Chapter Sixteen: Black Moon
Grey eyes, framed by long blond hair, were the last things Hermione was able to register about her dream before she was brought into wakefulness by the sounds of her dorm mates packing the last of their possessions in a rush to board the Hogwarts express. She sat bolt up right. The comfort the dream had brought was extricated by the realty of its subject. She nearly cursed in frustration as she let herself fall back against her bed with a dull-flump-.
"Sodding Malfoy." She thought grumpily. Then she found herself becoming thankful that she did not owe Blaise a lifedebt. If she was going to be having these kinds of dreams, it was, at the very least, mildly appropriate with only one person serving as the inspiration. It almost amused her to think of the both of them having to share her dreamscape, especially in that capacity. She suppressed a snort and shook her head.
She took the time to contemplate all the events of yesterday that left her unable to feel, but found that her thoughts chased each other without any sort of order.
She decided the best way to sort through everything was to do what she'd always done when such a situation arose, which was write to her parents. Hermione summoned a parchment and quill to her and opened the curtains a fraction to let a sliver of light fall upon the parchment. While her dorm mates prepared for the day, making their ablutions, putting their pets in their carriers and packing any last minute items, Hermione wrote under the pretense of sleep.
"Dear Mum and Dad,
So much has happened since my last letter to you that I don't know where to start. My mind is so clouded at the moment. I suppose I should start from the beginning.
Three weeks ago the ceiling collapsed in the Great Hall right over my head. Don't worry, I didn't get hurt, but that's all thanks to one Draco Malfoy. Remember him? The Slytherin git who always teased me for being muggle-born? That Draco Malfoy. I don't know why he did it, and judging by the look on his face, neither does he.
In any case, after saving my life, I owed him a lifedebt. That's a magical contract between two people when there is a life saved. If you are wondering why I've never mentioned it before, when Harry and Ron have saved my life loads of times, it's because the contract isn't valid between people who love each other. I first learned about lifedebts in first year when Harry and Ron saved me from that troll. Neither loved me yet, heck, they didn't even like me! I felt strange after it happened and I consulted Professor McGonagall and she told me about it.
But I digress. The castle wasn't safe for the Slytherins, so they were moved into the other house dorms. None of them were happy about this, especially Blaise. That name doesn't sound familiar does it? I just met him this year, although he's in my year and second in the class. Blaise Zabini. He's "
Hermione paused, looking for an adjective to properly describe Blaise.
"Intense." She wrote.
"To clear myself of the lifedebt, Malfoy has me brewing a potion that will help restore the foundation magic in Hogwarts and get the slytherins their dorm back. Blaise was going to help, but he and Malfoy got into a fight and nearly killed each other. It was really scary, but I managed to break it up and I saved Malfoy's life in the process.
I still have one more lifedebt, from when he, Blaise, Harry and Ron cured me of Hepatyphus. (That's the wizarding disease that kills one out of every three wizard babies I was telling you about.) The weird thing is"
Hermione took a deep calming breath, only then realizing her hands were shaking slightly.
"Although both Malfoy and Blaise helped me, I only owe a lifedebt to Malfoy. Before you ask, I have no idea what this means. Blaise said it was because I got him out of trouble earlier, but I don't know. I've been feeling confused a lot lately. I mean, I don't know anything about him… not really.
Well, he's intense, like I said, and passionate, according to his mother. I met her when she came to school to see him get a special award for services to the school along with Malfoy, Harry, and Ron for saving me. I didn't like her very much, but she seemed determined to keep me from being afraid of Blaise, but that might've been because she thought we were dating. Blaise corrected that assumption and she seemed really put out.
Harry and Ron, on the other hand, don't trust him and think he's dangerous. I don't blame them really. He can do magic by just thinking it – no wand or anything. And his eyes"
Hermione shuddered slightly at the memory.
"Everyone in the room knows when he comes in; you can feel the power he radiates. Everyone is afraid of him. Even I was! It's really got to be terrible, having so much power like that. People hate him here. And me? I don't know what to think anymore."
At that moment, the curtains were yanked open sharply. Hermione blinked until her eyes adjusted and looked up at the intruder. Pansy was standing there looking down at Hermione curiously.
"I thought you were sleeping." Pansy said bluntly.
"So you decided to awaken me very rudely?" Hermione asked sharply.
Pansy narrowed her eyes.
"You're in a crappy mood this morning. Anyway, Draco says to get a move on. He doesn't want to waste any time."
"The black moon is tonight, we aren't going to make it." Hermione said, her brows crossing in agitation.
"Apparently he's already set to work on the potion." Hermione's eye brows rose. "But he needs your help in this phase, so get up."
"Why can't you help him?" Hermione muttered angrily, but got up just the same.
"Because I can barely transfigure a tea bag." Pansy snapped back. Apparently she wasn't in a good mood either.
Hermione muttered all the way to the bathroom, leaving Pansy alone in the girls' dormitory. The red-headed Slytherin noticed the parchment on the bed. She looked round to make sure the coast was clear, before picking it up and reading it.
"I knew it." She muttered as she came to the part about the lack of lifedebt between Hermione and Blaise. Her voice, however, wasn't triumphant, but worried. Pansy shook her head. "Merlin, Granger. What have you gotten yourself into?"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Draco frowned and squinted. The sunlight streaming through the windows to the hospital wing caused him to stir much earlier than he would have liked. He blinked several times and reached up with a bandaged arm to push the hair from his eyes. They'd given him a potion to grow his melted hair back to one length, and that length happened to be to his mid back. He grimaced as his fingers trailed down the long white-blond locks. He'd need to get it cut as soon as possible.
