Sonnets and Unrealities

Hermione woke up with a start, having had the same bad dream for almost a week in a row. It always ended with her being covered in water, some tank, as she was trapped forever, screaming someone's name… It was probably her nerves, she had assumed. Exams were starting in a few days; it was the overwhelming studying habits she had improved on. She looked at the grandfather clock near the door. It was barely six in the morning. She sighed, getting up quietly while her roommates stirred. There was weak light outside the thick glass windows and guided by that, she headed for the common bathroom as the lamps on the ceiling had long extinguished.

Candles on the chandelier above her flickered on as she took a quick hot shower. Wrapping her bathrobe around her, she dried herself and put on her school uniform along with a thick scarf. Balancing on the edge of her bed, she put her knee high black socks on, mindful of the cold floor. There was a tapping sound on the window. She saw a little school owl, one owned by Hogwarts since it had a little crest hanging over its feathery neck. The owl seemed a bit sleepy, had a letter attached to one leg. Reading the letter quickly, Hermione frowned, as it was written in runes. Sighing, she translated the runes on another piece of paper, knowing it was in Draco's elegant cursive handwriting. Then she nearly laughed aloud, realizing what he had written.

I terribly miss your company but I won't admit it in plain English.

Shaking her head while grinning madly, she stuffed the piece of paper inside her coat pocket and slowly made her way out of Gryffindor tower.

In another part of the castle, on the eighth floor of a turret; stood Draco. His hands were in his pockets and a black scarf hung loosely on his neck. The early morning was still, no wind blew and the lake showed signs of slowly and completely freezing over. He was beside the window again, taking furtive glances outside the glass and on the door that was in front of him, goading him for being too weak to find anything inside. He had found nothing from the book he stole two nights before from the library. He had read the book over and over again, tapping more than what-? A thousand times or more? The runes wouldn't make any sense. It gave him headaches and made him nauseated.

Draco hadn't slept well in a period of two weeks already, scribbling a short note to Hermione and imagining her laugh made him feel better , if not, less sleepy. He took a breath and went inside the room again, seeing the mess once more made him cringe. Every time he tried to arrange things to make the task easier, they ended up worse than before. The room had been charmed to stay messy or something like that. The more he tried to set things in order, the messier it became each time he came back. He held the heavy book against his abdomen for further support as he scanned the pages once more. He found the page with the inked drawing of a small chest; he assumed it would be no bigger than the width of both of his palms set together.

He imagined the box in his mind, imagining the exact shape and color of it, imagined that he was holding it now. After minutes of silence he put the book down on a broken chair near him. He surveyed the dusty room, the windows were boarded up with wood and his wand was still the only source of light.

"Lumos Maxima."

The room was engulfed in light once more and Draco had one finger curled on his lower lip, thinking what he should do next. He flicked against objects and they flew all over the place. He had read about the runes being used for burial chambers specifically to hide certain artifacts from thieves. The worldly treasures, they left behind for the common eye to see but the sources of power they kept well from the eyes that had magic. It was probably why the room was always in such disarray, to hide a certain something. He walked further into the room; the debris was like a sea, engulfing his figure. He was probably in the middle of the circular room now.

Draco paused and took a breath of the air, less musty this time, but still filtered with fine dust. He knew he had to move and he had to move fast. The clock was ticking too fast. He had less than a month to prepare for everything and he had barely begun to discover the secrets that lay within the room. He wasn't sure what he should look for. The book showed him many illustrations, some too faded to decipher. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, except the haystack was messier and bewitched. He wondered what time it was, hoping he wouldn't be late for his first class of the day, a Transfigurations class by McGonagall. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, and then he'd just have to come back before or after supper time.

He came in late, ushering McGonagall into a momentary silence. Then her brows rose.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, so glad you could come and join us," she said crossly, tapping one forefinger on the board filled with writings. "Five points off of Slytherin should do the trick," the current Headmistress and still Transfigurations professor declared.

