FORTY-ONE

Friday, 14 November 1944

It took a moment for Draco to realize that Hermione was having a nightmare. He had been roused from sleep by the hauntingly familiar screams and it was utter agony when he realized they weren't in his head. They were coming from her as she relived her own hell. When the last traces of his sleep subsided, he sat up, staring at her as he contemplated what to do. If she woke while he was looming over her, he was sure that would only make matters worse, but he had to wake her somehow.

As her lips parted and her body began to writhe in pain again, he made his decision and grasped her hand. Once the physical contact had been established, he kept his eyes on her closed lids and let his mind wander into hers.

As he suspected, she was lying on the floor of the Manor while his aunt sat above her. Her screams reverberated around the space, echoing slightly in the recesses of her mind. For a moment, he was rooted to the spot as he watched with horror. It was so akin to his own memories that it was jarring. But he shook away the lingering fear. This was her nightmare. She was being tortured. He could save her this time and he intended to do that.

As he stepped forward to reach for his aunt, all the sound in the room vanished. It felt as though he had been sucked through the vacuum of space and it made him pause for a split second. When the sounds started again, they didn't quite match the scene. Not completely.

"Please, I-I'll give you anything you want. Just not…not that. Anything else. Just take what you want from my mind. I won't fight you, just…"

The words echoed around on a loop. He hadn't remembered her saying anything quite like that, but he had been more preoccupied with trying to block her out than listening to her every word the day it happened. Since this was her mind, he wondered if this is what she had been pleading internally. But what could his aunt have wanted to take that Hermione didn't want to give? Was she begging for her life?

Spurred on by a scream piercing through the repeating words to take anything but that, Draco found his footing and shoved his aunt to the side. She disappeared in a swirl of black smoke and he reached for Hermione, ignoring the way she flinched from his touch. He gathered her in his arms and held her tight, rocking back and forth while he smoothed her hair down her back.

"Shh," he begged, kissing the top of her head. "I've got you. She can't hurt you. Not here. Not ever again. Hermione it's a nightmare."

He felt the tension of her mind give way just a little, but she refused to wake up. She was still hyperventilating and those damn words were still slithering around them like a snake. He shook at her shoulders, hoping it would jolt her out of it enough to at least change the scenery, but nothing happened.

He closed his eyes and thought about what could draw her out of a nightmare. A small smile cracked his lips and he tugged both of their consciences towards the library. His elation was cut short when he realized that Hermione was no longer in his arms. He was standing in front of the Restricted Section. The gate to the entrance had been left open and he could hear voices.

He took a few cautious steps forward, his blood turning cold when he realized Hermione wasn't alone in this scenario.

"That note wasn't meant for you."

"Are you sure?"

It was Riddle's voice. The tone of it left a sour taste in his mouth as he took another step forward. He paused as he realized this was a memory. What note? he asked himself. When did this happen?

She hesitated to answer and Riddle harrumphed in her silence.

"You could have easily placed enchantments on the note to prevent anyone but Draco from reading the contents. Why, Miss Granger, if I did not know any better, I would think you wanted me to know where you were going this morning," he taunted. "And that you would be alone."

Panic formed a lump in the back of Draco's throat as he turned the corner of the last stack and saw Hermione facing a book shelf. Riddle was pressed against her back, touching her as if he could. The worst part, he decided, was that Hermione seemed to be letting him touch her. He couldn't see their faces, but he could see the way she relaxed. It was only a fraction of her tension, but the fact that it dissipated at all made him angry.

"What note?" he snapped.

Riddle and the library evaporated into thin air and he felt himself being pulled through darkness like a portkey hooking his navel. When the motion stopped, he staggered, blanching when he realized that they were on the Astronomy Tower. He hadn't seen it since the night Dumbledore had died. Not unless he was in his own nightmares. But Hermione hadn't been there that night. No, this was a different night. Recent.

Riddle.

He wasn't there with them in the tower, but he could feel his presence around them. He could feel it in his forearm where the Mark burned with familiarity. She was sagged against the wall near the railing and she was hugging herself tight, trembling and crying.

"Please, I-I'll give you anything you want. Just not…not that. Anything else. Just take whatever you want from my mind. I won't fight you, just…" She continued to plead and beg, sounding less and less coherent with each word she spoke.

He ran to her, dropping down to his knees to get on her level. There was true terror making his heart thump a mile a minute. He had never seen her quite like this. Even on the floor of his manor, she had never been this truly horrified. "Hermione!" he shouted.

Her eyes snapped open and after a moment of blinding white light, he found himself back in his own mind, grasping Granger's hand on the replica of his childhood bed. She yanked her hand from his and launched herself over the side of the bed. He barely had enough time to join her and hold her hair back while she retched repeatedly. When there was nothing left, she moved to lie back among the pillows and curled into herself.

