Harmonia Nectere Passus Chapter 9

"Are you sure you won't come to the Burrow, Hermione? We've got a lot to discuss, seeing as you went to bed abruptly last night," Harry was mentioning as he and Hermione ate breakfast before everyone left for winter break.

Ron was sitting with them, shoveling eggs into his mouth. "Yeah, no one should stay here for Christmas. Mum would love to see you."

Hermione was scooping spoonfuls of porridge up and then letting them fall back into the bowl, her head resting in her hand. She had completely avoided them both the night before, not leaving Malfoy's side in the Astronomy tower until she was sure they'd assumed she just went up to bed and did so themselves. She had only come down to see them off to save face, knowing they'd have no time before the train left to speak of what she'd heard the night before. "Perhaps you should invite Lav-Lav," she said sardonically, glaring in his direction.

Ron withered under her look and Harry looked at her, wide eyed at her tone. "Hermione. Don't be like that."

"Like what, Harry? I invited him to Slughorn's party and he turns around and gets involved with the likes of Lavender Brown. No matter, Cormac was a perfectly formidable date," she retorted curtly.

Harry opened his mouth to argue when, as a demon summoned, Cormac McLaggen sauntered up and scooted into the empty bench beside Hermione. "Hermione, you left rather quickly last night…I didn't even get the chance to say goodnight," Cormac said, putting an arm around her shoulders.

Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron's face turned puce and he ocularly murdered the seventh year. "I—I ate one of those dragon tartare and it made me a little queasy," she stumbled through her words, avoiding his gaze and shrinking under his arm.

She knew Cormac was every bit as much a victim as she—he'd been Imperiused. But that didn't change the feeling of overwhelming nausea she felt at his close proximity. She could feel her breath coming more rapidly and sweat was beginning to bead on her brow as she shrugged him away from her. "Are you feeling better today?" he asked, fingering one of the flyaway curls near her jaw.

"Granger," came the voice of an angel, "I need to speak with you. Now."

Hermione looked up and into the stony façade of Draco Malfoy, fighting to keep a look of gratitude away from her features in front of her friends. Cormac leaned up and glared at him. "We're a little preoccupied, Malfoy. Shove off."

"I believe she can speak for herself, McLaggen. Granger, Professor Sprout had some questions about the nocturnal plants we kept after. I need to see you," Malfoy pressed.

"I'm sure this could wait until after the holidays," Harry said coolly.

"If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it, Potter. And next time, do try not to speak out of turn," Malfoy replied harshly, not turning his gaze from McLaggen. "Granger, a word?"

Ron looked almost relieved that Hermione stood and shrugged Cormac away from herself, even if it did mean that she'd have to follow Malfoy out. Hermione collected her items and walked a pace behind Malfoy, he striding ahead in his perfected arrogance. As they made their way out of the Great Hall, Lavender Brown walked in and gave a fleeting, fearful glance in her direction. Word of Pansy Parkinson's sudden muteness had spread like wild fire and it seemed that Lavender suspected it wasn't the dragon pox. She sidestepped Hermione and made her way quickly to where Ron sat. Hermione had to fight the urge to assault her, hex her so terribly she couldn't walk again. It seemed as though Malfoy was fighting the same urge if the set of his jaw was any indicator.

He led her out of the Great Hall and into the Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, sighing heavily and trying to steady her pulse. "Thanks," she managed to squeak.

He leaned against the sink basin and crossed his arms. "You are far too bright to run around with those two imbecils."

Hermione bit her lip and pushed up from the door. "What do you mean? They're…smart. In their own ways."

Malfoy scoffed. "I think even Longbottom could see how uncomfortable McLaggen was making you."

She was silent for a few moments, padding across the perpetually wet floor to stand next to him. "I don't know if I'll ever feel normal again."

"I don't understand," he pressed further. "These are your two best friends in this world. And yet, neither are worried for your wellbeing?"

"Ron…he's too far up Lavender's arse right now, too intent on making me jealous to notice a huge change. And Harry…I think he just chalks it up to my being stressed over Ron's relationship with Lavender," she shrugged.

