Divine Vitality
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter characters and such. Recognition and ownership of such belongs to the wonderful author, J.K. Rowling. (I love you!)
Chapter 5: Not Exactly a Turn-On
Written by melancholic orchid
She sat cross-legged on the soft scarlet hearth rug by the warming fire. Its flames spat sparks and roared with the harmonious crackling of the wood. Hermione rested her Muggle novel in her hands – her eyes tracing each significant letter that painted the pages of such art. Such romantic art.
Often, she would dream of love, replacing the character in the story with her own self. It was adorable in her delusions but she had no intention of seeing any of it coming true in her reality. After all, she was immensely occupied with her education.
Suddenly, a persona stepped through the portrait hole holding a roll of parchment. "Harry!"
"Hey, Hermione."
"What's that you're holding?"
"Oh this?" he asked, holding up the paper. She nodded.
"Yeah. Um… I was to give this to you. It's from Professor McGonagall." He handed her the piece of parchment.
"Hmm…" she said, "I wonder what she needs to tell me." She unravelled it. The fine print was nothing like Professor McGonagall's hand. It was her mother's. The note was randomly splashed with tears which faded out some of the words.
Dear Hermione,
I have extremely grave news. Your father had di-
The rest of the word was blotched out with a single tear.
in a tragic car accident.
Hermione guessed 'di-' meant 'died'. Died!
Please come home soon, dear, in time for the funeral.
Mom
Her father – her loving friend – died. Tears filled her sad hazel eyes.
"Hermione?"
"Oh, Harry!" she replied, quickly brushing the tears away on the sleeve of her sweater, still clutching onto the letter. "I forgot you were still here! How silly of me!"
"You all right?"
"I'll be okay. Thanks. I just need a bit of thinking and some rest."
"Oh, okay." He looked unconvinced but left the conversation at that.
She tucked the letter in her book then hoisted herself up from the floor.
"G'night, Hermione," he said. A pang of concern was present in his tone.
"Pleasant dreams, Harry." She then took off to venture the stairs to her dorm.
"Hermione?"
She immobilized herself on the third step. "Yes?" she said, curving to head toward him.
"If – If you want to tell me anything, you know, I'm apt to hear you out."
"Of course. Thank you." Inaudibly, she turned her back at Harry and climbed the steps to her room. I'm going home.
Back in the comfort of her dorm space, she pulled out a suitcase from under her four-poster bed and laid it open, stuffing clothes and other items for the trip back home to her Muggle world – except, it wouldn't be the same. Nothing. Nothing after that letter – that's clutched in her hands – would ever be the same for Hermione Granger.
Knowing that no one was sharing the quiet premises with her, she let those throbbing tears flow freely from her mourning eyes and buried her face in her hands which held the letter. Even she, a noble lioness of Gryffindor, could still cry and be weak.
In Potions that day, Hermione struggled through class, thinking up a plan to tell Draco while concentrating on perfecting her concoction. Once in a while, she would take a quick glance at him, hoping that that would devise a plan.
How am I going to tell him? He always has his gang of fools.
A ring of the bell dismissed the whole class.
"A fifteen-inch parchment essay about the history and purpose of extract of Night-star is due tomorrow." Students grumbled and complained about their already tormenting work load.
She took her book bag and followed after Pansy out the wooden door. This is definitely not going to be easy.
"Um – Malfoy," she said, approaching the posse of Slytherin students.
"Ooooo! Granger's got a crush on Draco!" the Slytherins tantalized.
"Well you're too late, Granger!" Pansy squealed loudly, "He's mine!"
The students laughed, pointing fingers at her. More comments came her way but she shut her ears from the noise.
"No, actually I would never dream of taking a fancy for Malfoy. I just need to talk to him about Head duties." Hermione tried to keep her voice strong. Don't listen to them! Just get it over with!
"Sure you are!" they kidded.
"So if you'll excuse us –"
"Since when did I agree that I will talk to you, Mudblood?" Draco speared.
"Since now, Malfoy."
"Well whatever you need to tell me, since it is about Head duties, I'm sure it's not a secret, so you can tell me here and now."
"Just get over here," she said through gritted teeth, angrily. Her face was reddening.
The band of Slytherins made the funny 'ooooo' noise again.
"Come on, Granger," Zachary Quell commented, "Let's see how red your face can get! Come on! Make Gryffindor proud by wearing your House colours!"
They all cackled loudly. Oh, Malfoy, you're such an idiot.
"I would like to speak with you alone."
His face crumpled up with aggravation seeing her there. "Fine." He separated himself with the mob of people.
"You better not be trying to make out with him!" Pansy threatened. Oh, puh-lease, Pansy, are you really that stupid? She had the urge to blurt it out but decided it was better left unsaid.
Again, the Slytherins laughed. Hermione was certain she would go insane if she had to endure their snorts again. She led him to a secluded crevasse.
"What do you want?" Draco asked menacingly.
"As of today, I will not be able to patrol the halls for the remainder of this week. Hopefully you will be much more content doing that alone. I know how much you would enjoy my inexistence."
"No kidding!"
"That's it." Hermione hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and ran off to the Great Hall.
"Hey, Granger!"
"What?"
"Why – Why won't you be around?"
She blinked. "It's nothing of your concern."