Madame Pomfrey came around the privacy screen at that moment to see that he was awake. She unwrapped his bandages to see the skin healed.
"No scar this time Mr. Malfoy." She said approvingly. "I didn't know if it would scar the same as last time."
"Some things never heal no matter what you do to them." Draco replied in a monotone, wishing he were alone.
"With all that hair, you look just like your father!" Madame Pomfrey said, trying to lighten the mood. But far from lightening his mood, the mention of his father made Draco feel nostalgic.
His father always said, "Failure is unbecoming of a Malfoy, Draco. Remember that"
History is made to repeat itself. Draco thought in reply, arguing with a mental image of his father.
Failure always left an emptiness more unbearable than the pain of flame on flesh. Strange, it hadn't felt this bad the last time he'd lost a duel to Blaise. Perhaps because the last physical injury he'd sustained at Blaise's hand was unintentional. But this time, he would've died by his former-friend's hand if it were not for Hermione. Hermione who had gotten in the way; who had saved him. His chest constricted. His breathing sped up. He closed his eyes and the scene replayed itself on the back of his lids..
Her feet were planted, her arms were raised, her face was set. She was speaking, but he couldn't remember what she said.The only thing he remembered was the pleading. Please,please, please…They're just words.
"Well, you seem fine. You may leave when you are ready."
Draco blinked and nodded. He knew it must still be very early, but he was glad. He'd have a little alone time to contemplate everything. He had a lot of thinking to do now that Blaise was gone. If he couldn't find another to take the Synergy potion, the batch he'd started work on last week would be worthless and the Basilisk tooth Blaise had already added would be wasted.
He stood up and pulled on the fresh clothes his mother had brought down before departing the night before. He was glad she left. She looked like she could do with a strong drink, a long bath and a good night's sleep after the scare she had experienced. His face twisted and he put his mother from his mind. He felt enough like crap without feeling guilty for losing on her behalf.
Losing. He seemed to be made for nothing but losing. He'd lost every quidditch match to Potter. He'd taken second on every test to Granger. He'd lost her to Blaise. He'd lost his father to Azkaban. And last night, he'd lost his pride to Zabini again. Draco gritted his teeth and snarled at the thought, as he stomped up the marble staircase making much more noise than was strictly necessary.
Damn him! Draco thought vindictively, as his thoughts turned to the night before. He could remember seeing Morgan enter. That cursed woman had a nasty habit of ruining his life. Her presence alone was enough to make Draco shudder in disgust. He certainly could've done with out the flirtatious wink she passed him. It was that gesture that set his mother off, Draco was sure of it. Then the two women started arguing; the same old quips, but the whole time he'd kept his eyes on Blaise. He knew, just like the other boy knew, that although their parents were starting it again, it would be they who would finish it again.
Draco didn't know what he had been expecting. He picked the fight right back up where Morgan had attempted to keep it down, goading the other into initiating the Duel of Honor. Draco knew he couldn't win, but at the time he hadn't cared; he just wanted to do Blaise some injury, and defend the honor of his house. He knew that Duels of Honor could only be ended by death, forfeit, or incapacitation, but he didn't think Blaise would try to kill him. Blaise, who was incapable of casting the Cruciatus Curse; Blaise, who had always shied away from violence; Blaise, who had sobbed and prayed for forgiveness the last time he'd injured Draco; that Blaise would never try to kill him.
The shock of the lifedebt fulfillment was as pronounced to Draco as the horror on Granger's face. Draco could only stare on helplessly, as the boy who had been a brother showed no remorse at all. Then Potter had the nerve to try to help him to the hospital wing, playing the heroic prat as usual, as if his pride hadn't been damaged enough. Afterwards, came the damning question: Will he hurt Hermione? Admitting the truth cut Draco deeper than he would ever admit to anyone.
"I don't know who he is anymore." Draco whispered to himself.
Gone was the "benevolent boy" as the members of the church had called him. The good tempered and inexplicably kind boy Draco had grown up with was lost. It was like someone had gutted his former-friend and shoved another person into his body – a cold, emotionless, violent and hateful person. As much as Draco hated it and hated him he mourned the loss of the real Blaise Zabini.
"I don't know him." Draco repeated and shook himself, clearing his head of sentimentality.
Well, Blaise was gone now and Granger still owed him one lifedebt. He would take back Slytherin commons by himself if he had to and reclaim glory for himself and his house. It actually might be better that Blaise was gone. Now he would have to share that glory with no one. Briefly, he was tempted to do it alone and use the lifedebt to make Granger publicly humiliate Blaise. That'd teach him.
The image of Hermione slapping Blaise in front of the entire school put a feral smile on Draco's face. He'd even go so far as to -shudder- kiss the little swot, just to see the look of betrayal on Blaise's face. But Pansy would have his balls faster than blinking if he did that. And in truth, he doubted anything could make him vindictive enough to kiss Granger. Well, maybe if she was wearing those shorts.
Regardless, Zabini deserved some vengeance inflicted upon him.
The plot, however, was much too transparent. He needed Hermione to make the potion, as he very much doubted he could do it alone. There was also the fact that his best subject was charms, not transfiguration. He needed her for this and his revenge could wait.
