Finally she was asleep. Why was she here? Did she even know where she was? Draco shook his head, probably not. He doubted if she would remember him finding her, messed up as she had been. Draco sat on the edge of the bed looking down at her. The pain and fear on her face faded and her breathing slowed as she settled. He shook his head and stood up, careful not to disturb her. He walked slowly across the room, pressing his fingers into his temple as he tried to take stock of the last hour. It didn't make sense, none of it. What had happened to her? Why was she here? Why now? There was a sound, just a quiet mumble from behind him. He turned to see her move her head slightly, and then settle again. He frowned in confusion. He had never seen anyone that upset before. What was wrong with her?
Draco walked returned to the side of the bed to get a better look at her, hoping to see an answer in her sleeping face. The moonlight shone in through the window and made her seem ghostly pale as it reflected off the beads of sweat on her brow. A lump formed in Draco's throat as he watched her sleep. He noticed dark circles beneath her eyes, the sign that this wasn't her first restless night. Even now as she slept he could see that she was upset; her eyes danced and moved behind their lids and her face twitched with flashes of emotion. What is wrong with her? She was dreaming, and whatever she was dreaming about didn't seem pleasant. There was a sudden movement as she kicked her legs, casting off the blanket. Draco retrieved it and gently covered her again so that the cold air wouldn't wake her. The question kept repeating in his mind: what was upsetting her? He sighed and turned away, crossing over to sit in the room's only chair. He didn't imagine that it was going to be a very comfortable place to spend the night but it wasn't as if he slept that much lately anyway. He lifted his cloak from the desk and looked beneath it, searching for the book before he remembered tossing it into the corner. He swore and was about to stand up when he felt a lump in the cloak. A book shaped lump! He opened his cloak and the book fell out, landing with a thud on the floor
"Shit!" he exclaimed, his eyes darting to the bed. 'Don't wake up, please!' He held his breath for a count of ten before he relaxed. The sound hadn't woken her. He let out the breath and retrieved the book from the floor. 'What the fuck? How the hell did that get in there?' He frowned. 'Could there be two of them?' He turned and looked over his shoulder at the corner of the room. The floor was clear; he could see no book in sight. It had to have moved on its own. How? Crazy as it sounded, had the cloak somehow managed to retrieve the book? He reached out with his senses and touched the tiny presence of his cloak. Mildly aware of how ridiculous he looked, he raised the book and showed it to the cloak. 'How did you get this?' he sent. He got no concrete response but there was a change in the sense of the cloak. It seemed happier for some reason, pleased with itself maybe? He shook his head and smiled, this thing was more clever than he had thought.
Thoughts of the cloak vanished as Hermione mumbled something in her sleep, something he couldn't make out. He looked over at her for a long moment but she showed no further signs of waking. The realisation that this would be a long night settled over him. He stood up and pulled on his cloak before he settled down in the chair and tried to make himself comfortable.
The night seemed to pass slowly as he read about all the horrible things that were going to happen to him. Eventually he stopped asking questions like 'how much will that hurt?,' and 'how will I ever survive that?' They were pointless.
All the while as he read, he was aware of Hermione. She continued to dream, occasionally mumbling and moaning in her sleep. The whole night seemed to be a continuous nightmare for her but she never woke. At each word or random sound, Draco tuned in, intently listening for some clue about what was disturbing her. He nodded off several times, only to be woken by a yet another muffled cry or indecipherable word. The last time he remembered looking at his watch, it was nearly half past six.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Etean rolled up the parchment and slipped it into the silver tube. Regal sat on the window ledge, watching him with a disapproving eye. "I'm sorry to ask you to do this my friend, but it's too important to trust any of them."
He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the collected owls in the rafters. There was a rustling of movement and a clicking of beaks that told him that the birds had heard and understood him all too well and that they were not happy. He ignored them and reached out, securing the cylinder beneath Regal's wing. "Now, I need you to hurry, get this to Dominic as fast as you can. He shouldn't need to reply, so don't hang around."
He rubbed Regal's beak. The bird nipped at his finger affectionately then turned away, hopped to the outer edge of the window ledge and took off.
