A/N: Argh! I went back and fixed the random italicization on chapter 17, but then when I looked at chapter 18 to refresh my memory on what was happening, I saw that it did it again. This time I'm double-checking that it only italicized what I wanted after page breaks. Well, here's the next chapter. And I'm REALLY sorry it took so long to get out.

Chapter 19: Kessen

That day, Draco found himself doing several rather odd tasks. He was told to help Bukkex hunt, which he didn't mind at all. But either Bukkex was completely incompetent as a hunter, or the word 'hunt' meant something else in this world, but as Draco followed him along, he used a bow to shoot rubber snakes at trees in an effort to knock down branches for firewood (however, as the snakes were not very heavy, this venture was half-successful at best). Draco was completely bewildered by this, but said nothing. Later, he found himself helping Xokos sew, which really ended up with him standing around in a dress while she hemmed it (that was embarrassing). After that, he helped Xokos paint a chair the color of a ripe cherry, but the paint in itself confused him, it being the texture of jelly.

That night found the three of them seated in front of a fire sipping some type of drink they called 'coppet'. It was actually really good, reminding Draco somewhat of hot chocolate, but with an aftertaste of strawberries. "So…" Bukkex said, "Where are you from?"

"Nowhere around here," Draco said, taking a large gulp of coppet. "But I need to get back, and I don't know how."

"You're-a leaving already?" Xokos exclaimed worriedly. When he glanced over, Draco would have sworn it was Hermione there. "But we haven't even done…" she trailed off at a look from Bukkex.

"Well…do you know in which direction you need to go?" Bukkex asked.

"I don't have any idea. It feels like I'm from a whole different world," Draco said truthfully.

"There is…one way you could find out," Bukkex said cautiously.

Xokos looked over at her husband, and Draco could see she was terrified. A shiver scrambled up his spine, and he looked worriedly between the two of them. But he could see Hermione looking just as terrified as that, surrounded by Gryffindors and maybe even Slytherins alike, all ready to hurt her. "How?" he asked boldly.

"Don't!" Xokos shouted before Bukkex could continue. "You are not going to send him there! If you do, I'll…I'll…I'll run away and never-a come back! Sending him there is death, and you know it, and I'll not live-a with a murderer," she yelled. Chest heaving, she stopped and glared at Bukkex defiantly. Her pose lacked the grace of Hermione's, but in her look and manner, he could clearly make out Hermione. His heart ached, and for an instant he wanted to pull her to him and just snog her as hard as he could. Shaken by this sudden impulse, Draco merely sat in his chair and looked between the two of them.

"He wants to get back, what else do you propose?" Bukkex said calmly.

Xokos bit her lip, turning to look at Draco. He could see a yearning in her eyes that frightened him. "Stay," she pleaded. She looked so much like Hermione in the firelight that he wanted to say yes. "Please," she asked, edging toward him slightly. She even walked like Hermione. The words were on the tip of his tongue… Her eyes were so deep brown, and looking at him just like Hermione would. Almost involuntarily, he opened his mouth to answer her…


Hermione was pleased to go through such a relaxing day. Every hex and spell that was thrown at her somehow managed to go astray, although some did manage to be misdirected onto her bag, which had then split several times. Even so, the day was so much easier than it would have been. She was able to sit and do her homework without worrying that someone was finally going to kill her.

That night, she was even bold enough to try to sleep in her dormitory.

When she opened the door, all conversation was cut off. Lavender and Parvati sat on a bed and smirked, while Hermione stopped short. There were only two beds in the room. All her clothing was strewn on the floor around where her bed had once been, and there was a single bedpost left behind.

"What did you two do?" she said uncomprehendingly, staring at the mess.

"Well," Parvati said coolly, "Most of your bed is somewhere on the quidditch pitch. See, we couldn't leave it whole or you would have just summoned it. So it's all been broken apart. Oh, and then you have to find all the pieces before you could even try for a repairing spell. Hm…what else was there, Lav?" Parvati looked at her nails nonchalantly.

"Oh, right, most of your clothes are all torn up. We don't really know what happened," Lavender said, with wide guiltless eyes, "But they're all ruined. And it looks like a spare bottle or two of ink shattered…" She leaned her head on Parvati's shoulder and looked innocently at Hermione. "What a pity," she said coldly.