"You've lost a considerable amount of weight, Granger. And you were thin to begin with. You never eat at meal times. Your skin and hair are beginning to dull. You look like you haven't slept in a year. Obviously something more than jealousy over a childhood crush is taking place. Your friends are idiots," he reasoned.

She stayed quiet at that. She loved Harry and Ron, and generally, their lazy schoolwork and lack of a lust for learning agitated her to no end. But she found that this was one instance she didn't particularly mind them lacking perceptibility.
"I've got you to talk to," she whispered quietly, looking down at where the water from a long-busted pipe ran in rivulets around her feet, separating where she'd said a quick drying spell around her shoes.

"Are you heading home for Christmas? It's time to head down to the carriages if so," he asked, checking a charmed watch on his wrist.

She shook her head. "My parents are skiing in the Alps. I'm not particularly sporty anyway… and the thought of being cooped up in the tiny Burrow with Won-Won makes me want to claw my own eyes out. Told my mum that I was staying here to get a head-start on a project for next term."

"I'm not going home either. I'm going to be working on my task instead," he said bitterly.

She scowled at him. "I thought we were going to do that after we talked to Professor Snape."

He shrugged. "I still have a job to do and I need to push forward in the mean time. The Dark Lord won't allow me to tarry."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Where?"

"The Room of Hidden Things."

"I'll be there, in one hour. I have something I want to show you," she said, and she strode out of the door to say goodbye to her friends before heading up to her trunk in the dorms.

o-o-o

Granger was staying at Hogwarts over the holiday break. Suddenly, Draco's whole week alone didn't seem too bleak. He waited for her an hour later outside of the already-formed door to the Room of Hidden Things. When she rounded the corner, he pushed up from the stone wall and gave her a weak half-smile. "I thought you'd changed your mind."

She rolled her eyes. "As if that were going to happen. Ron and Lavender were practically having sex standing up while they were snogging their ever so tearful goodbyes."

"We need to devise a plan to ruin her and McLaggen's lives," he said as they stepped into the Room.

Granger turned to him and tugged his sleeve as he made to pass her. "Hey…I may not like it, but Cormac was a victim in this as well."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "How do you figure that?"

"They Imperiused him. He wasn't acting of his own accord!"

"He should have been strong enough to fight their advancements. He's weak, and his weakness got you hurt," he argued.

"Not everyone is trained to fight against the Unforgiveables, Malfoy," she retorted.

All he could see was the mental image of Cormac MacLaggen moving above her, in her and the thought made him feel inexplicably violent. "So what? You think we ought to let him off scot free, then?"

"I think he deserves to know."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew she was right—most people weren't able to stave off even a weak Imperius Curse. But everything in him still wanted to tear McLaggen limb from limb anyway, for not even trying. "You want to have a little heart-to-heart with your rapist, Granger? Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm not going to talk to him at all," she said slowly and Draco didn't like the direction she was taking this conversation.

"Okay. So I plant the memory in his mind. And then what? He just moves on?" he asked angrily. "Are you going to tell McGonagall?"

Granger shook her head. "I couldn't possibly…I couldn't look her in the eye ever again. And, not to mention, she'd tell my parents and I'd never be allowed back to Hogwarts again."

"Well, what if he does?" Draco asked, his tone softening some as she spoke with shame still evident in her voice.

"He won't. He's far too arrogant and narcissistic to admit to being a rape victim, and by two females at that," she told him with a bitter snort.

"So…I plant the memory. And again, I ask you, what do you hope to gain from that?" he asked, looking down at her as they stood in the midst of centuries of lost items.

"At least he'll know. Maybe it'll keep him away from me," she shrugged.

"I can keep him away from you," he countered seriously.

"Draco," she admonished.

"What if it doesn't keep him away, if he doesn't feel some level of remorse? What if what he sees excites him?" Draco asked, wanting to drive his fist through McLaggen's jaw at the thought.

"Just…plant the memory when he gets back," Granger sighed, finally looking away to look around them.

Her eyes flickered over the stacks of forgotten books, articles of clothing, discarded cauldrons. "This is where you've been spending so much time?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

Draco pursed his lips, glancing around them briefly as well. This room had been his personal hell for months now. He couldn't stand the thought of spending any more time in this room, the mere idea driving him mental. The soft hum of the Vanishing Cabinet, the ever present click of the cogs turning as it began to unlock all of its magical secrets, haunted his every waking moment and most of his nightmares. He gestured for her to follow him and he led her through winding paths of trinkets to the back.

