Chapter 7: The Late Meeting
By Callisto Callispi
Hermione jumped when Filch slammed the door and waltzed happily into the classroom. He turned away calmly from Hermione and Draco, avoiding their eyes though they could see his. They were glittering gleefully.
"Well my pupils, shall we continue our happy detention?" he asked.
Filch reached down his desk to grab Mrs. Norris and stroked her back. The cat purred gently in response, but still twitched. However, Filch took no note of his cat, surprisingly, and stared off dreamily as he sat down. "Though my greatest wish is to split the two of you up to make your separate jobs a bit more challenging --"
The two students' eyes brightened at the suggestion.
But Filch wasn't finished. "-- It is just not possible as Professor McGonagall insisted that the two of you work together to increase the harmony."
The two slumped back in their chairs with another sigh and thought simultaneously, What harmony?
"For your next task," continued Filch. "I was to assign you to clean the dungeon halls. Horribly slimy they were. But those god-awful gremlins from the swamps came to feed, and now the halls are spick and rather clean . . ."
Draco spoke up. "So . . . er . . . to go easy on the first day, you will let us both go early?"
Filch laughed. "Goodness no!" He slapped his desk as if he had heard some brilliant joke. "What . . . what in the world gave you that absurd idea?" he managed to choke out in-between his laughs.
Draco's lips curled downward. "It was a faint hope."
Filch slowly sobered and began speaking.
"Head down into the Slytherin dungeons," he instructed. "There, you will find a rusty chest. Haul it up into the library and open the chest with this key." He displayed a shiny bronze key. "Inside, you will find books, and be careful not to rip them as they are valuable. If you do though, there will be a hefty price to pay. And do not attempt to use any of those charms on the chest. It is spell-proof until you empty it."
Hermione inwardly groaned. She had no desire whatsoever to continue working with Draco anymore tonight. Or any other night for that matter.
"After you take the books down into the library, head over to Madame Pince's cart for the new book arrivals. By color, carefully set them down. It will take a about an hour or so. If I find that you two have been lazy and didn't complete the task, I will personally go over to Professors Snape and McGonagall and inform them of your sloppy work."
Hermione slumped down deeper into her chair, hating Filch more and more by the passing second. She briefly glanced over at Draco only to see a scowl plastered on his face.
"And also, you can not use magic," continued Filch happily.
Draco suddenly sat up. "Why not?" he demanded.
Filch smiled and stroked Mrs. Norris' back once more. She purred. Her legs twitched. "Because, Mister Malfoy, as I have told you, the chest is resistant to magic. I suppose the books are also. The headmaster informed me of this but do point those despicable wands. It's your punishment, not mine."
Draco muttered something under his breath.
Filch ignored him, getting up. "Now, if you would so kindly remove yourselves from my office, all will be well."
Hermione immediately got up and so did Draco and walked out, glancing at the clock. It read '10:03' and next to it said 'To the Dungeons'.
Hermione glanced at Draco once more to see his face twisted with an angry frown. She kept to herself the whole time and did not say anything to Draco. Worries haunted her. She wondered how ever she would ever get her school work done. "During lunch I could get my assignments completed," she said out loud before she could stop herself.
"Good idea, Granger," said Draco sarcastically from next to her. "Or Binn's class would be nice. No one listens to him anyway," he said with a slightly arrogant gesture of his hand.
Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing better to listen to him. "Just like you," she said tentatively not knowing if she wanted to start a conversation with him. "Professor Binns gives out essays, and those are by far the most difficult to complete."
"He doesn't know what he is talking about himself. The students wouldn't understand one word that the old fart is saying," he mumbled then yawned.
Hermione felt her face break into a small grin. Despite his sarcastic tone, Hermione couldn't help but to agree with him a bit. "You're cruel."
"I'm a Malfoy, and I am in Slytherin. What do you truly expect?" said Draco dismissively.
Hermione tilted her lips upwards and didn't reply to that comment. She couldn't help thinking how detention would be a bit more bearable if the person next to her were a bit more agreeable like this.
In about ten minutes, the two reached the stairs of the dungeon. Hermione paused, a tingle of worry prickling her skin with goose bumps. It was awfully dark down there . . .
