~ The Soul Connection ~

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and settings belong to J.K Rowling.

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Chapter 4

As the days went by, Hermione's mood continued to deteriorate. She'd had her fair share of bad days, yet she'd never felt as depressed as she'd been feeling lately, and never so suddenly. She was thoroughly convinced that Draco's spell was the reason for her misery. When she awoke on saturday morning, she slipped on Harry's Invisibility cloak that she'd taken the night before and left the Gryffindor tower. It was early enough in the morning that nobody else was awake and the sun was only just beginning to illuminate the castle walls. Hermione tip toed throughout the chilly castle until she arrived on the seventh floor, at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. She'd been waiting for an opportunity to sneak inside and investigate what Draco was up to, and when Harry and Ron left for Quidditch practice the night before, she took the Invisibility cloak. Given that Draco appeared tired all of the time, Hermione figured that he must be in the Room late at night, and so he ought to be asleep by dawn.

Once inside she was comforted by the eerie quiet. The Room seemed to be empty, despite being well lit. Hermione rarely went to the Room of Requirement and figured it must be magically illuminated at all hours. She began to walk towards the centre tentatively, her eyes scanning along the ground around her for anything new or out of place. It seemed hopeless though, as she had no idea what to look for and if Draco had hidden something, it would take days or even weeks to find by herself. Convinced that she was alone, Hermione pulled the Invisibility cloak off of herself and stretched her arms as she kept walking, yawning slightly. She suddenly saw something move out of the corner of her eye and before she could react, she heard a voice.

"Don't move, mudblood. I warned you not to follow me again, you're going to pay for it this time," Draco said coldly. Hermione closed her eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. If Draco took the cloak, she would have to explain where it was to Harry the next time he wanted to use it. It was Harry's fathers cloak, his most cherished possession. And if Draco wanted to hurt her here in the Room, nobody would know.

"I'm just browsing the junk, students come here all the time," said Hermione, slowly turning to face him.

"No other students come here except me now," Draco snapped. "You're here because you're spying on me."

"I'm here because you cursed me, and I'm not leaving until you show me the spell you used," said Hermione, looking determined.

"Take out your wand and drop it on the ground," said Draco, pointing his already drawn wand at her threateningly.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"I can do whatever I want while we're in here."

"Expelliarm-!" Hermione started as she drew her wand.

"Stupify!" Draco roared, cutting her off. The Gryffindor girl dodged his stunning spell and slipped behind an old cupboard, out of sight.

"You chose a really bad time to come here," Draco said furiously.

"I'm not Harry, Malfoy. We don't have to fight, I just want to know what spell you used and how to reverse it," Hermione said from her hiding place. She sounded nervous, even panicked, which gave Draco at least some satisfaction in his anger. He moved silently into a different position, eyes locked on the cupboard as he attempted to catch sight of her. Hermione kept creeping backward, behind more piles of junk, trying to listen to his footsteps.

"Oh we're going to fight alright, mudblood. It's about time you learned your place," Draco answered. Hermione gasped in pain as she trod on something amongst the junk. Draco heard her gasp and leapt forward, feeling a dull ache in his foot as he did.

"Reducto!" he shouted, pointing his wand towards her. She jumped behind a set of drawers which exploded violently, sending shards of wood in every direction. Hermione crawled quickly out of sight into another corridor of junk, gasping in pain. Draco continued sending exploding projectiles in her direction, spiralling into a rage as he destroyed everything in sight to get to her. Hermione felt herself being consumed by rage also, though it didn't feel like her own. She never felt this kind of rage, it had to be coming from him somehow. It took all her willpower to stop herself from standing up to try and duel him. The more anger she felt emanating from Draco, the more terrified she felt herself become. She heard the Slytherin sigh a few paces away from her.

"You're terrified, aren't you? Books don't teach duelling, perhaps you should've thought about that before following me after I told you not to," Draco said in contempt, as he continued walking amongst the destroyed junk. He didn't know how it was happening, but he felt her fear so tangibly that it was almost making him afraid. It was distracting. He had to remember why he was angry. Because her finding out what he was doing would ruin everything, her telling Dumbledore what he was doing could get his parents killed. The combination of fear and anger still caused him to pause, however.