Hermione could do nothing but stare at the two of them for a while, and then before she knew it, she'd pulled her wand and was using the full body-bind on the both of them. "It's a pity you guys had to be such bitches," she said calmly. "I mean, we never were the greatest of friends, but even so, I thought we had been okay with each other. I guess even that's over now," she said. Turning to her trunk, she slowly packed everything back up in it, stains and rips and all. Sighing, she levitated the trunk behind her and brought it back to the Room of Requirement.

Once safely there, she set about doing the time consuming task of repairing all of her clothing and removing the ink stains. It took nearly two hours to get through all of it. Her other belongings hadn't been touched, thankfully. Grumbling to herself, she carefully repacked everything and curled up on the couch to fall asleep. Maybe I can sleep with the Slytherins tomorrow.

But then again, Draco and I have only been public for two days, three if you count that day in the library. How could they possibly accept me there?

Resigning herself to cold nights alone in the Room of Requirement, she fell asleep.


That night Draco lay in bed thinking over his decision. She had looked at him so invitingly…he had been so tempted to say yes. But at the last minute he had remembered that Xokos was not Hermione and had said no. It had been close though…so close. A door creaked open, and he could hear the soft patter of footsteps. Opening his eyes, he saw Hermione standing there, with the light from the hallway lighting her face.

"Trako?" a voice asked, and he knew it was not Hermione, just Xokos. She closed the door behind her and walked over to his bed in the dark. He couldn't really see her, but he could feel her presence. Sitting up, he squinted in the dark but wasn't able to see anything. "Are you really going to go?" she said in a small voice. Even her voice sounded like Hermione's. If it wasn't for her accent and certain mannerisms, he would swear that she was Hermione.

"I have to," he told her. He felt the bed tilt as she sat down near him. "I have friends and family to get back to."

"Stay-a here, with us. Please," she said, edging toward him.

"I can't. I have people to get back to," he said again, but by now she was uncomfortably close.

"Why can't you stay-a?" she asked again. "You make me feel weird, but a good kind-a of weird. I've never felt like this-a before. It's like I know you. You feel it too, I know you do. Just the way you look at me, as if I look familiar but you don't remember me. I think we have met before," she said, and before he knew it, her arms were around him, and they were kissing each other.

All thoughts dissipated from Draco's mind. Suddenly it felt like him and Hermione waking up together, like all their little moments that meant everything to him. "Hermione," Draco mumbled.

"Hm?" the girl asked, drawing back slightly. "What-a was that?" Wait a minute, Draco thought, She's not Hermione. Her body feels like it, in my arms, and her mouth does too, on mine, but she's not Hermione. And she's married too.

Sickened, Draco pushed her away, "I can't do this," he told her firmly. "Get out." The silence stretched, and then he heard the door open and close softly. The hall light was off, too, which meant that Bukkex had probably already gone to his bed. Groaning, Draco rolled onto his side and took his pillow out from under his head, laying it down by his side and wrapping his arm around it so that he could pretend that it was Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said into the darkness. "It won't happen again."

Draco lay awake long into the night and fell into a fitful doze sometime in the early hours of the morning.


Soft noises out in the hallway. Opening his eyes a crack, Draco clutched his imaginary Hermione closer to him and tried to bring his hearing into focus. He sighed when he realized it was no use and the door was too thick for him to hear through. The loud male voice sounded angry, and for an instant he thought of his father. But no, his house was never this dark…

Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head. "When the fuck is this nightmare going to end?" he snarled into it before angrily chucking it across the room. He stared sullenly after it into the darkness until he heard it hit something. There was the startling noise of glass shattering, and Draco sighed, deciding he would take care of it sometime when he wasn't so tired.


"Trako." The voice was insistent, and Draco groaned and rolled over. "Trako, it is time to get up. You have slept far overlong, and we were beginning to worry you would never awaken. Will you awake?"

"'Sleeping overlong' had better not mean two in the morning again," Draco snarled quietly, knowing the other man would not be able to hear him.

Bukkex continued like this for some time until Draco finally shouted, "I'm awake!" The older man (was he older? At times Draco was unsure) rambled on for some time, but Draco ignored him as he groped in the darkness for his shirt. Having found it, he rolled out of bed and tugged it on before he snapped open the door. "Yes?" he asked, as politely as he could manage. A thundering headache reminded him of how little sleep he had gotten the night before.