The sky above Hogwarts was awash with colour. Purple and black battled with orange and yellow as day and night struggled for dominance over the sky. A beautiful sight from the ground, but it would be absolutely breathtaking from the air. Etean suppressed a sigh as he watched Regal shrink into the mottled dawn sky. Regal circled once then headed south with a mighty screech of joy. Etean closed his eyes and let the sound fill him as he pictured himself in Regal's place. The sky was his domain, his playground. He would be soaring above the Highlands before the sun would make its appearance and wake the world. Its first rays would bathe him as he glided and drifted on the gentle updrafts rising from those untouched valleys. In his opinion the Scottish mountains lacked the sheer staggering beauty of the Alps, but he longed to be flying over them all the same. He opened his eyes and sighed again, watching Regal bank under the influence of an unseen breeze, correcting his flight with almost poetic grace. Etean wondered how long had it been since he had been able to simply fly like that, with no cares other than the wind. He shook his head, too long. He turned and left the Owlery, pausing on the landing and scowling slightly. Being confined to this damned castle, with its cold walls and echoing chambers was starting to get to him. He was really starting to dislike the fact that he was stuck here. In the past, mission or no mission he had always managed to stay mobile, constantly moving to from place to place, freedom. "Stop it Etean, it won't help!"
He scolded himself and turned on his heel, heading down the stairs, forcing his mind to focus on happier things. He paused mid step, like what? He was surrounded by problems on all sides. His mission here was effectively on hold. Draco was wallowing in grief and showed no signs of snapping out of it any time soon. In the meantime he had to deal with the Slytherins. They were a constant droning bore, though made bearable by the vague chance that there might be something to gain from the whole Nott situation. But he was no closer to any progress in figuring him out so all he could do was wait and see.
Ordinarily that wouldn't bother him; waiting and watching were what he had been trained to do all his life. Without even thinking about it, he could list off several assignments he had been given over the years where all he had done was watch, using the cover of playing the innocent child to fade from sight. That tactic had worked dozens of times, but this time things were different. This time, he wasn't just an operative on a mission with a limited view on things. As a member of the Council, he knew just how many different operations were going on at this moment all over Europe. Right now, all over the continent people were working, struggling and fighting, carrying out orders that the Council, including Etean, had given. They were risking their lives on his orders and he couldn't help. In fact, given his current situation, there was precious little he could do that could benefit the Circle and that really annoyed him.
Etean reached the bottom of the stairs and found that the Great Hall was deserted. He frowned and checked his watch, shaking his head when he saw the time. It was ridiculously early for breakfast. There probably wasn't even any food ready yet. He turned to leave, idly wondering what he could do to pass the time until the rest of the castle woke up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind died, Hermione felt warm all of a sudden. She sat up and opened her eyes to see her own reflection staring back at her. Her brow crinkled slightly as she frowned. The sense of confusion deepened when she looked down to see a hairbrush in her hand. What was she doing with that? Hadn't she just been…Where had she been? The thoughts slid and bubbled about inside her head. She had been somewhere…She was doing…something…Wasn't she?
She looked up and examined her own reflection in the large mirror that stood on the nightstand before her, worried that it would start playing tricks on her again. The face that looked back at her was hers. The eyes, the nose, everything was just right. Except the hair, that wasn't right. It was still tangled a little at the end. That wouldn't do at all, not tonight. She lifted the brush and ran it through her hair, teasing it straight. 'There,' she mused to herself, adjusting the chain around her neck so her pendant hung straight, 'perfect!' A smile of satisfaction spread across her lips. She was ready. Well…almost. Her eyes settled on the band of silver on her finger, her wedding ring! No, it wouldn't do for her to wear that tonight. It tugged free and slipped off her finger with surprising ease. Hermione rolled it between her fingers as her mind wandered back, dredging up the memory of the day she had put it on. She could almost see the minister standing over her…a wedding performed by the French head of state, what else would Lord Etean's marriage demand?
"Do you take this man, Robert Etean, to be your husband?" the minister's voice was gravely and dry.
And then her answer, "I do."
To this day, she couldn't believe that she had managed to keep her voice from cracking as she took the vow and sealed her fate. She shook her head as she dropped the ring on the table and pushed the unpleasant memory aside. That was then and this was now, what was done was done and couldn't be undone. Her eyes darted to the reflection of the clock in the mirror. He would be here soon.