"Look, the spell I used had no description, like I said. It was pointless for you to come here."

Hermione wanted to respond, to say that she didn't care if it didn't have a description, she just wanted to see its written incantation so that she could research it herself. She knew that he was very close however, and if she spoke he would find her. Whilst she was confident in her academic abilities, he was right: she was lousy at duelling and certainly didn't like her chances against an enraged Malfoy. She heard his footsteps growing ever closer and even if she tried to crawl, he might hear.

"I'm dropping my wand, Malfoy. I don't want to fight you, it's not why I came," said Hermione shakily, and she let her wand clatter to the ground as proof. She pulled herself up into a sitting position against a pile of old books. She felt her heart rate increase rapidly as the Slytherin caught sight of her and approached with a wicked smile. Draco used Accio to take her wand and stood before her.

"Just because you stopped fighting, doesn't mean I will," he said coldly. "Is that Potter's Invisibility cloak? I've always wanted one of those."

"Please Malfoy, you know that spell has done something to both of us. It's only getting worse, I think I'm starting to feel everything you feel and it's exhausting," Hermione began to plead, clutching Harry's clock to her chest tightly.

"Well that's your problem, because I feel just fine. Now give me the cloak," Draco growled. Hermione shook her head defiantly, and as she did so she felt another stab of rage.

"I don't think you fully understand the situation, Granger. Breakfast is hours away, nobody knows you're here, and I can do things to you that will make you wish you'd die," Draco snarled, his voice laced with hatred and malice. The Gryffindor girl began to visibly shake as he said this, however her grip of the Invisibility cloak didn't slacken.

Draco felt an overwhelming amount of fear and panic in that moment, so much so that he even looked over his shoulder in confusion, thinking that possibly someone else was here and he was in serious danger. He knew that the bookworm was right, he knew the spell had done something to them because it was a two-way street: what she felt, he was feeling too. He didn't like the situation any more than she did, but so far it hadn't caused him any problems and he had more important issues to focus on. The Invisibility cloak might be just what he needed to kill Dumbledore and live to tell the tale.

"If you take the cloak, Harry will come for you," said Hermione shakily, holding her knees to her chest.

"Good, I want him to try. I'll Sectumsempra him and see how he likes it," Draco spat viciously. At this he felt an enormous tug of guilt and sadness wash over him as Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears.

"You don't have to do this, I know you're under a lot of stress, I-I can help you," Hermione quickly began to say. The prospect of Harry losing his fathers cloak to Draco and getting hurt to get it back tore her apart. Draco laughed at what she'd said, but her pathetic guilt was beginning to get on his nerves. Ever since she'd walked into the Room, he'd been feeling her emotions more and more.

"You can't help me, nobody can. But that cloak might, and I'm not going to tell you again," said Draco, growing impatient as he tried to ignore her emotions.

"You don't understand, Dumbledore gave it to Harry. If you take it you wouldn't even have it long, I'll - I'll go straight to Dumbledore," Hermione stammered. This seemed to get through to Draco somehow, because he paused and had a calculated look at the mention of Dumbledore giving Harry the cloak.

"Fine. But I did say I was going to teach you a lesson for following me, mudblood, so that you'll learn to stop. Don't worry, this won't hurt... much," Draco said with a cruel smile. Hermione didn't even hear the incantation of whatever spell he intended to punish her with, as she tried to dodge it by wrapping herself in the cloak and pushing herself out of the way.

As she stood and ran invisibly from the Room, she felt her nose begin running uncontrollably. Once outside, she sneezed, and felt her body begin to ache as though she'd just come down with the worst flu imaginable. She stumbled all the way back to the Gryffindor tower in increasing discomfort and sickness, until she realised what curse he'd decided to use on her. The Curse of the Bogies; a childish curse that everyone eventually learnt about by their second year, but one which was incredibly uncomfortable to be afflicted by. There was only one counter-curse, which of course, required a wand... and he still had hers.