Walking towards the portrait hole, he decided it was time to reclaim his pride and himself. He had to concentrate if he was to accomplish everything he'd set out to do. He didn't have time for sentiments and fantasies of revenge. He was Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin from a long and prestigious line of pure blooded Slytherins. He had to reclaim his house.
"Welcome home." He sneered at the fat lady, his voice full of disdain. He wouldn't be saying that for a long time, not if he had his way.
Stepping through, he saw the common room is disarray as people packed last minute items in preparation to board the Hogwarts express. People looked up as they caught sight of him and slowly everyone was staring at him. He snarled in reply, and they quickly went back to their previous occupations.
"Draco?" Pansy was looking at him strangely. "What happened to your hair?"
Draco remembered and scowled.
"Where's Granger?" He asked bluntly, not to be taken off target. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Pansy's lips tightened and she jabbed a finger in the direction of the girl's staircase. "Would you fetch her, please?" He added politely, though his voice was still agitated.
A frowning Pansy made her way up the girls' staircase to find the insufferable muggle-born.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Finally." Muttered a very annoyed Draco Malfoy, when Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny came into the boy's dormitory.
When Hermione caught sight of Draco, she stopped dead- her eyes going wide. His hair reached his mid back, just like it had done in the disturbing dreams that had woken her. She'd thought it was an aberration, or some sort of distortion of her unconscious mind, but seeing him standing there exactly like he'd looked in her dreams was as shocking as it was gratifying. Shocking because the lifedebt was solidifying and gratifying because she now knew it was the lifedebt and not the beginnings of insanity as she'd originally supposed.
"You didn't have to bring Twiddle Dee, Twiddle Dumb and Twiddle Dumber you know. It might've sped things up if you didn't." Draco sneered, breaking her of her trance.
"Oi!" Ron ground out. "In case you haven't noticed Malfoy, we live here."
"Besides, Granger was the one who wanted to catch breakfast and write a novel before starting." Pansy said irritably.
"I wasn't writing a novel! It was just a small letter." Hermione snapped back, feeling just as irritated from the combination of sleeplessness and dream fulfillment. "And if either one of you were competent at potions, you wouldn't care what I did, so belt up and deal with it."
Every Harry and Ron seemed a little taken aback by Hermione's sudden belligerent nature. She never snapped at anyone that badly unless it was exam time.
"Let's just get to work." Pansy suggested, in an attempt to keep the peace. The effect was diminished by her set jaw, however.
"Show me what you've done so far." Hermione ordered imperiously, and swept over to the make-shift potions lab :D -->in a likeness attributed to only Professor Snape.
Blaise had camouflaged the table and items upon it so that those outside of the "inner circle" couldn't see it. In the center of the table was a cauldron full of murky white potion, still bubbling venomously with the addition of the basilisk tooth.
"Blaise just added the basilisk tooth two nights ago, in preparation for the black moon tonight." Draco informed everyone.
"So either we do this without him, or scrap this batch." Hermione said "Well, it's a good thing he left this." She set the emerald box down onto the potion's table and removed the lid.
"What is – " But before Draco could finish his question, Hermione handed him the note Blaise had left on the box.
After Draco had finished reading it he said, "He should be sorry, cowardly git."
Hermione gritted her teeth in anger, but held back a retort.
"So, we need a third." Draco said.
"Didn't you read the – " Hermione began, but Draco cut her off.
"And you just automatically trust his instructions? He's no potions master."
"He's better at potions than the both of us combined." Hermione easily returned. "And yes, I believe him. Why would he lie?"
"To mess me up?"
"You're certainly full of yourself. Blaise wants his dorm back the same as you do. He's not so immature as to mess up a perfectly good shot at getting what he wants just to make you look bad." Draco snorted.
"You think you know him. It's really comical." Draco sneered. "I can't wait till you lot find out."
"Draco!" Pansy snapped in warning, cutting off the question on Hermione's tongue. "Look," She said more patiently, "messing the potion would probably give the drinker some bad side effects. I..." Pansy swallowed, not wishing to give away the fact that she knew there was no lifedebt between the two, but also wanting Draco to be reassured of the advice. "I don't think Zabini would mess a potion he knew Hermione would be drinking."
Hermione blushed.
"Well, I hardly think that's the reason. He just wants to go back to Slytherin commons, that's all." Hermione said.
"I agree with Pansy." Ginny piped in. Harry and Ron nodded as well and Hermione's blush darkened.
"Although I wouldn't mind helping... if you wanted me to." Harry said cautiously. Draco scowled. That's all he needed was for perfect Potter to step up and help; talk about a glory hound. No, if they were so sure this option was safe, and plausible, than that's what they'd do.
"I don't need you, Potter." Draco hissed.
"The empathy magic will need to be cast tonight under the shade of the black moon. Then the potion will awaken at sunrise tomorrow morning." Hermione said, trying to bring them all to task. "The dragon blood is the last ingredient added, so we can decide later what we will do."
"How long until the potion is complete and we can cast the foundation magic?" Draco asked.
"Three or Five days, maybe more. It depends."
"Blaise said he could've brewed it in a week, it's already been three days since we started." Draco said, annoyed.
"Yes, I'm sure he probably could've. Blaise has a Potions Master for a mother and probably knows a lot of methods for speeding up brew times. I, on the other hand, do not. I have to go the normal pace." Hermione snapped back. Draco scowled, but nodded.
"Get to it then." commanded Draco.
