A/N: I know this chapter took forever, sorry. I really meant to update during the vacation. It took longer than I hadanticipated to finish writing the chapter. But at last I've gotten my applications out of the way, and I have time to write again. So I am here now with chapter 10 of The Negative Side.

I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I personally think it's one of my most creative story ideas. Last chapter was incredibly fun for me. This one is a bit more serious, but at least it's just as long, right?


The Negative Side
Family Code

When Hermione at last regained consciousness, she wondered why it was so dark. She was sure that on normal occasions, she was able to distinguish shades of grey and black during the night. At last she reasoned that her eyes must be close, and attempted to open them.

That was her first mistake. As soon as the light registered, she became aware of the pain in her body. Her head was pounding excruciatingly, she could feel pains in both of her arms and her neck, and she thought she was having menstrual cramps as well. She groaned and gingerly brought her hands up to her head.

"Hermione, you're awake!" Harry's voice rang out. Hermione winced at the sound.

"Not so loud, please." She rubbed her eyes a bit, clearing her vision. She looked around and found herself in the hospital wing. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"About three hours," another voice answered. Harry turned, moving a couple of feet to the left, and Hermione was able to see Draco. He was carefully slipping his shirt on over the fresh bandages on his right shoulder.

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, my shoulder?" Draco began to do up the buttons on his shirt. "It is so good to be back in my own clothes. No offense, Harry, but you need some fashion sense. I wonder if they make a potion for that."

"You are without a doubt the nastiest friend I have ever had," Harry jibed.

"Well, honesty is tough for some people to take. Those fragile, sensitive ones like you."

"I believe I just asked you a question, Draco Malfoy," Hermione cut in. If she let them continue, the friendly argument could go on for quite a while. "Answer it, will you?"

"Calm down, Hermione. You've been through a lot, we wouldn't want you to have a relapse."

Hermione gave him the most confused look she could muster. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. I'll just tell you before you take my head off. While I was fighting the corpses, one of them bit me. Because of all the decaying and rotting those guys tend to do, it was infected rather quickly. Madame Pomfrey applied a poultice to draw the infection out, but she didn't want to heal it before she was sure if it would return. Hence, bandages." Draco made a random gesture in the direction of his right side. He seemed to be unaffected by his injury, but Hermione noted that he moved his right arm very little. She could tell by his eyes that he saw her look. She shook her head slightly, assuring him that she would not let anyone know he was in pain.

"What about you, Hermione? Are you all right?" Harry asked her.

She nodded. "I feel fine. A bit of residual aching, but it's nothing the night's rest won't take care of." She started to sit up. As she did, she noticed that one of the beds had the curtains drawn. "Who's in there?" She pointed.

The others glanced that way. "Terry Boot," Draco told her quietly.

Hermione glanced between the curtains and her friends. She paused at the thought, not sure whether she truly considered Draco to be a friend. "You mean he didn't die?"

"No. They found him alive after the last of the zombies had been dispatched. Dumbledore mended his bones immediately, but there was much more damage than that. They don't think he's going to wake up any time soon," said Draco.

"Do you think we could get out of here before Madame Pomfrey notices that I'm awake? I want to leave without dealing with her." She rose, but the others pushed her down to a sitting position again. "Hey!"

"Sorry, Hermione, but we aren't going to let you out before Madame Pomfrey says it's okay. You could have been killed by that thing, you know." Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was grateful for their concern.

"Thanks, Harry. It's good to know that you want to subject me to-"

Just before she could get out the insult to the school nurse's amazing work, Madame Pomfrey emerged from Terry Boot's curtains with a sigh. She wasted no time inspecting the rest of her infirmary. She noticed Hermione right away. "Ah, you're awake at last." She bustled over and whipped out her wand. Hermione eyed Harry and Draco in annoyance as she was inspected. Madame Pomfrey disappeared into her office after hmmfing a bit.

"If she makes me stay here tonight, I have every intention of blaming the two of you," Hermione told her companions.

"Drink this," Hermione heard as a potion was shoved into her face. It smelled a bit like pumpkin juice, but it tasted more like gasoline. She gagged at first, but Madame Pomfrey was watching her carefully. She held her nose and finished the potion. The flask was taken away immediately. Hermione coughed at the aftertaste, which reminded her of tar and grapes.

As Hermione finished resisting vomitous urges, Madame Pomfrey's wand finished its second examination. With a huff, the woman said, "I am not sure I want to let you go, but you appear all right. It's up to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked incredulously at her. "Well, I feel fine. I'd like to sleep in my bed tonight."

Madame Pomfrey nodded reluctantly. "And Mr. Malfoy, please remember to return in three days so I can check that bite. If the infection stays away, I can heal it without any fuss." Draco acknowledged her order. The nurse bustled away to attend to Terry Boot once again.