Hermione felt her skin tingle in anticipation. Would he be late? Yes, she smiled, just to tease her. Would he bring her a present? Yes of course he would. She wondered what it would be. Would it be something pretty and romantic or something expensive and showy? How would he arrive? What new trick would he have learned to get past the chateau's security? The questions chased themselves around inside her head in an endless circle. Part of her mind was screaming at her, telling her that this was wrong but she ignored it. She knew the risks she was taking and she didn't care. She was tired of following the rules. For five years now she had done everything that was asked of her. She had kept her vow, been faithful to a husband that was too wrapped up in his work and his duty to the state to even notice her. She had made every sacrifice that was asked of her and she had done it with a smile on her face. She had given everything she had and asked for nothing in return, until now. Tonight, she was taking something she wanted and damn the world if they didn't like it.
Hermione lifted the perfume bottle from the nightstand and started to dab it on, savouring the scent as it filled her nostrils. A drop behind each ear, one on the nape of her neck and, she smiled as she dabbed some more in a few secret places. Something for him to discover later. Her smile faded as she set the bottle down. What if they were caught? She shuddered at the thought. She had only seen Robert really mad once. Just once he had lost control. It had only lasted for an instant before he had gotten hold of himself, but the memory of his eyes was enough to terrify her even now. 'But,' she shut her eyes and took a breath as she tried to calm herself, 'he won't find out, how can he? He isn't even in the country, off on some urgent errand to Belgium…or was it Bulgaria?'
Her eyes opened and she shook her head to dismiss the thought, it didn't matter, it was too late now to turn back. Robert wouldn't find out, she had seen to that. There was no one to tell him, the staff had been dismissed for the evening.
Her breathing settled as she got herself under control. There was movement behind her. In the mirror she saw the door slowly swung open. The hinges made no noise but as she turned she heard the familiar soft sound of paws on the wooden floor,
"Lupie!" she said brightly as the wolf's silver tail cleared the door, "Were you lonely down stairs girl?"
She extended her hand to her pet, but Lupie didn't move. She just stood there and stared at Hermione. A soft growl started somewhere in her throat. The sound resonated in Hermione's head. It filled her mind as a sudden realisation hit her. This was wrong! She shouldn't be here. Lupie shouldn't be here either. This wasn't real…it had to be a dream…
Lupie growled again and turned away. She headed out the door and disappeared from sight. Hermione panicked! Where had she gone?
"NO! Wait, COME BACK!" she shouted as she jumped to her feet.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hermione sat bolt upright. "Come back!" she yelled at the top of her voice.
Draco snapped awake so suddenly when he heard her voice that he dropped his book and came within an inch of falling out of the chair entirely. He straightened and sat up, grimacing at the pain in his back. The human spine was not designed for sleeping in chairs. Draco twisted and stretched, trying to loosen the stiffness in his muscles. He looked over at Hermione. She was looking around and seemed confused. Her eyes settled on him and widened in surprise. Then she sighed, "Fuck," her tone was flat as she spoke, "for a minute there I thought this was real."
Draco frowned at her. "What do you mean real?"
Hermione didn't answer. Instead she shook her head and looked around. "So where am I this time?" she sighed, "Looks like Hogwarts." She frowned and looked around again. "I don't see any strange animals yet so maybe this is a new one."
Draco stood up, wincing at a cramp in his leg. "A new what?" he asked. "What are you talking about, Hermione?"
Hermione looked at him. "Great," she sounded mildly shocked, "So it's Hermione again, is it?" She laughed. "But, I suppose it doesn't matter what you call me in here, does it?"
"Ok," said Draco, "you're really confusing me now. What are you talking about?"
"I'm confusing you?" She hid her mouth as she laughed again, "I'm sorry, I don't usually have anyone to talk to here."
"Anyone to talk to?" He sat on the edge of the bed and looked her in the eye. "Hermione, where do you think you are?"
She stared back, frowning in concentration as she watched him. Her frown faded, she drew back and her lip started to tremble. "You're…I mean…this is…a dream…isn't it?"
Draco's mind reeled, a dream? She really is messed up, he shook his head. "No," he said quietly, "not unless you have a very good imagination."
A small smile twisted the corner of his lip as he pretended to preen himself. Humour, he had hoped, might cheer her up. It was a poor joke he knew, but he didn't expect her to cry.
"You're…you're real?" she stammered between sobs, "Then this," she looked around her, "this is real too?" He nodded, "Oh my god…I…I'm sorry."
She broke down again. Draco shuffled forward and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry."