"Excuse me Malfoy, these aspen leaves aren't going to cut themselves! You get to it. It's your dorm." Hermione returned.
"What the hell has crawled up your arse and died Granger?" Draco spat.
"Hmmm… Maybe it's the fact that I'm stuck spending my vacation with you when I had alternative plans OR the fact that shortly our minds will be as one. OR possibly, it's just the actualization of six years ill treatment on your part. Payback is a bitch Malfoy, remember that."
Everyone in the room gapped at Hermione. Even her friends shared expressions of surprise.
Harry tentatively came over to her from where he'd been perched on his bed, and touched a hand to her shoulder. Her face was dark with anger, and her body was stiff.
"Hermione,.. what..?" Harry began, but she just shook her head. Afterall, how was she supposed to explain how weird it was being woken in the night by highly inappropriate and embarrassing dreams of a long haired Draco Malfoy, only to rise and find him just as he was in her dreams. Well, she reminded herself- Not just as he was in her dreams, in the dream Draco's personality was always, at minimum, tolerable.
Harry's expression made it clear to her that the subject needed addressing. She pulled him close and murmured, in a meaningful voice, "I didn't sleep well."
Harry's eyes widened with understanding and he nodded. Hermione had told him the dreams had been bothering her and growing steadily worse, since the first dream she'd had about Malfoy.
"Well? Care to share with the rest of us?" Pansy asked, hoping Hermione would admit to the lack of lifedebt.
"Drop it." Harry snapped at Pansy, instantly annoyed on behalf of his friend. "Look," Harry began softly, turning his attention back to Hermione. "The sooner you get this done with the better." Hermione nodded. "Right!" Harry said brightly, "Let's get to work. What do you need me to do?"
"You can't help." Hermione said wearily. "The potion will remember who touched it when it wakes up. It will call out to the people who helped create it to drink."
"What? Are you telling me it's alive?" Harry asked.
"Not alive. Just aware. Only the drinkers can prepare the potion. Blaise will feel the call when the potion is done. I don't know what the consequences will be for him, but he knows a lot more than I do about all of this. He said it was alright to do it without him, so I suppose he'll be ok." Hermione responded.
"Wait! Wait! Explain to me how a potion becomes aware." Said Ron.
Draco made an impatient noise.
"Well, it's complicated, but also simple." Hermione began.
"That's a typical Hermione explanation for you." Ron replied smarmily.
"Magic… All magic is aware. The same way a Fidelius Charm protects a secret, so too does this work. A Fidelius Charm can sense the knowledge of the secret inside a person and can thus discriminate between who can and cannot know what is hidden. It's just a charm, but it is aware. That is the nature of empathy magic, except that, as the name implies, the magic is also able to feel.
"This particular potion utilizes empathy magic to bind the drinkers' minds together as one. The potion must be given magical awareness to feel what the drinker feels and knows. Using that magic, it transfers those thoughts and feelings to the other drinker, and creates a bridge between the minds for as long as the potion remains in their systems."
"But if empathy is the nature of all magic, why is the empathy spell a guild kept trade secret?" Ginny asked.
"Awareness is the nature of all magic, but not empathy. Magic is aware. It chooses its followers, but it does not discriminate with emotion like a person does. If it did, I expect there would be no squibs and no muggleborns. Magic would know the problems it causes by dividing families into the different worlds." Draco supplied in a drawl, but he didn't look at anyone as he said it.
Hermione sniffed disapprovingly.
"Well, I agree with the squib part, but not the muggleborn part. If muggleborns weren't possible, the magical community would die out." She said.
"Not if wizards intermarried with muggles and always had magical children." Pansy said.
"Oh, are you going to go marrying a muggle then, Parkinson?" Ginny asked with a smile. There was a pause and the irritation factor in the room rose considerably.
"Back on task, now." Draco demanded and turned his attention to the aspen leaves.
"Magical theory is a topic argued about by the greatest minds of our world. You can't just write off the awareness of magic as having no empathy or even intelligence. It must, because magical empathy and magical intelligence exist." Hermione returned, ignoring Draco's request for pertinence.
"Owls." Harry said. "They're smart, can understand humans, and know where to go without directions or training. Is that…"
"Yes, the animal training guild employs magical empathy. Charlie told me." Ron said.
"So why didn't you just ask Charlie for the spell." Pansy snapped at Hermione.
"You told me 'The Plan' the same night as we started brewing the Dormis Veritas potion. You never gave me the option of asking around!" Hermione spat.
"Plus, the guild secrets are protected by charms so that guildsmen can't give them out." Ron said. Ginny nodded in agreement.
"Fred and George tried everything to pawn some of the secrets off Charlie, but even under spells and potions, Charlie couldn't and wouldn't give it out." Ginny said.
"But then how did Blaise…" Harry began to ask.
"Look, if you all are going to keep talking you can go downstairs." Draco snapped at all of them. "Because in case you haven't noticed, this has got to be the most difficult potion to work in existence here, and it's really hard to concentrate with you lot carrying on like a swarm of midges."
"We're not leaving you alone with Hermione." Ron said with finality.
"Then. Shut. UP." Draco snapped back.
The room fell silent, aside from the scraping of Draco's knife against the cutting board. Hermione reluctantly took up her post next to Draco and the group watched the two students work.
