A/N: 7th Chapter is up! Hope you guy's like it.
Wherein Harry and Ron are early for class, Hermione asks a lot of questions, Draco's acting weird and...oh dear, it's about time I've gotten into the Dramione part of this story. I had fun writing this chapter. :) CONTAINS LOTS OF FLUFF. I think. "Fluff" is fun, happy writing, right? I can't remember the definition...
This is probably the longest chapter I have so far. o.O
Anyway, read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song "Haunted" is by Taylor Swift. All I own is the (ADDED) plot.
Haunted
...***...
Chapter 7
"It's getting dark,
And it's all too quiet,
And now I can't trust anything now,
And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake.
Oh I'm holding my breath,
Won't lose you again,
Something's made your eyes go cold..."
-Haunted,Taylor Swift
"Harry, you're thinking too hard."
"I'm serious! Don't you find it at least the slightest bit suspicious that his first name is 'Fox'? And then – before – when Professor Morrigan showed us that parchment? Didn't you see? Her Patronus was a fox!"
"Harry, stop. You're just going to get into a ton of trouble. Again!" said Hermione, concern present in her voice.
"Yeah, you're head's going to explode," added Ron. "But...you have to admit, it does seem rather odd."
Hermione nodded slowly in reply, whilst Harry gave an exasperated sigh before doing his own nod. After the silent answers, they continued on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. It was just the two and Ron at the moment. Ginny and Foster felt they had things going on, and left them.
Just as they turned a corner, they saw Luna walking on her own down the corridor. They were just about to go up and say hi when an unusual sight came to greet them.
Malfoy – who'd been lounging in the shadows – walked straight up to Luna. The Ravenclaw stopped in her tracks and turned. They talked for a minute before Luna took something out of one of her robe pockets.
Ravenclaw earrings! thought Hermione. Her eyes were open wide and her mouth looked ready to catch a fly. So Luna wasn't completely loony when she was explaining Draco Malfoy wanting Ravenclaw earrings from her. But why?
He rushed off after nodding to Luna and that was when the Golden Trio decided to make their entrance.
"What were you talking to Malfoy for?" asked Harry, puzzled. Luna looked at him. She – once again – had her trademark dreamy look on her face.
"Draco? He's been wanting those for a while now. Says they're important."
"And you believed him?" questioned Ron, absolutely furious. Luna frowned.
"Of course. Was there a reason not to?"
"WAS THERE A REASON NOT TO? BLOODY Hell, HE'S DRACO FREAKING MALFOY! IS THAT NOT ENOUGH REASON?"
Luna blinked. Harry was stunned. Hermione grabbed Ron and pulled him with her toward the Great Hall. What he did was rude and...rather harsh. She was sure Harry could clear up his outburst with Luna. Hermione and Ron didn't stop until they reached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...
Hermione could be found in the library later that day. She had set her bag on the table, opened. Her Arithmancy book was out, propped up on the bag, but she wasn't focused solely on her studies (for once). Harry's speculation on Fox Black and his memories made her want to come back to the library and do some extra research on the matter. She had brought her own copy of Hogwarts, A History in hopes that it'll give some more information.
When they got to the Great Hall, her and Ron, she'd practically screamed at him for yelling at Luna, earning them both shocked looks from the rest of the students and teachers in the Hall. Hermione didn't mind the staring, she was so infuriated with the red-head in front of her, she didn't even notice Foster coming over to save him from anymore yelling. That had annoyed Hermione for the rest of lunch.
Now, currently being in the library, she had about half an hour until her next lesson. Perfect amount of time to get some homework done, as well as work on the case. Damn, she sounded like a detective.
Some strange noise made Hermione look up, and her gaze shifted toward the Restricted Section of the library. She didn't see anyone. She made a move to go check what it was, but then sat back down. Strangely enough, she wasn't in the mood. She was still a little peeved about her not becoming Head Girl, and that completely changed her mood toward being a Prefect.
She shook her head and looked back down at her book. As interesting at it was, she couldn't get something out of her head.