Harry and Draco helped Hermione down from the hospital bed, despite her protests that she was capable of walking on her own, and guided her toward the door. Before they had gone three feet from the entrance, she stopped walking, looking over her shoulder. "Could you wait a bit?" she asked them. They let her go back inside, waiting at the door.

Against all that she knew to be proper, Hermione entered the curtains that hid Terry from the rest of the room. Madame Pomfrey was muttering to herself about possible cures. Hermione cleared her throat timidly. Madame Pomfrey spun in surprise to face her. "What are you doing in here? You know you aren't allowed. Please, let me get back to my work, Miss Granger."

Hermione was staring at Terry not quite listening. "Is he… will he recover?"

Madame Pomfrey looked at the ground. "I am not sure. I have never had these kinds of injuries before. Very few beings would dare to raise the dead. It is the highest offense in our society. But Mr. Boot will certainly not be helped by your standing here and staring, asking me questions which I am unable to answer. Please."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know." Hermione left then, rejoining her friends in the hall. She did not speak to them or look at them as they walked. She could hear the conflicted noises they made as they tried to decide whether to ask her if something was wrong. Luckily, they were awful at making decisions.

"This is my stop," Draco said suddenly, gesturing down the hall. "I'll see you two tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, Hermione. You need it." He said nothing more as he headed for the Slytherin dorms.

Harry and Hermione continued up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Now that they were alone, she could tell that he was closer to the dreaded question. The Fat Lady was asleep in her portrait, so Hermione turned to Harry before giving the password. "Harry, just don't ask," she told him. "Please. Let it be."

He did not agree right away, but only a moment passed before he nodded. "Inky marshmallows," Harry said loudly toward the portrait hole, but he was still looking at Hermione.

The Fat Lady started awake. "No need to shout, dearie. I'm not deaf," she mumbled. The portrait swung open, and they could hear snoring coming from the painting as they stepped through.

"I mean it," Hermione said.

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She took Harry's arm. "Everyone is allowed to have secrets, aren't they? You have them. I know you haven't told us everything you feel about Voldemort and all the trouble he has caused."

"I wouldn't say that 'trouble' is the right word, really-"

"But you know just what I mean. You have your secrets, Harry. Let me have mine."

"What are you saying, Hermione?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"There are things I do not want to talk about. This thing that has me upset right now is one of them, all right? The harder you push to find out, the less I want to tell you." She yawned. "Now, stop keeping me up. I want to get up early tomorrow and do some Transfiguration." She headed up the stairs, stifling another yawn.

She was not completely sure why she felt so guilty about the whole affair. She could not help that recovery from fainting was multiple times easier than recovery from a broken neck. She had thought that Terry was dead. He wouldn't have woken up from that, either. And there was no reason for her to have known before everyone else that the men who walked into the Great Hall were dead.

Yet Hermione continued to think that she should have known. Snape had figured it out, though a few seconds too late. He did have more experience with these things than she did, but there was something that nagged at her conscience. From what she could remember, she had felt right away a strange feeling about the walking corpses. It had not registered well until she had noticed Snape's reaction, but she had felt it. She should have paid more attention to her internal warning. It might have saved Terry. As it was, she was not sure he would make it through.


Draco had been working himself up to breaking the news for almost two days. He looked around at Hermione, Harry, and Blaise, wondering how they would take it when he told them what he knew. Blaise would understand more of what he was about to tell them, but he was known to remain silent for hours at a time when significantly surprised. The others might not be so good at containing their feelings.

"Blaise, do you haveTheory of the Countercurse over there?" Hermione asked in a whispery tone. They were in the library, doing their research for Defense class. Since their alliance, the four of them had done most of their partner work together. Lupin had never told them not to, and they found that their trust of each other grew with every day they spent together.

Blaise began to rifle through the large pile of books, searching for the one Hermione wanted. Draco remained silent with the knowledge that he had set that book aside to look at next. He had more important things on his mind. "No, sorry," Blaise said.

"Harry, is it in your pile?" Hermione poked him. He shook his head. Hermione looked pointedly at Draco. "It isn't fair to hoard, you know."

He returned her gaze without blinking. They were all distracted from their work. It was a good bet that that moment was the best choice to begin filling them in. "I have something I need to tell you," he said before he could make up his mind to stop himself.

"Go ahead," Hermione prompted.

"It's very important." He wondered if they would take that statement the way he meant it, as a warning. "I know who it was that sent the zombies."

They all stared at him. In Blaise's face, Draco could read an understanding. The others seemed beyond shocked. Harry stuttered a little, but Hermione quickly spoke. "Who? How do you know?"

"It was Lucius," Draco said. This proclamation was met with silence, and he did not say anything more at first. Their unmoving eyes started to make him itch. "I assume all your voices are still working, and I will therefore ask one of you to speak."