Draco had to continuously put down his knife to fling his newly acquired hair behind his shoulder with great irritation. Hermione ignored him and continued work with the thyme. The slice-slice-slice- scrape-CLUNK swoosh-scrape-slice sounds of Draco as he attempted to shred the aspen leaves with care, but had to continuously set down the knife to relieve his face of the blond strands became the rhythm of the room for a time.
Harry, smiling slightly as he rocked back and forth to the inadvertent beat, began to hum to himself in a tune that was strangely familiar to all the occupants of the room.
Slice-slice-slice-scrape-CLUNK-swoosh-scrape
Ginny smiled at him, also picking up on what was going on, and in her boredom she joined in humming the same tune. The two leered as Pansy gritted her teeth. Ron had to stifle a snort when Harry intentionally started humming out of tune, and made Pansy wince.
Slice-slice-slice
"Weasley will make sure we win…" Harry sang quietly. Ginny and Ron snorted.
Scrape-CLUNK
Then silence fell upon the room.
Hermione looked up to see a prone Draco, his fists clenched and his teeth barred.
"Get. Out." Draco hissed, his body still directed to the wall, as he faced the potion's table.
"I already said…." Ron began, but stopped when Draco spun on his heel, wand drawn and raised.
"I SAID GET OUT!" He roared. There was silence for a time as the Gryffindors in the room stared at the poised-for-violence-pureblood.
"Weasley is our king…" Ginny sang quietly, breaking the silence.
Draco roared with anger and Harry and Ron burst out laughing.
"That's enough," said Hermione with irritation. She sighed, not wanting to do anything to alleviate Malfoy's well deserved pay back, but also not wanting to botch the potion.
Harry and Ron fell silent, and looked up at Hermione, still smiling.
"We'll be quiet. I just couldn't resist one shot, you know?" Harry said. And it was true. Harry and Draco's positions were now reversed; Draco normally played the annoying antagonist, while Harry silently seethed until exploding. There was a delicious irony in driving Draco mad with the song he'd created and made popular.
"It'll be really boring just watching us make a potion all day. I'll be alright, you lot can go down stairs." She said.
"We're not leaving you alone with them." Ron sneered at Pansy, who glared right back.
"Then take her with you, please." Hermione said, a slight smile twisting her lips at Pansy's look of indignation. She turned her incredulous face towards Draco, who gave her a sympathetic look. Huffing, she spun towards the exit and stomped out.
"Potter! Weaslies! Get a move on!" She called from half way down the stairs.
Ron was giving Hermione a worried look. She nodded to him reassuringly.
"I can manage Malfoy." She told them.
"At least we can torment Parkinson." Harry said with a smile, getting to his feet. He was glad to be getting off the hook, not really wanting to spend the next few days trapped in his dorm watching people practice his least favorite subject.
They left.
"I wasn't expecting you to ask Pansy to leave as well." Hermione murmured in their wake.
He didn't respond; he merely turned back to his work, only pausing to flick his hair from his face.
Hermione too went back to the table. A glint of gold amongst the aspen leaves caught her eye and she immediately held up her hand to make Draco stop.
"What?" He snapped, but she hadn't taken her eyes off what she saw. She reached down and plucked from the carefully shredded pile of leaves, a single golden hair.
Holding it between her fingers carefully, so that it caught the glow of the snow from outside, she held it up.
"You nearly ruined the potion, that's what." She hissed. Draco barred his teeth.
"You've got your bloody boyfriend to thank for all this hair."
"Then let's cut it off." She returned, waiving her knife.
"I'm going to get it cut as soon as I can." He said levelly. "I'm not going to let you near it."
"You really are a vain prat aren't you?"
"Not vain, and not stupid either. What kind of idiot would I have to be to let you cut my hair? You'll make me look like some kind of pill."
"You do that fine on your own." She repressed a smile. He must not be concentrating to walk right into a fine insult like that.
"There is also the disgust factor of having you come into contact with me." Draco gave an exaggerated shudder. Hermione scowled. "Or was that your hope?" He leered unpleasantly. "I understand, of course, being around Potter and Weasley all the time… you want to get your hands on a real man." Draco grimaced slightly at her, apparently picturing it. "Anyway, you're hardly in any position to talk about hair with that rat's nest on your head."
"First of all, I doubt ferrets are worthy of the title of 'men' much less 'real men.' Second of all, you don't see my hair sprinkled all over the table! And finally, I can't imagine a circumstance in which I would want to touch you. I've gotten enough pureblood germs, thank you." Draco scowled.
"Hepatyphus comes from muggles, I don't care what Zabini said." Then he smirked. "Besides, I'm not the one who goes around forcing herself on purebloods. First you snog Zabini, then you hug me. Why can't quit your ladder climbing and accept your status as the gutter dwelling scab you are?"
Hermione threw down her cutting tool and her face turned a furious shade of red.
"WHAT! Excuse me!"
"Um, did I stutter? No, I don't think I did." Draco smirked again. She gritted her teeth.
"You are just insulting me to distract me from the fact that you have no counter argument. If hepatyphus was carried by muggles, than muggle borns would ALL die in infancy. Face it, Malfoy, it's a wizarding disease carried by wizards alone and you purebloods are going to wind up killing off the rest of us. You don't want to take the blame, so instead you blame muggles."
"Wouldnta caught it if you'd kept your hands to yourself." He pointed out self satisfyingly.
"I'd just like to express how pathetic you are. Coming off so mean and nasty just 'cause you're sore for losing a fight." Draco's mouth opened in rage. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't take your complete inability to duel out on me. Thank you."