Fox Black...could it mean something if you change the name? As in, Black Fox? But what would that mean? She was convinced that was what seemed so strange about the name. It was quite peculiar that his name was so...backwards. In English, anyway. It could have been passed off as a badly translated French thing. Renard Noir. She knew a little French, but not enough to know if her translation or theory was right or not.
But this thought made Hermione shake her head in frustration. What would that have anything to do with anything? But if that were the case...the strange name. Then it hit her.
What if it were fake? It could definitely be true. Dumbledore did say there may be things that could be so believable, it was inevitable that they were fake.
But how was it fake? He was with the Malfoy family – Narcissa Malfoy, née Black. It could be some sort of...distant relative.
Where were his parents? All this thinking (there must have been a lot of thinking, because thinking didn't usually get to Hermione like it did this time,) was giving her an immense headache. This didn't normally happen, but it was making her tired. Thinking of more than one subject at a time – it has happened before (around the time she decided she was never going to use a Time-Turner for extra classes again!).
She groaned, then folded her arms on the table and let her head rest on it. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she held them open. She couldn't fall asleep with, what...fifteen minutes left until her next class?
Eventually though, she finally gave in and her eyes drifted off to sleep.
...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...
"Granger...Granger!" Someone was talking to her. And...poking her? Who was that...? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was sleeping, rather...uncomfortably...why was it uncomfortable...?
Her head shot up, startling whoever was waking her. Hermione wondered for a minute what she was doing in the library (that didn't usually happen. She must've been really asleep). Her vision was still cloudy. She squinted her eyes and looked at...
"Malfoy?"
"Well spotted Granger. You know, I was planning on being the only one late for our Defence Against the Dark Arts class, seeing as the teacher is always late himself. But seeing that you're here as well, I doubt that'll work out," he spoke casually. He was sitting across from her, leaning back, hands behind his head. And then there was that trademark smirk on his lips. Only it seemed...unfazed, playful even. Amused. Like he didn't care that he...she was...they were-
"Late? We're going to be late?"
"We already are, FYI."
Hermione stood up abruptly and raced to the entrance of the library to Defence Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't a usual thing for her to vent out all her current anger on someone else, silently anyway. She decided to make this an exception.
Oh she could kill Malfoy! He was so infuriating sometimes! No, not sometimes...all the time! She didn't understand why she felt so sorry for him these days! Parkinson, Nott and Goyle being on his case all the time. Zabini having to comfort him. Whether he actually did comfort him, she didn't know. But she did know he had just made her late for class! He was probably just sitting there, watching her...sleep (an odd thought. Scary even.)...and waited until it was time for class to wake her up. He hadn't changed in the slightest.
But her thoughts did when she stepped into the classroom.
There were only a few kids. They all seemed to be chatting nonchalantly to each other. As per usual, Professor Morrigan was still in his study.
She threw her bag on her usual seat and swiftly walked over to Harry, who was talking with Ron and Ginny, and poked him hard in the shoulder. He gave a sharp "Ow!" and began rubbing his shoulder, looking over at her.
"What did I miss?"
He furrowed his brows, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Hermione? Class hasn't started yet."
"Well of course, I mean, Morrigan is always late-"
"No, I mean, class isn't even supposed to start yet. You're early by like...five minutes." She blinked. Early? By five minutes...? Alright, who played with her Time-Turner while she wasn't looking?
Nobody. She remembered giving it back to Professor McGonagall at the end of her Third Year. So that meant...had Malfoy...the Draco Malfoy...actually had the decency to help her? It was an odd way to do so, telling her that she was late and all, even though she wasn't...but helpful nonetheless.
Then she was vaguely aware of her bag feeling a little heavier than normal. Panicky, she rushed back to her desk and looked. She let out a sigh of relief. Her Arithmancy book was placed in, thoughtfully, she might add. All of her loose parchment paper was put neatly to the side, pressed against the books in such a fashion that they couldn't be crushed or crumpled.
She looked and checked for everything else. If her Arithmancy book was placed in her bag without her doing so, Malfoy or someone else must've been going through her things – ah ha!