"Yes, well, sirrah, I was just wondering if you wanted to take me up on my offer from last night? Xokos is out, so I may speak frankly with you about it before her return," Bukkex whispered. Draco suppressed his smile as the other man cast his eyes cautiously about, as if worried that his wife may find him discussing this.

"I would," the blond boy reassured the man. Anything to get back to his Hermione.

Bukkex leaned close. "You must find a cozzelt," he murmured, before leaning back again and looking immensely satisfied with himself.

Draco shut his eyes tight to keep from rolling them. When he opened them again, he kept his expression calm and asked, "And what, exactly, is that?"

The other man's eyes widened in a mixture of dismay and doubt. "You don't know?" he sounded hurt. Gaining impatience, Draco merely gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Well, then," Bukkex said, clearly flustered. "They know everything," he offered, as if he were negotiating with a child for its silence.

When he said nothing else, Draco prodded, "And…?"

"Um…they're a bit dangerous," he added, not meeting Draco's eyes. A scrap of conversation from the other day sprang to mind. 'I haven't heard of anyone who ever survived one of those attacks,' Bukkex had said.

"And where can I find one of these?" Draco added restlessly.

"In the water," Bukkex replied. "I can make you a pack and point you in the right direction, but the confrontation with the cozzelt must be all your own," he said, and quickly went off the do so. Left behind in the hall, Draco wondered if he had really just wanted to evade more questions. Shrugging to himself, he followed the man. He could find out plenty on cozzelts by himself.


The journey to the sea took three days. If he'd had a horse, or a carriage, or whatever people normally used for transportation here (besides walking), Draco was sure it would have been much quicker. And Bukkex either had none of these or was unable to spare one for the journey. After all, Draco would not be going back.

The long walk was somewhat of a relief to Draco. He had been unable to do magic for those few days he had lived with Bukkex, but now that he was away from those muggles, he could use as much magic as he liked while traipsing around in the forest. Though he knew no spells for flight (similar to the type used for broomsticks), he could still dull the pain in his feet so that he could continue walking without the pain. He even knew a few minor healing spells, which he used on the bruises and cuts from the fight. He had to use rather large fires at night to keep him warm, as he had left his Hogwarts robe at Bukkex's house.

On the third night, Draco stumbled into a small coastal town. He stayed on the outskirts and pleaded with people to let him spend a single night in their house, even going so far as to promising them that he would not even need food, just a place to stay for the night. However, none would take him, and he ended up sleeping in the hayloft of a barn.

When he woke the next day, he ate an apple (or something like an apple) that Bukkex had given him before going into town. Wandering aimlessly, he found a bustling marketplace, where he then haunted in an effort to find someone who would tell him about cozzelts.

At length, he had decided on three people who may give him the information he sought, a man and two women. He approached the younger woman first. "Hello," he said casually, leaning against her stall and giving a charming smile.

"Good morning," she replied cautiously. Draco was now having doubts about if this woman would tell him of cozzelts.

"I apologize," he said sincerely, "but I am new to your land and was sent on a quest here to find something. I was wondering if you could help me," he gave her a pleading look.

"That depends on what you are looking for," she said coolly. "Certainly I may help if it is nothing my husband may object to." She made it quite clear she thought he was flirting with her. He felt a pang for Hermione and the familiarity of his home, be it at Malfoy Manor or Hogwarts.

"I am actually looking for something called a cozzelt. Would you happen to know of it?" he asked, carefully watching her face.

The young woman's eyes widened and she stepped back in alarm. Before he could say anything, she ran off into the crowd. A man, presumably her husband, looked after her worriedly but could not run off after her and leave their wares untended. Instead, he turned to Draco. "What did you say to her?" he snarled.

"N-Nothing," Draco said nervously. It seemed the whole market had hushed.

"Obviously you said something to make my sister run off like that," he growled. Okay, Draco thought, maybe not her husband. Overprotective brother. This may be even worse… he mentally groaned.

"I am sorry," he interjected. "I truly meant no harm, I was just asking if she could help me find something. I'm on a bit of a quest, see, and I really don't know what I'm looking for or where I could find it. I was hoping that she may help," he said softly.

