Call of the Circle

by RoBoC

During the summer after his fifth year, Draco Malfoy has an encounter that will forever alter his world.

42. The Mirror Speaks

It surprised Draco just how easy his return had been. 'Well,' he thought to himself as he strolled through the corridors on his way to dinner, 'it hasn't been easy, just easier that I thought it would be.' Draco had spent long hours and days in that closed off room dreading the sly whispers and pitied looks he was sure to receive. And receive them he had; in fact, everywhere he went. He had lost count of the times he had had to bite his tongue over the weekend as a last ditch effort to stop himself from tearing someone's head off. His temper seemed to be perched just below breaking point far more often than he was comfortable with.

One thing, just one, had made it bearable. Well, one person anyway. Spending every spare waking moment with Hermione in one quiet corner or another had left Draco with no time to brood over his problems. It almost felt as though he didn't have anything to worry about when they were alone together. It didn't matter what they were doing, studying, playing or just talking, Draco savoured every second he spent with her. He spotted her at the Gryffindor table as he entered the Great Hall and instantly felt better. It had been less than an hour since he had seen her, but it felt more like days. Draco chose an empty spot at the Slytherin table and sat down. He looked over and caught Hermione's eye and flashed her a tiny grin, which broadened significantly when he saw a tint of colour appear on her cheeks. Hermione looked away. Draco got the impression that she was trying to keep her blush under control.

Still grinning, Draco scooped up a large chunk of steak and kidney pie and loaded it onto his plate. Automatically, his eyes scanned the room around him as he chewed his first mouthful. A couple of faces turned away quickly when Draco looked in their direction, but that was all. Draco let out a quiet sigh. Maybe he was losing his gossip value at last. He hoped so, after a whole weekend of twisting one rumour about him into another, surely it was time for them to get bored and move on. They always did, something new always came along to grab their attention sooner or later. Draco just hoped it was sooner.

Draco's attention turned to the Slytherin table. He saw, with a level of satisfaction, that they weren't paying him any attention whatsoever. At least, that was how they made it appear. Draco knew that they were as curious about him as the rest of the school, but he also knew that none of them would dare ask him. A few not so subtle threats and a couple of vicious glares at any of them that so much as looked as though they were about to speak to him had seen to that. Slytherins could be counted on having one trait above all, an instinct for self preservation. It was a trait that Draco had long ago learned to utilise. Whenever he wanted them to do something, all he had to do was threaten them and they'd jump to it. That's just what they were doing, leaving him alone as ordered. All that is, except one.

"Hey, Draco," Pansy mewed as she sat beside him, making Millicent budge up to create room for her. "You're a hard guy to find, do you know that?"

"I wasn't all that aware of it, no," said Draco with a dismissive shrug. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Pansy staring at him, "What is it?" he growled, turning to face her.

"Nothing," said Pansy innocently, "I was just…admiring your hair." She giggled a little. "I really don't think it suits you."

"I don't recall asking your opinion, Pansy," said Draco with a scowl, turning away from her. A thought occurred to him. "Why were you looking for me in the first place?"

"Do I need a reason?"

Draco rolled his eyes to look at her. "It doesn't matter what you need, you have a reason, Pansy."

Pansy shook her head and smirked. "Ok then, I was going to offer to help you with your Charms essay, the one Flitwick set today."

Involuntarily, Draco's eyes darted to the Gryffindor table for a second. "What makes you think I need help, Pansy?"

Pansy laughed and took hold of his hand. "Oh, don't be silly, Draco, you haven't been in class for weeks, you must be lost."

Another quick glance at Hermione. 'I have all the help I need!' Draco shook her hand off and reached for his glass of pumpkin juice. "I think I can manage, thank you," he said in a gravely tone, trying to signal the end of the conversation.

He should have known that it wouldn't work. Instead of backing off, Pansy shuffled closer and whispered in his ear. "Really?" she purred, "I don't think so. You see, I'm on to you."

Draco's head spun to look at her. "What do you mean, on to me?" he spat at her.

Pansy grinned at him. "Come on, Draco. Don't play the innocent with me. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"Notice what?" he grumbled. "I'm not in the mood for games."

Pansy sighed. "Draco," she said in a huffy tone, "This is me you're talking to, you can't fool me. I've seen you sneaking out of the dormitory at every opportunity, disappearing for hours on end and not returning till who knows what time in the night."

Draco's eyes darted across the Great Hall again, and then returned to Pansy. Did Pansy know…what did Pansy know? Had she seen him with Hermione? If she had, this was not the reaction that Draco would have expected. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Pansy," he said, growing uncomfortable with the direction that the conversation was going, "And if you don't mind, I am trying to eat here." He focussed on demolishing his pie, chewing very angrily.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Draco, even if you were doing it behind my back,"

Draco balked at that. "Behind your back?" He dropped his fork and turned to her. "Let us get one thing perfectly straight, Pansy, I haven't done anything behind your back. How and where I spend my free time is my business, nobody else's. And I am not embarrassed about…anything, why the hell should I be?"

"You shouldn't," Pansy said, moving closer to him again and lowering her voice. "Like I said, you've missed a lot of classes, people expect you to be behind."

Now Draco was confused, what was Pansy actually talking about? "Are you going to start making sense anytime this year, Pansy?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I found the essays, Draco!"

"What essays?"

"The ones you've been trying to write all weekend, the ones we had to do while you were…away. I found them in your bag this morning," she beamed at him.

Draco took a second to put things right inside his head, and then he got mad. "In my…you went through my bag?" Pansy nodded, still smiling sweetly. Draco felt his temper near boiling point. "How dare you?"

Pansy merely shrugged and turned to her dinner plate, which she loaded with salad. "Someone has to keep an eye on you, Draco."

Draco froze in his anger, part of his mind simply refusing to believe that this was happening. Did Pansy actually think that there was nothing wrong with her searching his bag? "I am…struggling to understand this, Pansy, so you'll forgive me if this is a stupid question," he said, trying to rein in his anger, "But are you telling me, that you were spying on me?"

"I wasn't spying, I was just concerned." She set her fork down and looked around at the others for a moment before leaning very close to him and whispering, "Listen, I know you, Draco, probably a lot better than you know yourself."

'Yeah right!' Draco thought. He was about to interrupt her, but she just carried on talking, not giving him a chance.

"I know how important image is to you," she glanced around to ensure that nobody was listening to them, "You changed your hair as an excuse for people to stare at you, even though you claim that you don't want them to. It's a contradiction, Draco, which only makes sense in your head, but you see, I know that it's just the way you are. And I know that it's your way to act like the hard case all the time," she nodded at the other students around them, "You do it for them. You don't want to appear weak in front of them – 'Never let them see you bleed,' eh?" she paused to smile at him, then her expression darkened. "You've been through hell in the last month, nobody can question that. And now that you're back, you are determined to act normal, to keep up the appearance that everything is fine, even though we all know that its not." She laughed quietly. "You don't even want to ask for help catching up with your classes. So you hide away, huddled over your books, trying to catch up, just so you can turn round and say to the world: 'See, here I am, Draco Malfoy. Nothing can touch me, not even my mother's death!'"

The words hit him like a sack of bludgers. Draco couldn't fathom it, the one subject in all the world that he just couldn't bear to think about, and it was the one thing that Pansy seemed determined to dredge up at every opportunity. His mind reeled as he resisted the urge to strangle her on the spot. Draco felt his heart start to pound in his throat. Pansy carried on without missing a beat, though he barely heard her.

"But you don't have to be that way all the time, Draco, not with me. The act doesn't fool me. I see the burden of the effort in your eyes, I know you're hurting inside, and I can't bear it." She reached out and took his hand. "Let me help you…if only with your schoolwork at first, if that's all you can manage. I'm not the brightest student in the school, but I can help you if you let me…I want to help you."

Draco pulled his hand free and turned away. Help him? Her idea of help was continually dragging him over the hot coals in his head? How dumb could one girl be? 'Be rational, think before you kill her, Draco!' he thought as his teeth ground. Draco knew Pansy, had done since before he had even come to Hogwarts. Her offer, such as it was, was genuine. She wasn't really dumb, far from it in fact. She just didn't see how raw his wounds still were. She didn't mean to hurt him, it was just that she tended not to think things through before she spoke, and to make matters worse, she was persistent. In the past he had just ignored her little outbursts, only to have her repeat herself within moments. She was like a dog with a bone, never letting go until she was forced to. And force her he had to, it was that or manslaughter.

He turned to her and took hold of her chin with his left hand, turning her head so he could stare into her eyes as he spoke. "Right, let me say this to you one more time and make it clear. I do not need your help. I do not want your help. And if you ever…ever…mention my mother again, for any reason, I will not be liable for my actions."

Draco released her and faced forward. He picked up his fork, but realised that he no longer had any appetite. He dropped the fork with a clatter onto his plate and started to take long slow breaths, trying to exhale his anger. Pansy shuffled in her seat, but said no more. Draco's eyes found their way to the Gryffindor table once again. He wanted to look at Hermione's eyes; they would calm him down. Looking over, his gaze fell on her, but he didn't find anything in her face to help him in the slightest. Hermione was staring back at him with pure, boiling rage in her eyes. Her face was taught and her eyes were narrowed; they twinkled and seemed to shine in the candlelight from overhead. Draco felt his anger flee him in an instant, to be replaced by a sudden confused fear. What had he done? What was making her glare at him like that?

"What?" he mouthed in her direction, getting not the slightest response. Draco was bustled slightly as Pansy clambered out of her seat and left. He started as a hand waved in front of his eyes. He turned to see Annabelle Turner staring blankly at him. "What?" he asked her, frowning.

Annabelle drew back with a slight trepidation. "I asked you if you had seen Etean and Theo."

Draco blinked. "Huh?" his eyes darted back to the Gryffindor table. Hermione had stood up and was heading out of the hall. "Oh…no, why do you want to know?" he asked absent-mindedly, his eyes following Hermione as she stormed out.

"Well, we just…oh, there they are!" Annabelle piped. Draco's moving eyes lost Hermione as she left the hall. At the same moment he caught sight of Etean and Theo heading toward him, their heads together in hushed conversation.

"Finally!" Draco jumped as Blaise's voice boomed out behind him. "Come here you two, we need to talk."

Etean stopped in his tracks. "About what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and dropping into the seat Pansy had just vacated.

"Quidditch," Blaise and Annabelle answered together. Blaise sounded annoyed, Annabelle more bored. "I want to talk to you all," Blaise finished.

Draco looked behind him and noticed for the first time that the entire quidditch team was sitting at that section of the table. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting on the far side of Blaise, who was sat opposite Annabelle and Stephen Daniels. Annabelle shuffled to the side and patted the empty space beside her, inviting Theo to sit there.

Etean sighed in Draco's ear. "And just what, prey tell, is so important that it cannot wait until after dinner?"

"After dinner, Etean, we sixth years have a Duelling Club meeting, and I wanted to make a few things clear."

"Here he goes." Theo sighed and moved off, walking around the table to sit beside Annabelle. Draco noticed that he wasn't in all that much of a hurry.

Blaise watched every step Theo took and waited until he sat down to carry on. "Right…now that we are all listening." He glared at Theo for a moment. "We play Gryffindor next Saturday, which means that we need to be extra careful tonight. The Gryffindors would love the chance to injure one or more of us, to put us out of action before the game."

"As if," Theo snorted.

"No," Blaise growled at him, "not, as if. Five of us, Theo, are going to be duelling tonight. That's five chances for one of them to get lucky, or for one of us," he glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, "to do something stupid. We need to be careful. All we need now is for one of us to be landed in the hospital."

"Come off it, Cap," Annabelle giggled at Blaise's serious tone, "What the hell could any of those idiots do to any of you that would keep you in the hospital for a week?"