Seeing her cry bothered him. He decided to give humour one last shot. "It was an easy mistake to make, given how dreamy I am."
He paused for her reaction. To his relief, she did bark out a tiny laugh amidst the tears. She lifted her head and wiped at her eyes. Draco looked around for something to give her. She needed a tissue or…he felt a lump near his wrist. He lowered his hand and shook his sleeve, dislodging the silk handkerchief that had miraculously appeared there. He shook his head, making a mental note to learn a lot more about his cloak, before picking the handkerchief up and handing it to her. "Here," he said and stood up.
Draco crossed to the chair, stooping to scoop up the book from the floor on his way. He stuffed it into his cloak, feeling the weight disappear almost instantly. 'What the?' He dug inside his robe and instantly found the book tucked in amidst the folds. He shook his head again and sat down, feeling a tiny surge of happiness from his cloak. It had confused him, and apparently it liked it.
He turned his attention back to Hermione. She had wiped away her tears and was looking around her again, frowning at the walls. "Where am I?" she asked sheepishly.
"Hogwarts," he answered, trying to sound reassuring, "just like you thought."
"How did you know…?" she started to ask, but then stopped herself. "Oh, I remember…sorry. But where are we exactly?"
"A room near the Hospital Wing," said Draco. "One I didn't know existed until they brought me here."
Hermione looked at the walls again. "I've never been here before." She turned to him. "How did I get here?"
Draco shrugged. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me that."
"Huh?"
"Well, you showed up here last night and started pounding on the door. When I went outside, you were," he paused, wondering how best to say this. In the end he decided to keep it simple. "You weren't yourself. You were just kneeling there…crying, but you wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I tried to get you to tell me, but I couldn't get any sense out of you at all."
Draco watched her face pale as he spoke, with each word she got more and more upset. Hermione sniffed and wiped at her face again, even though Draco had seen no more tears fall. "I…I don't remember any of that," she stammered through shaking lips. "The last thing I remember, I was…" she paused and looked at him for a second. "I don't know what I was doing. But…that was just a dream…wasn't it?"
Draco wasn't sure if she was asking him that question or just thinking aloud. The fear in her eyes was obvious to him even at this distance. "I don't think it was, I mean," he shook his head and then shrugged, "you're here aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am," she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Did you…I mean was I…when you found me I mean was I…"
Draco leaned forward as she foundered. "Were you what?"
"Was I…" Hermione paused and took a deep breath. "Was I alone when you found me?"
Draco frowned, the question seemed ridiculous to him. "Alone? Yes, you were. At least, I didn't see anyone else."
"Or anything?" The fear in Hermione's voice seemed to jump up a notch as she asked the question.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked in return.
"Oh," Hermione avoided his eyes as he looked at her. It was obvious that the question bothered her. "Nothing…it was nothing…just a dream I had."
"You had nightmares."
Her head snapped round to look at him. "What?" She really sounded scared.
"That's what it looked like to me anyway," Draco answered. "You tossed and turned all night."
"You were here all night watching me?"
Draco laughed and waved at the walls. "Where else would I go?"
"Oh, yeah I see." She buried her head in her arms.
Draco watched her take long, slow breaths, trying to get herself under control. "What were you dreaming about?" He tried to make the question sound calm and simple.
Hermione shook her head without looking up. "Nothing" was the muffled answer.
Draco stood up and crossed back to sit on the edge of the bed. "It didn't seem like nothing to me. You were really upset when you arrived." She looked up at him, tears flowing again, "and, if you don't mind me saying it," he smiled at her, "you look like hell."
She let out a tiny laugh. "Thanks," she paused to wipe her eyes, "that makes me feel a lot better."
"Glad to help." His smile faded. "But it's true though. You look…exhausted."
Hermione laughed again, louder this time. "You'd be surprised how often people tell me that."
"It is pretty obvious from where I'm sitting," said Draco, "I take it that these nightmares have been a regular occurrence then?"
She nodded, "Yeah, you could say that."
"What are they about?"
"I don't know," she shook her head, "they don't make sense. But dreams never do, do they?"
"Not always, no. But still," he moved closer to her, "tell me about them?"
Hermione frowned. "Why do you want to know?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know, but it doesn't look like I have anything better to do at the moment."
Her expression darkened. "So what? You're looking for a good laugh? A way to pass the time at the expense of the crazy little mudblood?"