"Why you filthly little-"
"Mudblood. Yes, yes, get some new lines."
"Actually, I was going to call you a repugnant inbreed of a beaver, a squirrel and Aberforth Dumbledore, but mudblood works too."
"Aberforth Dumbledore? The goat charmer?" Hermione gasped, but couldn't help the grin that twisted her face. "That was low, Malfoy, even for you."
He smirked, then scowled remembering her comment on dueling.
"And! Any idiot could see that I am an exquisite duelist. Zabini has no style; he's all brute force and no grace." Hermione had to concede the point, though she gave no outward appearance of agreement.
Draco's finishing moves had been powerful and strategic, requiring great amounts of concentration, logic and multitasking. While Blaise's spells only required a great amount of power, Draco's spells could not be performed by someone with a weak mind. Hermione was sure that Blaise could do whatever Draco could, and more, if he desired. Malfoy was just showing off. Still, if winning were a matter of scoring points for difficult spells, then the outcome might've been different.
The stronger survived, however, as it is with nature and war.
"Sit." Hermione commanded. He raised his brows at her. "On the bed. I can't do this standing up." She pointed to the furniture.
"I'm not letting you near my hair!" He insisted.
"I'm not going to cut it; I'll only tie it back."
"You'll still have to touch me to do that."
"Fine, ruin the potion. It's your dorm. Or better yet!" Hermione smiled slyly and with a sharp jab of her wand conjured what looked to Draco to be a small bundle of very thin string. "Here." She offered it and he took it.
"What's this?" He asked pulling at the webbed string, and finding that it stretched.
"A hair net." Hermione said, unable to suppress her mirth.
Draco gave her a very cold look and sat down heavily on his own bed as though it were the last thing on earth he'd like to do. Secretly, Hermione was happy to see him do so. She disliked Draco more than anyone else she'd ever met, including Pansy. She loathed the idea of touching him, but she'd always secretly harbored a small amount of awe for the boy's hair, which was always perfect with seemingly no effort. She'd now be able to experience the texture and thickness. She reached out, smiling, and pulled hard.
"OW! What the hell!"
"Hmm… pretty strong. But it's thinner than I thought it would be." She said, running her fingers through it more gently but carefully avoiding touching his scalp, neck or back.
"Get on with it." He demanded.
Hermione obliged to shut him up. She carefully separated the hair into three bunches, secretly enjoying herself. His hair was undeniably soft and silky and much longer than Hermione's own. She was quite jealous. She pulled the bunches together at the base of his skull and wound them into a very tight plat, fastening the end with a rubber band she pulled from her supply around her wrist.
"There." She stepped away from him immediately, and went back to the table without a backwards glance. Draco reached behind his head and felt the plait tentatively, before scowling and joining her at the table.
"You've probably made me look like a bloody girl." He muttered as he worked.
"I pity the girl who looks anything like you." She returned easily.
"And I repeat, you're hardly in any position to talk. I mean, have you looked in a mirror lately Granger?" He grimaced. "I understand if you try to avoid them."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Where as you probably carry around a hand mirror where ever you go, you self obsessed, egomaniacal nancy."
The bickering persisted as the two continued to work, but Hermione was glad of it. It was better than stony silence. But more than that, it was comforting in its familiarity. The sun would rise, the stars would shine, and Draco Malfoy would always be a total and complete prat.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The blinking stars were all that were there to greet Draco and Hermione as they ventured outside to cast the empathy magic in the shade of the black moon. The evening was unnaturally bright despite the lack of moon light, because the snow reflected and magnified what little light existed a thousand fold, making the grounds take on an ethereal glow.
Tonight they would cast the empathy magic that would bring the potion into awareness. After the awakening of the Synergy Potion, there would be no turning back. The potion would call upon them to drink. From the moment the potion woke, the preparation of it would become exponentially more difficult.
The difficulty of the potion was the only reason Hermione was glad that they'd left it's creation till the holidays. True, she'd forgone any chance of a real vacation, and the opportunity to do some much needed research on possible ways of finishing Voldemort, but at least it wouldn't interfere with her required studies.
The night was excruciatingly cold, but the glow of the grounds kept it from seeming too creepy. Hermione was glad of it. She wouldn't want to be stuck outside with Malfoy, while feeling afraid and having only him for company.
As it was, she was standing with her back flush against his chest, walking very slowly and carefully under the invisibility cloak. She was levitating the potion in front of her, as close to her person as possible. Draco had his arms extended to keep the cloak around the levitating cauldron as well, forming a cocoon around them as he hunched over Hermione and the potion.
They had to walk carefully, ensuring Hermione didn't loose her concentration and drop the potion, and that no stray limbs were exposed from the protection of the cloak. It was particularly difficult to remain still, as they were both shivering from the cold. They continued at a painfully slow pace down the stone steps into the grounds, the snow crunching underfoot as they strayed from the path, on their way into the forest. They would need the cover of the trees to remain exposed on the grounds while they cast the magic.
Hermione's unease increased as they grew closer to the forest. There was little snow on the forest floor as the trees thickened and the darkness seemed to close in around them. A few meters in they were able to remove the cloak and step away from each other, for which they were both grateful.
They'd already been forced into each others awkward company the entire day. Even with the sufficient distraction of the potion, it was still time they spent alone together. They had to be careful not to let their eagerness for the whole affair to be over with cloud their ability to make the potion properly, the effects could be devastating other wise.
