Metamorphosis: A Story of Maturing
Chapter 8: Parites Absolvisti
Hermione had very little idea what to do with the now unconscious body of Draco Malfoy. In fact, Hermione had very little idea what to do at all. Struggling with his sleepy weight, she maneuvered him towards the bed and laid him down on his back.
Something was very, very confusing about all of this. She plopped herself down on the other nearby bed. It was very late, but she wasn't sleepy, her thoughts muddled and confused by the blond boy. Given, there had been a different feeling between them recently, not so based in angry hatred, rather, dare she say it, sexual tension? But she certainly hadn't expected him to kiss her.
Not that she minded, really.
Harry and Ginny were blissfully unaware of the rare moment of confusion and panic Hermione was feeling upstairs. They were sitting awkwardly on the moth-bitten sofa, staring determinedly at anything except each other, and every few minutes one of them would utter a little hmm…or well…noise.
Then, they'd shift back to staring at their hands.
Awkward.
Then they looked up and made eye contact. Things went well from there.
Draco was enjoying a very nice, guilty fantasy. He was kissing the soft, full lips of Hermione Granger, who was wearing the exciting under-things he caught a glimpse of upon her arrival. Mmmmmm…
"Hermione…" He moaned. Stretching languidly he cracked open his eyes and was mildly surprised to see a different ceiling than usual. A glance to the left and he was pleased to find that no Ron, Harry or Neville was in sight. A glance to the right and he was frozen in place.
What had he been dreaming about?
There was Hermione, curled up like a cat, asleep with a heavy book in her hand. He could see the title between her fingers: Advanced Spell Analysis. The book had shut itself while she was sleeping, but her finger marked the place still. He took it from her hand.
Often times when the traditional sleeper spell does not come into full contact with the subject, it will have an effect similar to intoxicating the subject. This means that while in this intoxicated state, the subject will act upon their true desires and feelings without thought to the consequences, or any of their inhibitions. An unfortunate side effect is increased drowsiness and possible narcolepsy for a short period of time. All effects will wear off after the subject has slept for two hours at the minimum, and he or she will have a spotty recollection of their actions.
"Well," thought Draco, "That was interesting and pointless. I wonder why she was reading up on sleeping spells."
He placed the book in the patch of moonlight on her bedside table and stretched again. He felt very well rested.
Reaching down absently he pushed a curly lock of hair from its place across Hermione's cheek, tucking it behind her ear. A sudden image flashed through his head as his palm touched her cheek: kissing madly…his hands around her shoulders, her face swimming in and out of focus. "No, not in here…sorry."
The image was gone before he could grasp it fully, and he pulled back his hand as if burnt. Hissing a breath through his teeth, he watched her turn in her sleep. Before he realized what he was doing, he leaned down and kissed her softly, then turned and left the room quickly, quietly.
And Hermione opened her eyes and smiled.
Dawn found almost no one asleep in their beds. Harry and Ginny were, in fact, asleep downstairs on the couch, and Ron and Neville were no where to be found. Draco had been quite pleased to have a room to himself that night, but tossed an turned, not sleepy at all until far after the sun had come up. Hermione didthe same.
When the clocks read a more reasonable hour, Draco and Hermione found themselves on the stairs, both heading down to breakfast. They turned to the hallway, and started heading toward the kitchen when Hermione stopped short. Draco, behind her, wasn't paying attention and nearly plowed into her. Frowning defensively, he got ready to tell the stupid mudblood off when he caught the look on her face.
There was something soft in her eyes, something he hadn't really seen before. He followed her line of vision and had to catch himself before saying, "awww…"
He understood why he and Hermione had had rooms to themselves the night before. Harry Potter and the littlest Weasley were sleeping on the couch, entwined comfortably together. Harry's hand was tangled in Ginny's hair, and her arm was wrapped around his chest. Harry's glasses were askew and both of their legs were tangled within each other's.