He quickly made his way to his desk and saw Hermione two rows ahead on the opposite side seated with Neville Longbottom. Bright morning light filtered through the soaring windows that covered one whole area of the Transfiguration class room. He could see he was more than a bit late. Half of the board was already filled with chalk writings explaining how to transfigure a canary into a cat, minus the yellow shade. He paused as he sat, seeing a canary inside a small cage. He suddenly felt sick; it reminded him of the canary he had sent to its early death when he was trying to repair the Vanishing Cabinet.

"You must remember that the cat can take on any breed, try to picture one breed in your mind, lest you want your cat to look all jumbled up," the professor droned on. "Now take out the canary gently, hold it comfortably inside your hand- don't strangle it, Ms. Parksinson!- that's right. Gentle does it. Flick your wand and-"

"Draco," Blaise nudged him, seeing McGonagall's glare on their row.

Draco blinked and forced the bile down. He saw the canary chirping happily inside the cage, he quickly held it gently before it could fly. McGonagall's brow relaxed and she raised her wand once more.

"Alright. From the top. One, two, three, Avis Felis."

McGonagall's lips broke into a smile, seeing Hermione's canary transform into a fine looking black British longhair breed. It was chubby with intelligent looking eyes, meowing at McGonagall. It sat, behaved on Hermione's table. Some of the Gryffindors broke into a cheer and some Slytherins scowled.

Ron's jaw dropped and he shook his head, determined to try again. Harry followed suit. Harry was successful at the third try, turning his into a Russian blue breed, but his cat kept chirping at McGonagall. Ron was green with envy, as his canary grew tiny cat ears on its feathery head.

"Nearly there, Mr. Potter although the vocals may need to be chopped off a bit."

Harry smiled and tried to coach Ron who was savagely brandishing his wand on the poor canary. Ron was successful on his eleventh attempt, but his scrawny cat had a yellow tint to its fur and chirped louder than Harry's cat.

McGonagall visited every student's desk, supervising their spells. Lavender Brown shrieked, her canary sprung into a cat in midair and it prowled about quickly under the professor's table.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Miss Brown! It's a cat, not a griffin!" she shot out a spell to immobilize the cat, and Lavender scurried under the table to grab her stiff yet alive and bald feline. She glared at Ron as she passed by his table, and Lavender's canary turned cat hissed at Ron.

By the seventh try or so, most of the students had by then transfigured their birds into cats, with a few anomalies. For instance, Neville's canary began to purr constantly, much to McGonagall's annoyance. And Millicent Bulstrode turned her cat yellow with a larger bird's beak instead of the usual feline mouth.

McGonagall strode over to Draco and saw he had not attempted to change his canary. "Well Mr. Malfoy, no exceptions."

He looked into her eyes and nodded. "Yes, professor."

With a flick of his wand and the chanting of the spell, the canary immediately turned into a sleek and dark colored Siamese cat with prowling eyes. It purred at McGonagall and she nodded in appreciation.

"Good, Mr. Malfoy."

Blaise's eyes widened as did Pansy's. Theodore Nott smiled a small smile as he observed a row ahead of Draco. McGonagall made her way up to her desk to reserve the words written on the board. The words magically switched places, revealing Felis Avis, this time.

"To transfigure your cat- oh do grab your cat Mr. Longbottom!- you simply have to say the reversed charm. Simple as that. And one, two, three. Felis Avis."

At least majority of the class transformed their cats back into canaries successfully this time. Some flew out of open windows while others hopped about on the students' desks. Something fell on Pansy's hair, making her shriek.

"Did poop just fall on your head?" Parvati Patil giggled.

The classroom erupted into laughter, leaving a fuming Pansy Parkinson to clean her hair with the help of her wand till the end of class.

Theodore Nott nudged against Draco's arm as he passed by while the hallway was filled with students from all years, exiting classrooms and chattering loudly.

Draco glared at him for a moment. "What?"

"Prefect meeting during supper- seven-thirty," he said shortly and then he left.