"Plenty of things, Annabelle, plenty…"

Draco tuned out the rest of Blaise's rant. His mind returned to Hermione and her weird behaviour. He replayed the scene in his head. She had smiled at him when he had arrived. He had sat down, eaten his dinner, and talked to…Pansy! The sudden jolt of realisation made him jump. Hermione had seen him talking to Pansy, who had been not a little clingy with him, and then she had gotten mad because she…but no, Hermione couldn't be…jealous? Draco felt a slight twinge of giddiness at the thought. There was no other explanation that he could dream up. Hermione was actually jealous!

Realising that he was grinning for no reason that the others were aware of, Draco schooled his features and returned his attention to the conversation around him.

"…so be careful is what I'm saying. Don't take any chances," Blaise said. He turned to Etean. "That goes double for you. You're the Champion, doubtless Blotter-boy or the over-sized Weasel will have yet another stab at you, and you can't turn down challenges, so keep on your toes."

Etean nodded, and gave a little salute. "Will do," he turned to his plate, "Now, with your permission, I would like to eat my dinner without people barking orders at me." Draco watched in amusement as Blaise almost rose to the bait Etean had dangled in front of him, then scowled and returned to his own food.

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Hermione stared at the Slytherin Table with mounting disgust. Pansy was all over Draco! It made Hermione sick to her stomach to see her smiling at him like some deranged idiot and batting her eyes. Oh god, now she was even whispering little nothings into his ear. Hermione's eyes settled on Draco. He didn't seem to mind Pansy's little musings. The scene was familiar. Pansy and Draco had always been the textbook on and off couple. One minute, they were all over one another and the next, they were barely on speaking terms. In the past, Hermione had never paid much attention, why would she? But now, she couldn't look away. God, she was so…obvious. She was practically drooling on him for heaven's sake. How could he put up with her? What the hell was he playing at?

In Hermione's mind, there were two Dracos, the one she knew now and the one she had known in the past. Hermione was perfectly willing to accept that the old Draco had been more than happy to put up with Pansy and her pathetic little ways. The old Draco would have enjoyed her simpering, fawning attentions, and had even returned them on occasion. The old Draco and Pansy were two of a kind, they deserved one another. But this wasn't the old Draco. Was it? For a heartrending moment, Hermione wasn't sure. The Draco in front of her appeared to her eyes as the old one in every respect. Hermione suddenly felt sick to her stomach as an awful thought hit her. What if he was still as he appeared to her now, still the same bigoted, ignorant bastard that she had loathed for five years? What if the other one, the Draco he appeared to be when he was with her, was nothing more than an act he put on for her benefit? What if it was all part of some twisted joke he was playing on her? Had she been so blinded by whatever feelings she had started to realise that she had for him that she hadn't seen the blatantly obvious truth? Was he really still the git he was?

Draco was looking at her now, wide eyed and inquisitive. Hermione fought to look away, afraid to let him see her stupidity in her face, but the sparkle of his silver eyes held her like a flame holds a moth. He looked away, and she could move. And move she did. Nearly leaping from the table, she left, fighting the urge to run out of the hall. Outside, she felt the urge to be alone, but Gryffindor Tower was miles away. She turned and ran instead to the nearest bathroom, praying that it would be empty.

It was. Inside, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it as the first tears fell. They had hardly wet her face, however, before anger rose inside her to tighten her throat and strangle her sobs.

'Stop that,' a harsh voice in her head rasped at her, 'you're being silly.' The voice was right, Hermione knew it, but listening to it, believing it in her heart, was another matter. Her mind replayed her quiet conversations she had shared with him, hours on end talking about her most private thoughts. God, she had bared her soul to that….that whatever he was. 'Easy,' the voice was calmer now, and it soothed her racing mind, 'relax and think. When he's with you, he has nothing to prove, nobody to impress or to show off to. When he's with you he can relax. He shows you the real him. Ignore the act he was putting on out there.'

The words rang in her ears, and they made sense. 'But,' she thought, still lost in woe, 'how can I be sure?' The thought now that he was going to just turn around and spit it all back at her nearly crushed her. She staggered to the sink and splashed water on her face in an attempt to clear her head. It didn't work. An image of Pansy Parkinson leading the rest of the Slytherins in a chant of 'Crazy Little Mudblood, Crazy Little Mudblood!' made her stomach churn.

'Oh, listen to yourself,' the voice rang out in her ear again, harsher this time, 'what are you, some sort of idiot?'

Hermione's eyes snapped open and locked onto her reflection in the mirror. There was a detached harshness in her eyes that shouldn't be there, "What?" she asked herself in a quiet voice.

To Hermione's horror, her reflection started to move without her moving to match it. Her mind tossed up an image, a memory of another reflection in another mirror weeks ago, that had behaved this way. She had convinced herself then that she had been imagining it, and she must be now too. Then it spoke!

'Look at you, crying like a little girl over nothing. You know this boy, and you know better. Don't you even trust your own instincts?' Hermione saw the lips of her reflection move as she heard the voice in her head. It was her voice, but colder somehow, more clipped and precise than it normally sounded. Hermione's mind froze in panic as her reflection sneered at her. 'You're not like this when you're with him are you? If you are, then can you blame him for having eyes for another girl?'

"What?" Hermione squeaked, unable to fully comprehend that she was, in fact, talking to herself.

Her reflection carried on, ignoring her, 'I mean, would you want to have anything to do with someone who kicked off at you just because you were talking to someone you'd known for years?'

"I don't," Hermione had to force the words out, "I don't believe this, this isn't real." She shut her eyes, but the voice carried on.

'Ok, here it comes, rationality!' The voice sounded annoyed, almost frustrated.

"This isn't real…this isn't real," Hermione repeated over and over.

'Real? How can I be real?' her reflection laughed, 'I mean, what am I after all? A mere reflection, an image trapped in the glass of the mirror, how can I possibly be real?'

"This isn't happening…this is not real!'

The voice laughed again, 'this isn't real…this isn't real,' it repeated her words sarcastically. "Reality…imagination…insanity, what does it matter? Tell me, is reality defined by what you believe in? Or is it no more complex than what you see and hear?'

"I don't see it…I don't hear it…it isn't real!"

'Oh, I give up!'

Silence! Hermione's eyes opened again and she looked up. The face in the mirror had returned to normal. It moved as she did, it blinked when she did, it frowned as she did. Hermione pressed her hand into the pane of the mirror, watching her reflection do the same. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she said, then shook her head, dismissing what had just happened. "My head," she sighed, "it was all in my head, I just imagined it." She breathed the words slowly, trying to make herself believe it.

"Who's there?" a voice from the stalls behind her made Hermione's heart stop, she alone in here, wasn't she? Or was she hearing voices again? She turned to stare at the row of doors.

"Is someone there?" she asked quietly, dreading both an answer and a deafening silence. After a moment, she heard movement and one of the stall doors unlatched. Hermione drew back, half afraid of who or what she was about to see step out of it. To her relief, it was Lavender that appeared.

"Oh!" Lavender's said, leaning on the doorjamb. "It's you," she finished quietly.

Hermione looked over to see that Lavender had been crying; her face was streaked with tears. "Yes," she answered her question, fighting her heart rate down, "just me."

"Who were you talking to?" said Lavender, frowning slightly.

Hermione panicked. Lavender had heard her talking to herself, "Nobody," she said quickly.

"I thought I heard you talking."

Hermione's mind raced. "Oh, I was just muttering away to myself," she forced out a quiet little laugh, "I erm, didn't think anyone was in here." She blushed and tried to hide her panic. Searching for a way to change the subject, she noticed once more that Lavender was upset. "What's wrong?" she asked, stepping forward.

Lavender shrugged. "Nothing," she said quietly, sniffing, "nothing at all."

'She's lying,' the voice came again, speaking in Hermione's ear as though the speaker was standing behind her. Hermione jumped slightly, but forced herself to smile as she struggled to ignore her mounting fear. She stepped forward and took Lavender's arm. Lavender looked at her through teary eyes and took less than a second to break down. She looked away and snuffled hard.

Hermione gave her arm a little squeeze. "Yes," she said, offering Lavender a tissue from her pocket, "that's what I thought." Lavender took the tissue with a shaking hand and blew her nose furiously. "What is it?" Hermione asked her softly.

'Why do you ask that?' the voice said. 'You already know the answer. The reddened eyes, the faded pallor of the skin, the reluctance to speak.' The voice made a sound like a scoff. 'Clearly that boy she's seeing has done something idiotic to upset her.'

Hermione shut her eyes against the voice and focussed her attention on Lavender. She sniffed again. "Finnegan!" she said quietly, tears flowing again.

Hermione's heart sank! 'Told you so!' the voice rang out cheekily.

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed.

Lavender started. "What?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "I meant stop crying," she said softly, "and tell me what happened."

Lavender frowned at her for a moment. "It doesn't matter," she said dismissively as she wiped hard at her eyes, "don't worry about it."

Lavender made to leave, but Hermione stopped her. "Hey," she said, "Come on, Lavender, what happened? What did he do?"

Lavender wiped at her eyes again. "Nothing, he did nothing, that's the problem. He's just being his usual, idiotic self."

Hermione frowned. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Lavender said with a touch of frustration. "You know what he's like, the loud spoken, boyish lout?"

Hermione may not have used those words, and she was certainly surprised to hear Lavender use them, but she had to admit, they did fit. "Yes," she smiled to hide her surprise, "so?"

"So? That isn't the boy I want to be with, and that's not what he's like with me. When we're alone, he's sweet and nice and…but when he's with his friends…" she trailed off and sniffed again. "He changes. It's like he becomes dumber or something. He makes stupid jokes, leers at other girls, prattles on and on about quidditch…sometimes I feel like he barely even notices me," she stopped speaking and walked past Hermione to the sinks. "I don't know, maybe he really doesn't want to be with me at all," she said glumly. "Maybe I'm just a convenient distraction for him…something he can just toss aside whenever he likes."

Hermione turned to watch her, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. 'Imagine that, a boy who seems to change when he's around his friends?' the voice cooed in her ear. 'Remind you of anyone we know?' Hermione's will to ignore the persistent whispering in her ear collapsed. Her mind seemed to slow down to a crawl. Without realising it, she started to walk forward. The voice kept talking as she closed in behind Lavender. 'It seems we aren't the only one being silly, are we?' a laugh, 'But then, are we? These two, Seamus and Lavender, are they really meant for each other?'

'How the hell should I know?' Hermione answered, thought with angry thought, annoyed at the persistence of the voice. It wasn't real, why didn't realising that make it go away?

'Let's find out shall we?' Hermione felt herself slide as if into a trance, her hand extended toward Lavender's wrist. She watched in a confused daze as her fingers closed around Lavender's hand. There was a flash and the world disappeared.

"Oops," a voice from in front of her giggled. "Sorry, Hermione, I haven't quiet got the hang of this thing."

Hermione blinked and shook her head to clear her vision. The picture of Pavarti swirled into view. She was bent over a large, silver camera, fitting a new flash bulb into it with some difficulty. Hermione shook her head again and turned away, blinking the remnants of the flash away. Her vision and her head cleared and she smiled as she took in her surroundings. The early morning breeze washed over her, blowing the scent of the rose bushes that filled the church yard across the jubilant crowd that were gathered, waiting for the happy couple to leave the church. There was a sudden rush of movement and clamour of excitement. Pavarti giggled hard and spun, taking aim at the church door with her camera. Hermione turned and shaded her eyes against the sun, squinting through her grin as Seamus appeared from the shadows and beamed at the crowd. A second later, Lavender appeared beside him, grinning just as wide, resplendent in her white satin gown.

They had done it. Hermione laughed under her breath as she thought about all the scrapes and hurdles they had had to dodge to get here, but they were here, that was all that mattered. They waved and grinned at their friends below as people with cameras gathered to the front and started calling for them to pose for pictures. Pavarti disappeared from sight with an excited squeal, desperate for a good shot of the happy couple. Hermione, along with everyone else present, laughed hard and applauded as Seamus grabbed Lavender and bent her low to kiss her. There was a flash as all the cameras present went off as one. Hermione blinked, and then frowned in sudden darkness.

Lavender was staring at her in confusion. "I said, what are you doing?" she asked.