Though he was not the one suffering under the strain of a life debt, Draco was even more eager to finish the entire business than Hermione. He simply wanted his life to go back to normal. Ever since his father had been put into jail, he'd felt the familiarity of his life slipping away from him. He'd had more change in his life already than he'd ever cared to have, and was not eager for anymore.
He had hoped, initially that he could seek out a new way of gaining completion and contentment in the circumstances that fate was forcing on him. His complete discomfort with the results of every effort put forth, however, had proven him wrong. Now, he simply desired the comfort of normalcy. Soon, he hoped, he would be back in Slytherin commons and away from the Gryffindors and all the discomforting feelings associated with them and with her.
Hermione, herself, was setting the cauldron down onto a level spot of earth that was open to the sky. Draco watched her idly, half lost in his own fantasies of the end result of this pseudo-torture. His eyes lost focus as he indulged in yet another day dream over the triumphant and grateful faces of his house members as he led them back to the Slytherin commons; never again would they look down on him as they had since his father went to jail and he'd saved Granger's life. He could picture every inch of their common room, and soon, he knew, he'd be able to come into it and think to himself, "I did this."
"Malfoy, we're ready." Hermione's chilled voice interrupted his musings.
"Right." He muttered in reply, and took his place across from her.
They stood on either side of the cauldron, looking at each other awkwardly.
"So.. Only one of us has to cast the empathy magic right?" He queried.
"Yes, that's right." She removed a small muggle note book from her pocket and perused it in the semi-darkness. "The person who casts the magic will be the base for the potion. Their blood will make up the greater proportion, and their mind will play host to the other drinkers' minds."
"What does that mean exactly?" Draco asked, as he considered making her do it.
"I expect it means that the base will have the dominant mind when the drinkers' minds are united." Hermione said, frowning and looking over her notes again. "There isn't much information on empathy magic because of the guild's secretive nature, so I can't really say much more than that."
"Right. I'll cast it then." He said, and took the notebook she offered.
There on the lined page was an inscription in Latin in Hermione's neat handwriting, although he could tell she had been shaking as she wrote it. He'd memorized the words already, but read the paper as he said them just to be safe.
More important than the actual incantation, was the meaning of the worlds, which the caster had to hold in his or her heart.
'THE MOON was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she hides her perfect face
From the world below'
He raised his wand and pointed to the sky.
'If Aims impel these Astral Ones,
The Ones allowed to know,
Know that which makes them as forgot
As Dawn forgets them now'
He made a circular motion, which seemed to stir the trees around them in an ethereal wind.
'EACH that we lose takes part of us
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.'
He moved his wand fluidly over the potion, and the magical wind around them picked up, carrying dancing snow like the foam of the ocean's wave.
'THE MOON is distant from the sea,
And yet with amber hands
She leads him, docile as a boy,
Along appointed sands.'
The snow that swirled around them took shape, like hundreds of hands reaching out between Draco and the potion. The murky white mixture seemed to stir in the wind.
'My words the amber hand,
And thee the distant sea,
Obedient to the least command
Our eyes imposed on thee'
As though a drop of water had fallen into the infusion, the surface of the potion rippled. Hundreds of wind made hands of snow caressed the cauldron and around Draco, as if to memorize the posture he took as he cast, the lines of his face, and the shape of his body. Nature was responding to the pact being made between caster and brew.
'the dawn will remember you
Awaken with its call
Create an Empath of us
All in one, and one in All.'
With the final pronouncement, the wind broke, dispersing outwards away from the potion and shaking snow from the trees. Following that, a stillness, so absolute it echoed, settled around the clearing.
Both Draco and Hermione could feel the sanctification of the moment and neither breathed for fear of breaking it. As it became apparent neither of them was going to spontaneously combust, Draco let out his breath and turned away from Hermione- who was looking at him as though he had grown wings.
Hermione herself was completely dazzled by the display of magic she'd just witnessed. Never before had she been privy to a spiritual summoning. It was deep, touching and disturbing; the last mainly due to the person she'd shared the moment with.
It had been more than disconcerting to watch the snow dance around Malfoy like sun through branches in the wind. The wind had undone his long hair from its braid and caused it to swirl around him. The whiteness of his hair became indistinguishable from the icy flakes around it. It made him look beautiful and beauty contradicted everything she'd ever come to associate with him.
She closed her eyes and reminded herself of all the reasons Draco Malfoy was not attractive. With a split second's reminder, she had return her opinion of him to a comfortable level of disgust, and was able to open her eyes again without feeling the sickness of an attraction she knew defied the laws of nature.
"We're done here." She said icily, as though he'd planned this.
"Right, so we just leave it out here?" He asked quietly.
"Yes, it's got to sit out here until the sun rises. We'll need to be here to see it happen and take it inside straight away to put it back on the fire." He nodded.
Hermione held up the invisibility cloak.
"Let's get back inside then."
With a great deal more awkwardness than when they'd first had to don the cloak, they stepped near each other and covered themselves for the walk back to the castle.
Poems by Emily Dickenson
I used four abstractions of her poems in combination. Here are the original versions:
(1) THE MOON was but a chin of gold / A night or two ago, And now she turns her perfect face / Upon the world below
(2)THE MOON upon her fluent route Defiant of a road / The stars Etruscan argument, Substantiate a God. / If Aims impel these Astral Ones, The Ones allowed to know/ Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now
(3)EACH that we lose takes part of us;/ A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night/ Is summoned by the tides.