"And what exactly were you looking for?" the brother asked, his tone quieting a bit. The marketplace seemed to move again.

"Something called a cozzelt. I was told it could help me find…" Draco trailed off. The man's face was pale, and he looked almost like he pitied Draco.

"This quest of yours," he said delicately, "is best given up. But if you still wish to seek it, go to the dock and take a right. Find a house with green paint and black trim, and ask for Kessen. She will aid you. I beg you to reconsider what you do, but if you are determined to do this quest, then I wish you all the luck in the land." With this, he turned to engage another customer in conversation. Draco muttered his thanks, and went off to find a green and black house.

It was hard to miss the house that the man had described. It was painted a bright green, and seemed to give off a glow onto the houses around it. The black paint on the shutters, door, and trim only accented it and made it all the creepier. He took a deep breath and thought of Hermione as he approached the door.

A maid opened the door. She was strangely tall, and he could see nothing of the inside of the house around her figure. "I am looking for Kessen," he told her anxiously. The woman paled slightly, but nodded and shut the door in his face.

Draco was uncertain if he should move or not. After a minute, he turned to go, but the tall woman opened the door again and led him inside. The house was nearly as comical as Bukkex's, but instead of many colors, everything was painted in varying shades of red. There were even tapestries on the wall, depicting humorous events, such as cannibalistic cookies with Christmas frosting eating Halloween-frosted cookies.

Kessen's room was like the rest of the house, and the woman herself lay in bed. All her clothing was black, deeply in contrast to the bright crimson of her bed. She wore a black veil over her face, so in truth he saw nothing of the lady. "Tell me," her voice was somewhat hoarse, but strong and young. He wondered at her age. "What do you seek me out for?"

"I would like to know about cozzelts," he said carefully. "Someone directed me to come to you."

"And why would a young man like yourself wish to know about such dreadful creatures?"

"I come from a distant land. Far too distant to travel by any normal methods, and I did not come here by choice. I left my sweetheart at home, and I fear for her life. I must get back, and I was told that cozzelts know everything, even how I may get home," he said shakily.

"I see," Kessen said, and fell silent. "If you are sure…?"

"I am. I love her. My conscience will not let me leave her in danger like this."

"All right then. Mana, leave us." Draco had hardly realized the tall maid was there, but now she curtsied to her mistress and left. "What country did you come from?" she asked suddenly.

"England," he replied automatically.

"I see…" she said slowly. "I came from Britain as well. Attended Beauxbatons. Never was the best student, but I was sure glad to be there. England though…are you from Hogwarts? Your accent seems most fitted to around that area."

"How did…who are you?" He said in amazement.

"I told you," she snapped, "I was at Beauxbatons. I don't know how I got here, but I was only fifteen. I made a life for myself here, changed my name. I tried to…I tried to go back, but I failed the test. There are others of us. But I am the only one in this town. Now, let's talk about cozzelts. They're admirably intelligent creatures, but can turn violent. A bit like hippogriffs, they are—" she was cut off by a soft groan from Draco. After a moment of silence, she carried on as if she had not heard him. "A bit like hippogriffs they are, you must show them proper respect or they'll turn violent.

"However, if you are careful, and are respectful to them the whole time, they shall grant you your wish. But, of course, there are trials then. I made it all the way to my third test before I failed. The cozzelt said I didn't want it enough, and indeed I didn't. Certainly, I wanted to be home, but I had no sweetheart to hold on to, and no one wants to go back to ridicule and a miserable life.

"So that is my lesson for you. You have to want it enough. Hold onto the thought of that sweetie of yours, and you may make it. Now, cozzelts live in underwater caves. Have you ever tried to put a cup into water upside-down? No? Well, it creates an air pocket when you do, and sometimes (it's very rare, but it does happen) that happens in the water. That's where cozzelts live. So you need to find one of those. I can show you where one is, but you'll have to get there yourself," she said. "When do you plan on going?"

"Now is fine," he told her. "If you're okay with that," he amended.

"All right," she said, heaving herself out of bed. He looked at her clothing in amusement. She wore gloves, and her dress had long sleeves and long skirts. What he could see of her shoes were just as black as the rest of her outfit, and she kept the veil on. He could not see any of her skin, or even her hair. Draco followed her back through the house and out the front door.

