came next, it was awful. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she went on, "He said that Draco isn't going home. He said Malfoy already has a spot reserved for him at the Wyr Estate for Lycanthropes."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a bewildered glance. "Uh, Ginny," Harry prompted, "I have no idea what that means."

"Oh!" She blushed, obviously embarrassed about forgetting that, having grown up in the Muggle world, her friends were still out-of-the-loop in some aspects of wizard society. "Oh, it's this awful, awful place. I heard Dad telling Mum about it once, when the Ministry considered closing them down. It's this castle way, way out in the middle of nowhere, some unplottable place like Hogwarts, where people who are werewolves supposedly go to be 'cured'."

Harry held up a hand. "Wait. I'm lost. There's a cure for lycanthrope now?"

"No, that's the awful part," Ginny rushed on. "The place is founded on this ridiculous idea that a person can decide not to be a werewolf. Supposedly it just takes discipline. But Dad told Mum that what really happens there is, well," she shot an apologetic look at Hermione, as if she regretted having to reveal Draco's horrible fate to her, "more like torture. People in cages, being starving, getting beaten. Dad said nearly everyone who goes there dies. Anyone who doesn't ends up at St. Mungo's in a padded room, if you know what I mean."

Dread enveloped Hermione. How could a father, even a bigoted and merciless one like Lucius Malfoy, condemn his son to such a place? More to the point, how could Dumbledore allow this to happen?

Harry was already standing. "I don't believe Dumbledore will let Malfoy have Draco," he declared firmly. Hermione took strength from his resolve; he had to be right, the Headmaster would never stand idly by while one of his students was sentenced unjustly to death. "I'm going to go talk to him. See what the plan is."

"I should go to Draco." Numb, Hermione pushed to her feet. She swayed a little, and Harry reached out instinctively to steady her. Looking up into his eyes, she pleaded softly, "Don't let them do this, Harry. I-I couldn't stand it…"

Tears choked her. Harry wrapped his strong arms protectively around her; Ginny joined in, twining her small arms around them both.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," she promised, her voice tight with forced optimism. "You'll see. Dumbledore won't let anyone hurt Draco. He'll find a way to stop Lucius Malfoy."

"And if he doesn't," Harry added firmly, "I will."