She spotted it. A notebook. Red cover, black bindings and-
Leather.
She blinked. She blinked and blinked, but it was still there. Could it have been...?
Hermione reached in and took out the notebook. Yes, it was definitely leather. She felt the back of it with her hand, gingerly caressing it in her grasp. It seemed old, no, used. Was this actually the notebook they saw in the Pensieve?
She turned it over and looked at the cover. There was a picture of a Phoenix engraved on the front. It was beautifully drawn, and looked like it was handmade. She was hoping that someone human made it, because if this was another elf thing...then again, she wouldn't mind if it were goblin-made. Artifacts like that – such as the Sword of Gryffindor – were rare.
But the cover on the front of the book seen in the Pensieve didn't have a picture on it. It was blurred away. So Fox wasn't completely ignorant. It seemed he didn't want anyone to notice.
Then there was that chance that this wasn't the notebook. Not that she minded, but it would have helped a little bit with Dumbledore's mission.
As she brushed her hand over the front cover and across the phoenix, it glowed yellow, almost gold. Then across the top, it turned into text. Yellow text, much like phoenix.
We meet at last, Guardian of the Otter.
What did that mean? "Guardian of the Otter?" Why did...?
There was a violent SLAM! of a door as Professor Morrigan, ever so gracefully, made his way down the steps, a great big grin plastered on. A blind person would have guessed Morrigan was either frustrated, angered, irritated, or all three by the sound that emitted from the door. On the other hand, a deaf person would have thought he was either simply content, happy or really quite excited or joyful for the upcoming lesson. It looked so out of order, the class couldn't contain their laughter. Hermione had to admit, it did look rather comical.
She didn't notice someone sit beside her until the very last minute, and by then it was too late.
Malfoy leaned back in his seat, taking out his quill and beginning to twirl it in his fingers, not acknowledging her in anyway. It was as if he didn't know he had sat beside her. But there was something about him that made Hermione realize that he did know, just didn't want to gain any unwanted attention. Quite uncharacteristic if you asked her. He absolutely adored attention. Then again, she wasn't going to pester him about it. If he wanted it, he'd get it himself. He did, not ten minutes ago, tell her to get a move on and not spoil her reputation of not being late for a single class yet.
Why'd he sit beside her though?
"Blaise is in the Hospital Wing because of a flying accident. Decided to spice things up a bit," he said, as if reading her thoughts. He didn't look at her, just continued to play with his quill. She took a good look at the quill in his hand. It seemed oddly...yellow.
She snapped back to reality and looked at Malfoy, who still decided to stare at the quill. "Why though? Aren't you...disgusted? Repulsed?"
"If I was, I wouldn't have been poking you in the library, would I?" he replied, finally turning his eyes toward her and stopping the movement of the quill. He seemed a little annoyed by what she said. "No, I would've just let you sleep for as long as you needed. Or waited until you were really late to wake you. But being the oh so heartless, albeit thoughtful gentleman that I am, I decided to disturb that sorry attempt at some sort of beauty sleep – that you most definitely need, might I add – to make sure you and your silly little reputation weren't broken into a million pieces for skipping your very first class. No, there is absolutely no need to thank me, just doing my job – being the sexiest and most attractive ferret in Hogwarts." His voice was dripping wet with sarcasm.
"Are you done ranting? I think you might have to wake me up again," replied Hermione, yawning.
Malfoy poked her. Repeatedly. "Wake up, Granger, wake up," he smirked, earning him a glare from Hermione.
"You're so childish."
He chuckled for a second, but his smirk faltered when he looked down at the notebook in Hermione's hands. Realizing what he was looking at she absentmindedly held onto the notebook tighter. "What's that?" he asked, innocently.
"I don't see how that's any of your business."
"It is most definitely my business, seeing that it's in your hand and I'm sitting here beside you...and it's glowing."
"I still don't see how this is any of your business."
Malfoy rolled his eyes before reaching over to touch it. Hermione was about to protest when his finger rested on the left wing of the phoenix. The wing turned green, but the rest stayed yellow.