Kessen walked out to the dock, and stopped at the very edge. She shaded her eyes from the sun, even though she wore a veil, and then pointed at a small island in the distance. "On the far side of that island, deep under the water is a cave. If you are careful, you may even breathe the large bubbles that come up. Cozzelts, unlike most sea creatures, breathe in the water and instead of keeping the oxygen from it, spit out the oxygen," she informed him. "And their caves can only have so much oxygen before there is a crack through which it can seep out. And that's what the bubbles are," she explained.

"I guess I'm ready then," Draco said shakily. He took off his sneakers and tied them by their laces to the belt loop of his pants.

"Oh," Kessen said, "take this too. You never know when you might need it," she told him cryptically and handed him a dagger. "Careful, it's very sharp."

He tucked the blade and its sheath deep in his pocket. "Thank you very much for all your help," he told her. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"Just tell the cozzelt that Kessen says hello," she said. Draco nodded, and turned back to look at the island again. When he glanced over his shoulder, Kessen was gone. "I guess that's that," he murmured and dove into the water.

The island, Draco found, was much farther than he had originally thought. His shoes weighed him down unevenly, and he wished he had the energy to retie one on his other side, but did not want to lose one of his favorite sneakers in the water. The jeans were not only uncomfortable, but extravagantly heavy, and he almost wanted to take them off. But arriving back at Hogwarts without pants was less than appealing. So he just swam on.

It was nearly dark before he reached the island, and he shivered, desperately hoping he had done his wand no harm. But he had a fire going rather quickly, and nestled down in the sand for the night. Exhausted as he was, he did not feel how rough the sand was under his arm, and was merely grateful for the rest. The dark shadow of meeting the cozzelt loomed before him, and he tried to get sleep. After all, getting back to the real world depended all on this creature, and it would be best not to displease it.

The sun beat down on him, and Draco found it impossible to keep on sleeping. He yawned and stretched, put out the fire, and brushed the sand from him. Trying not to think too much on the task ahead of him, he placed a bubblehead charm on himself before reentering the water.

The water was icy this morning, as it had not been yesterday. Draco tried to ignore the chill—impossible—and swam down as far as he could, but saw nothing. His muscles were aching, and he slowly circled the rocky underside of the island. Nothing. Just before he turned back, he saw a pale…something floating in the water. He curiously went over to it, and saw it to be a large bubble, soaring up to the surface. Draco smirked and followed a slow trail of bubbles down even further.

A large black hole gaped on his left. He began to go in, and suddenly his bubble popped. Draco panicked. Writhing, he gasped for air and choked on water. Desperately, he swam farther into the cave, his cramped muscles working in fierce spasms. The water was so cold, so cold…he wanted air, needed air. He thought of Hermione, and worked even harder to get into the cave. His head hit a rock, and he looked up frantically to see where he was going. There…an air pocket! More relieved than he ever had been, he tilted his mouth up and sucked in the precious bit of air. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it calmed him down a bit. He frenetically checked his surroundings, and finally saw more air upwards. Draco kicked his legs…his air supply was already running out.

His left calf cramped fiercely, and he gasped at the pain. Water invaded his mouth, and he struggled to the surface. Just when he thought he was never going to make it and would drown down there, he came to the surface. Choking and gasping for air, he pulled his weary body out of the water and onto some rocks around the edge. They scraped and hurt, but he couldn't have minded any less, being too preoccupied with his newfound ability to breathe.

"Who enters my home?" A voice said. It made Draco's ears ache and reminded him strongly of nails on a chalkboard.

"My lord, I wish to return to my home, and I heard you could help me," Draco panted, rolling off the rock and bowing low for the creature.

"Help you indeed I can, but you must prove yourself to me. That you managed to enter my home says that you are determined, but now I must find how badly you want to return to this home of yours," the cozzelt said. Draco suspected that this creature had blocked out magic in his home, and that was why his bubblehead charm had failed.

"My lord, I would be grateful indeed to do whatever tasks you set me, so long as you return me home to Hogwarts, and my time," he said respectfully, not moving from his bow.

"Ah, yes. Yet another witch-student. We certainly get plenty of those. Follow me," the cozzelt said.

