A/N: OK, I realize some people are capable of writing the whole thing in 8 chappies, but I was raised reading long, powerful books, so that's how I write. Or, at least, I try. On with the story!
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it..
Smoke billowed from the castle. From the chimneys really. It was late at night, too late.
"But for a while we leave this dark castle nestled against the brittle, twinkling sky. Our eyes wander; wander for miles, how many I haven't the faintest idea. Until our sore, sore eyes finally got some rest, if one could call this view a rest.
Below, not too far, lay a decrepit place. It had once been a flourishing forest, full of squirrels and birdsong. Now all that lay were charred, twisted remains, a bittersweet beauty about them.
No one had ever bothered but if they ever flew above it, perfectly centered, and looked straight down, the charred twisted half-trunks made an intricate pentagram. The highest stump was about ten feet tall. 'A good size' you think. Well, that tallest tree trunk? It used to be a Redwood, 200 feet tall. Still think ten is that great?
If you look closely, you'll see the pentagram isn't perfect. The circle in which the star sits isn't perfect; it doesn't close all the way. You blink and you swear it was just your imagination for the circle closes fully now. This will never be explained. Remember it."
"There are no occupants of this forest. Not even moss. This is fact. Well, here's another fact: a being was slither-walking across the forest floor, never pausing, walking perfectly in the lines of the star, over and over again. And when I say perfectly I mean perfectly, it walked straight through the trees. It was not a ghost. Are you confused?
I'm smirking. I hope you are. Truly, being confused is your only power in this place. It forces you to re-evaluate the mundane, re-affirm the known, and re-establish the taken.
My, I sense your mind running in circles. Well take a lesson for no charge: When in doubt, walk in the perfect outline of a star; it will never fail, bore, or miss the previous."
"But back to the being. I will give you one and only one clue to its identity: it has red hair. But then, I hope you never get to see it. For, the only time you see the gorgeous sheen of true red hair, know that you will die in a matter of milliseconds.
Ah, don't widen your eyes at me. What are you, drowned? Let's give you another fact: I am dying. Yes, ha, I see it perfectly. You barely know me, yet you are so human, so ningen, your eyes fill with sympathy. You wish to know the cause no doubt?
Ha ha, no, not enough time. Come closer, let my knowledge live on in you and know that that is good enough for me. No arguing, I'm the dying one, not you. Let's see now. What shall I say first? What shall I leave until the end?
I suppose the creature is as good a place as any.
Their names, have fun saying this one:
'Mael'D Arci Vigenareg'. Heh, it's French, originally. But it has been given other names.
Fair Scotland called it the 'SigNiuum'.
The hardy Germans called it the 'Aeldishnimh', and enticing Egypt called it 'Ha'Kra'eeng'hyRugh'C'hes'hePth'.
For the entire Gods' sake, don't ask me how to pronounce that last one, as I have no idea whatsoever. I suppose, for simplicity's sake, and to uphold ourtendency to shorten absolutely everything, we shall call it the Sig."
"Now the Sig wasn't really ever born, not in the traditional sense. You're familiar with the Big Bang theory? Many cosmic particles collided, releasing all this matter and energy, and created a planet?
Well, similar scenario here. To save you much scientific tediousness, simply put, many chemicals, dark, inhumanechemicals collided together. They did not like each other. You could practically say they were opposing enemies in the war of the era. Darkness formed, an as both sides fought harder, unintentionally and unrealizingly released unbelievable amounts of evil.
Horror, torture, terror, pain, all the Horribles. They somehow became a creature, one that makes Voldermort look like a child whose greatest crime was stealing a bar of candy. In the end, the two original chemicals burst, at the exactsame moment as the creature was being finished, and in their final moment gave it the bright red hair that at least would help others spot this thing, as a final attempt to help.
Pathetic of them.
Ah well. I have no need to describe to you what this thing did through out its… um…existence. I'm sure you can imagine. Indeed,I shall use my last precious energy to tell you what is happening now. This creature seeks out Voldermort."
"Your mind knots with questions. As a servant? As a master? As a partner? As a foe? Well…I'm not sure how to answer that. Truthfully, I never claimed to be some sort of an expert on the Sig. I've no doubt you're at least a tad surprised.
You probably expected this Sig thing to have some sort of a maniac drive to kill the legendary Potter. Well, for once, no. Actually, the being never really had thoughts per se, it simply sensed energy, fighting the strongest it could sense, killing theweakest it could sense, until one day it would be all alone. What a horrible future mm?
I would pity the thing, if it weren't just that: a thing. Not someone, something. A machine, more or less."
"I have no idea what it wanted with Voldermort. In fact, now that you go over what I have told you, it's very little, and mainly it's history and power. Sad, I know. But I do know one more thing.