A meeting during dinner time? Draco scoffed. That was the only time he had left for the day, from dinner onwards, he had to face another almost non-existent or highly invisible artifact! He scowled as he headed for the Slytherin Common Room. He had a thirty minute break before his next class, the last class of the morning. An hour long stay at the Divination room was a bit of hell on earth for him. He didn't enjoy the subject at all.

The Common Room was empty, but Draco chose to have a nap in his quarters. Thankfully, it was empty as well. He flopped on bed, his arms under his head. Staring at the dark ceiling, he began to fall asleep.

He was running away from something, or someone…he could feel his heart being ripped out of his chest, his lungs were falling behind him. He saw her standing in the centre of the lake, she was shivering and crying and he saw blood drip on the pure and frozen surface of the lake. It came from her stomach!

He cried out her name and she shook her head. The surface broke, sending her down to the dark depths of the lake. He ran for her this time and the ice around him began to crack. He fell into the biting water and struggled to open his eyes, fighting off the cold. He saw her far from him, floating, dead. He screamed and no one could hear him…

He gasped; bolting upright, touching the bed sheets to make sure it wasn't a dream. Burying his face in his palms, he tried to shake the vivid dream out of his mind. He almost didn't sleep because of it. He had nearly the same dream of the frozen lake, Hermione and someone chasing him. He always lost Hermione in the end. It bothered him and every time he dreamed of it, a fear grew bigger and bigger.

Sleeping was a bad idea, he thought glumly as he heaved himself off of bed. In the common room, he saw a little owl. Thinking it was from Hermione, he quickly untied the letter off of the owl's leg. The owl flew out of the room right after.

He stopped. It wasn't from Hermione. It was from a handwriting he didn't recognize. It was written on a thicker than usual parchment with tight and frenzied words scrawled on it. The words seemed to echo that of his Aunt's character.

Draco,

Did you find it? Send word to your mother if you do. I shall be at the manor a week from now. I trust you're having difficulty, added to the mystery that even I do not know of. I have faith in you. Do not fail.

She didn't sign it, of course. He wondered where his Aunt was as of the moment, wondered if she was with his father, in hiding once more. But he knew his aunt was reckless and dangerous, so she wouldn't truly hide. She couldn't live off a moment without hurting anyone, let alone kill. The letter was a reminder of his duty. He had not spoken to Hermione in more than two weeks now; the last time was when he fended off Nott in the library as Nott taunted Hermione.

Was this a steadying sign that things were not meant to be? That it was best that he keep away from Hermione? He threw the letter into a small fire that kindled at the fireplace in the corner of the Common Room. It burned after a minute and Draco left the room to walk up to Divination.

The class had only begun to settle and Draco quickly sat beside an empty seat opposite Theodore Nott. He was short of breath from the eight flights of staircases as were most of them. On the small round table in front of each pair were teacups and a pot of hot tea. Draco grimaced. He hated Trelawney's brew as much as he hated the stifling and coma inducing classroom. The smell of some strange incense rose high in the air, rendering him a bit dizzy.

Nott held a monogrammed handkerchief to his nose in a futile attempt to block off the strong perfume odor.

"Alright…" Trelawney began in a hazy voice. "Teacups again today; my dears. I feel that we shall see something important today. Someone's death, perhaps?"

Ron groaned and so did Harry. Hermione was smart enough to have opted for another class in replacement to Divination. She was taking up Muggle Studies and The Study of Ancient Runes in defiance to the 'guessing game' as she called Divination class. There were around thirty six of them in class that day and the room seemed to be oblivious to the frost outside.

"Drink up, drink up!" Trelawney prodded them.

Ron chugged his down quickly to avoid the bad taste of the brew. He made a face. Harry's lips pinched. The wide eyed professor made her way to them.

"Ah…" she began, urging Ron to take the cup Harry had drunk from. Arranging her large spectacles, she peered in closer and gasped dramatically. "A dark omen! The grim once more!"