(4)THE MOON is distant from the sea/ And yet with amber hands / She leads him, docile as a boy/ Along appointed sands. / He never misses a degreeObedient to her eye/ He comes just so far toward the town/ Just so far goes away. / Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand/ And mine the distant sea,—Obedient to the least command / Thine eyes impose on me
6/17/05 I'm back: Yeah, it really doesn't feel like 15 pages when I read it. The next chapter is super huge and took me forever to write- but it's written and with my beta- Sunny. Ok, I said the same thing last chapter and it still took me forever to get this one out- that's because I like to have the following chapter completely done before I post one. So, I wasn't going to post 16 till 17 was finished.
Up next: Who is Blaise Zabini – well, we may never know, but we will find out what he is.
Special thanks: First, to my beta Sunny. Second, to my reviewers, especially those of you who have reviewed EVERY CHAPTER since you started reading. I like to know who is staying with me.
General responses: I'm very appreciative of the 390 reviews I have for this story, but that means that 129 people reviewed chapter 15, which is great, but it makes it hard to do individual responses, so here are the general ones:
Romantic pairing: OK, I'm about to go off on a rant here. This is a Dramione story and that is not changing. I don't think that it "ruins" my plot to make it a dramione story, either. I'm sorry that some reviewers are getting melodramatic with my chosen pairing, but I really don't see a story titled "SAVING DRACO MALFOY" featuring a BZ/HG pairing, thanks.
If you've been reading my other authors notes you'll see I'm putting together a Blaise/Hermione plot- for all you BH fans, I have two plots on the table that I'm discussing with my beta. Both will require a lot of time so I won't start that till SDM is finished. I'll probably be asking your opinion about which plot to pursue once I get outlines written.
Virginity: Yeah, I'm happy I had a lot of people support me on my sex god rant- but, er… as you can see from my profile, I am married so there really is no need to encourage me to protect my virginity as its long gone. Attempts to persuade me into abstinence are severely pissing off my husband- --laughter---. 5/25 was my two year anniversary. For all of you who are not married- save your selves! And look out for Morgan Sinistra's feminazi rants against men- it'll give you a glimpse into why I feel the way I do.
Other prohibited phrases:
Since my Sex God rant was so well received, I'm going to go out on a limb and propose some other phrases that need to be stricken from fanfiction.
the use of the word "ponce" to mean "homosexual." "Ponce" means pimp, in British slang, not fag. (see dictionary dot com if you don't believe me)
Blond v. blonde v. Blondie – please note a grammar rule. 'Blonde' cannot be used for males. It's a gender specific word. Females cannot be blond. A Blondie is a type of dessert which resembles a cookie. I break tons of grammar rules when it comes to punctuation but at least I KNOW I'm doing it- right Sunny!
The overuse of the word "hot." Seriously, how many times do you use the word "hot" in a week? The way I seeing it being used by fiction characters makes me think their entire dictionary of adjectives was taken from Paris Hilton. Get a grip. Not everyone and everything is "hot," in fact- most things are not "hot"- they are everything ranging from the negation of "hot" to the antithesis of "hot." In fact, all variations of the word HOT also need to be stricken. "Hottie," "hotness," and other forms of "hot" should be cause for immediate hitting of the "back" button. I also detest the overuse of the words: sexy, muscular, developed, voluptuous, cut, curvy, and did I mention hot?
The description of body parts that makes it painfully obvious you've never seen it. Urg- it's not that I'm encouraging you to visit porno sites in order to be able to properly understand what something looks like in order to describe it- It all goes back to my complete inability to believe that high school students are sexually active enough to substantiate fictions with blatant over uses of the word "hot" and necessitate a description of genitalia so grossly inaccurate so as to make me believe wizards have undergone speciation. I'm going to be very frank with all you 14 year old slash fans: Penises are UGLY. They are very very ugly- they are really not pretty and they are most definitely not "hot."
Don't get me wrong- I am a very straight female with a straight and "hot" husband- but TRUST ME on this: Men look better with their boxers ON.
By this time you are probably going- hey! That's my story! And are slowly moving your cursor down to the "report abuse" option. To this I have to say that you are taking me entirely too seriously AND, if you do that, you'll never know the end of my story will you? I write these authors notes simply because I have no talent for writing humorous stories (as made evident by summer days) but I so desperately want to spread the sarcasm.
Questions answered:
Who is the girl from chapter 13- Is she Draco's former girlfriend that Blaise stole from her? - To those of you who picked up on that hint, my answer is: yeah something like that. You'll see, I won't leave you hanging on that front
Is Blaise the son of Voldemort? I really considered this angle and I actually found a way to work something like this into the plot, but I cut out the entire angle because the story is called "Saving Draco Malfoy" not "Getting to know Blaise Zabini" and I can't spend so much time on the non-hero. You'll find out who Blaise's dad is in the next chapter- or something like that.
Why is Blaise hot/cold and a Loner? Erm, more hints next chapter.
Draco's hair "melting" – Yes, hair actually does melt and it makes a terrible smell when it does it too. Trust me on this folks, I was a pyromaniac when I was a kid and I must've blown up every Barbie doll I owned by the age of 10- I could find a way to make ANYTHING combust- sometimes at the expense of my hair and clothes. It must be the arab in me.
I'm very easily discouraged. I had one flame on Summer Days and I gave up writing it and will delete it. I need a lot of encouragement while writing chapter 18, because I have NO motivation so please review!