Hermione stared at her for a moment, then realised that she was still holding onto Lavender's wrist. "Sorry," she said as she released her.

Lavender shook her head. "You are acting weird lately, Hermione, do you know that?" She turned back to the sink and washed her hands in silence before turning to Hermione again. "Listen," she said quietly, "can we…keep this little episode between the two of us? I was just being an idiot, that's all."

Hermione still felt as though she was only half awake. She blinked and then remembered to answer, "Sure, whatever you like."

"Thanks," Lavender patted her on the arm and turned to leave. She had reached the door before Hermione called her. "What?" she asked, turning around.

"I think," Hermione started. She paused, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn't sound crazy, "I think you'll be alright…you and Seamus, I mean."

Lavender smiled faintly. "Maybe," she said and she was gone.

'Now, you tell me what's real and what isn't.' The voice sounded triumphant.

Hermione spun back to the mirror, half expecting to see it grinning at her. Just what the hell was going on? She lifted her hand to touch her image again, then let out a startled shriek. For a moment, just a moment, her hand wasn't her own. A charred, burned, dying hand hung before her eyes. She could feel it, every twitch of pain was as though it was real. Then it was gone. Her own hand trembled in the air.

'I don't understand,' Hermione thought. Expecting and half wanting a response from the voice, none came. Hermione stood, transfixed, staring at her hand as she turned it over and over.

Time passed, and Hermione became aware of the rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. It was the only sound that she was aware of until a sudden bustling roar sounded from outside. Dinner was over and the students were returning to their houses. The door of the bathroom burst open and three girls came in. They ignored Hermione and went about their business, chattering. Hermione shook her head to dismiss her confusion and headed out. There was a Duelling Club meeting tonight, which, on checking her watch, she realised was about to begin. She reached the Entrance Hall and stopped, staring at a bunch of students, Slytherins to be more precise. As Hermione watched, Annabelle Turner separated from them. She and a boy, Stephen something, headed off to the dungeons. The remaining students turned toward the Great Hall, Parkinson among them. Hermione frowned as she looked at her.

'Do you know,' the voice returned, Hermione recognised the tone of it now as being full of suspicion, 'You probably should keep an eye on that one.'

Hermione felt her brow tighten. 'Why? You…I said I was just being silly.'

'I did, and you were,' the voice responded, 'Draco has no interest in her…yet. But she is interested in him, and we both know how stupid boys can be. If you aren't careful, she could steal him away without him even realising it.'

Hermione was way past reasoning the voice away as her imagination. Maybe it was her subconscious mind trying to assert itself, or maybe she was really starting to lose her mind. 'Does it matter?' the voice asked, 'You have a problem, and I know how to solve it.'

'You do? How?'

The voice laughed. 'Simple…trust me!'

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Draco kicked his heels outside the Great Hall, waiting for Snape to finish clearing the tables so they could go inside. Finally the doors opened and the Professor ushered them inside. The room was laid out precisely as it had been when Draco had attended his one and only meeting of the Duelling Club, with one rather odd difference. At one end of the duelling platform stood a huge blackboard. It was over fifteen feet tall and stretched to nearly the full width of the Hall. Draco was drawn to it, desiring a closer look.

"What the hell is this thing?" he asked nobody in particular.

"That is the Challenge Board," said Etean behind him. Draco turned to him as Etean stopped beside him. He made a rolling gesture with his finger, a signal for Etean to explain. Etean nodded toward the board. Draco turned to see Snape standing before it, dwarfed by its sheer size. Snape lifted his wand and tapped the board once. Writing, words and lines, appeared on the dark surface. Within seconds, one half of the board was divided into over a dozen horizontal regions while the other side bore a list of names, the names of each and every sixth year in the school. Each name had a large, empty space beside it, as though prepared for other names to be added later.

Draco frowned. "I think that will require some explanation."

"Perhaps a demonstration will help," Etean said with a grin. He took out his wand and aimed at the board. "Draco Malfoy," he said in a clear voice.

Draco's momentary annoyance at the sound of his name passed when he saw Etean's name appear next to his on the left hand side of the board. An odd symbol appeared next to Etean's name after a moment, and then the words faded. Draco frowned. "Was that supposed to happen?"

"Indeed." Etean's flat response turned Draco round. "See, the procedure is simple. You just aim your wand at the board and say the name of whomever you want to challenge. Your name will then, as mine did, appear beside the name of the person you challenged. That person will be able to see your name, along with the names of everyone else that has challenged them. They will merely then have to aim at the board and say: 'I accept the challenge of …' and fill in the blank. That's it, duel arranged. It will be listed on the right hand side for Snape to schedule, he decides the ordering."

Etean finished explaining. It was a simple system that gave anyone the chance to challenge anyone else, and to be challenged by anyone else, freely and without complication. There was, however, one thing that puzzled Draco. "Hold on, why did your name vanish just then?"

"Ah," Etean turned back to the board and repeated his challenge of Draco, with the same result. "You see the mark that appears next to my name up there?"

"Yes," Draco nodded.

"Well," Etean gestured to his robes, and to the champion's badge he wore, "look familiar?" Draco nodded. "Champions can't challenge others to duel, nor can we turn down challenges. So long as I am champion, I will have to accept at least one challenge per meeting, whereas you and all the others remain free to simply spectate, should you so desire."

That, also, made a certain amount of sense. "So, I take it we'll actually be duelling tonight then, not training or some other exercise?"

Etean shrugged. "Seems that way. Snape wouldn't bother with the board if we weren't, would he?"

"I suppose not," Draco replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Snape at the centre of the room. He looked around and then bellowed for silence. "Challenges will now be accepted for five minutes," he roared.

There was a mutter of conversation, punctuated by the occasional voice rising clearly above the rest to utter a challenge toward the board. Draco scanned the room. Students were gathered, as they always were, according to their houses. In an odd coincidence, the students of both Gryffindor and Slytherin had chosen to stand on the same side of the bisecting table. A look into their eyes showed that neither group of students were happy with the arrangement. Indeed a five foot gap was being steadfastly maintained as though it were a solid barrier. Draco's eyes spotted Potter, Weasley and Dean Thomas huddled together in conversation. A look to the board showed him that all three had challenged Etean to duel. Draco scanned the list of names as more challenges appeared. Blaise seemed to have been right in his assessment; there was a definite trend amongst the Gryffindors to challenge the members of the Slytherin team. Etean himself seemed to have received more challenges than anyone; the names on the board next to his had shrunk to fit and were now so small that they were almost unintelligible. Etean didn't seem phased by this though, not that Draco had expected him to be. He merely stood beside Draco, talking to Blaise about the coming quidditch match as though he didn't have a care in the world.

Draco also noticed, with a degree of satisfaction, that the Slytherins had chosen to ignore Blaise's warning. Theo Nott was already down to duel against half the Gryffindors and Crabbe and Goyle were down to duel…each other. Draco laughed and shook his head; they were getting duller by the day, those two. Draco was surprised to see that Pansy, not one to be fond of duelling so far as he knew, had also accepted a challenge. She was down to duel after Theo had taken on Dean Thomas, and she was to be facing…Hermione!

Draco frowned and searched the room to locate her. He hadn't noticed her come in. He saw her standing alone in the corner by the doors, removed from the other Gryffindors and seemed to be distracted. She was staring at her feet and Draco could see her lips moving in silent conversation, with herself it seemed. Draco sighed, he had been amused by her apparent jealousy of Pansy, but now he was starting to feel bad. She seemed genuinely upset. Draco took two steps toward her, his intention to reassure her and ease her mind when Snape's voice rooted him to the spot.

"Mr Malfoy," he said in a quiet sort of drawl, "I did say that you had only five minutes to arrange your duels. Did you not hear me?"

Draco blinked at him. "I heard you Professor," he shrugged, "I just don't really want to challenge anyone, that's all."

The Professor nodded. "That is of course, up to you. However, you are still required to answer the challenges you receive." He pointed to the board as he spoke.

Draco followed his arm and noticed for the first time that he had indeed, been challenged, by Ernie Macmillan of all people! He blinked and looked around until he located him. Ernie was standing on the opposite side of the duelling platform, looking at him curiously. Draco looked back at him and shrugged, why not?

"I accept the challenge of Ernie Macmillan!" he said, aiming his wand at the board.

The duel was accepted and added to the board. Snape nodded and marched along the table, barking orders for silence as he went. "Now," he said once the noise level had dropped, "it seems that all those of you that wish to challenge have done so, and all those who have been challenged have decided. There still remains the little detail of our champion," he gave Etean a predatory smile, "You seem to have received quite a few challenges, Mr Etean, and you are aware of the rules…" he gestured for Etean to make his decision.

Etean smiled slightly and turned his attention to the board, though Draco was fairly sure he knew what Etean was about to do. Etean raised his arm, "I accept the challenges of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley!" he said, "as usual," Etean added under his breath so only Draco would hear him, and then, louder, he said, "I don't think I'll bother with the rest, Professor."

Snape nodded and waved his wand at the board. The list of names vanished and the arranged duels spread out to cover the entire space. "Now, now," Snape clucked his tongue, "Theodore," he said, turning to look at Theo, "I'm afraid I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to duel against the whole school. It simply wouldn't be fair." Snape took aim, and, one by one, began eliminating Theo's arranged duels. Draco noted that he was trimming the field of challengers to remove the more highly skilled opponents. Theo shrugged, seeming not to care as Snape finished surveying the list and clapped his hands. "So, first up we have Pavarti Patil versus…Padma Patil." He shook his head slightly in disapproval as he took his place at the referee's podium.

The Patil sisters only succeeded in landing such severe tickling curses on one another that they both collapsed and the duel was declared a draw. Following that, Theo stood up and levelled Justin Finch-Fletchley in less than five seconds, and then Dean Thomas in about seven. The duels continued, though Draco's attention quickly waned, his thoughts were never far from Hermione. She was still standing alone in the corner by the side door. Her face was now upturned and her eyes closed in contemplation. He had to talk to her, explain to her that she needn't be jealous, but he needed a moment alone to do it. If someone from Gryffindor or Slytherin noticed, they would stick their stupid interfering noses in, and that would fuck everything up. Still, he needed to talk to her. Draco was struck by just how small and delicate she looked, standing alone as she was, her face was pale, and he was half sure that she was trembling. If Pansy was in the mood to duel, it was little wonder she had chosen Hermione. Pansy was always was one to strike at weakness, it was her instinct. Draco looked over at her, it was an instinct he shared and he knew it, but still…He couldn't get to Hermione without driving straight through the Gryffindors, so he made his way over to Pansy. She didn't seem happy.

"Can I have a word?" he asked her quietly, drawing her away from the others.

"What is it?" she snapped, seeming very nervous.

Draco frowned at her. "I was just going to ask what you were playing at challenging Hermione?"

"Challenging her?" she seemed bewildered. "Draco, she challenged me!"

"What?" Draco asked. He was about to push for more details when he realised that Snape had just called his name: it was time for his duel. Draco released Pansy and moved forward through the crowd to clamber onto the platform. He stood up and faced Ernie.

"Salute!" Snape commanded and they bowed.

"Nothing personal, Malfoy," whispered Ernie as he stood up, smiling. "Just curious about how good a duellist you are."

"Whatever," said Draco absently.

"Positions," Snape shouted. Draco and Ernie turned and walked away from one another. As he strolled back to his mark, Draco looked over at Hermione. She was looking at him now, a fact that nearly made him stop in his tracks. Her amber eyes were wide in confusion as she looked at him. Draco felt desperate for her to know that she was wrong, that she had no need to be jealous of anyone, but his current situation made that somewhat difficult. All he could do was smile at her as he took his mark and had to turn.

Draco faced Ernie and stood ready, eager to get this over with. Snape looked from one to the other, then counted down. "Three…two…one!" and they were on.

It wasn't so much as a duel from Draco's point of view as it was target practice. Even before Snape had finished his countdown, Draco was tensing his mind and slowing time. It was more difficult than waiting for the incoming danger to trigger the response, but Draco had no patience to wait for Ernie to fire. Time slowed to a crawl; Draco imagined that Ernie never even saw him move. He released his hold on time as he levelled his wand at Ernie's heart,

"Repulset!"