Harry felt hot tempered all of a sudden, remembering his godfather. He stared at her and tried to count from one to ten. He was halfway to three when he spoke up.

"I happen to like grims," he said bitterly.

"Oh my dear boy, I understand that you have been a victim to death's advances many times-"

"My godfather could turn into one," he told her, feeling the heat rise to his scalp.

"Ah, but that is a dog-"

"And a fine one too!" he shot out an angry look at Draco who was broken from his stupor.

Draco was stony faced. The room became quieter, and the crystal chandelier chimed once from some open window. Trelawney shrugged the comment off and went to other tables as the classroom began to regain a few murmurs here and there and Trelawney continued reading their tea leaves and mentioning every aliment known to the Wizarding world. But Harry's mood had changed into a sour one. Ron saw it and patted his back twice.

"Don't fret on it, mate."

"Did you see Malfoy?" Harry muttered. "He didn't give a damn. His mad aunt kills off the only family I-"

"You still have Mum and the whole lot of us," Ron said cheerfully.

Harry was quiet for a moment and then he smiled a bit, remembering his favorite female redhead, Ginny. His forehead crease eased up and he took a breath, determined to pull through the rest of Divination.

The classroom emptied fast after an hour and Lavender and Parvati quickly said their goodbyes, for a long potions paper was due after lunch. Draco was the last one to leave as he did not want to converse with anyone at all, not even those from Slytherin and Trelawney adjusted her eyeglasses once more and looked his way.

"Ah, mister…Malfoy?"

Draco nodded and stood up without saying a word, turning his back on her. Then he heard a gasp. He spun around once more, shocked to see Trelawney go rigid and her eyes suddenly going vacant. Sibyll Trelawney sat on a wooden chair, her hands gripping on to the handles as if for dear life. Her mouth contorted and her pupils rose so high into her sockets that only the whites showed.

"Professor!" he gasped, not knowing what to do.

"The Floor is wrought by Frost, immeasurable depth, take heed... The Torch known to man by its pale, bright glow; it always burns where princes sit within… The ocean seems interminable to Man…and the waves of the water terrify all…She, the guiding star and the spherical light that comes from the darkness... the covenants are broken…the princes are to be where they are…" her voice sounded like a strangled man's.

Draco was immobilized on the floor as Trelawney suddenly shook off of her trance, yawning and shaking her head. She sat upright and blinked rapidly around five times.

"Yes, boy?" she asked, staring at the pale Slytherin before him.

"Professor- you-"

"I dozed off? But class is over, unless you have queries?" she said with her fingers fluttering.

Was it possible the woman had no idea that she had just made a prophecy? Trelawney stood from her chair and placed her shawls to her desired position as Draco still stood in front of her, dumfounded by what she had said. Her bangles jingled happily like she hadn't predicted a ghastly episode of the future.

She noticed this and turned to face him once more. "Is there something you need to ask, young man?"

Draco shook his head, unable to believe he had heard a prophecy from someone he had always thought of as fake. He stepped back and walked out quickly, going down the staircase with such rapid speed, his thoughts in disarray as he tried to understand what she had just said. He couldn't very well memorize the prophecy, so he quickly took out a notebook and wrote the most important things he could remember. He made an odd, geeky appearance as he wrote sitting on a staircase on the third floor of the North Tower.

He stared at what he had remembered, what he had written. He had recalled most of it, her hollow and strained, spectral voice still etched in his mind, echoing words that cause his heart to pummel like a hammer to his ears. He stood up and walked down again, the notebook clutched tightly in one hand. No sooner had he placed his notebook inside his leather bag when a voice greeted him at the end of the second floor staircase.

"Where have you been?" Pansy asked him curiously.

"I had to ask Trelawney a few questions," he said as matter-of-fact. He took a breath to control his annoyance. Was she just going to keep following him around?

Pansy's eyebrows rose. "What the hell do you get out of that nutcase?"

"Exactly."

A/N: Thank you for reading and thank you for your kind reviews! ^^