Draco, however, started his way down the stairs without any hesitation then stopped about halfway down. He looked up impatiently. "Well, Granger?" he called. "Are you going to come down here this century? I'd prefer to get this done and over with as soon as I possibly can."
When Hermione didn't answer, Draco's snarl got nastier. But she started down the steps silently. Draco leaned against the wall and watched her form descending down the steps. His snarl molded into an amused grin. "Are you all right walking down those dark scary stairs, Granger? Do you require any assistance?"
Hermione looked down at him, annoyed. "No thank you, Malfoy. How kind of you to ask."
"And they say that Gryffindors are the bravest of people . . . " was Draco's response.
After a few minutes the two entered the dungeon's main room. True to Filch's word, they found a huge rusty chest. It had once seemed to be made of iron and wood but because of age, the materials were almost rotted away.
The students gaped at what they saw though. The chest was squeezed in a corner by furniture and a grandfather clock. Hermione fell to her knees and groaned. "How can we get all of this junk off? Those things must weigh a ton!"
Draco, not one to be intimidated easily, took out his wand.
Hermione, noticing this, jumped up and snatched the wand from Draco's hand. "Are you mad? What are you doing?" she demanded.
Suddenly Hermione was regretting that she had yelled. The sound of her voice echoed about the dungeons, sending chills up her spine.
"Give me back my wand, Granger," Draco snarled, raising his voice also.
Hermione put a finger to her lips, handing back the wand. "Shh! Don't yell."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
Hermione thought about it for a second. She didn't want him to think that some echo had spooked her; oh that would be a great laugh. "Do you want to wake up the whole school?"
"Granger, this is the dungeon. The school is many, many stories above us. They probably couldn't hear someone going through bloody torture and murder here," said Draco.
"You know, that is so 'Slytherin' of you. 'Bloody torture and murder'; that's a nice. Very nice," snapped Hermione. She whipped around and walked over to an armchair. Taking in a deep breath, she gripped the handles and lifted it up a few inches before having to drop it down again.
Draco on the other hand stared at her incredulously. "Are you scared?"
Hermione blinked, trying fight down the flush flooding her cheeks. "O-of course not; of what would I be scared?"
Draco twirled the wand in between his fingers. He walked over to Hermione and grinned. "I don't know, Granger. Except that the fact that you were a bit jumpy while going down those stairs. And the fact that you're afraid of your own echo. Hm. I really don't know how I came to the conclusion that the oh-so-smart and oh-so-brave Gryffindor would actually be afraid of this corpse-ridden place."
Hermione turned. He smiled wryly at her. "Don't try to frighten me, Malfoy; it won't work. Besides, there are no corpses here."
"Oh I don't know," Draco said in a sing-song voice. "Corpses don't have to be out in the open to just be there you know. They could be buried up, or stacked in the walls or . . . even be under the tile you're standing on."
Hermione looked down and jumped back with a barely muffled scream escaping her lips. She instantaneously regretted doing that as she heard Draco's low chuckle. She glared at him. "You aren't very funny you know." She noticed that Draco still had the wand in his hand. "What are you doing? Put that wand away!"
"You know that with magic we won't have to move that furniture and that clock by hand, don't you?"
"Yes," said Hermione, irritated. "Of course I do, Malfoy. But didn't you hear what Filch had said? No magic."
Draco sighed exasperated. "He said not to use magic on the chest. Not the surrounding materials, Granger."
"But the chest is magic-resistant! What if the spells rebound back?" Hermione insisted.
Draco's lips twitched in annoyance. "It won't rebound Granger. And if it does, which it won't, what would matter? It just a 'feather-weight' charm."
Hermione stared at him sternly for a few seconds then sighed. "Fine, Malfoy. Do it your way, but make sure you take all the blame if the spell does rebound and causes any damage," said Hermione as she stepped away from the book.
Draco rolled up the sleeves of his robes up. "Don't worry, my dear Gryffindor -- I will make sure to make it seem as if you were the cause of all the trouble."
"Do cast the charm," said Hermione dryly.
Draco pointed his wand and muttered the incantation. Hermione crossed her fingers, hoping that Malfoy was right. A first for her. Expecting something, Hermione winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. She waited a few anxious moments. Nothing happened and the silence still loomed about the room. Draco lowered his wand.
"See?" he declared proudly. "I told you nothing would happen."