He slid out of bed to fetch her a towel and a cup of water. He handed her the items and then sat next to her, rubbing her back with slow, gentle pressure as she rinsed her mouth and sipped steadily at the rest of the water. "Thank you," she croaked, leaning back into him.

"I didn't know what else to do," he assured her, continuing his work on her back.

She nodded and moved so that she could lay her head on his shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered, reaching out to place a hand over his knee. "Was it the Manor?"

He went still for a moment and then nodded. "Do you not remember?"

She shook her head against him. They were just nightmares. He knew the one at the Manor was true, but he couldn't deny that the ones involving Riddle had felt like memories as well and not just fears. His jaw clenched with realization that he wouldn't be able to ask her about the parts with Riddle. If she didn't remember, he certainly wasn't going to risk upsetting her again by dredging it up.

Instead, he just held her while they both calmed down. When it was time to get ready for class, they freshened up, and then went to the dorm to change and grab their school supplies so they could go about their day.

Hermione hated the fact that she had had a nightmare in front of Draco. She knew it wasn't something she planned, but it was embarrassing. And it didn't help that he had gone into her mind to try and ease her out of it. It was thoughtful of him, but it was evident whatever her subconscious had made him witness wasn't sitting well with him. She wished she knew what he had seen, but she was not going to ask him about it.

So they had gone through the rest of the day with this strange aura around them that neither of them could shake. After dinner, she excused herself to her dorm and took a short nap, setting her alarm to wake her shortly before she was due to meet Riddle for the night. As much as she wanted to just stay in her bed and not go, she couldn't risk the consequences.

The longer she laid there, staring at the ceiling, the less tired she felt. She sighed heavily as she drummed her fingers atop the sheets. Soon her mind was running wild with jumbled thoughts, unable to focus. Instead of letting it get the best of her and send her spiraling again, she dug in her bag for the book Riddle had given her and cracked it open. She read until her alarm went off. She was surprised at how much sense it made. She had read it a few times now, but this was the first time she hadn't had to stop and think about the contexts.

As she moved to put the book back in her bag, she saw the flicker of Dark magic coiling around her wrist. Only this time, there wasn't the usual darkness to it. It wasn't trying to pull her into a trance or pulling her negative emotions forward. It wasn't trying to get her to use it in a way she would regret later. It was like her magic was letting her know it had found balance and she was seeing it with her own eyes.

She thought about the words she had read an idea struck her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the loo. She locked the door and set the bag by the door before stepping in front of the floor length mirror. The magic was still swirling around her wrists and she slowly lifted her hands to her hair, wrapping the ends of it around her fingers.

She thought of Tonks and her Metamorphmagus ability. She thought of Polyjuice Potion. She thought of all the base rules of magic she had been taught since the age of eleven. Everything said that one could not alter their physical appearance without the aid of something else.

But with Grey magic…

She gave a mental push, the way she did with nonverbal and wandless spells. The way Riddle had taught her when she used Legilimency on him. She thought of Draco and his white blond hair. She focused on the color. On the way it felt silky and full under her touch. Of the way it would wave slightly as it dried. She continued to think of nothing else and her jaw dropped when her hair started to change. It started where her fingers were, creeping up like vines on a building. One by one, her brown curls relaxed and turned white.

She let her hands fall from her hair as she stepped closer to the mirror. Her hands reached up to touch her reflection, astounded that it had actually worked. A smile took hold of her lips as she took in the sleek blonde waves that fell nearly to the small of her back. As she reached up to touch her hair again, her hair slowly began to change back to normal. After a few moments, her reflection was restored. She looked like herself again.

She wondered that if with more practice, could the change last longer? Was there a way to make it permanent? A thrill of excitement washed over her spine. She wanted to try changing her eye color, wondering if she would be able to alter her entire appearance at will over time. The thrill diminished a moment later when she picked up her bag, thinking how excited she was to tell Riddle of her success.

She froze with her hand on the handle to leave the loo. She couldn't tell him. He had only told her to read; had specifically told her not to practice, but things had changed since then. She shuddered as she recalled the night before when he had watched Draco fuck her in the hall. He had been inside her head, feeling what Draco made her feel. He had given permission to come and had stayed inside of her head long enough to experience it with her.

Clamping down on those thoughts, she hurried away from the loo and into the common room. It was time to go anyway. After a goodbye to Draco who was reading by the fire as he usually was, she marched up to the Astronomy Tower. There, she found out very quickly that her worry was for naught. Riddle was apparently finishing up when she arrived. He stayed long enough to share a few notes with her before taking his leave shortly after. All without even looking at her.

So she used her time on the Astronomy Tower alone to practice more Grey magic in the dead of night with only the moon as her witness.