Draco drew back. "No…I was just curious…I mean..." Hermione was glaring at him. He shook his head and stood up. "Forget it, I just thought you might want someone to talk to, that's all."
Behind him, he heard Hermione sigh. "I'm sorry, Malfoy…"
Something exploded in Draco's mind, sending a wave of anger through him. Malfoy was Lucius' name not his, not anymore.
Oblivious to his anger, Hermione carried on talking. "…I just don't like talking about it that's all."
Draco turned back to her, fighting his anger down. "Whatever Hermione, have it your way." He turned away again and returned to his chair. He chose a book at random from the desk and opened it. The storm of emotions in his head raged on, barely in check. His jaw silently clenched and unclenched as he stared blindly at the book. He struggled to keep control, forcing himself to calm down a bit more with each deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her sitting in the bed, but couldn't tell what she was doing. He was about to close the book and drop the pretence when Hermione's voice interrupted him.
"It was a wolf," she said quietly.
Draco shut the book and looked over at her. "What was a wolf?"
"You asked what I was dreaming about." Hermione shut her eyes and took a breath. "It was a wolf, a big silver wolf. I was chasing it through the corridors."
"You were…chasing a wolf...through the castle? In your dream?"
"Yes." She looked at the door and shook her head.
Draco frowned, something didn't make sense. "But…if that was a dream then…" he started.
"Then how come I wound up here?" she finished for him. She looked at him, the look of fear back on her face. "I don't know." Her voice sounded shaky as she said the last part.
"That's…" Draco paused. He had been about to say 'weird', but it occurred to him that in her current state, Hermione might not take it too well. "…unusual." He grumbled inside his head, 'Unusual'? Was that the best he could do? What the hell kind of word was that to describe her dream?
Hermione nodded. "I've been thinking the same thing." She lifted a hand and rubbed her eyes.
"How long have you been having these dreams?"
Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure." She chewed her lip for a minute, thinking. "A couple of weeks. Maybe longer."
"And," he asked, "they're always the same, the dreams? Always the wolf thing?"
"No," she shook her head, "not always. Sometimes they're…" she paused, her skin paled even further, "different."
Something in her voice told him not to push her for any more details about the dreams. Whatever they were, they clearly terrified her right to the core. "Have you told Madame Pomfrey or anyone else about them?"
Hermione's brow shot up. "Why would I do that?"
"Well," Draco shrugged. "Like I said, you're exhausted, maybe she could give you something. Something to help you sleep better I mean," he added hurriedly on seeing her expression.
"A potion?" she scowled. "That's a great idea that is. Sure, drug me up to the eyeballs, that'll solve everything. Wonderful!"
"No," Draco stood up. "I didn't mean it like that. But…I have heard of potions that just put you to sleep," he snapped his fingers, "like that."
"That's just what I need…more sleep," she said sarcastically.
"Yes," Draco answered, ignoring her tone, "you really do."
"You don't understand," she chewed on her lip, "I…I don't like sleeping. I'm…scared."
Draco nodded. "I gathered that, but there are some sleeping potions that can let you sleep without dreaming." Her eyes widened. "At least, that's what I heard…I'm not really sure."
Hermione nodded. "I know, I read all about them. But I haven't tried any of them."
"Why not?"
"They're all really complicated to make."
Draco smiled. "So what? I doubt there is a potion in existence that the great Hermione Granger can't brew."
Hermione looked up at him. "On a good day maybe." Her face was set and blank, Draco half wondered if she was joking. After a moment her expression cracked into a weak smile. She shook her head. "Besides even if I could brew the potion, I could never get my hands on the ingredients. Some of them are pretty rare."
"All the more reason to ask Madame Pomfrey, she probably already has…"
"No!" she cried. Draco stepped back in surprise. Hermione got a hold of herself. "I'm sorry. But I don't want to get Madame Pomfrey involved in this…or anyone else for that matter."
"Why?" Draco crossed to the bed and sat down.
"Because," said Hermione, "How would you like to have to tell people that you were going crazy?"
"You're not going crazy," said Draco soothingly, "You're just…"
"I spent last night chasing a figment of my own imagination through the castle," said Hermione, "Sounds pretty crazy to me."
"There is that…" he said.
Hermione lifted the blanket, then dropped it again and gathered it closely about her. She blushed and avoided his eyes. "I, em…don't seem to be dressed."