Rather die than admit that he was right verbally, Hermione pushed him out of the way and moved the furniture around. It seemed strange that those massive chairs that were probably about twenty times the weight of Hermione were being carried so easily in her hands.
After the clock and the furniture were put away, Hermione and Draco both lifted the heavy chest by the small handles attached to the side of the iron. But damn, was it heavy! Even with Hermione and Draco's strength combined, the could hardly walk more than ten steps.
Almost half an hour later, however, the two had managed to get out of the dungeons and up the stairs to the library.
Hermione's arms were burning with strain. The iron chest must have weighed a few hundred pounds. And that was only the chest. Inside were the books to be accounted for. Without warning, she dropped her end of the chest.
"Good God, Granger, you can't be tired already!" yelled Draco.
Hermione sat down on the carpeted floor and leaned her back against the chest for support. "We've carried this thing a long way, Malfoy. Let's just rest for a second."
Draco looked as if he were about to argue but soon gave in to the temptation of rest and sat down on the floor as well. "You know we rested a few minutes before."
Hermione massaged her shoulders. "Try twenty minutes ago, Malfoy." She was dreadfully tired and longed for bed. Any thoughts of finishing her school work when she got back to the Gryffindor commons fled her mind, chased away by the almost brutal desire for a long, dreamless slumber.
"All right, all right, enough of this nonsense," said Draco from behind her. "Get up so we can get this over with."
Hermione moaned but unwillingly got up nonetheless. She gripped the handle and hauled up the heavy chest. Slowly they once again progressed toward the library.
"I was thinking, Malfoy," said Hermione suddenly.
Draco grunted. "You do too much of that."
Hermione ignored him. "Do we have the key to the library? I don't recall Filch giving you or me one, and Madame Pince always locks up after eight o'clock."
"You worry too much, Granger," was Draco's response. "Alohamora."
"It doesn't work on the library lock, Malfoy."
"Well, Filch, that bastard, probably had Madame Pince keep the door unlocked. After all, he was probably scheming this detention hours before you or I came down there."
Hermione kept silent. She was starting to think that he was right once again but a thought struck her mind. "No!" she suddenly said.
Draco looked at her, surprised. "No what? What is it now?"
Hermione dropped the chest once more. Caught off guard, as Hermione always warned him beforehand when she was about to drop the chest, Draco had to jump back to avoid having his foot crushed by the chest.
"A little close, don't you think?" snapped Draco.
Hermione shook her head and said, "No, Malfoy, Filch wasn't planning this at all. Remember the slime that we were supposed to clean? Remember how the swamp gremlins had got to it before? What is this? We did all of that work for nothing?"
Draco huffed. "Calm down. I'm sure Filch unlocked the door or something. Let's just get to the library before jumping to conclusions. Now come on and hurry up. You aren't tired again are you?"
Hermione stamped her foot and glared at him. "What do you think, Malfoy? I'm stuck with you the whole night! My arms are aching from this chest, and yes I am tired. So tired I could fall asleep while carrying the chest. Aren't you?"
"Just carry that side," sneered Draco. "And don't think I enjoyed this night either. Being stuck with you is not the greatest thing in the world. If I had known it would be this damn unbearable, I wouldn't have even looked you at that stupid quidditch practice."
Hermione, cranky from the lack of sleep, dropped her side of the chest again.
Once more the chest just managed to miss Draco's foot. "Damn it, Granger, pick up the chest!"
Hermione glared. "You know what? Maybe this detention would be a bit more bearable if you acted human once in awhile."
Draco dropped the chest also. Her fists were clenched. "Human? Fucking human? I've been acting with nothing but courtesy this detention. You're lucky that I didn't hex you when I laid eyes on you tonight."
"Courtesy? Courtesy! You call spitting out 'mudblood' every other minute 'courtesy'?" Hermione demanded. "You're delusional!"
Draco wanted to slap her. This was all that he could expect from low-level mudbloods like her: scorn, anger, and childish accusations. "I'm not delusional," he spat out. "And why shouldn't I call you a mudblood? It's what you are, Granger. Live with it."
Hermione blinked. Her lips parted slightly, and Draco felt a cold surge of satisfaction chilling his body.
"Aw. You're hurt, aren't you?" he sneered. "Run away, Granger. Run away, and go cry your eyes out."