There was a flash of blue light and the spell shot at Ernie. It hit even before he had started to swing his arm forward. The blast sent his wand arm flailing and pitched him back into the air. He landed with a thud, five feet from where he had been standing, knocked senseless by the blast.

"Winner," Snape said deadpan, though there was a hint of a smile on his face as he pointed at Draco. Draco nodded to acknowledge him and then hopped off the table. Behind him, Snape revived Ernie and then called the next duelling pair, Hannah Abbot versus Justin Finch-Fletchly, forward. Draco ignored the jubilant slaps on the back he received and the nod of approval from Etean; his gaze and his mind were fixed on Hermione. He had to talk to her, speak to her, or he would go mad. His mind was searching for a way to do it, to distract the gathered crowd, if only for a few moments. He was still reeling when chance gave him what he desired. Hannah defeated Justin with a deft disarming charm. Justin clearly wasn't having a good evening! As they shook hands and vacated the platform, Snape called the next pair. Weasley was to face Etean!

Draco spun on his heel. Etean was already on the platform before Draco spotted him. The sixth years muttered in anticipation and started to bustle forward. 'Etean,' Draco thought happily, 'the perfect distraction!' But there was a problem, Etean would finish Weasley before that idiot even knew he was duelling, and that wouldn't do.

'Keep him busy,' Draco sent the thought to Etean, 'Him and the rest of them.'

Draco saw Etean wink at him out of the corner of his eye, and smiled. It would be quite a sight, shame he wouldn't be paying attention. Snape counted down. Draco alone paid no heed to the start of the duel as he made his way round to Hermione. She wasn't looking at him now, or at the duel. In fact, she didn't even seem to be aware her surroundings at all, standing with her eyes closed as she was. Close to, he could see that she was trembling.

"What's going on, Hermione?" he asked her quietly.

Hermione jumped. Her eyes opened and she looked at him. Her face dropped. "Duelling," her voice sounded strained, "what do you think?"

"No, I mean, why did you challenge Pansy to duel?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked over to where Pansy was standing. "Because," her jaw worked slowly with no sound coming out, "because I wanted to."

She returned her attention to the duelling, though she wasn't really looking. Draco turned and scanned the room. Etean was still happily dodging everything Weasley could throw at him, occasionally half heartedly returning fire. Everyone else was fixated on the duelling, nobody was paying the slightest attention to anything else. He took a step closer to her, so he could whisper.

"But why though?" he moved closer to her, "tell me that you don't think that there's something going on with me and Pansy, do you?"

Hermione didn't look at him. "And if I did, would I be right?"

"No," he said, turning her head toward him, "you wouldn't be. Do you hear me, Hermione, there is nothing going on."

Hermione's eyes didn't soften. "Have you told her that?" she said coolly.

Draco felt a sudden chill. There was a burst of applause from the Slytherins. Etean must have finally dispatched Weasley. Draco glanced over to see him looking momentarily in his direction. Times up, even without communication, the message was clear. Draco took a step back from Hermione, but had to finish this conversation. "No," he said, "I didn't see the need, to tell you the truth." He glanced in Pansy's direction. She was talking to Etean, congratulating him on his victory. The Slytherins looked very pleased with themselves and he knew why, Gryffindor had yet to win a single match against them. Draco looked back at Hermione, she seemed distracted again. A sudden resolution came over him. "I'll tell her right now, if you like."

Hermione opened her eyes and smiled at him, "You can't tell her now, Draco."

"Why not?" Draco frowned at her.

"Because," Hermione took out her wand and moved forward, "now, I have to duel her."

Draco hadn't heard Snape call her name, but he must have. The whole room turned to look at her as she made her way in silence to the duelling platform. Hermione climbed up and stood on her mark. She was waiting for almost thirty seconds before Pansy made it to her place and stood ready. Snape ordered them to bow and then to take their places. Hermione moved out of his view to the far end, while Pansy moved toward him to the near end. She looked definitely nervous.

Snape counted down, "Three…Two…One…"

Draco had no idea what happened next. He saw Pansy swing her arm and clearly heard her roar, "Expelliarmus!" There was a flash of light as Pansy's spell shot out on target, and then there was a scream!

There was pandemonium. Students leapt back from the duelling table in alarm as Pansy howled in agony and dropped to her knees. Based on the sound of her scream, Hermione must have hit her with something terrible, but Draco had seen no curse strike her. Pansy continued to scream and wail, her eyes suddenly flashed wide and stared along the table. Still, Draco saw no curse hit her, he heard Hermione utter no enchantment. Pansy roared again and scrambled back, as if terrified by something in front of her. Draco watched, open mouthed as she picked up speed and only stopped when she hit the wall at the end of the Hall. It was only then, in a gap between Pansy's screams, that Draco heard Hermione roaring too. He surged forward to the table, tossing people aside as he went until he was at the edge. He leaned forward until he saw her. Hermione was lying on her back, cradling her right arm, howling in pain. What the hell had just happened? Draco's mind raced to figure it out.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was up on the table and headed toward her. Snape bounded round his lectern and seized him by his robes, "The duel is not yet over, Draco," the Professor hissed, though he sounded less composed than he normally did.

"Yes it is, Sir," Potter cried, bouncing onto the table behind Snape. It was the first time that he and Draco had ever agreed on anything. Snape refused to release Draco. He held him firmly in place and started bellowing for order at the top of his voice. It was clear in an instant that he was fighting a losing battle. By now Potter and Weasley had reached Hermione and were trying to help her up. Hermione was being none too cooperative; she was stubbornly trying to bat them away from her with her good hand, roaring in pain all the time. Pansy continued to wail at the top of her lungs behind him. Draco ignored her and surged forward again, Hermione needed help. She would let him help her, he was sure of it. Snape heaved and pushed, but was unable to overpower Draco until he had some help. A strong hand seized the back of Draco's neck and hauled him back with alarming ease.

'SETTLE DOWN!' Etean's mental roar was so loud that Draco was sure it had ruptured something in his skull. The pain unsettled him and he staggered back, no longer restrained by Etean's grip. Draco's temple pounded, but he was used to pain like this in his head by now, and so managed to keep his feet. By the time he was able to recover his senses, however, Snape had marched smartly over to where Hermione lay, and had cleared her friends from round her with a snarl. Draco struggled to see her injury more clearly, but Snape was blocking his view. He had a mind to move forward toward her again, but Etean had other ideas. He grabbed Draco and turned him round, shoving him with not a little force at the gathered Slytherins. 'Stay there,' it came through as an order as Draco landed and turned to see Etean striding the length of the table to where Pansy was cowering against the wall. She had stopped wailing now, but looked no less terrified than she had during the duel. Millicent alone had gone over to her and appeared to have calmed her slightly. Millicent stood and shook her head as Etean dismissed her and knelt beside Pansy.

Draco's attention was drawn to the other end of the table as Snape stood up, holding Hermione. Her right arm was bound in what appeared to be a piece of Snape's own robes. She held it close to her chest as Snape turned back to the students. "Now settle down the lot of you," he roared. He turned his attention to Pansy. "Is she injured?" he asked, the question clearly directed at Etean.

Etean stood and turned from the moaning Pansy to look at Snape. "No, Sir…at least not physically. She is scared out of her wits, though."

Snape looked down at Pansy for a moment. "Right," he glanced around at the students faces, "Now…I will escort Miss Granger to the Hospital wing." There was a seriousness in his tone that meant nobody would question him. He looked to Etean. "I will not be gone long. You are in charge, Mr Etean, until I return. Have someone escort Miss Parkinson to her dormitory and then continue the duels." Snape stressed this order, his eyes locked onto Etean's. Etean paused, and then nodded slowly, apparently getting Snape's meaning.

Draco watched as Snape, with unfathomable care, assisted Hermione in climbing from the table. Before she dropped from sight, her eyes met Draco's for one heart stopping second. He saw confused fear and terror in her eyes. Then the crowd was between them and she was lost to him.

"Draco!"

'Draco!' Etean called him, aurally and mentally, spinning Draco round. Etean beckoned him forward. Pansy was sitting now on the edge of the table. Millicent had her arm round her but Pansy seemed not to be aware of it. She just stared blankly ahead of her, tears pouring from her eyes.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked Etean quietly as he hunkered down to him.

"She's in shock," Etean looked at Pansy, a calculating look in his eyes, "She had one hell of a fright."

Looking at Pansy, Draco thought that was an understatement. "What the hell happened here, Etean?" he asked in real bewilderment.

Before Etean could answer, Pansy let out another startled shriek. She shoved Millicent away forcefully and leapt forward at Draco, wrapping her arms about him so tightly that he could barely breathe. "Right," Etean said forcefully as Draco scrambled for air, "we need someone to take her to Slytherin, and I think, Draco," he said with a raised eyebrow, "that you just got elected."

With that he stood and marched to the centre of the table, bellowing above the scattered chatter for order. Draco had never heard Etean use this tone before, he spoke now as though he expected to be obeyed, and it was so. Confusion and scattered whisperings died instantly and all turned to face him. "Snape told us to duel, and I for one do not intend to annoy him, so lets get on with it, shall we?" He glanced at the board. "Blaise, Thomas, you're up."

As Etean stepped back to the lectern to administer the duel, he spared a glance to Draco. 'Go! Take her out of here, and keep an eye on her!' The order in his head was beyond Draco's will to question.

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Hermione heard Snape and Madam Pomfrey conversing in whispers behind the curtain, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Her attention to the effort faded as she tried to remember what had just happened. Her arm burned like it was on fire; she was afraid to remove Snape's hastily tied bandage and look at it. The duel was a blur, a frightened, angry blur into which she could force no clarity. The voice had asked Hermione to trust it, and for some unfathomable reason, Hermione had. What happened next…didn't make sense. She had said things, done things that she didn't understand. Challenged Pansy to duel when in her heart, she knew there was no need of it, ignored Draco's attempt to pacify her, when she knew that even for him to make the effort was proof enough of his feelings for her. She remembered being called forward, conscious of only her own heartbeat. She had stood, she had bowed and she had…duelled, all without any will of her own that she could recall.

The conversation between Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey was brief. Snape brushed past the curtain without as much as a nod in her direction. There was a sudden rush of air as Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain and stepped up beside Hermione. "It never fails," the nurse muttered as she started to undo the bandage, "the Duelling Club meets, and I get a patient to treat."

"Ouch!" Hermione squealed as Madam Pomfrey tugged the bandage off to reveal her arm.

"Oh don't be silly girl, it isn't that ba…" Madam Pomfrey trailed off when she saw the extent of the burns on Hermione's arm. Her touch became instantly more tender. "Oh my," she breathed as she turned Hermione's hand over, gently pulling Hermione's sleeve up and securing it above her elbow. "Expeliarmus?" she spoke as if to herself. "The Disarming Charm did this?"

"Yes," Hermione answered through clenched teeth, the memory of the duel playing again before her eyes.

Madam Pomfrey set Hermione's arm down on her lap and straightened up. "I'll be back in a moment, dear," she said and disappeared round the curtain. Hermione was left alone. She looked down at her arm and winced. Cruel burns and blistering welts covered every square inch of her hand and forearm all the way up to her elbow. It was an oddly familiar image. Hermione's chest tightened as the realisation hit her. The vision the voice had shown her, the image of the burned hand she had seen when she was talking to Lavender, it had been her own! She had seen this moment over two hours ago. Every burn, every welt, every drop of blood was the same. Hermione sat back, careful not to bump her arm and stared at the wall, wondering what the hell it meant. Had she really had a vision of the future? Had the voice been real? Had it shown her a true vision of what was about to happen? If so, were the others real too, the wedding, the baby? Hermione shook her head and dispelled the notion. No, that was silly, visions like that weren't real, they were just a silly fiction that people like Lavender and Professor Trelawney allowed themselves to believe in, just to make themselves feel important. Hermione didn't believe in nonsense like that, but, looking down at her hand again, the logical part of her mind had to admit defeat.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey's return. The matron came round the curtain and relieved herself of several potion bottles which she started to arrange on a small portable treatment table. There were a lot of bottles. Hermione goggled as she tried to read the labels: how bad was her arm?