Hermione made a shushing motion and crept past them, Draco following. Settling down at the kitchen table, Draco realized Hermione was acting much more cheerful than usual. To be precise, she was humming. She started up a pan of bacon, and waved he wand at a few bits of bread, which started to toast themselves.
"What's put you in such a good mood?" He asked, surly. She kept humming. "No, honestly. Why are you smiling?"
"Because I know something you don't know." She said in a singsong voice, flipping a piece of bacon over.
Draco just growled softly. It was much easier to be around Hermione when she was irritating. It meant the fluttery feeling in his stomach he had recently been experiencing was more smothered.
She suddenly put a plate of bacon and toast in front of him. Absently he chewed on the toast. He wasn't going to ask her what she knew. It would be humiliating.
"What is it, Granger."
"Nothing…" She sat her own plate down and started to eat. Draco was suddenly surprised to find that he didn't really mind eating with Granger the Mudblood. In fact, he was actually enjoying Hermione's quiet company.
When she was done, he took her plate before she could stand up and started to wash it. She stood there, dumbfounded as he, Arrogant Lord Draco, washed her plate. This was not the same haughty, nasty boy she had seen at school.
"Th-Thanks." Draco just nodded curtly.
"Just go." Hermione skittered out of the room like her dress was on fire. And, almost inevitably, in her haste, she hit the one and only umbrella stand.
She had never really cared that the stupid portrait cursed at her. She, being a muggleborn had often endured taunts from many sources, non the least being the boy in the kitchen.
Shouts of Mudblood Filth never bothered her anymore. Really. She could ignore anything if she just tried hard enough. Wrenching the curtains shut over the wailing portrait, she sighed in dejection.
It wasn't as if she liked being screamed at ever time she made a noise in the entrance hall. She wiped a tear she didn't know had fallen.
She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice how the silver-blue eyes of Draco followed her up the stairs, thinking furiously.
What was it? What can't I remember?
Harry felt like he was swimming through pudding. He felt sore in his lower back, and his legs were definitely asleep, but he felt very content. The only thing that was bothering him was the stiff poking he was enduring in the back of the head.
Twisting his head from its comfortable position buried in a mass of red hair, he turned to the less pleasing sight of Draco Malfoy, leaning over him with the expression of one who had recently swallowed a lot of burlap extract: slightly ill, but very, very excited.
"Potter. Unwrap yourself from the Weasley twat and help me!" He was waving his wand wildly, and Harry was sorely tempted to tell him exactly where to put it and go back to sleep, and he almost did. The only thing stopping his was the now shifting weight of Ginny Weasley on his chest.
"Wha…? Hello Harry." She nuzzled his neck and smiled. "What's Malfoy doing with that wand?" Harry blushed pink and looked frantically at Draco.
"Don't tell her brothers."
"Then help me with this for Hermione."
"What're you going to do for Hermione?" asked Ginny. Peeling herself from Harry she stood up and pulled her hair back.
"I'm not telling you. I need Potter to tell me where I can find a pensieve. I'm sure he's got one, or someone has."
"I haven't, actually. I don't think anyone here does, to be honest. And what do you need on for anyway?"
"I'm not telling."
"I've got a pensieve." Both boys turned to Ginny. "Well I do. Dumbledore gave me one after I…you know, with Tom."Harrynodded and Draco had a moment of shameful revelation. "I had terrible nightmares, and just taking the fear out of me helped. It's in my trunk."
"Let me use it. Please. I have to remember something." Ginny nodded and ran upstairs.
Harry glared at Draco. "I don't know what you're planning on doing, but it had better not hurt Hermione. I know—"
"You don't know anything, Potter. You have absolutely no idea what's going on here. I just remembered something that might make her very happy, and I need to see it more carefully."
"Then let me go into the pensieve with you."
Draco hesitated. He knew Potter might not let him even deposit the memory if he wasn't allowed to see it, but he didn't want Harry to see his memories if he could help it.