Back inside the Room of Requirement, Draco chuckled slightly as he realised he still had her wand and hoped he'd landed the curse. As he walked towards the Cabinet to continue working, he imagined with delight Hermione spending the weekend sick as a dog. Then he sneezed. He sniffed, sneezed again as he wiped his nose... which started running.

"You've got to be fucking joking."

Once Hermione returned to the Gryffindor tower, she grabbed the nearest box of tissues she could find, went straight up to her room, and collapsed in her bed. The others were still sleeping, while Hermione felt like she'd just run a marathon. Her entire body ached from walking throughout the castle feeling the effects of the curse, and she blew her nose to get some relief. It was useless though. She'd read about the Bogies Curse and knew that nothing would truly quell the symptoms except for the counter-curse. She would have to suffer with a running nose, constant sneezing, body aches, exhaustion and headaches all weekend, or at least until she confronted Draco to get her wand back. Because there was no way that she could tell anyone how he'd used the curse on her, least of all Harry, since that would also mean admitting that she'd stolen and risked losing his cloak to go and spy on Draco - when it was she who'd said not to.

On top of that, the sense of hopelessness and melancholia that she'd been feeling more and more ever since Draco used the Half-Blood Prince's spell on her, had escalated to an all consuming anguish. As she curled up in bed and covered herself with blankets, she struggled to hold back tears. Through the anguish all her thoughts revolved around Draco, and she constantly came to the same conclusion. Harry must be right: Draco had to already be a Death Eater or at least be becoming one, if he was willing to try and take the Invisibility cloak by force and use a curse on another student. The curse alone could get him in a lot of trouble, though she doubted he cared about detention. He didn't seem to care about anything at all, except whatever it was that he was desperately doing in the Room of Requirement. Whatever would drive Draco Malfoy, the most spoiled brat she'd ever come across, to experience this much pain and anguish to do something he clearly didn't seem happy about doing... and to keep it up all year long? It could only mean that he was doing something for Voldemort.

The more she thought about the Half-Blood Prince spell he'd used on her, the more convinced she was that they were in some way magically linked. She'd already seen something he'd seen, his owl. She'd heard a voice in her mind, which could only have been his, after he left Charms class. The depression she was feeling was all coming from him. In the Room of Requirement, the rage was his from being followed. He seemed to know how terrified she felt, so as much as he refused to discuss it, perhaps he was feeling her emotions too. Just like Sectumsempra, whatever spell this was had to be dark magic. She felt like the best decision was to go to Dumbledore - he would know how to fix it. Perhaps he would know more about what Draco was doing, too, if she told him what happened in the Room. But then, wasn't his work with Harry and Voldemort's horcruxes more important?

If this doesn't work, he'll surely kill them. If he hasn't killed them already...

The words resounded within Hermione's mind clear as day, yet they were entirely foreign. The voice within her mind didn't even sound like her own, it was just like what she'd heard after Charms class. Hermione sat upright in bed, straining to listen, however she heard nothing else. She remembered Harry hearing voices in the walls back in her second year, but that was because he knew Parseltongue. She didn't know Parseltongue, and the voice wasn't coming from the walls, it was coming from her mind. Suddenly she was blinded by tears and overwhelmed with deep, gut-wrenching hopelessness. Whatever she was experiencing, and whatever she'd heard, had to be coming from Draco. Hermione slipped under the covers once more, beginning to cry silently over something terrible that she knew nothing about.

"Draco, I can assist you if you'd just tell me what you're trying to do," said Snape, his voice filled with concern. Whether that concern was genuine or not, Draco didn't know.

"I can't tell you, if I tell you he'll punish my parents," Draco answered, as he paced back and forth in exhaustion. He held a tissue up to his nose occasionally and was managing to keep his sneezing under control. Every time he used the Bogies counter-curse it seemed to work for a while, yet slowly but surely the sickness would return. It had to be because the mudblood hadn't fixed hers, since he still had her wand. If they truly were feeling each others emotions, or were somehow linked, then he was continuously experiencing her pain. He didn't realise that whatever the hell the spell he'd used could make them feel each others physical pain. And it was happening at the worst possible time.