It took a moment for any of them to respond. "That's a pretty heavy accusation," said Blaise knowingly. Draco was aware that what he said had nothing to do with the necromancy itself.

"It's also truth," Draco pointed out. Blaise looked like he was about to speak what was on his mind. "Don't say a word, Blaise." He shut up with a pouting look. Draco wanted to explain things to the others in his own order. It would be more complicated if Blaise began to talk about private family dealings.

Hermione glanced between them, catching onto their secret. She dismissed it for the moment, facing Draco directly and asking him, "How can you be sure?"

Prepared for this question, he took out a folded piece of parchment from his robe pocket. "This was sent to me the morning after the attack. It says 'How did you like my Halloween present?' and I think it's rather clear what that means." He handed it across the table.

"But how do you know that your father sent this?" Harry asked.

"It's his handwriting. How else?"

"Someone could have imitated-"

"No, Potter. They couldn't. You really need to do some research on Spells Everyone Knows But The Savior of Wizardkind. Stop making that face, I know you don't actually resent it. There is a spell that prevents any person who is not you from copying your handwriting. The people who use it are generally the most…"

"Skilled?" Blaise supplied.

"I was actually planning to go with paranoid, but that applies also," said Draco with a laugh. "Thank you, Blaise. The spell is a simple one in essence, but exceedingly difficult to perform. I would have done it myself, but I have not yet worked out the kinks."

"I have," Hermione said. The others looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. "What? I found it in a book during fourth year, worked on it for the entire summer and managed to cast it. I thought it would be worth trying, a little experiment, but it appears to be irrevocable."

"It is," Draco nodded. "It ends at the exact moment of the death of the person who cast the spell. Until then, your personal penmanship is completely safe. It was used often by people on special missions, under high risk of capture, or by people in high positions whose written word was obeyed by just about everyone. Now, it is not as widely known how to perform it."

"This is all fascinating," Blaise cut in. The sarcasm in his tone was clear to Draco, since Blaise would undoubtedly know all thisfor himself. "Of course, there is the matter at hand that still needs discussion."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "I definitely want to talk about the fact that Lucius performed necromancy and set the dead men on our school during my party." She looked pointedly at Draco.

He started by shaking his finger at her. "Now, don't you go blaming me for anything. Especially after I saved your life," he said. She glared at him, most inappropriately, and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed. Harry put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly and gave Draco a withering glance.

"Fine," Hermione said shortly. "Talk."

Draco ignored the mixture of irritation and guilt that nagged at his mood. "I am almost certain that Lucius has found out something about my principles that I did not want him to know. I have not been as immaculate at covering my tracks of late. He must have noticed something about the way I act and realized that I am not working for him, as he has thought for my entire life. He's angry with me for that and wants to force me back under his rule."

"Understandable," Harry said, nodding slowly, "but does that really mean that the attack had anything to do with you?"

Blaise looked at the parchment that displayed Lucius's taunt, and answered. "It was a message."

"Correct. Slytherin two, Gryffindor zero."

"Two, how?" Harry shot back.

"Because I already have the entire thing figured out." He did not wait to continue. "I already know what he is capable of, I've seen it many times. He's had me watch tortures and interrogations before, generally the most brutal…but getting to the point, it's a display of force. Necromancy is not something for a less able wizard to attempt. Not only does it demonstrate how much power Lucius wields, but it reminds me how easily he can gain more. An army could rise from their graves and we would never know until they were too close to stop them. He kills often enough that there would be no trail of empty graves."

"Lucius would kill men in order to raise them, you mean?" Harry asked.

"I would not put it past him," Draco said with a shrug. "But the way I see it, I have two choices. I can sit around and worry about what else he might do, or I can be ready for the next strike."

"I think there is more to this than a simpleshow of power," Hermione added suddenly. Draco fought the urge to quiet her with his hand on her mouth. He knew the message ran deeper, but he had not planned on telling the others. "That is, if you don't mind the Gryffindors scoring a point."

"Please, go ahead." Draco made a gesture to indicate that she had the floor.

"Your father was taken to Azkaban and got out very shortly with bribes and arguments not incredibly convincing," Hermione began, uncrossing her arms. "He knows that he can find a way out of any situation regarding the law. You said you've been less careful; he's following your lead. He meant for you to find out what he did because he wants you to know what he can do to you."

"Thank you, Hermione. I had intended not to bother you three with that tidbit, but some people like to say the more the merrier. I, of course, have never held any regard for that phrase-"

"So you think so as well?" asked Hermione. Draco hesitated before nodding in agreement. "Why weren't you going to tell us?"

"None of you needed to know," Draco said simply.

"It's an important part of the message, Malfoy," Harry broke in. "Friends do not keep such important secrets."

"Perhaps you two Gryffindors are all slumber parties and group therapy, but Slytherins play it close to the chest. You've heard the saying 'Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead', haven't you?"