"Certainly, my lord," Draco murmured, though finding this absurd. It was completely dark in the cave, despite the fact that from under the water he had been able to see that this was a huge air pocket. Indeed, he had even been able to see the rocks upon his arrival! It was almost as if this cozzelt was sucking up the light from the room. His eyes were useless in this darkness. Draco shut them to avoid the temptation, and put his arms out to avoid running into something, following the cozzelt by hearing alone.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and Draco had the fleeting impression that he should turn back, that this was a bad, bad idea.

For some reason, his mind struck on Hermione in his tangled thoughts, and he desperately clung to the thought of her and quickly catalogued the rest of his thoughts. The urge to go back was strong, far fiercer than it should be. Probably compulsion magic had been placed on the entrance to…wherever this thing led. His curiosity was nearly overwhelming as well, and was far more enticing. Fear, of the cozzelt was also strong.

And the bright spark of hope that by doing this he may get back to Hermione.

Focusing on that, and only that, Draco forced his way into the tunnel. The going was rough, with compulsions trying to pull him back the whole way. Gamely, he sheltered the small flame of hope in his heart and pushed on. A steady, ever-louder noise filled the air.

It took Draco a long time to understand that the noise was he, chanting "Hermione" as if it were a counter spell for the compulsions. His harsh bark of laughter at the realization frightened him, and he fell silent as he struggled along the way.

His feet ached from walking on the rough stone of the floor, but he dared not slow any more at the risk of losing the cozzelt in the dark. Doggedly he clambered on, not allowing himself to think of anything other than Hermione. He had read about compulsions, but never personally experienced one. This cave seemed to have layer upon layer of them, slathering on the doubts, the urges to turn and run, to stop and examine his feet, to sleep. The only way to fight a compulsion was to concentrate on something that was none of the things you were being pressured to do.

Finally the cozzelt stopped, and Draco stopped too, unsure of where to go. Abruptly, the compulsions stopped as well, and he choked down a sigh of relief. "Kessen," he said raggedly, "sends her greetings."

"You have done well," the cozzelt rasped approvingly. "Unfortunately for you, that is not all you are doing. Find the wall on your right." Draco obediently turned ninety degrees to the right and walked forward as straight as he could. The wall pressed against his fingertips, and there he stopped.

"And now, my lord?" he asked.

"Go forward until you hit another wall." He did. "Now, turn to your right again, on that same wall, and you will find a doorknob. Open the door and step inside." Trembling, Draco did so. "You are to stay in there for two days. No food, no water. Oh, and you cannot sleep either. If you sleep, then you do not get your wish."

"Yes, sir."

There was a raspy, choking noise. "I am not a sir," the cozzelt told him, and he thought he heard amusement in the creature's voice. The sound of the door clicking shut was unmistakable, and dim light flooded the room.

Draco examined his surroundings. It was a small room, no larger than a twin size bed would be. The rock walls were rough, and the light had no apparent source. He decided not to dwell upon this and sat down, only just realizing how taxing it had been to go all that way in the dark battling against compulsions. But he could not sleep.

So, he searched for the most uncomfortable position he could find. There was a small jut in the wall, and if he sat just right, it jammed uncomfortably in his back. He placed his feet flat on the other wall, and his knees were bent up. Something clattered to the floor beside him, but at the risk of getting more comfortable, he did not move. A draft ruffled his wet clothing, which sat heavily and salty on his skin.

With a sigh, Draco leaned his head back against the wall and settled in. It was going to be a long three days. Water dripped somewhere in the background.


An alarm blared somewhere. Hermione grumbled softly. It was too early to wake up already. She reached around and pushed down on the sleep button, something she rarely did. But the alarm would not stop. She blearily turned on a light and looked up to see an owl on the table, screeching for all it was worth. "All right, all right!" she snapped at it. "I'm up!"

The tawny owl stuck out its foot, and she untied the letter from its leg, despite its attempts to nip at her fingers. She broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

I wish to see you a week from now. Usual place, 11 PM.

--Tom

The parchment fell from her fingers. How could she have ever forgotten about Voldemort?


Nobody plans to be half a world away at times like these
So I sat alone and waited out the night

—Brand New, "Guernica"