"Em," she said, getting no reaction from Madam Pomfrey, "What are all of those for?"

"I wouldn't have thought that you were one to ask silly questions Miss Granger," was the curt reply. Madam Pomfrey turned and looked down at Hermione's arm with a slight frown. "I'll need these to treat your arm. Right…to work." She drew her wand and took hold of Hermione's wrist with her free hand. "Now," she paused and narrowed her eyes, "I want you to brace yourself, dear, and let me know exactly what you feel as I treat this wound." Her tone was severe, far more so than Hermione had expected. "Here goes!" she said as she set the tip of her wand against Hermione's injured skin. "Hippocratus!"

There was a flash as the end of her wand flared, and…then an explosion of agony. Hermione felt as though her hand had been ripped off. Pain, the likes of which she had never felt before shot up through her shoulder and detonated inside her head. Hermione felt herself go limp. She wanted to curl up into a little ball and die, but couldn't move. The world swirled and blurred around her and then slowly faded away. The last thing she remembered was hearing a distant, pitiful shriek.

A sudden foul odour made her nostrils flare. The world switched back on, bringing the dizzying pain with it. Her arm felt as though it was on fire, the searing pain had started to travel up toward her shoulder. Hermione moaned and tried to open her eyes but failed. It was as if they were welded shut. She heard a voice, distant, distorted, fuzzy.

"N….ear…eee"

"Mwhaaa…" The second voice sounded as though it was closer to her, it sounded familiar. The terrible stench came back again and triggered a flash of sudden, terrible awareness. Pain flared harder in her arm. She opened her mouth to scream but heard no sound come out. The pain triggered a wave of nausea in her stomach. Hermione's eyes opened and she looked up to see a blurry form above her. Slowly, sensations other than the agony in her arm started to get through to her battered mind. She was cold, whatever she was lying on was freezing…and hard…the floor, she was lying on the floor. Something grabbed her chin and shook her head.

"Can you hear me, Hermione?" said a woman's voice.

Hermione shook her head and willed her eyes to focus. The pain in her arm made concentration on anything else next to impossible, but in the end she managed it. The shape of a face appeared before her, a little more concentration and she could make out Madam Pomfrey.

"Wha…" she shook her head again and tried to force her mind to obey, "What? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, dear, remember?" said Madam Pomfrey, rubbing Hermione's forehead gently.

Hermione looked at her, the image of her face moving in and out of focus over and over, and then she remembered. With a sudden surge of strength, she sat up and howled in pain as her wounded arm collided with Madam Pomfrey's elbow. She would have fallen back onto the floor again if the nurse hadn't caught her.

"Careful, dear," she hissed as she adjusted her position to allow her to help Hermione sit up. "Take it easy. That was a nasty fall."

"Fall?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Yes, dear, you fainted. I am sorry. I didn't expect the reaction to be so severe."

Hermione's mind couldn't fit the puzzle together. "Reaction? What…what…"

"Shhhh," soothed the matron. "All in time, just take it easy until you get your strength back." They remained in place for several minutes, Madam Pomfrey occasionally waving a foul smelling lump of something beneath Hermione's nose. The smell nearly made her wretch, but she did seem to be coming back to her senses a bit; the room had stopped spinning at least. The pain in her arm was now so severe that Hermione felt as though she might pass out again, or be sick, neither appealed to her.

"Now then," said Madam Pomfrey at last. "Lets get you up so we can take care of that arm." Hermione couldn't speak for the pain, she simply nodded and cradled her arm as Madam Pomfrey stood and helped her clamber to her feet. It was hard work. Hermione's knees felt like jelly. Madam Pomfrey had to all but hoist her up and sit her on the bed.

Once Hermione was settled, Madam Pomfrey released her and took up one of the potion bottles from the table. Hermione recoiled as she turned back, fearing another blast of agony. "It's alright," said Madam Pomfrey in a soft voice, "this won't hurt at all, I promise you."

Hermione was afraid, her arm looked twice as bad now than it had before Madam Pomfrey's first 'treatment.' The pain was too much to bear, however, so, after a moment she relented and allowed the nurse to take her arm. Madam Pomfrey laid it gently on the treatment table and started to gently dab and clean the worst of the wounds with a cloth soaked in the contents of the potion bottle. Her arm started to cool, the pain faded more with each dab. Once the wounds were relatively clean, Madam Pomfrey dropped the cloth and selected another potion bottle, this one with a spray top, and started to apply it liberally all over her arm. It was like a blissfully cool rain, draining the fire from her skin. Finally, the pain was manageable and Hermione was able to relax.

"Is that better, dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Hermione nodded. "Much." She looked at the wicked burns on her arm, they didn't appear to be getting better, despite the pain being less. "Will it…can you fix it?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, dear, of course. It will just take a little longer this way, that's all. I'm afraid you'll have to stay the night."

Hermione nodded, relieved. "What happened to me?" she asked.

Madam Pomfrey looked distant for a moment. "Yes, as to that," she said in a slightly forced tone, "I must repeat my apology. You see, I…suspected that the reaction would be painful, but I had no way to know how severe it would be. I wish it hadn't of been necessary, but how else was I to diagnose your condition?"

Hermione was taken aback. "My…condition?" She was half afraid to ask. "What do you mean, Madam Pomfrey?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "That is not yet entirely certain, at least," she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, Hermione wasn't expecting good news, "I cannot be sure of every detail, there are several more tests that I must carry out before…"

"Tell me," said Hermione insistently, "please!"

Madam Pomfrey paused. "As I said, I am not wholly certain, but, based on your abnormal reactions, both to my treatment and to the curse that injured you in the first place, I have to conclude that you have a condition known as, Magical Polarity Disorder."

Hermione had never heard of anything that sounded even remotely like that. "Magical what?"

"Magical Polarity Disorder, dear," Madam Pomfrey repeated slowly, though it made no more sense. "It is a cellular condition that leads to an imbalance between the magical energies in your body. You are…aware of magical polarities, are you not?" Hermione shook her head slowly. Madam Pomfrey sighed and shook her head. "I don't know! What do they teach you in this school?" She set the spray bottle down and pulled a fresh cloth from her robes. "Well…I will try to explain. It is a…complex topic, formerly the subject for an entire field of magical study in itself. So you must understand that I haven't time to explain it in detail tonight, but," she eyed Hermione warily, "no doubt you will manage to learn the rest unassisted." Hermione blushed, the whole school it seemed had her number down pat. "Magic," Madam Pomfrey continued, "exists naturally in the world in two states, positive and negative…and that does not mean good and bad," she added, cutting Hermione's comment off, "The two polarities are merely two sides of the same thing, neither can exist without the other, just as light cannot exist without darkness. As it does with most things, nature enforces a…balance between the two. This balance is maintained at a cellular level in all magical beings, including witches and wizards." She paused to clear her throat. "Magical Polarity Disorder is a rare and temporary condition whereby the natural balance between the magical forces in the body is disrupted. The result," she gestured to Hermione's arm, "is that your body reacts…unpredictably when you are hit by a spell. This reaction, added to the actual effects of the spell in question, combine and often can lead to injury." Madam Pomfrey stopped speaking and paused to swap potion bottles. She sighed. "Therefore you see, when I tried to heal you a while ago, I in fact made matters worse, though that was not my intention, of course."

Madam Pomfrey turned Hermione's arm over and started to clean the underside of her forearm. "The question now becomes how far progressed your condition has become. I want you to be honest with me, Hermione, is this the first time you have had an abnormal reaction to a spell or incantation?"

Hermione gulped as she remembered the way she had bruised so viciously when Harry and Ron had cursed her, and how she had lied to Madam Pomfrey about it. She went red. "No," she said quietly.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "When was it? The last time you were here with me?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said meekly.

"As I recall, dear, you told me that your wound was caused by a fall. I assume that was a lie?"

"Yes."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue harshly. "Would you care to tell me why you lied to me?"

Hermione looked at her knees and shook her head. "I don't know…I…well you see…my friend…Ron hit me with a spell, by accident…I…didn't want to get him into trouble," she finished meekly.

Madam Pomfrey just glared at her as she continued to treat her arm. "Oh I don't know," she grumbled, "how am I be expected to look after the people in this school when they won't even tell me when something is wrong?"

"I'm sorry," said Hermione quickly, "I didn't…I mean I didn't know that it was…" she choked up, "something serious." Hermione looked up, hoping against hope that Madam Pomfrey would tell her that it wasn't serious.

"Well I'm sorry dear, but it is."

"Oh," Hermione's heart sank and landed like a lead ball in her belly. She felt her lip start to tremble in fear.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "But," she continued brightly, "it isn't the end of the world. The main thing is we caught it in time. We will now be able to treat you."

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding in relief. She had never heard of an illness or ailment that Madam Pomfrey couldn't treat. Still, the nurse looked very worried. Hermione fought to process what she had just heard. To adjust it so she could find terms to explain it that her befuddled mind could follow. "So," she said after a while, "I'm…allergic to magic…to spells I mean?"

It sounded ridiculous, but she couldn't think of a better way to say it. Madam Pomfrey looked up and tilted her head to the side for a moment, thinking. "Yes," she said slowly, "In a very vague way, that is accurate. But you must understand that you are not 'allergic' in the commonest sense. You are a witch, how could you be? No," she laughed slightly and shook her head, "It is just that your body is…off balance…and therefore it will not react as it should to magic until the balance is restored."

"But why is it off balance? It never was before. What could have happened to me that caused this to happen in the first place?"

Madam Pomfrey paused, for a moment Hermione thought that she was avoiding her eyes. "I don't know is the simple answer. The unfortunate truth is that this condition is so rare that no clear picture of what causes it has been identified. The condition normally passes quickly in any case. Most of the time, treatment is as simple as waiting it out, while being careful to avoid injuring oneself," a pause, "There are, however, occasions where a little…help is needed." She smiled reassuringly. "As I said, there are a number of tests that I must conduct before I can determine if that is the case." Madam Pomfrey put away her potion bottle and took out a large roll of bandages. "There, that's all I can do for now, it should be right as rain by morning," she said brightly as she started to bandage Hermione's arm carefully. "There will be quite a bit of discomfort however," she smiled again, "I'll give you something to help you sleep."

Hermione tensed instantly. "No," she said, sounding panicked. The thought of being drugged to sleep, of being trapped in her nightmares petrified her. For a heartbeat, she considered telling Madam Pomfrey about her dreams, but the words wouldn't come. Whatever else the matron was, she was a very practical, logical witch. Hermione reassured herself that she would simply pass the dreams off as harmless, the product of stress or provide some other mundane explanation. There was, therefore, no need to mention them at all. Then there was the voice in her head earlier…that worried her. Hermione couldn't think of any explanation for it other than that she was simply going nuts. Hermione was sure that was the conclusion Madam Pomfrey would draw, even if she was too much of a good nurse to say it. Hermione would know it by her eyes and she didn't think she could face it, not within five minutes of hearing that she had some bizarre disease that she had never even heard of.

Madam Pomfrey stared at her, making her blush and avoid her eyes. "Why not?" she asked sternly, tying the bandage off.

"I…I don't need it," was Hermione's answer.

Madam Pomfrey lifted her head and stared at her eyes. "I beg to differ, my dear," she said. "All of the make-up in the castle couldn't hide the dark circles beneath those eyes. No," she added with a hint of finality, "a good night's rest and you'll be the better for it." She didn't wait for an argument. Before Hermione could even speak, she had gathered the potion bottles and disappeared behind the curtain. "I'll send someone up to Gryffindor to get you something to sleep in, dear," her voice came from her office, along with the clink of potion bottles as she rummaged.