The "Guardian of the Otter" text vanished, but there wasn't any text that came up. Hermione looked up into Malfoy's eyes, and saw something that she never thought she would.
His eyes, were not their usual colour of grey, if not silver – they were green.
Malfoy hastily took his finger off the notebook. He turned and when he blinked, they were back to its original colour. Grey. That's it? He just wanted to touch it? Did he want me to see his eyes change? Or...no, that was impossible. His eyes didn't change. I'm probably seeing things. She shook her head before looking back at him. Malfoy had picked up his quill again and was twirling it in his fingers.
Did her eyes change colour? She didn't know. Of all the things you could see, the only thing you can't see were the colour of your eyes unless you were in front of a mirror. One of the first things you ever learn. So Luna wasn't completely delusional either when she mentioned his eyes' change of attire.
Morrigan – to which the class had just realized to be pacing in front of his desk the entire time – took an abrupt stop, picking up his wand and began to twirl it in his hand, much in the same fashion Malfoy was at that moment. He seemed deep in thought. His smile was replaced with a worried expression. It seemed awfully unnerving. Someone (that being Seamus,) coughed and the Professor's head shot up. He looked at the class as if he had finally registered their presence.
He looked around curiously. "I see we have a couple Muggleborns in the class," he murmured, almost to himself. The class heard it, but the way he said it...it was as if he didn't want – no, that wasn't the word, more like need – the rest of the class to hear it. He blinked. "Do any of you...heh...well...get offended easily?" Well, wasn't that an odd question?
There began talking amongst the class. Morrigan hardly noticed. Then there was a comment from the back of the room. It seemed as if they were making sure the Muggleborns could hear it, but not Morrigan.
"Why does he need to ask?" called Parkinson from the back. "It's simple. All you have to do is say 'Mudblood' and count how many pools you have at the end of class-"
"Parkinson," spoke Morrigan, putting his attention to the back. He looked at Parkinson, his eyes seeming to go darker, yet lighter at the same time. Hermione just realized – his eyes weren't exactly grey at all, but there was some blue as well.
His voice was spoken calmly, but there was a red aura around him. He was angry, but kept it in.
Parkinson herself looked at him wide-eyed. The boggart would definitely become Professor Phoebus Morrigan if it weren't already.
Morrigan continued. "Do not speak of terms you do not already know the meaning of." Her jaw dropped. Of course she knew the meaning of the word 'Mudblood'! Why wouldn't she? She's been using that term for years now!
Of course she didn't say that to a teacher, but as if he had read her mind, (or face, it was giving something away too) Morrigan shook his head. "You don't know..." he mumbled, once again, almost to himself.
He turned to the rest of the class. "What is a Mudblood?" That was one question Hermione did not raise her hand for. She was expecting Malfoy to poke her again and tell her to answer the question – just to annoy her – but it never came. He continued to play with his quill, but his eyes shot up to look at the Professor when the question was asked.
"Goyle! Do you know?" he called abruptly, pointing in the big goon's direction. He seemed caught off-guard by the question and nearly fell off his seat. Hermione saw Malfoy smirk in his ex-friend's direction.
Goyle mumbled something.
"What was that?" Morrigan's voice was rising. He could very nearly become everyone's boggart.
He mumbled again.
"I'm sorry, I seem to have grown deaf. Speak. Louder. Goyle."
"A Muggleborn," said Goyle, looking down and finding his quill extremely interesting. Morrigan paused for a moment, then turned his attention to the rest of the class.
"Absolutely not!" he said. Hermione couldn't tell if he was content, cheerful, frustrated or peeved. The way he looked at everyone...the way he spoke...it contradicted each other. But what he said confused Hermione. She'd never heard of someone saying that a Muggleborn and a Mudblood were different. Different ways of saying it, yes, she'd heard that, but they had different meanings?
"So no one knows what a Mudblood is?" He looked around the classroom. No one raised their hands. "Hmm...well, seeing as you don't have an idea, how about that's the assignment for today? Everyone, take out a piece of parchment and a quill."