"I think it's excessively morbid," stated Hermione.

"It is morbid. That doesn't make it any less true," Draco responded. "And we are drifting from the point of this conversation. I want to warn you two, mainly because Blaise is a more cautious individual than either of you, that Lucius coming after you is not unthinkable. He likes to strike at the emotions before striking at the body. This attack was supposed to be for fear. I am not scared so easily."

"Really? Maybe he should bring you into the Forbidden Forest," Harry sniped.

"Calm down, Potter. You should not speak if you don't know what you're saying." Harry narrowed his eyes at this, knowing that he should read into what Draco had just told him. Draco smirked, challenging him to the task. Let him try to put his thoughts in enough order to realize that Draco had been eleven years old when Voldemort had scared him out of the forest. "We've already been in that piece of land this year. You don't remember the part where I saved your life? It wasn't fear that did it."

"I have a better question," Hermione said, briefly raising a hand to draw their attention. When she was sure all eyes were on her, she went on. "Why are you not telling someone about this?"

"What do you mean? I told the three of you, and I was under the impression that you counted as someone. Was I mistaken?"

"I mean authorities, Draco. Not the Ministry, if that's how you chose to interpret my suggestion. In the most blunt terms, I mean Dumbledore." She waited then for him to answer. No one else seemed inclined to say anything more.

"I will not. It is not done. Aside from that, what would Dumbledore do with the information? He already knows to be wary of any more attacks on the school. He would have to be an idiot if he did not. It would be pointless."

Hermione clucked her tongue at him. "He deserves to know, Draco, it's his school that was attacked."

"I had thought that it was our school as well," Draco answered. He knew that it would not steer her away from the explanation she wanted, but it did not hurt to try.

"Draco, I am asking this one thing. If it was you-"

"Malfoys do not sell out other Malfoys," said Draco abruptly. He exchanged a glance with Blaise, who understood immediately. "It's in our family code. Lucius may not be much of a father, but he is part of my blood. There are things you just do not do, Hermione. I will not tell anyone else, and neither will any of you. Oh, except the younger Weasley. I expect she'll know before the day is out."

"You have a family code?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Simple, straightforward guidelines which are generally enforced with crude punishments. Most of the oldest pureblood families have them, especially families predominantly Slytherin."

"I still don't like keeping this to ourselves," Hermione pouted.

"I said no." Draco stared her down. "That's the end of it. You will tell no one."

She nodded, unwilling to say more, and looked away. Draco extracted a quick spoken contract from the others before they both left within five minutes. This left Hermione and Draco alone.

"You are unbelievable, you know," she told him. "Somewhat baffling, actually."

"Baffling, eh? I was aiming for dangerously charming, but I'll take what I can get."

"I am talking about your loyalties. Instead of real morals you have these family guidelines, created by your evil ancestors, no doubt."

"My ancestors are not evil," protested Draco. Hermione rolled her eyes. "All right, maybe the majority of them were evil, but you can't talk about life as though it were as simple as good and evil. I was brought up on that code. As much as I dislike Lucius, hate him really, I still hold the code on a high level of respect. It is not so ridiculous, Hermione."

"Don't say my name," she snapped. After sitting a while in silence, she sighed. "I don't mean to be rude, or to disrespect your values. I simply have my own ideas of what is done or not done. I believe that if a person has the right to know a thing, then you tell them."

Draco peered at her troubled face. "You still haven't told them, have you?"

She smiled slightly. "It is not their right to know. It would make some things easier, but complicate others. Of course, it might be a good plan to tell Harry and Ginny before Ron forgives us and joins the party."

They both laughed a little. "I wouldn't mind if you told them," he said. "If you want to, you know. But if you want to keep it a secret, I will as well. I would not want what we did to cause problems."

She looked up incredulously. "You don't think it already has? Were you even there?"

"Well, there were no physical drawbacks, the world was not put into peril…problems, you say? I personally could not pick one out."

She clenched her jaw, her eyes flashing. "Don't you make me say it."

"Say what?"

"Emotional problems, Malfoy," she said a bit more loudly than she should have. She glanced about, watching for Madame Pince. "You know that you were the first boy I ever… I mean, well, you know."

"I certainly do. I was there, in answer to your previous question. But I still have one question for you. You and Krum, you never…"

"No," she answered quietly. "I was a bit young at the time."

Draco let the silence that next fell sit for a moment. "Is there nothing that will make you trust me?"

"I do trust you, Draco."

"No you don't. I know what trust looks like, and I know caution."

Another pause slipped into their conversation. "I do not believe there is, Draco. You have already broken my trust, and therefore you've lost it. No one who has done so has ever regained it before."

"I'll try my best."

Draco knew that if Hermione had found their silence completely uncomfortable, she would not have remained in the library with him.

…TBC…