Her eyes narrowed. Draco felt sudden heat bubbling up in his throat as she straightened her back and walked towards the chest. She knelt and hauled up the case by the handles. Her words were cold, dripping with spite. "No use just standing here. Lift your side up."
Draco clenched his jaw. Could he not make her cry? How was he so unable to hurt her? Stiff with anger, he walked over to the chest and lifted the handle. He wished that he had never gotten out of bed yesterday. He wished that he and Hermione had never participated in that silly duel. It wasn't worth it.
After about four more rests and more sweating, grunting, and cursing, they finally approached the library doors. Draco heard Hermione sigh with relief as soon as she dropped the chest and grazed her fingers upon the smooth oak of the doors. He watched her briefly as she massaged her arms with a wince.
"Well, we didn't die getting this massive thing up," said Hermione, exhausted.
Draco didn't answer as he stifled a yawn and stretched his arms.
Hermione sat on the chest.
"Nuh-uh, Granger. Get up," he said. "We still have to carry this thing into the library."
Hermione looked up and Draco. Her eyes were rimmed with red. "You know, I'm shocked at your lack of manners."
"I'm actually a very polite person, Granger. You, I just like to anger."
Hermione stared at the doors to the library. "Tell me this, Malfoy. What are we going to do if those doors over there are locked?"
Draco pondered this for a moment before answering. "Then we will hunt down that nasty bastard Filch and force his lazy arse up here to open the doors for us."
Hermione stared at Draco. "Brilliant plan."
Draco faced Hermione, eyes narrowing. "Do you have any ideas then, Granger? Now don't be shy. I would be enthralled to hear any of your profound schemes."
Hermione glared for a moment at Draco. "All right, then. Check those doors."
Draco looked outraged at the prospect. "And why must I take orders from a Gryffindor?"
Muttering under her breath, Hermione stood up. "Oh, whine about it, spoilt Slytherin child. I sometimes worry about you, Malfoy. Really, if it weren't for your precious servants at that manor of yours, I would be surprised how you get your hide up in the morning . . . NO!"
Draco looked up. "What is it now?"
Hermione looked at Draco. "Remember when I asked you what you would do if the door to the library were locked?"
Draco groaned. "No, you are kidding me! The door is locked!"
Hermione didn't answer.
"Brilliant! Bloody fucking brilliant!" ranted Draco as he pulled on the door. "Maybe you turned the knob the wrong way."
"I've been in and out of the library this year more times than you have ever been in all your seven years at Hogwarts," Hermione said coldly. "I know how to turn a knob, this one especially, thank you."
Draco began to pace, muttering to himself. "Say, Granger, you don't think that we, I especially, would get in big trouble if we just left this chest here? After all, it's due to Filch's infinite idiocity that we are in this unpleasant predicament."
Hermione was going to say something about how much he was currently damaging his own pride by asking something of a Gryffindor but decided against it. "Yes, Malfoy, I do think we will get punished. Severely, in fact, as Filch will claim that it was pure laziness on our part that we didn't get this task completed."
"Damn," murmured Draco, still pacing. He suddenly looked at Hermione. "Why didn't you get the library keys from Filch, Granger? You said that you go in and out of the library often and you should have know it was closed!"
Anger flushed Hermione's face. "You're blaming this on me?"
Draco glared at her and continued to pace. "All right, all right," he started. "Let's not get too excited here."
Hermione looked as if she were about to sock Draco right on the nose.
"Say, you are friendly with that kook, Dumbledore. Why don't you ask him for the keys to the library? Or Madame Pince, she knows you pretty well. How about asking her?"
"Are you mad? I can't do both option 'a' or 'b'!"
"Why not?" inquired Draco.
Hermione gaped. The ignorance of this boy! "What do you expect me to say, first of all. Go to the headmaster's sleeping quarters and knock on the door? 'Um, excuse me, headmaster? It's Hermione Granger, and I was wondering if you could possibly give me the keys to the library? Malfoy, being the ingenious Slytherin that he is, forgot to get them from Mister Filch.'"
"Somewhere along the lines of that."
"And you can forget Madame Pince. Just completely forget about her."
"Well, what do we propose that we do? I'm tired, sore, and want to get away from you!" whined Draco.