OUCH!
I'm sorry…it just…it hurts… No, I need no help. Well::coughs::, as I was saying I know one more thing. I know this Sig's one and only weakness."
::Hacking coughs are heard::.
"You see…It's in the b..."
And then just a contented sigh.
"IT'S IN THE WHAT??!"
Hermione awoke, tangled in her bed sheets. 'What is it in?!!'
"What's what in 'Mione?" mumbled Lavender half-asleep.
The mortified Hermione realized she had screamed that aloud. She snorted, amused.
'Parvati's snores have kept everyone except Lavender from hearing me and Lav's the closest to me!' Still smiling, she whispered "Nothing, Lavender. Go back to sleep!"
"Mmmph, okay…chocolate carrots…."
Stifling a giggle, Hermione decided low lights and hot chocolate sounded perfect right now. The floor around her was littered with sleeping bags, and sleeping girls. She smiled as she clambered out of her room; it had been a good idea, inviting them over to spend the night.
"Crap!" she whispered as she went down the stairs. "I forgot to tell the ferret! Shit, we probably kept him up all night with our whispering and giggling. Heh…"
"That you most certainly did, Granger. And quit calling me ferret." The tousled blonde drawled as he walked past her into the kitchen. 'Bloody hell... even if they hadn't kept me up, thanks to that letter I didn't get a wink of sleep.' He squinted at the bright light coming through the window.
Meanwhile, Hermione wasn't sure if she should, A) stare at his shirt-less, half-asleep self, B) giggle at the sleepiness in his face, with a bit of remorse, or C) be angry that he had sneaked up on her like that. She went with B.
"Sorry Malfoy." 'I wonder if it bothers him that I don't call him by his first name...'
"Yeah, sure. Hey, what the bloody hells were you screaming about?"
Hermione froze. "What?"
"I dunno, something like 'Pin in the quat.' Latin?"
Hermione flushed. "Must've been something incoherent from a dream."
Grey eyes pierced hers. Her eyes watered instantly, but she realized it wasn't from the look. It was the aftermath of the horrible images the…voice…had shown her in her
dream.
The hot tears coursed silently down, the rest of her face frozen.
Draco had been preparing hot water for the hot chocolate, but stopped the instant her eyes watered. A strange look entered his eyes. 'Could it be.. caring? Nah, probably just disgusted and freaked out.'
"You okay Granger?" he asked softly.
"Perfectly fine." She whispered quietly as the tears continued their defiant journey.
"Um, yeah, usually, when people turn into human faucets, they're not perfectly fine." He looked uncomfortable.
She snorted through the tears. It wasn't that funny, but it was enough to make her start to really laugh/cry.
"Whoa. Ok, c'mere." He gathered her into his arms. Somehow, when he held her, she could forget the confusion with Lupin, her confusing sadness when Draco went to give Pansy a good time, even, for a single holy instant, the dream.
She sniffed, and pulled away. She thought she saw something strange in his eyes, but the next instant she knew it had to be a trick of the light, all she saw was confusion and sympathy.
"Wanna explain?"
"Not really…"
"Fair enough. Sit."
Before Hermione could blink, she was seated at a table, and Draco was whirling around in the kitchen. And before you could really get over anything, there was a basket of blueberry muffins in front of her and a tall cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.
"Um…?"
"Eat", he said. "Draco's famous blueberry muffins"
"But…you made them with your wand…"
"I most certainly did not!" he said, putting his arms on his hips and pretending to be highly offended.
Attempting for "peace", Hermione grabbed a muffin, practically burning her hand, and tried a bite. Her eyes must've gotten the size of saucer dishes.
He smirked. "You like?"
She just nodded.
Suddenly, she realized that when he had been holding her, she had been pressed against his bare chest. Not really needing a constant replay of that this early in the morning, she said "Um, M-Draco?"
"Yea?" 'Hey... she said my name... I wonder... does she think of me as a friend?'
"Uh, maybe you should go put on a shirt…"
He flushed a little. "Yea, I guess so. Be right back."
Truthfully, she hated the thought of seeing those abs being hidden away, but it was the only for sure way she could think of to get rid of him for a bit so that she could spit out this disgusting muffin. She chuckled. "The thought's nice and all, but bleh."
As she chucked the rest of the muffin in the bin, something caught her eye.
After checking Draco was nowhere to be seen, she pulled it out, stuffed it in her bathrobe pocket, and hurried to the one place she could look at it in peace.
A/N: I hope you liked this one. I know it's been a while since I posted, but creativity got short. Now it's a river though, and I plan to write more in a notebook while I'm gone, and type it up when I get back. Ja ne!