"He doesn't want to punish them, he just wants the mission to succeed. I can help," Snape continued.

"Of course you want to help, you're always sucking up to him. What, you think you'll come in at the last second and steal all the glory, is that it?" said Draco angrily, glaring at the man who was supposed to be his mentor.

"I've never cared for glory, Draco, don't insult me by implying it," Snape snapped, though he remained calm as he watched the stressed, tired teen continue pacing. Draco looked like a zombie. His skin was pale and clammy, his hair dishevelled and unkempt, his eyes bloodshot with ugly black bags of exhaustion. The boy ran a hand through his hair, his expression panicked.

"I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone. Even if I told you and you helped, he'll still kill my parents. He said I had to do it myself... I had to redeem the Malfoy name, he said it."

"The Dark Lord says what he needs to say to inspire fear and motivation," Snape drawled, implying that his words shouldn't be taken literally.

"How can you say that? You were there over the holidays, you saw what he did to the others," said Draco in disbelief. His trust in Snape, like everyone else, was fading with each passing day.

"He punished the others for failing their missions," said Snape firmly.

"And my mission is to kill Dumbledore. Me, he specifically said me alone. Not you, no one else but me. If I don't do it, he'll kill my parents. I know it. He said he would. It's not worth the risk," said Draco, his voice shaking and thick with panic.

"Draco, Draco, sit down. You look ill, just sit down," said Snape in an attempt to calm him down, pointing to the seat in front of his desk.

"I'm not fucking sitting down and I shouldn't even fucking be here, you called me here to offer to help again. He didn't want you to help me, otherwise he would have asked you to. Every time you call me here to offer your help, you're wasting what little time I have left," Draco snarled as he glared at the Potions Master.

"You sit here in your comfy office working for Dumbledore, all calm, as if my parents and my life aren't on the line. You'd happily kill Dumbledore and let my parents die if it got you a higher position among the Death Eaters," said Draco accusingly. At this, Snape stood up in a fit of rage.

"I would sooner die to protect you, Draco, your parents as well. I'm in this office on the Dark Lord's orders. I spy on Dumbledore on the Dark Lord's orders. I've sacrificed everything, I've done things you couldn't even imagine, I've lived this life for decades," Snape hissed in anger.

"And you'll never tell me any of your secrets, will you?" asked Draco, knowing the answer.

"They're between me and the Dark Lord, you knowing anymore than you need to would only put you in danger."

"And if I let you help me, he'll kill my parents. Forget it, I have to do it alone, I have no other choice," said Draco, appearing to have made up his mind. With one last glance at Snape, who looked crestfallen, Draco left the office.

Dinner had finished and darkness had fallen outside the castle, and Draco ignored the chilly air of the dungeons as he made his way all the way up to the seventh floor to the Room of Requirement. He felt foolish carrying Hermione's wand around with him and he knew that he'd have to return it, mainly because it'd risk exposing what he was doing, but also because he wanted to be rid of the damn curse he'd put on her. The idea of trying to blackmail her or offer a trade of her wand for Harry's cloak had crossed his mind, but the fact that Dumbledore gave the cloak to Harry made it impossible to obtain. If she was even telling the truth... even if she was lying though, she could still tell Dumbledore he took the cloak.

He cursed himself for allowing her to get away. He cursed himself for using Anima Nexu, the Half-Blood Prince spell on her, which had somehow connected them. Otherwise none of this would be happening, she wouldn't have become so determined to pursue him to the Room and figure out how to reverse it. At this point, he wanted to reverse it just as badly as she did, but fixing the Cabinet was more important. But if she discovered the Cabinet, which she eventually might due to how they were linked and because she was admittedly too smart for her own good, his plan would fail and his parents would die. Innocent or not, she had to be stopped, or convinced to stop following him.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please feel free to review and add to your alerts/favourites! :)

Check out my other stories!

Draco and Hermione - /s/5661111/1/Draco-and-Hermione

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The Time-Turner Division - /s/12337018/1/The-Time-Turner-Division