"Do stop your annoying griping! I'm already with an awful headache. Don't worsen it."
"I'm being serious, Granger."
"So am I. The sound of your voice is just . . . unpleasant."
"Strange. Most women enjoy hearing me speak," Draco leered.
Hermione looked at him skeptically. "Could you be more egotistical?"
"I'm not egotistical. I'm telling the truth," Draco remarked.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Of all the people in this whole school to be partnered with, he had to be the one! Of course, there weren't many people that she would duel with, and so spontaneously at that! It was his bothersome talent, she supposed, to somehow twist the very core of her nerves and unleash an anger that no one had ever unleashed.
"Okay, let's just shut up and think about this seriously," said Hermione.
Draco's lip quirked. "I thought we were. A simple solution really. Go to that kook, Dumbledore, and ask him for the keys."
"Malfoy! Dumbledore is not a kook! And no, I am not going to him to ask for the keys!" Hermione said firmly, stamping her foot down for emphasis.
"Oh? He's not a kook?" accused Draco. "Who in the right mind would allow Potter to come back to school even after all the rules he'd broken during his time at Hogwarts? No one but a Grade A kook."
Hermione gawked. "Why do you hate Professor Dumbledore so much? I mean, sure he's kind towards Harry and . . ." She trailed off. "Okay, we are getting off-topic again."
"Like I said: go --"
"I am not going to Dumbledore and that is final!"
Draco glared at her. "Well think of something. I hope you don't expect me to spend the night here with this chest until Madame Pince comes to the library to open up for the day."
Hermione scowled at Draco. "We are not going to spend the night here. You do some thinking too! You said before that I do too much of it!"
"Too much of what?"
"Thinking, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.
So the two sat in silence, wondering how to open the doors all the while trying to fight off the fatigue that clouded their minds like a plague.
Finally, Draco calmly walked over to the door. He got out the key which used to open the chest and walked toward the door.
"Malfoy? What are you doing?" asked Hermione.
"Trying to open the door, obviously. Not very observant, are you?" he snapped.
Hermione frowned. "I don't think it'll work."
"Oh really?" asked Draco smugly.
The door swung open.
Hermione stood there. "Oh."
Draco smirked. "That's attractive, Granger. You look just like a fish."
Hermione shut her mouth immediately. Feeling the heat rise up to her cheeks, she looked away from Draco to the chest. "Well? Come on now, let's get this inside."
Draco walked over. "You're telling me I need to learn some manners. Not even a thank you."
Hermione didn't bother answering him. She maintained her scowl and entered the dark library. "I wonder why Filch didn't tell us that this key would open the library."
Draco shrugged. "He probably thought that we should be able to figure this out on our own."
Hermione frowned. And to think that she considered spending the night outside the library doors with this stupid git. Though she did say that they weren't going to spend the night there, she was seriously bearing in mind to do just that. Detention for a month? She'd rather sleep outside the library door than get into more trouble. It was bad enough that Professor McGonagall had sent her parents a letter. "How did you know that the key would open for the library doors?"
The two walked over to the huge wooden cart. To their great relief, the cart's shelves were labeled 'green', 'blue', 'black', and 'red'.
Draco shrugged. "I figured there was no other option."
"I see," said Hermione, dropping the chest onto the ground. She breathed out and looked over at Draco who already had the key out.
Draco moved towards the chest. "Move, Granger," he said curtly. He bent down to the lock. He roughly shoved the key in and turned.
Hermione didn't quite know what she would expect. But she knew it was anything but this. When Draco opened the chest, she held her breath. And was extremely disappointed by what was in there. Inside the chest sat about fifty or so copies of books. They were in relatively good condition, looking as if they were about fifty years old, and each had either a green, blue, black, or red cover. They were without any titles or the author's names.
Gingerly picking up a book, Hermione examined it. It had a black cover on it. She carefully opened it. "What in the world . . . " she started. "Malfoy! Come over here."
Draco hesitantly peered over Hermione's shoulder.
"Look at the writing here. It's . . . it's gibberish! Do you know what language this is?" she asked, tilting the book to help Draco see the text better.
Draco perused the page and shook his head. "I don't think so."
Hermione closed the book and stacked it up on the shelf labeled 'black.' "Do you suppose that Madame Pince has gotten these sets of books so that she could translate them? How fascinating! Perhaps I could help her."