Draco smiled. "I did notice that, yes." He rolled his eyes, realising that the comment had not sounded good. "I mean…I…well that was how you were dressed when you arrived."
The blush deepened on her face; she opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. In the end she shook her head. "Well em…what…what time is it?"
Draco checked his watch, "Nearly half ten," he laughed as he stood up, "looks like you'll be missing a few more classes."
Hermione frowned as she thought, then she shook her head. "It's Saturday, isn't it?"
Draco froze in surprise. "Is it?" He tried and failed to wrap his head around it. How could it be Saturday? It should be…he shook his head. He had no idea what day it was. "Oh!" He looked away from her, avoiding the concern on her face.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
'What? She's asking me if I'm alright?' Draco leaned his head back and shut his eyes, feeling the slight urge to laugh at the absurdity of the thought. His voice filled with empty sarcasm, "Me? I'm fine." he lowered his head to look at her. "Can't you tell?"
Hermione bit her lip and drew her knees up to her chest. "Malfoy, I'm…sorry…" If she kept talking Draco didn't hear her. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. The word kept repeating over and over again in his head…Malfoy! Over and over it sounded, getting louder. In the end he had to shut his eyes in an attempt to get himself under control. It didn't work. All that the darkness behind his eyes brought him was the world of his imagination. His father's face hung before him, his expression hard and cruel. Malfoy…Lucius…Malfoy…Draco…Malfoy…Lucius…Malfoy…Malfoy…Malfoy…
"Shut up!" he roared over the noise in his skull.
Hermione jumped in surprise at his outburst. "Sorry?" she said.
Draco struggled to get his thoughts in order before he could answer her. "Stop…" his voice wavered, he took a breath before trying again. "Don't call me that."
Hermione hesitated, then frowned. "Don't call you…Malfoy?" His eyes slid closed as he heard her say the name again. "But…it's your name."
The sound built up again in his head. "NO!" He couldn't stop himself shouting as he moved toward her. "It's his name, not…" he couldn't continue, the noise in his skull was too loud. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Don't call me that ever again."
Words failed him once more. He realised he was shaking and only then did he notice the fear on her face. He looked down and realised that he was standing by the bed, all but bearing down on her. He stepped back and turned away from her, clenching and unclenching his fists as he walked to the window. By the time he opened the curtains, he was able to say, "Sorry…I didn't mean to scare you…I just…"
He really didn't know what to say to finish that sentence so he just left it hanging as he stared at his own reflection in the window. The face looking back at him suddenly disgusted him. The blonde hair, the grey eyes, they were his father's features. Lucius might as well be the one looking at him. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead into the window pane. "Fuck!" he whispered.
Behind him, there was a rustle as Hermione stood up. She draped the blanket around her as she walked toward him. "You're not your father."
Draco tried to ignore her, he'd heard this speech before. He lifted his head and pounded it into the glass, hoping that the sound of the impact would be enough to drown her out. It wasn't!
Draco spun to face her. He couldn't bear to hear her feeble attempts to placate him. "Spare me the 'you're not Lucius' speech, will you? I really don't want to hear it."
"I'm sorry…" Hermione began.
"And stop apologising," Draco snarled, cutting her off. "Just…" he turned away again. "Just go…Leave me alone."
"I…"
"I said stop." His shoulders sagged under the weight of his emotions. "Please!" It came out as a plea. Draco didn't want it to, but it did. The roaring sound in his ears was starting to hurt.
"Ok, I didn't mean to upset you…Draco."
The noise in his head stopped! The only thing he could hear was the slowly fading pounding of his pulse in his ears. THUMP-THUMP …Thump-Thump…thump-thump… it faded away to nothing. His mind drifted back to the last time he had heard his name sound like that. The dream, the last time she had said it. It had affected him then, and it did now. The sound brought a strange kind of peace to his mind. He stared at her, relishing the blissful silence. But, all too soon, his gaze made her uncomfortable.
Hermione stepped back and looked down at her feet. "Em," she stammered as she lifted the blanket, wrapping it more securely about her shoulders, "I think…maybe I should leave. People will be wondering where I am."
"Ok," he said, though it occurred to him that he didn't really want her to go anymore.
"Erm, could you do me a favour though?" she asked.
"What?" he said, taking a step toward her.