Hermione hastily went into her bag and took out a couple pieces of parchment and a quill and put them on the desk, holding the quill in her hand. She noticed Malfoy already had two pieces of parchment out, and she was a little surprised to see him now holding a different quill, rather than the yellow one, which was now discarded off to the side.
"I want you to write down what you think is a Mudblood. With the knowledge that it is absolutely not simply a Muggleborn witch or wizard. So no, I am not referring to anyone in this classroom. You have half an hour to figure it out. Go."
Hermione looked down at the paper, but her mind was blank. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to write. It wasn't something she could figure out from a book (they didn't make anymore false stories about Mudbloods anymore, thank Merlin) so that option was definitely out. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Malfoy was writing something. Probably an elaborate way of saying Mudblood is a way to describe a Muggleborn...in an extremely informal and rude way. She was subconsciously gritting her teeth. She'd never been...like this. Unable to think of something to write on paper. A guessing game? This was truly a strange class this year.
Just then, she noticed text on one of the pieces of parchment she took out. It was the Note-Passer.
The answer is any person (Muggle, Muggleborn, Halfblood, Pureblood, etc.) who purposely steals blood from any witch or wizard to gain their powers. Their blood is known to literally become a darker red each time they steal blood from a wizard until it becomes black, part of the reason they get the name ''Mudblood''.
She frowned. This person had a thing for helping her. And...was that actually the definition of a "Mudblood"? The subject still bit her. Not as hard as before, but it still did. At least the definition made it sure she wasn't actually a "Mudblood".
Then again, was this person just...playing with her. How did she know that this wasn't some silly prank?
But he or she was never wrong before.
It blanked, and then there was more text.
Trust me, Hermione. Have I ever been wrong?
It was as if they read her mind.
She rolled her eyes (over-confident arse, whoever this was) and wrote her reply.
You only answered one question. I don't think that's too reassuring.
One question correct. So no, I've never been wrong.
I am so going to kill this person.
She hastily grabbed at the parchment and began to write what the person told her.
After writing it, she realized she had about ten minutes left, so she leaned her head on her hand, propping it up and staring into space. She had a lot on her mind, and she doubted she'd be able to focus on reading a book at the time. And then there was Malfoy beside her, and she wasn't going to look through that notebook while he was there.
She felt something nudge her elbow, and when she looked over, Malfoy had his arms folded, head rested on top – the same way she did in the library. So he was done too.
As she looked around, everyone else was either chewing on their quill, head rested in their arms or staring at the page blankly. Hermione sneaked a glance over at Harry, Ginny, Ron and Foster, realizing that Foster was the only one who had put her quill down. She sat up attentively, ready for the next part of their lesson.
And then there was Ron and Harry, both chewing on their quills. Ginny turned around and looked at Hermione, surprise etched on her face for a second (probably just realized Malfoy was sitting beside her) but her gaze flickered over to Hermione, confusion on her face. Hermione read her lips. "What do you think?"
Hermione couldn't quite answer that. As much as she wanted to, she'd seen enough of what Professor Morrigan could do if someone interrupted his thinking sessions. So she simply shrugged, doing her best to look as clueless as she did. Ginny seemed to have bought it, faking an exasperated sigh, then turning back to her work.
After ten minutes, Professor Morrigan stood up at the front. "Hmm...why don't we have some fun?" The grin was back on his face. "Write your name on your piece of parchment – ball, cube, animal, whatever you want – and throw it at the front of the class. Do. Not. Hit. Anyone. The only person you can hit is me. Let's say...another ten minutes. Go."
There were masks of confusion on people's faces for a few seconds. Many of the Slytherins were able to recover quicker than the others, and began making their parchment extremely unpleasant to have in your hand, let alone catch.
Hermione shaped hers into a little otter and enchanted it to walk. She didn't feel the need to throw it. On the other hand...
What was the harm in giving it wings? It could be...an angel otter. Hermione looked at it for a second. The otter tilted its head to the side, curious, but sat down obediently, waiting for Hermione to do something. Finally, with a wave of her wand, she enlarged the otter and with her wand, curved a few bits on the side to make wings. When she was done, the otter began to test them out, flapping them until it eventually did begin to fly. Satisfied, she smiled at the little animal as it twirled in the air.