Hermione felt the sudden urge to bolt for the door. She knew it was silly, where the hell would she go? Still, she wanted to all the same. Her mind threw up the image of the eyes perpetually circling around her. She could almost see them with her waking eyes. Maybe she could fake it, pretend to drink the potion and then spit it out. Hermione shivered and tried to bundle herself up, forgetting in her fear that her arm was hurt. She hissed in pain as the door of the hospital wing burst open. Hermione jumped as a series of swear words in a familiar voice came to her ears.

Ron's red hair made him unmistakable as he backed into the hospital, dragging what appeared to be a rather heavy lump behind him. He grunted with effort as he cleared the doors and headed for the nearest bed. Careful of her arm, Hermione stood and walked toward him, curious as to the nature of his burden. The answer came as she was halfway toward him. "Come on, Neville, for pities sake stop wriggling." Based on the exasperated tone in his voice, Neville wasn't co-operating.

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked from the end of the bed as Ron dumped Neville, face down, onto the mattress. Neville continued to twitch and tremble violently as Ron turned him over.

"I think," Ron grumbled as he tried to restrain the wriggling Neville, "that it's some sort of paralysing charm gone wrong. Oh…come…on….Neville," he grunted, hefting Neville more securely onto the bed. "Shit!" he exclaimed as Neville's twitching hand caught him in the eye. "Forget it," he let Neville go and stepped back, "I hope Madam Pomfrey can sort him out, Snape couldn't," he shook his head.

"Who did this to him?" Hermione asked.

Ron turned to her and frowned. "Talking to me now, are we?" he said coolly.

Hermione sighed. "Oh for heaven's sake, Ron, it was a simple question." She moved round to get a closer look at Neville, careful to keep her injured arm out of the way. "I don't have the energy for a row tonight."

Ron seemed to shrink. "Fair enough," he half-sighed, his eyes settled on her arm, "how is it?"

Hermione barked out a laugh as she held it up for him to see it bandaged to her elbow. "Great!" she said sarcastically, "just bloody great. How do you think it is?" She saw him bristle with annoyance again, and sighed. "Sorry…sorry…just, forget it."

Their conversation was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey's return. She set a glass of clear liquid down on the treatment table by Hermione's bed. Hermione looked at it, feeling a lump return to her throat. Madam Pomfrey turned and noticed Neville. "What happened to him?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Duelling," was the answer Ron gave. It didn't come as a surprise to Hermione. "Theo Nott hit him with some weird curse that Sn…that Professor Snape couldn't undo, so he told me to bring him here."

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the bedside and stared down at Neville. "Locomotive Aphasia," she muttered as she pulled out her wand and took aim. "Sedaté!" There was a green flash, and Neville settled down. "There, he'll sleep it off now," Madam Pomfrey turned to Ron, "You aren't hurt?"

"No," Ron shook his head.

"Good, you can go then," Ron turned to leave, but Madam Pomfrey called him back. "Can you arrange to have some nightclothes brought down for Mr Longbottom and Miss Granger?" Ron's eyes darted to Hermione, who had returned to sit on her bed. He nodded and left without a word.

Madam Pomfrey returned to Hermione's bedside and examined the bandages. Apparently satisfied with her work, she nodded. "Right," she said stiffly, "I'll need a sample of your blood to test, best to take it now so I can get to work," she drew her wand, "The sooner I start, the sooner I can devise an effective treatment…should one be necessary that is," she added rapidly, then looked annoyed. "I'm sure you're eager to return to that infernal duelling club as soon as possible." She shook her head and aimed her wand at the table. There was a faint pop, and a pile of apparatus that Hermione didn't recognise appeared there. Madam Pomfrey scowled. "Blasted thing," she picked up the clear glass tube and peered at it, "It has been a while since I used one of these."

"What is that?" Hermione asked, nervously.

"I said I needed to take some of your blood, dear," said Madam Pomfrey matter-of-factly as she picked up the second object. To Hermione's horror, she tugged a small, plastic cap free to reveal a silver needle an inch long. "And I cannot use my wand as I normally would, unless you like agonising pain that is." She shrugged. "This is what muggles call a 'hypodermic' needle." Now Hermione recognised it, muggle doctors and dentists used them. Hermione had never been on the receiving end of one, but she had seen them used. Her father's nurse used them to make people's mouth numb before he fixed their teeth.

"Are you going to…stick that in me?" her voice was a squeak.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I'm afraid so, have you ever had this done before?" Hermione shook her head, her eyes fixed on the point of the needle. She had seen people have…injections, was the word…before. Most of them hadn't liked it. One boy had even fainted at the mere sight of one of those things. Madam Pomfrey must have picked up on Hermione's mounting fear because she replaced the cover and set the needle down.

"They don't hurt," she said calmly, "not much, just a little pinch, and it's over before you know it."

Hermione felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead. She nodded quickly to show that she understood, and then gave a startled yelp as Madam Pomfrey pulled out a long, rubber cord. She had no idea what that was for. "Relax, dear, I know what I'm doing. I may not be an expert in muggle medicine, but this procedure I have done," she paused, a strange, faraway look came to her eyes for a moment, "many times," she finished, then smiled and laid a settling hand on Hermione's shoulder. "It's alright, dear, really. Perhaps, if you're scared, you should look away."

Hermione did as she was told. She stared at the opposite wall and braced herself. She felt Madam Pomfrey pull her sleeve up and then tie the cord very tightly around her arm. Fear boiled up inside her. She shut her eyes and balled her fist, wanting more than anything for this to be over. Madam Pomfrey held her arm tight and steady. Hermione felt her fingers tingle as the strap stopped her blood from flowing. The fear mounted, what was Madam Pomfrey waiting for?

The strap released, Madam Pomfrey held Hermione's arm for a moment more, and then she too released her. Hermione's eyes slammed open, her head spun round to see what the hell was going on. Her jaw dropped open when she saw that the glass tube that had been empty was now two thirds full of her blood. Madam Pomfrey wiped at a tiny spot of blood just below Hermione's elbow and smiled. "There, all done."

"What? I didn't even feel it."

"I told you it wasn't that bad, didn't I?"

She gathered up the bizarre apparatus and disappeared once more into her office. The door opened again. Hermione turned to see Ginny walk in, her arms bundled with cloth. She saw Hermione and her face went pale as she spotted her arm. Before she could say anything however, Madam Pomfrey appeared at her arm.

"Not another patient?" she asked.

Ginny jumped and spun to face her. "No, Madam Pomfrey, I just brought these from Gryffindor." She indicated the bundle of cloth. "Ron said you wanted them."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue. "I expected him to fetch them himself, not pass the buck." She reached out and separated a pair of striped blue pyjamas from the bundle in Ginny's arms. "But," she said with a sideways glance at Hermione, "now that you're here, you can assist Miss Granger. I daresay she'll find it awkward to undo her buttons and such one handed. I will see to Mr Longbottom." Hermione blushed slightly at this, she would have preferred to undress alone, but a look at her hand proved Madam Pomfrey's point.

Madam Pomfrey closed the curtains around the bed. Ginny dropped the nightgown she was holding and stepped over to Hermione. "Are you alright? I mean," she smiled, "How are you?" her eyes darted to the bandaged hand, "Does it hurt?"

"No," Hermione lied, "it's just a bit delicate. Really, I don't even think I need to stay here, but I don't have a choice."

Ginny helped Hermione take off her robes. "Well, if Madam Pomfrey says you should stay, then you should stay," she said in a tone that reminded Hermione of Mrs Weasley. "What on Earth did Pansy hit you with? Ron said he heard her cast a stunner, but that wouldn't do that."

Hermione didn't think she could manage to tell Ginny the truth, not tonight. "It can't have been a stunner then, can it?"

"I guess not, maybe Ron misheard or something," said Ginny as she pulled Hermione's tie off and then undid her shirt buttons, grinning as Hermione blushed furiously. "Don't be such a fuddy duddy," she giggled, "I'm not even looking, see?" she turned her head away and undid the last of the buttons. Hermione snarled under her breath and grabbed the nightgown from the bed. She pulled it over her head and let it hang over her shoulders before she let Ginny take off her shirt.

"Ouch!" she hissed as her cuff caught painfully on the bandage, "careful."

"Sorry," Ginny said apologetically, "So, what did you hit Pansy with then? It must have been good, I mean you won the duel, even though," she indicated Hermione's arm as she helped her thread it through the arm of the nightie.

Hermione jumped as Ginny made to unfasten her skirt. "I em, think I can do the rest on my own, Gin, thanks," she shook Ginny off and pulled the nightie down around her with her good hand. "As for the duel…I didn't win. If anything it was a draw," she said.

"That's not they way Ron tells it. He said you had her on all fours in tears and you didn't even appear to have done anything. So, what happened?"

Hermione paused and looked at Ginny. Her mind returned to the duel. It was a blur of anger, rage and then…pain. She played it again, concentrating harder on the moments just before her arm exploded. She had been angry, angrier than she had thought possible. Yes, the memory was clearer now, but there was something…odd about it. The anger hadn't come from her. It was almost as though she had been watching someone else during the duel. But it had been her, she could remember it, just. She remembered the sudden urge to smash Pansy's face in, to tear her limb from limb, to sink her teeth into her neck and tear…a flash of silver light blinded her for a moment as a deafening, roaring snarl filled her ears.

The moment passed as soon as it had come, Hermione shook herself and turned away to finish undressing. Her hand was sweating and her throat was dry. "Are you alright?" Ginny sounded worried.

"I'm fine," said Hermione slowly, taking ragged breaths. "I…don't remember what happened, it all happened to fast."

Ginny sighed and started to gather up Hermione's clothes. "Ok then," she said, "I'll stuff these in the laundry and bring you fresh ones in the morning."

"Thanks," said Hermione. She sat on the bed and her good arm bumped the treatment table. Her eyes settled on the potion that Madam Pomfrey had left out for her, the one to knock her out, and she swallowed a rather nasty comment. As she bent down and caught the scent of cinnamon from it, an idea occurred to her. She looked on her locker for her wand, but it was nowhere in sight. 'Blast! Where is it?' She had no idea where it was; she hadn't seen it since the duel. "Gin," she whispered, before Ginny had time to leave, "is my wand in my robes?"

Ginny laid the robes onto the bed and searched them. "No, not that I see."

"Shit," Hermione hissed. It must have been in her pocket when she had arrived, where else could it have gotten to. Madam Pomfrey must have taken it, it was the only answer, though Hermione couldn't think why. Her mind worked fast. "Have you got yours with you?"

Ginny frowned at her. "Yes, why?"

"Shhh," Hermione stood up and extended her hand. "No time for that, just let me have it for a second." Hermione strained to hear what Madam Pomfrey was doing. Based on the grunts she could make out, the nurse was still wrestling the immobile Neville into his pyjamas. Ginny dropped her wand into Hermione's hand, still frowning. "Keep an eye out," Hermione whispered, looking over toward the gap in the curtains. She returned her attention to the potion as Ginny took position. Her initial idea had been to vanish the potion and claim to have drunk it, but that might not wash. Her mind raced, and then the solution came to her. She dipped the wand into the glass and whispered, "Aquatinus!" The potion bubbled for a second, and then settled. Hermione leant down and sniffed it. It had no scent. It was now just water, perfect.

The mission accomplished, she handed Ginny back her wand. Still perplexed, Ginny left through the curtains. A little over five quiet minutes later, Hermione relished in consuming the glass of water in one go under Madam Pomfrey's watching eyes, making a fair attempt at a disgruntled scowl at the taste.

"Have a pleasant night," said Madam Pomfrey as she extinguished the candles.

"You too," said Hermione sleepily. 'Yeah right!' she thought to herself as she feigned sleep and listened to the diminishing footsteps.