"Well," she looked up and started when she saw how close he was to her. She blushed, the proximity seemed to make her uncomfortable, but she didn't step away. "Can I borrow some clothes? I mean…" she blushed. "I can't go running through the castle in my nightshirt, can I?"
"You mean you can't do it again?" He smiled at her. Her blush deepened as he reminded her how she had gotten there in the first place.
"Yeah, I guess that is what I meant," she said quietly. "So do you have something I can wear?"
Draco thought about it…clothes?
"No," he shook his head and tugged on his robes. "Only what I'm wearing. But," he smiled and took out his wand, "that shouldn't be a problem for long."
Draco stepped took aim at the table and pictured a set of witches robes.
"Vestima Exhume!" he said. A burst of red light burst from his wand and deposited at pile of pale blue cloth on the table. He turned to Hermione, "Hope they fit," he said.
Hermione shuffled over to the table and picked up the robes, examining them briefly before she turned to him. "That should do…erm…excuse me."
Draco looked at her for a moment before he caught on. "Oh," he said as he turned round, "right."
He could hear the sounds of her getting dressed from behind him. It was a serious effort for him not to turn round to look at her but he managed it. He ground his teeth and tried to force himself to think of something else.
"Draco?" Hermione said, bringing his attention right back to her.
"Yes," he answered.
"How long do you plan on staying here?"
The question irritated him. "I don't know," he spat.
But then he thought about it, how long did he plan on staying there? Since he had been here, neither Etean nor Dumbledore had actually asked him that question, so he had never had to answer it. "As long as it takes" was the best answer he could give.
"As long as what takes?"
Draco started to turn, then remembered. "I don't know," he said.
He hoped she wouldn't press him further. He had given her the simple answer. But he found himself wondering if it was it the truth?
"Ok," Hermione said. There was a sound of a heavy cloth being dropped onto the bed. "You can turn around now."
Draco turned to see her straightening the blanket on the bed. The robes he had conjured for her seemed to fit pretty well. He watched her, the robes were familiar. The colour, pale blue, reminded him of something…or someone!
"Oh no," he sighed as it hit him. He turned and sat on the table, not trusting his legs to support him. Of all the colours in the world, why that one? Of all the clothes he could have conjured for her, why did it have to be those?
"What?" Hermione turned round, sounding worried, "what did I do?"
Draco raised his left hand and pressed his fingers into his eyes, trying to hold back the tears inside him. Hermione walked over to him and repeated her question,
"Nothing," he answered eventually. "You did nothing. It's just those robes," he reached out and touched the fabric. Hell, they even felt like hers. "They were my mothers." He looked up to see a look of shock on her face. "I mean…" he corrected himself, realising that what he had just said made no sense. "This," he stroked the fabric again, "this was her favourite colour. She must have had…dozens, hundreds of robes in this colour…this fabric. She wore them all the time. Whenever I see her in my head, she's wearing robes like these…"
He felt tears coming and looked away from her, not wanting her to see him cry. Hermione reached out and took hold of his chin. Gently she lifted his head until he was looking at her again.
"It's alright, Draco," she said.
He wanted so badly for her words to be true. He would have given anything for everything, or even anything to be alright. Draco let himself stare into her eyes. He was willing and even eager for them drew him in, just as they always did. But now it was different, now those honey brown orbs were filled with sorrow and, he realised, pity. The shock of the realisation hit him like a bucket of ice water, she pitied him! The idea, the thought revolted him. How could she pity him? Nobody pitied him! The anger inside him snapped him out of his stupor. He straightened and drew back.
"Don't!" He turned his head away. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you feel sorry for me. I don't need your pity, or anyone else's for that matter." He pushed her back a step and stood up straight.
"Draco…" she started, he raised his hand to stop her.
"Just…go, Hermione," he pointed to the door, "the password is 'Honey Bee'. That will allow you to leave."
Draco turned his back on her and returned to the window. Hermione gathered her things and opened the door to leave. To leave him alone…again.
"Hermione?" he called after her.
"Yes," she answered.
"The password will let you back in too…" he turned to her, "If…you wanted to come back sometime that is."
Hermione looked at him for a moment, then nodded and left without a word.
A/N: Here you go, the next exciting chapter. Sorry it took so long but I was busy solidifying my plans for the rest of the story. Its going to be a blast guys.
Thanks to Raela for sorting out some of the formatting (dialogue) issues – between us I hope it makes sense.