"Draco! Babycakes!" Pansy called out when he was in view. Apparently, all of the other Slytherins ditched him for lunch.
"Would you mind not calling me 'babycakes'?" he snarled.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she cooed, "I'll stop it from now on. What do you want me to call you?"
"Draco's fine," he said curtly.
"So what did she say, Drakie-boo?"
"She won't be able to patrol for the rest of the week. I don't know why." Her black eyes glinted cruelly.
"Didn't you ask her?" she asked, trying to regain her innocent voice.
"Yes. But she said it was none of my concern."
"Typical. Well, that's a good thing isn't it? I mean like she won't be annoying you for a week so it's a good thing."
"I might as well celebrate while I still can."
Pansy stared at him, mystified. "Drakie-boo! You seem distracted! What did she do to you?"
Not answering her question, he fumed. "Don't you get it woman?" he shouted, "It would be much obliged if you just stuck to the name Draco. Not 'babycakes'! Not 'Drakie-boo'! Draco! You get it? Draco! How bloody hard is it to remember that?"
"Not hard at all. I just love calling you different names. How do you like 'Drakie'? It sounds so cute!"
Taking the suitcase out to the front of the entrance, Hermione dropped it on the beige marble flooring. Biting her lip, she refrained herself from weeping, knowing her father – her friend, had moved on. But she had had enough sympathy from Ron and Harry. She hated how sometimes they would make her seem like she couldn't take care of herself – especially Ron.
"Oh, Hermione! Your father's dead? Oh, I'm so sorry! Will you be okay? It's okay if you start crying. Here's a tissue…"
That was enough to make her burst, but she couldn't do that to him. She's independent and seventeen – not to mention Ron needed the mothering for heaven's sake. Still, Ron did nothing wrong in particular – just a bit 'over sympathetic'.
All in all, things went as planned for Hermione. She was grateful she was able to leave while everyone was eating supper. If everyone knew, there'd be people who will pity or laugh and she seriously didn't want such a thing at that moment.
Turning to her companions, she hugged them farewell.
"Good bye, Harry."
"I'm sorry."
"Please. Don't be sorry. This is just another stage in life I must – accept."
"Ahem!" Ron coughed loudly.
"Oh how could I forget about you?" He too received an embrace from her.
"Come back soon."
"We'll see how things –" She choked back emerging tears. "– turn out." With that, Hermione took her suitcase and disappeared out the door.
After supper, Draco entered the Head Tower and prepared himself for another night's work of patrolling – with the only difference of Hermione's absence. While re-adjusting his badge, Emerson swooped from the blackened sky and perched himself on the granite ledge by the windowpane.
"About time too!" he exclaimed, hearing the tapping noise of the owl's beak rapping the glass. "I'm coming!" Draco pried open the window and the pepper-grey bird flew inside. Once the letter was removed, he offered a small chocolate to Emerson which he took greedily.
Already, he was beginning to unravel the letter from his mother (the parchment smelled of her favourite scent) until his wand vibrated within his cloak, informing him it was time to commence his obligation as Head Boy. Grunting, he shoved the letter in his desk then exited the tower.
"Malfoy!" A figure jumped in front of him upon opening the mahogany door, causing much shock inside of him.
"Granger!" he gasped, "Wha – What on earth are you doing here? I thought – I thought you said you'd be gone for the rest of the week."
"Yeah," she said, "you're right."
"So doesn't that mean tonight as well?"
"You heard me wrong probably. I'm still here tonight."
This is extremely confusing. She wasn't even with Potthead and Weasel this evening.
"No. I swear you said –"
"Like I said, you probably heard me wrong," she interrupted. "Now come on! We're wasting time just standing here."
Draco swore with discontentment but deferentially went along with her. Oddly, she was leading him somewhere else – somewhere where they weren't to guard that night.
"Granger," he said, "Where are you going? We're going the wrong way." Mudblood's positively lost her mind today.
"Oh that's okay," she said, still walking ahead, then stopping that their destination.
"This is the Astronomy Tower," he declared.
"I'm not stupid, Dr – Malfoy. I know that this is the Astronomy Tower."
"But why are we here?"
"Don't we patrol this place too?"
"Yes but –"
"But?"
"Why are we here?" he repeated, heatedly.
"Perhaps this will answer your question," she said in a husky tone, inching closer toward him. Without notice she wrapped one arm around his pale neck, pulling him close, her mouth collided onto his – kissing him.
Oh good Lord! Mudblood's snogging me! Sick! No. It's not real. Just a nightmare. It's not real, he chanted to himself.
Confused, he fiercely shoved her away from him. "What the bloody hell was that for?" he bellowed, hand gripping tightly onto his wand.
She gave him one more impish grin and ran off laughing. Although he chased after her, to hex her, she vanished – not to mention he had no voice to jinx her, but instead he mentally swore and dashed off to cleanse himself from such terror.
A/N: Hmmm… suspicious. This is a very odd chapter but it is a lot better than the late Chapter 5. It's kind of confusing to why Hermione would rather stay and start kissing Draco and going to pay respects to her dead father… or so it seems.
Thanks to Lauren and Crodo for taking their time and editing my chapters, making them better. Also, thanks to my reviewers. Without your encouragement, I wouldn't be working on my stories – most likely.