At some point, it flew to her left and landed on Malfoy's head and lay down on its stomach in his hair. He was still asleep. Hermione giggled a little too loudly, causing Malfoy's eyes to flutter open. He blinked a couple times, but his head didn't move.
"Granger?"
"Yes?"
"What...the Hell...is on my head?" he asked cautiously, albeit curious.
"A flying paper otter."
"A flying paper otter...? Huh? What are you- Gah!" The otter had detached itself from Malfoy's hair and flew right in front of his face, making Malfoy fall right out of his seat. Hermione couldn't hold her laugh. Many others began to look over at the strange sight, and there began to be laughs and sniggers. Malfoy seemed to ignore all of them, though. His eyes stayed glued on the otter. His legs were propped up on the seat, but his elbows were holding his upper body on the floor.
The otter flew down and almost looked apologetic. Malfoy frowned.
"Granger. Let me make something clear to you," he spoke extremely coherent, making sure she heard him. "There is a reason otters are not supposed to have wings."
"So something like that doesn't happen again?" she asked. She wasn't quite able to hold back her smile – she was one of the students who laughed.
Malfoy raised a finger, still staring at the otter who was continuing its attempts at trying to say sorry.
"Precisely." Malfoy pushed himself up with his arms and managed to just get into his seat without getting off of it completely. The otter stared at him with solemn eyes. "S'alright! Stop looking at me like that, I don't do the 'sad otter' thing," he grumbled, looking down at his own parchment. The otter's expression changed to contented and it flew over onto Hermione's shoulder.
"We're making something to throw at Professor Morrigan at the front."
"Oh really?" replied Malfoy, with slight sarcasm. "So, let me guess, you have that annoying trait above you that makes you feel something for every living creature there is in this world, you decided to give that thing wings and get out of the throwing things at the teacher bit, am I right?" Hermione frowned, but Malfoy ignored her. He picked up his parchment and scrunched it into a ball. Hermione and her otter watched him curiously as he took his wand, enlarged it like she had (but not as much) and began taking strands of the parchment, making them stick out until they formed...
"Wings," breathed Hermione. Malfoy smirked and threw the ball up in the air – he'd successfully created a Parchment Snitch. (Not Golden Snitch, as Malfoy would probably argue, it wasn't gold, but parchment.) The blond leaned back with his hands behind his head, satisfied.
It flew around Malfoy for a moment before stopping. Hermione's otter flew up and looked at it, prodding the ball with its "paw".
"Alright class," spoke Professor Morrigan. "Let your...creations come up to the front of the class." Everyone watched as their things went to the front, some of them flying, like Hermione and Draco's, while others were thrown. The ones that were thrown stopped in midair right in front of Professor Morrigan, as if a wall were created in front of him. He began petting Hermione's otter, which came straight up to him and landed neatly on his shoulder. "I will read these over. Until then, class dismissed." Hermione began packing her things.
"I don't hate you, you know," said a quiet voice. She turned to see Malfoy, packing his own things, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't look at her. "Not anymore. Just thought I'd point that out." He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder and walked off.
A/N: Huh. Do you think Draco's OOC? I think so. What? It was bound to happen sometime. Most Dramione stories will have an Out Of Character Draco Malfoy. And an Out Of Character Hermione Granger. I tried. I really did.
I know what you're thinking. "Holy shit, did I miss something in the books? *gasp* Does the word "Mudblood" really have a different meaning?" No, you did not miss a thing. This idea popped into my head when I was creating my OCs. I made that up. But since this is Fiction...of a Fiction...you can take the "truth" and bend it a bit. That's all I did. Please don't kill me!
The 8th Chapter is called "From the Inside" (by Linkin Park) and the song quote is :
"Trying not to break,
But I'm so tired of this deceit.
Every time I try to make myself,
Get back up on my feet,
All I ever think about is this,
All the tiring time between,
And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me..."