Draco pulled a cloth from over the Cabinet and took a step back to stand next to her. A look graced her features, one he hadn't seen in far too long, of wonder and eagerness to learn. "This looks like…" she stopped herself before she finished her statement and that peaked his interest.

"Like…?"

Granger bit her lip again, chewing it into a frenzy, and he wanted to reach up and run his finger across the gnawed flesh. He fought that urge and instead poked the back of her hand that dangled dangerously close to his. "This looks like what, Granger?"

She sighed. "Back before the start of term…we followed you…to Borgin and Burkes. This was there," she said, lifting her hand to run over the black wood, the intricately carved designs.

Fucking Potter. Of course they'd followed him. She looked at him guiltily over her shoulder and he rolled his eyes. "Figures. Well…this isn't the one from Borgin and Burkes. This is its sister."

Draco could practically hear her cogs turning now as she pieced it together. Realization dawned on her and she withdrew her hand from the smooth wood surface. "Your escape."

He nodded. "It's broken. I've been trying to repair it now for months."

She turned from his gaze to look up at it once more. "What have you been doing?"

"A few different spells and incantations. The main one being Harmonia Nectere Passus—it repairs magical connections. Or…it's supposed to," he said scornfully. "It takes a fair bit of concentration and power and is terribly draining of energy and magic."

Granger looked at the Cabinet, running a finger over the gold trim detailing. Draco knew he needed to reveal the rest of the Cabinet's purpose—hiding anything from her would only serve to severe their delicate friendship. "There's more, Granger."

"Hmm?" she said, her mind running too quickly to pay him much mind.

"The Dark Lord…he knows of this Cabinet's existence. And my mother has convinced him that I will need back up when I go to…carry out the task," he told her slowly.

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him in horror. "You're going to bring Death Eaters into the castle?" she asked incredulously.

Draco gripped his wand tightly between his hands to try and steady their shaking. "That is the other part of this equation we need to solve."

Granger's face fell slightly and she sighed. "So, we need to figure out how we're going to keep you from carrying out a single one of Voldemort's plans. Shouldn't be too difficult at all," she didn't even attempt to hide her sarcasm.

"And we need to plot Brown's downfall. And I've got to teach you Occlumency in between all of that," Draco replied grimly.

She perched on the edge of a crowded desk nearby and put her head into her hands. Draco went to stand before her and he smoothed a hand over her curls comfortingly. "I know it's a lot to take in—I've been doing this since September first. But, like you said, we'll solve this riddle, together."

He knelt down in front of her and circled her wrists with his long fingers to pull her hands away from her face. "It will all work itself out."

"You sound so hopeful," she snorted, looking down at him.

"Honestly…I had given up hope already. But…now I have you. And even though we don't have even a semblance of a plan right now, I know that together we can do a hell of a lot better than I was doing alone."

Granger looked in the direction of the Cabinet once more. "Why don't we work on Occlumency this week? I don't really want an undetected way into the castle before we've even had a chance to speak to Professor Snape."

"The Dark Lord will call either way, I suppose," he replied simply.

Granger looked back at him, her eyes full of compassion and empathy. She combed a few fingers through his hair, effectively messing it a bit. "Always so serious," she said with a small, sad smirk, running a single fingertip down his jaw.

He lifted a hand up and mussed his own hair, causing her to laugh when he raised an eyebrow at her playfully. "Better?" he asked.

She nodded, still grinning. "Better."

He stood at that point and he felt a heat pooling around his heart resulting from the sound of her laughs. "I don't have much desire to do anything serious today," he told her, tossing the cloth over the Cabinet once more.

"What do you have in mind?" she inquired, hopping from her seat on the desk.

"Come with me to the Slytherin Common Room?" he phrased his request as a question. "No others stayed behind," he quickly added, sensing her apprehension.

"You want me to go into the Snake Pit?" she teased, leading the way out of the Room of Hidden Things.

"Better than me going into the Lion's Den," he grinned in response.

o-o-o