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Etean loosened his tie as he said the password and waited for the wall to withdraw. He walked inside to find the sixth year Slytherins huddled around the fireplace, surrounded by bottles of wine in various states of consumption. By the look of some of them, they hadn't been going easy in the half hour or so since Etean had been talking to Snape. Nott had a distinct glassy look about him and Annabelle was clearly plastered. The party, if that was the right word for it, hadn't spread to the rest of Slytherin house, most of the others were lolling about in small clumps, minding their own business. Etean passed by Blaise, his normal, silent self hunched in a corner removed from the others, bent over his book of quidditch tactics. The rest, Draco included, were talking. Etean didn't need to hear much to figure out what about. "Well," said Nott brightly, handing his empty glass to Annabelle to refill for him and joining his hands behind his head as he watched her bend forward, "you can say what you like, it was an entertaining evening. I don't think a Gryffindor won a single match." He finished with a grin.

Etean noticed with a degree of satisfaction that Nott's grin faded slightly when he saw him. Annabelle turned and sprawled across his lap. "Sorry I missed it," she said with a slight slur, "their fifth years always flatten us," she paused to swig heavily from her own gold trimmed goblet, "I swear, if Ginny Weasley knocks me out one more time I'll..." But what she would do, she never said. She stopped dead when she saw Etean, after a moment to recover, she beamed drunkenly at him. "Ah," she said, saluting with her glass, "If it isn't our glor...," she hiccoughed, "glorious Duelling Champion. I hear you flattened Potter yet again. Well done, my lord."

Etean glared at her; Millicent giggled and turned round to face her. "How many of those have you had, Annabelle?"

Annabelle shrugged and took another swig. Etean scoffed, if his memory served, Annabelle never could hold her wine. He loosened his tie further and dropped into an empty chair by the fire. "It's all smiles in here tonight," he said with a curious look toward Draco and Pansy, who certainly weren't smiling.

Millicent turned on her knees and picked up a full wine glass that had apparently been waiting for Etean. She held it out to him with a smile. "Why did Snape keep you back?" she asked.

Draco sat forward. Etean saw the question coming a mile off. "Did he say anything about…"

"What happened?" Etean cut him off and accepted the glass. "No, he didn't," he answered, looking down at her squatting on the mat by the fire. "He just had some extra duties to dole out and he felt at though I deserved to have my share."

"Share of what?" slurred Annabelle.

Etean tasted the wine, and nearly spat it out again. Someone had been messing with it, though he was sure that the culprit would have referred to it as 'improving.' Far from being a delicate, tasteful drop, it was about an inch short of drain cleaner. It certainly explained how drunken Annabelle was, and how the rest of them would be in short order at this rate. He took another sip and forced it down. "Snape has to go to London on some errand or other," he drawled, not having to try to sound bored, "and he will, therefore, be unable to supervise the Duelling Club meetings for the rest of the week. So he asked me and that Ravenclaw girl…Chang is it…the Seventh Year Champion?" He looked to Draco, who nodded at him. He seemed ready to bolt for the door at any second. Etean continued, "We're to take charge with the third years tomorrow, and then the first years on Thursday."

"Why you?" asked Millicent, blushing when Etean frowned at her, "I mean, why not Dumbledore or one of the other teachers?"

Etean set his glass down and shrugged. "You tell me and then we'll both know. Apparently none of them have the time, they are all busy."

"Busy doing what?"

'Nosy little whelp, this one,' Etean sent to Draco, getting no more than a raised eyebrow in response. Etean looked down at Millicent and rolled his eyes. "How the hell should I know, and why the hell would I care? It isn't like it'll kill me to look after a few kiddies while they try to blow one another up now, is it?"

"If I could interrupt this charming conversation," said Nott, cutting off Millicent's answer, "we were discussing Granger and the little episode earlier."

There was a surge of emotion from Draco at this. 'Easy boy,' Etean sent to him in an attempt to calm him. Etean gave Nott a curious look. "Oh we were, were we?" Etean asked calmly. Nott stared back at him, his eyes betraying a hint of fear.

"Yes," Annabelle said brightly, "we were," she paused to gulp down some more wine, "hey…did you see what the Mudblood did to Pansy?"

'Don't…call…her…that.' The thought from Draco was so clear that Etean almost thought he had said it aloud. Etean kept his eyes on Nott for several seconds, and then looked to Pansy. She was curled up in a ball in Draco's arms, asleep it seemed. Draco looked tense, though Etean could sense that he was curious to hear the answer. "No," said Etean, sitting back and sighing, "I didn't. It was as big a shock to me as it was to you." He nodded to Pansy. "Still spaced out is she?"

Draco frowned and nodded. 'What really happened?' He sent the question that Etean had been expecting.

Etean covered the moment he took to think by taking another mouthful of the poisonous wine. 'The truth, Draco, is that I don't know. I saw no more of what happened than you did,' he answered, careful to keep the extent of his suspicion from the thought. 'The duel started. Pansy tried to disarm Granger…then all hell broke out.'

'Did you see how badly Hermione was hurt?'

Etean paused, even hearing the name ground on his nerves. 'No,' he sent, unable to say more. 'If anything, I saw less than you did.'

Draco sighed and sat back, chewing his knuckle as Annabelle stood up and walked, slightly unsteadily, over to his couch. She jabbed Pansy in the shoulder, at once waking her and making her recoil in obvious fear.

"Leave me alone," she whimpered, real terror in her voice. Etean was surprised by the amount of it. His curiosity about the events earlier was elevated a notch.

Annabelle ignored Pansy's wailing order to leave her be. "Do you want something to drink, Pansy," she waved her glass of wine beneath Pansy's nose. Pansy didn't answer. Instead she turned and buried her head into Draco's robes. "I guess that's a 'no' then," Annabelle shrugged and turned back to plonk herself down onto Nott's lap once more. Draco seemed to grow even more uncomfortable in his seat with the way that Pansy squashed herself into him with each passing second. Etean knew that he would rather be somewhere else, and he could guess where. Though, given how upset Pansy was, if Draco left now, she'd lose it altogether.

'Settle,' Etean sent him, suppressing a frown. 'You won't do any good tearing out of here like a crazed bull, believe me.' Draco simply scowled at him in return.

"Maybe," said Millicent quietly, "she should go to the hospital, Madam Pomfrey might be able to help her."

It sounded like a good idea; most of the Slytherins present nodded. Draco's eyes danced as he recognised an opportunity. He was about to offer to escort Pansy to the hospital when she suddenly sat bolt upright. "No!" she roared at Millicent, "I'm not going to the hospital." Etean noticed that she was shaking, her skin was glistening with a sudden sweat. "Sh…she's there, that's where they took her. I'm not going anywhere near her. I'm…." her voice failed her, she stared, thunderstruck at Millicent for a moment then fell back and hurled herself into Draco's arms. Her outburst left the room in stunned silence, she had even attracted the attention of a number of the other students, who looked up from their respective activities and stared in her direction. Millicent's jaw hung open in shock. She remained gaping like that for several moments, staring at the other surprised faces.

Annabelle was the first to speak. "Was she referring…to Granger?"

Etean had no doubt that she had been, the image of Granger had flooded out of her as she had been talking. The other Slytherins seemed to share Etean's belief without any need for proof. "I think so," Millicent said, clearly in disbelief. She shuffled closer to Pansy and laid her hand on her knee. "Are you…scared…of Granger, Pansy?"

Pansy's head moved up and down. Etean got the impression that she was nodding.

'I have to get out of here,' Draco sent to Etean, losing the last of his mental composure, 'I have to know what happened.'

'And we'll find out,' Etean sent him, with a little calming force to steady his mind, 'but not that way. Keep calm…let these idiots drink themselves into a stupor first, keep calm!'

'Why the hell should I?' Draco responded, anger replacing his worry.

Etean stared at him. 'Because, we have to live with these idiots. And you storming out of here after a girl that, so far as they know, you can't stand will not make that any easier, not tonight!'

Draco didn't answer. Etean's focus returned to the others. The entire exchange with Draco had taken less than a second. Nott let out a quiet, cautious laugh. "Well," he said, "I for one am now really curious," he leaned forward, nearly unseating Annabelle. "Just what the hell did she do to you, Parkinson?" Etean watched his expression shift to a mask of false curiosity, hiding his real emotions. He spared a glance at Draco: he was staring straight ahead, his face a mask of hidden thoughts.

After a moment, Pansy pulled her face back from Draco a little. "It was hor…horrible," was all she said before collapsing into another fit of wailing sobs and buried her face in Draco's neck again. Draco scowled, still frustrated further.

"What was it, Pansy?" Millicent asked again, "What did that little Mudblood bitch hit you with?"

Etean felt Draco tense at the sound of Millicent insulting Granger. 'Easy,' he sent warily, 'Believe me, an outburst here won't help matters.'

Draco didn't listen. He didn't, however, get a chance to respond before Pansy wailed in his ear. "I…I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was muffled by Draco's robes.

'Then stop whinging about it!' The thought exploded in Draco's head. He looked at Etean. 'Help me get the hell out of here, mate.'

Etean knew that Draco was nearing the end of his tether. Pansy was pawing and tugging at his shirt and crying. If Draco lost his temper and started roaring his head off, there would be no living in Slytherin House. But, one problem at a time: first, Pansy, in whose head an answer to the riddle may lie. Etean reached out to her and touched her mind. A chaotic jumble of fearful thoughts and images were repeating over and over, showing no signs of slowing. Pansy was reliving the final moments of her duel with Granger. The rapid flash of events made no sense to Etean. It was all too churned up and jarred. Gently, he applied pressure, settling her mind and pushing her into unconsciousness. As the thoughts faded and peace claimed her mind, he took hold of the image and pulled it from her, taking one of the thousand pieces of the memory from her mind. It landed hard, accelerated to the speed of Etean's own thoughts and flashed across his eyes. Etean wasn't able to suppress a tiny shudder before he managed to bottle it up. He would examine it later and figure out just what the hell was going on. It was too soon, the process couldn't progress that fast. Returning his attention to the present, he realised that Draco was slowly building toward an explosion. Each sly remark or insult the Slytherins made about Granger was edging him closer to breaking point. Now would be a good time to change the subject, but the other Slytherins were clearly very much engaged in the conversation.

"I never knew she had it in her," Annabelle said, emptying her glass.

Millicent scowled. "Had what in her? We don't even know what she did. I didn't see her cast a spell, did you?" she looked around. Draco, like the others, shook his head, Etean saw his jaw tighten.

"It could have been anything for all we know," said Nott. "None of us heard the enchantment and," he pointed at Pansy, "she isn't likely to tell us anytime soon. Trust me, there is more to her than meets the eye. She isn't just Potter's lackey, though she likes to pretend that she is. Who knows what goes on in her head when she's lost in those precious books of hers?"

Etean cast a wary eye at Nott. The alcohol pulsing in his veins was clearly slowing his mind. The wall wasn't quite as stable now. Etean could see the wicked ideas popping into his head. If Draco could see them too…But Draco was distracted. He was sitting there with his eyes closed, breathing slowly in an attempt to keep his temper at bay. Etean searched for a way to avert the coming storm. His mind settled on Blaise behind him. He could sense his growing annoyance at the conversation, and his desire to discuss his favourite subject, quidditch.

The storm blew closer. Annabelle cast an examining eye at Pansy as she stood up to refill her wineglass. Etean's mind teased an idea into shape. Blaise had never really liked Annabelle much, or rather, liked her too much for his comfort. The way she was carrying on was wearing on his nerves. Raw nerves, just what was needed. 'Perfect!'

Annabelle stood her full five feet three as she took a heavy drink. "Who knows what kind of things she found in those books?" she slurred, "I mean, there are things in some of those that will make your hair curl. Personally, I'm not that surprised. I've always suspected that her goody-two-shoes act was all a front. Pretending butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, that she was the good one out of the three, that she was so much smarter than the rest of us. Well," she grinned stupidly, "she got her comeuppance tonight, didn't she? Good on you Pansy," she leaned over to slap Pansy on the shoulder and missed. Nott had to grab hold of her to keep her from falling down. "Get off!" she slapped at him and then snatched his wine glass and draining it, "Serves…serves her right if she…HICK…loses her arm, the little hag. There all the same those Mudbloods, underneath their skin, they aren't two steps up from animals."