"I—alright." Harry looked startled. So did Draco. "But this doesn't mean I like you, alright?"
"Yeah, of course. I don't like you either."
Ginny pounded down the stairs, a pensieve a little smaller than the one in Dumbledore's office in her hands. Placing it on the coffee table, she looked sternly at Draco.
"If I hear that you so much as thought about looking at the other memories in there, I'll kill you. I'm not even kidding."
"No worries, Weaslette, I'm going with Potter here. I'm sure he'll protect his little girlfriend's memories for you." Ginny and Harry blushed. Draco shifted his feet awkwardly.
Flipping around his wand, he concentrated very hard on his memory. Pulling the silvery strand out, he let it drop down into the swirling mass of silver already there. Harry stuck out his hand and Draco took it, and then they both leaned into the pensieve together.
One…two…three…
Their noses touching the surface, they felt themselves falling into the memory.
The memory, which Harry was mildly surprised to see, took place in the next room.
Harry and Draco stood in the foyer of Grimmauld Place, watching another version of Draco manage to trip and fall face first over an umbrella stand shaped like a troll leg as he landed. Following the loud crash of his fall, there was another piercing screeching noise. Memory-Draco rolled over and stood up quickly, looking for the source of that terrible sound. When he finally figured it out, Harry could see the shock on his face.
There was the portrait of a woman he could recognize without a doubt as the most recent mother of the Black family. The woman in the portrait was screaming what Draco assumed to be words and as he tried to shut up the portrait, he could discern some of them.
"FOUL VILE MUDBLOOD-LOVERS...YOU DARE DEFILE… MOST NOBLE HOUSE…MY BASTARD SON…TRAITORS ALL OF YOU…" and on and on she went. The shrieking was unbearable.
"MADAM BLACK! PLEASE, BE QUIET!" And she was. She looked at Draco with and an appraising eye.
"I haven't met you before. Are you a new recruit for the Order? Another one of these lowlifes Dumbledore digs up from the dredges of Society?"
Draco was highly offended, "I, madam, am a Malfoy, not some dredge, as you so kindly put it." The expression on the portrait's face changed to one of utter joy.
"At last! My darling Narcissa has conspired to save me! Quick, before anyone else comes, the spell to get me off the wall is parietis absolvisti. Quick! Before anyone else comes! They'll be home any minute!" Just as she finished speaking, the front door opened with a bang.
Harry gasped and Draco smiled in triumph. Maybe Potter wasn't so think as he thought. Just as the angry voice of Mrs. Weasley began to ring out through the foyer, Harry and Draco pulled themselves out of the pensieve and landed on the floor with a thud.
Draco was up in an instant.
"Do you think it'll be alright if we take it down?"
"Alright? Are you kidding? We'll be given lavish rewards from everyone who's ever met the hag!"
"We should do it now!"
"Yeah, right now. Let's go."
The two boys sprinted to the front hall, wands in hand, leaving a stunned Ginny in their wake. Harry whipped open the moldy curtains startling Mrs. Black from her sleep, and Draco pointed his wand at the shocked face of the painting.
"It is time," he said, "for you to go." Before the stunned portraid could even draw a breath to scream, the two boys together rang out:
"Parietis Absolvisti"
A/N: OK OK IT'S ALL CRAP. I KNOW. But suddenly I developed a social life and an SAT prep course and ohmigawd my life just…PWSHT.
So here's a chapter to read. It's terrible, but there should only really be one more chapter after this. I'm planning on ending this before school starts, so I can really concentrate on my marks and such. The last chapter should be up within then next two or three weeks. I'm going to try and make it really good, as to go out with a bang, not like these past two crap-buckets.
Thanks to all who've been reviewing up till now, and to the rest, please keep reviewing. I love it. Even if I don't deserve it.
Also: Ten points to anyone who can tell me where the "why are you smiling" line comes from. It isn't really original, and twenty billion points to anyone who can tell me what Hermione knew and Draco didn't, if she followed the original script.