Draco snorted. He grabbed the books mindlessly and set them in the proper shelf. "I don't really know, Granger. But see, there is one problem. For a month I have been condemned to serve detention with you. I doubt that you will have any free time on your hands."
Realizing this suddenly, her happy mood deflated. "Just great. Fan-bloody-tastic," she muttered.
After a few minutes, Hermione and Draco managed to settle half of the books away. Suddenly, a book fell to the floor. Draco looked up to find Hermione staring down at a book with a red cover on it.
He sighed. "You did hear Filch say that these books would tear easily, right?"
Hermione nodded, annoyed. "Of course." She picked up the book again and winced.
"What's the matter?"
"I -- I don't know. But when I touch it, I can feel something pulsing. Like . . . a vein. It's strange. But now it's fading." She held up the book and examined it. When she found nothing different, she shrugged a bit and set it on the shelf label 'red.'
"Well, Malfoy," she said after some time. "Are we done? Do we need to do anything else? What are we going to do about that chest?" She pointed at the now empty chest.
Draco didn't answer for a few moments but finally said, "Just leave it here. I'm sure it is light enough that Madame Pince can put away herself. And Filch can't get us in trouble for leaving a chest here."
Hermione nodded, satisfied. She looked around for a clock. "Well, I suppose our detention is quite finished for tonight," Hermione said. She turned around and walked towards the door.
And that was the last she had heard from him that night. Hermione ran all the way to the Gryffindor Common room. She never liked the Hogwarts castle in the dark. Shadows pranced around her, whispering fears into her ear. And despite herself, Draco's talk about corpses had unsettled her more than she showed.
Her heart raced and raced, refusing to stop, as she ran. And not until she woke up the Fat Lady, uttered the password, and climbed into the Commons did she allow herself to relax.
"Oh! Harry? Ron?"
She smiled, seeing her two friends, heads down on a table, asleep, with a chessboard between them. Had they waited for her? She quietly walked over to the two and shook Harry's shoulder, waking him up.
"Nigeria!" he said, sitting up. "The Distunc Dust is found in the plains of Nigeria, where . . . where . . . Hermione?"
Hermione smiled. "Actually, it's the Amazon Rain Forest. Tambunc Dust is from Nigeria."
Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes. He settled his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and grinned.
"What were you and Ron doing? Don't tell me you were studying," she chided softly.
"Aw, Hermione, we were waiting for you."
Hermione pulled a chair next to him. "You shouldn't have. You knew that I was going to be back late. You and Ron should have just gone to bed."
Shrugging, Harry took his rook off of the chessboard and started fiddling around with it. "Actually, Hermione, it was Ron who convinced me to wait for you. A quote. 'Harry, we should really wait for Hermione and see if that nasty bastard --' I assume it was either Filch or Malfoy, probably Malfoy '-- did anything to her. If he did, we can go kill him.'"
Hermione laughed quietly and soon enough, Harry joined in. "Really Harry. I don't think that Malfoy would hurt me physically."
Harry's eyes hardened suddenly. "Yes, but his attitude towards you over the last six years doesn't calm our hearts easily."
Hermione sighed. "Malfoy is a bully, Harry," started Hermione. "But I don't think he would want to get into any more trouble."
Harry nodded. "Over the years, I have learned one lesson. Never trust a Malfoy." He laughed. "I'll just have to have faith in you. But I'm not really sure about Ron. You know how brash he is." He glanced at Ron for a short time.
Smiling, Hermione nodded. She stood up. "Well come on, Harry. You're haggard. Get some rest."
Harry stood up and stretched, yawning. "You rest too. Don't work on any school work. Ron and I took a lot of notes for you. You want mine or his?"
Hermione scrunched up her nose. Ron's notes were usually doodled on. "I'd prefer yours, thanks."
Harry grinned. "All right. I'll wake up Ron. You get to rest, Hermione. And remember, no school work. You look like shit. You need your beauty sleep."
Hermione stared down at Harry. "Thanks. You know, I envy your eloquence."
"I know you do."
Nodding, Hermione turned around and headed over to her head girl room. She briefly glanced at Harry, poking Ron. She smiled softly and couldn't help thinking, Thanks Harry.