That was it, Draco could take no more. He grabbed hold of Pansy and looked like he was about to hurl her off him so he could launch himself at Annabelle. Etean seized him mentally. 'Settle down!' he bellowed while at the same time, with a mental push, he spurred Blaise into the conversation.

There was a thud as Blaise slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. "Oh for pity's sake," he said in an exasperated snarl, "will you ever shut that rambling cow up, Theo? Some of us are trying to get some work done."

The outburst was enough to distract Draco. His head spun along with all the others to look over at Blaise. Annabelle stood up, knocking Millicent's wine glass over in the process. "I hope, for your sake Za..Zabini, that that…remark wasn't referring to me."

Blaise got to his feet. "You bet it was Annabelle, do you ever shut up?"

"Shut up? Wh…what the hell do you m…mean?" The rest of the Common Room was well and truly enthralled in the conversation now. They could see the screaming match coming…or the bloodbath…either way, fun!

"I mean," Blaise answered, walking forward, "that I have been sitting here for the last hour listening to you prattle on and on about nonsense and I've had enough. In Merlin's name, it's bad enough to listen to that whining voice of yours when you have something interesting to say, but now?" He sighed. "Did it ever occur to you that not everyone here wants to hear your opinions about Granger…or about anything else for that matter? Maybe…just maybe we have other things that we'd like to talk about."

An evil grin broke through onto Annabelle's face. "Oh I see, our little Cap-i-poo wants to talk about quidditch, does he?" The grin vanished. "For fuck's sake, Zabini, change the record, will you? I swear, if I hear you say the word 'quaffle' one more time, I'll swing for you."

"Not if I swing for you first, you won't. I'm starting to think that that may just be the only way to shut you up," he shook his head and turned his back on her, "And excuse me if I have something interesting to talk about. Something with a touch more sophistication than gossiping about some stuck up mudblood! But of course," Blaise smiled as he looked around at his audience, seeking approval, "if that's too much for the likes of you, we can talk about something simpler, like daffodils or ladybirds or…oh I don't know, anything that isn't Hermione fucking Granger." Blaise sat down heavily in his chair and looked up at Annabelle with a cold, hard expression.

Annabelle wobbled on her feet as she stared, incensed at Blaise. "Are you just going to sit there, Theo, and let this bastard talk to me like that?"

"Easy there Blaise," said Nott in half-serious tone, spurred lazily into action, "There is no need to turn on one another."

"Oh," said Blaise, rolling his eyes, "here we go. Theo Nott comes rushing in to save his girlfriend. Tell me," he asked as though Annabelle wasn't even there, "how do you put up with her? I mean," he cast a disapproving eye over Annabelle, who was still rooted to the spot with rage, "I'm sure she has her uses, but how do you stop yourself from strangling her?"

Annabelle leaped forward with the suddenness of a coiled serpent striking for her prey. Her hands were an inch from closing on Blaise's throat before Nott caught her. The other Slytherins started to gather round for a better view of the action as Nott struggled to pull Annabelle back. Blaise blinked for a moment, then realised what was happening and surged forward to get at Annabelle, which he did quite easily seeing as how nobody was attempting to stop him. With a great deal of shoving and effort, Nott managed to get himself between the two of them. Etean felt a satisfied smile spread across his lips as he watched the chaos, noticing as he did that nobody seemed to be offering to help Nott separate the warring couple. He stood up and moved away as a flailing arm missed his ear by inches.

'Right,' he sent to Draco, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the sport, 'I'll leave you to enjoy the show.'

Draco frowned. 'Where are you off to?'

'I have work to do.' Etean drained his glass, scowling at the taste. 'This should be enough of a distraction to allow you to sneak out without being noticed. Wait for the fireworks to settle and then follow me.'

Etean left the Common Room, smirking at the noise of the row still raging behind him. From what he heard, Annabelle had managed to land a heavy blow. The trouble was, it was Nott she had walloped, not Blaise. 'Good girl, give him another one.' Etean smiled as the door closed. He knew full well that Draco wouldn't follow him, that he'd run off to find Granger at the earliest opportunity. But one thing at a time, Etean did have work to do. He didn't bother with his cloak, preferring the challenge of moving stealthily without it.

Ducking and dodging from shadow to shadow, pausing to listen for sounds of movement, it took him a full ten minutes to reach the Training Room entrance. Inside, Etean paused, hoping that he was wrong. He shook his head and pulled Pansy's memory out of the deep, dark hole in which he had buried it. He let it expand and pushed it out into the Ether. The room took over and the memory took shape. There was a confusing whirling motion as the walls faded away to be replaced by an image of the Great Hall. The image solidified, it appeared now as though he was standing on the duelling table, looking at the scene from earlier as though he was Pansy. The image remained, frozen in place as Etean stepped aside. He stepped up to the referee's lectern and saw Snape standing there, about to start the duel. Etean turned and mentally summoned an image of Pansy to take her place and complete the scene. He looked around, everything was ready, 'Here we go,' and he set the scene in motion.

"Three…Two…One," the image of Snape counted down.

Pansy took a step forward, raised her wand and roared, "Expeliarmus!" at the top of her voice. There was a flash a hundred times as bright as Etean remembered it and then both Pansy and Granger screamed. Etean froze the moment, took a second to look at the expression of confusion on his own face then stepped forward. Pansy was on her knees with her hands covering her face while Granger was on her back, cradling her arm. The image of Granger was all but a washy shadow. Etean sighed, Pansy didn't have that good a memory of her, it seemed. Etean frowned for a moment before an idea occurred to him. He concentrated and pushed his own memory of the event into the Ether. The two memories mingled, the image of the room shifted. Details appeared, faces sharpened. Etean reached out, reset the scene and allowed it to play again, this time viewing it from the opposite side. The duel started, there was a flash and then it froze again.

Etean let out a harsh swear and dropped off the table. He sat on the edge, looking at the image of Draco. "Did you see what the hell happened?" he asked, then laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the question. Etean played it again, and again, convinced that he was missing something. He saw nothing each time until, on the thirteenth viewing, he noticed an odd shape within the flash of light, the shape of something moving. Frowning, Etean reached out and slowed the image down as the flash detonated. Now he saw it. The flash wasn't just a shapeless burst of light, it was a coherent thing, leaping out of Granger and hurtling toward Pansy faster than anything Etean had ever seen. Etean looked up Granger, and his heart nearly stopped. In slow motion, the golden flash of light in her eyes was as clear as crystal. It lasted for only a heartbeat, but it was there, moments before the flash. Etean climbed up onto the table and moved slowly toward her, ignoring the flash as it repeated over and over. He circled round her, watching every twitch, every movement, feeling a sense of dread mixed with revulsion at being so near her, even her image. Etean reached out and stopped the scene completely and turned his attention to the flash. What the hell was it? He had a disturbing feeling that he knew, but, from this angle it wasn't clear. Pansy was the only one who had seen the flash, and she only saw it face on. Etean walked over, pushing the image of Pansy out of the way so he could take her place. He took a breath and turned.

"Oh hell!" he sighed as he looked down into the wolf's silver eyes. A monster of a thing, made entirely of burning white fire, it was twice the size of any wolf Etean had ever seen and had bared fangs over two inches long. No wonder Pansy was in shock, anyone would be after seeing that thing charging at them. A sight like that would petrify a cave troll. Etean's eyes moved up to Granger, the golden glow in her eyes had almost faded away, leaving them their normal honey brown. She couldn't be aware of it, Etean doubted if she even realised that she had done it, but one thing was clear. It had begun, and far sooner than it should have. 'Great, just great' Etean thought as he waved a hand and banished the image to oblivion. "As if I don't have enough to worry about," he said aloud.

Etean suddenly felt the urge to get out of the room. It was as though the image of Granger was still there, watching him. An anger and a rage like the one he had felt on his first night in Hogwarts threatened to take hold of him. But the feeling couldn't take hold, he wouldn't let it. 'No, Lord Etean, you have a job to do, you know you have a job…to…do!' With a terrible finality, the wall slammed home and his head was quiet. All quiet…silence! He couldn't bear it for a moment longer. He shook his head and left the Training Room, not bothering with stealth once he was away from the corridor. He had reached the passage outside the Common Room when, as if on cue, the door opened and Draco appeared. He turned and saw Etean, making him jump.

"I…was just on my way to follow you," Draco lied, and not very well.

Etean forced his breath to slow before he spoke. "Yes, I believe that alright," he cast an eye at the door, "What did I miss?"

Draco paused for a moment, and then sniggered. "You want to see the mess you've caused." Draco grinned. "Annabelle got one of her teeth chipped. You should have heard her,"

Etean shook himself and smiled. "Blaise got that mad, did he?"

"No," Draco laughed. "That's the funny thing, Blaise never touched her, Theo saw to that. Annabelle was trying her best though, she's stronger than she looks." He shook his head. "Anyway, there were that many random arms flailing about that it was hard to tell what actually happened, but it appears that Annabelle accidentally hit Theo a rather nasty kick in the old family jewels." Both boys winced. "Needless to say, he was none too pleased. He yelled at her and she went to storm off but," he laughed again, "she was so drunk that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and she tripped over Millicent. It was priceless!"

Etean imagined the scene, it did sound amusing. "Sorry I missed it," he laughed.

"Missed it? You caused it!"

"Moi?" said Etean in mock shock. "You can't blame me for that."

Draco smirked. "Don't try to deny it, you made Blaise lose his rag with Annabelle, just to stop me from knocking her block off, though I wish you hadn't. She deserved it, the little slut," Etean was about to say something, but Draco waved him off. "I know, I know, if you hadn't stopped me, I would have probably have said some things that I'd have regretted."

"I did think that you starting a holy war in Granger's defence would, shall we say, not have gone down well? It would certainly have raised an eyebrow or two amongst your housemates."

"To hell with them," Draco spat. "I couldn't care less what they think. I'm not ashamed of liking Hermione if that's what you're thinking."

Etean could see in his eyes that Draco meant what he was saying, that he really didn't care about what the others thought of him anymore. Etean couldn't help but feel a sense of achievement at that. He had actually managed to turn a spineless, self obsessed prat into someone with a touch of genuine character. Etean shook his head. "I wasn't actually thinking that at all, Draco. I can't say that I understand it, but I know that your…feelings for Granger are real, though I won't presume to define them more specifically. But," he said carefully, "think about it for a moment. You and Granger…well it will be quite a surprise for the rest of the world, don't you think? And not exactly a pleasant one for quite a few people that you have to live with."

Draco scoffed. "Like I said, to hell with them."

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

Etean laughed. "I have to live with them, too, Draco, and I for one don't want to be anywhere near the blast zone when you drop that particular bomb." He sighed. "Look, it's your business, tell them, don't tell them, whatever. Just don't do it when I'm around, ok?"

"Fine," Draco paused, "but if it's peace and quiet you want, I doubt that you're going to get it. After tonight's little shenanigans, life in Slytherin will be anything but pleasant, for the next few days at least."

Etean nodded. "I know," then another thought occurred to him, "and it will make tomorrows training session a load of fun, that's for sure."

Draco nodded. "Oh yeah, you did a good job on the team, now that I think of it. Theo and Blaise are still at each other's throats and Annabelle wasn't talking to either of them. That's the keeper and two chasers at loggerheads, doesn't leave much of a team to play Gryffindor."

"I know." Etean shook his head, maybe the row could have been better directed. "What about the rest? Where are they now?"

"Millicent's gone off with Annabelle, I think they were going to one of the bathrooms to try and re-attach Annabelle's tooth. The rest dispersed once the row had died." His smirk faded. "And Pansy…well, I left her asleep on the sofa." Draco paused and looked at Etean. "You really don't know what happened?"

"No," Etean said, straight-faced, "I haven't a clue, honestly."

Draco looked pensive. "I don't get it. Pansy just isn't that good of a duellist. How the hell did she put enough force into that disarming charm to hurt Hermione…" he trailed off and became distant for a moment, "so severely?"

Draco's head and heart went elsewhere. Etean sighed. "Go on…go and find her. I'll see you later," and mentally, he added, 'We do have a lot of work still to do, you and I!'