Cry Me Tears of Fire
By Pensive Puddles
Ron rolled over in his bed, pulling his pillow tighter across his face to muffle an irritated groan. He hated the sun, especially in the morning. He reached for the curtains that surrounded his bed and yanked them closed. Sighing in relief, he settled back into bed. Sleep…good…dark…good…sleep…
Baring his teeth like a vampire exposed to the sun, he hissed when the curtains ripped apart again, letting the light stream down onto his face. Ron groaned louder as the sounds of other students preparing for school filled his ears. Some people really shouldn't sing in the shower.
Fighting a losing battle, Ron finally rolled out of bed, reaching towards the ground and picking up yesterday's uniform and slowly getting back into the morning routine. Yawning, Ron stared at himself in the mirror. He shook his head, having to look twice in the mirror. Reaching up to touch his face, Ron watched how the boy mimicked his own moves. Slowly, it dawned on him that this was his reflection. This odd, new boy was him.
He let his fingers run along the smooth skin of his jaw. His face was shaped differently, and it felt very foreign. Ron had to admit that, even though he had been pleased when he had received good reactions for his new appearance, deep down, he really didn't like it. It was difficult to adjust to such a new face. It obviously didn't take everyone else long, and in a way, it hurt Ron's feelings. Didn't anyone miss his old face, or had he been so ugly that people really preferred this new one?
His looked at the changes, admiring them. Well, maybe he did like his new face. It was more handsome, more dashing. After he pondered the case more, he slowly admitted that didn't really like how he had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. He liked himself before hand. True, there were some things that he had longed to change, but not this extreme. And those little quirks, those things he hated about himself, those were the things that made him Ron Weasley. Not everyone could look like him. Everything that was old and familiar was outrageously different, and he felt he didn't even know himself anymore. It still shocked him to watch his new reflection move and scrunch to express himself, hell, even the desired expressions didn't have the same character he was used to. Then again, he had only had the surgery a couple of days ago. He'd get used to it eventually, the doctors had told him.
Still…something kept nagging at him.
Ron watched his reflection and shrugged. Hermione liked it when she saw it. She didn't show any signs of dislike. And as long as she liked him, that's all that mattered.
Quickly brushing his bedridden hair, he left his room to go to the Great Hall to eat breakfast. Even if his face had altered, his appetite hadn't. His stomach growled in agreement. He greeted his peers, wondering why many of the girls that had never talked to him in the past seemed to go out of their way to wave to him or shoot him a smile; as he walked towards the door, his mind set on a plate of bacon, eggs, toast and any other morsel of food he could devour. After having to eat those abominable meals that St. Mungo's had tried to pass off as food, Hogwarts food had never seemed so appetizing.
"Ron! Wait up!" a soft voice called. He paused and turned to see a girl rush towards him, hair flying behind her shoulders. She stopped in front of him, brushing stray locks of hair away from her face. She flashed him a large smile. "Good morning."
"Morning, Lavender," he said, turning towards the exit. Food…hot, tasty food…
"Can I walk with you? To the Great Hall, I mean?" she asked, blushing slightly. Ron gave her a puzzled look – why was she acting so strange? – but politely nodded, slowing down so she could keep up with him. She gave him another smile, and quickly looked away. Ron tried to hide his perplexity, but was finding it rather difficult. He tried to pay attention to her as she attempted to make conversation, but his stomach was twisting in hunger. He focused on her voice, nodding every now and then, but he wasn't quite sure what they were talking about. He vaguely noticed that her hand kept brushing against his every now and then, but he passed it off that she was tired from lack of food, causing imbalance. After all, the last time they had eaten was last night, and to Ron, that was a very long time ago. His feet naturally quickened their pace as his stomach growled again.
She giggled and then started to talk about how her stomach growled whenever she was hungry. Doesn't everybody's? Ron thought while she continued to ramble over Merlin knew what.
Finally reaching the Great Hall, Ron walked Lavender to one of the seats at the table and then left to sit next to Hermione. His girlfriend glanced at him twice before smiling. He returned the smile, although his heart truly wasn't in it. Again, he thought back to his face. But she did like it; she said so yesterday didn't she?
"Ron!" she giggled as he wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. "Not at the table!"
"Come on, Hermione," he whined, pulling her closer and kissing her lightly on the lips. "It's been forever since I've been able to hold you."
"It hasn't even been a week," she remarked, unable to keep the smile off her face as he started to play with her hair. "How are you going to survive the Christmas break without me?"
"Are you sure you won't come to the Burrow for Christmas? Harry's coming. And even Charlie and Bill are coming back. It'll be fun," he said, trying to coax her into accepting his proposal.
"Ron, I told you that I couldn't go this winter. I need to finish up my research project. It's incredibly crucial for my N.E.W.T.s. And you should be thinking about studying. I mean, they are just around the corner," she said, biting into her toast.
"Yeah, in five months." He opened his mouth, and she grinned as she inserted her toast into his mouth. He took a bite, and chewing quickly, pleaded, "Please come. You can work on your report at the Burrow. I want you there for Christmas. It'll be our last Hogwarts Christmas, you know?"
She sighed. "I know, and I wish I could. But you know me…"
"Fine. But if you do get bored sitting here during Christmas – which I know you will – Dad can always come and get you in a second," he said and let go of her as Harry sat down. "Morning, mate!"
"Morning, Ron," Harry mumbled, blindly reaching for a mug and the coffee pot. Creating a strong concoction of coffee, sugar, and milk, Harry took a large mouthful and swallowed it slowly. Sighing, he opened his eyes and smiled at his friends, eyes glowing from the sudden caffeine rush. "Did you finally persuade Hermione to come back to the Burrow with us?"
She giggled as Ron groaned, indicating that the situation was hopeless. Harry chuckled. "Don't worry," he said, ruffling his black hair, "she'll reconsider. By the way, Ron, don't you have detention tonight?"
Ron groaned again and both Hermione and Harry laughed as their friend attempted to smother himself into Hermione's shoulder, tears of frustration leaking from his eyes. "Two hours…with Filch…baby, if you love me, you'll kill me now," he begged, giving Hermione a very teary-eyed puppy dog look. Hermione only giggled and kissed the tip of his nose.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:
Plants…they may be useful for breathing and can occasionally be pretty to look at, but when they tried to bite your finger off, they weren't as wonderful as many deemed them to be. How Professor Sprout could enjoy growing these foul beasts day in and day out was hard to believe. After all, people could only handle so much of a plant trying to nibble you when you weren't looking… where was the joy in that?
Draco quickly jerked his hand back as one of the plants tried to nip at his fingers. He glared at it. "Little bugger," he muttered. "It's not like this is a highlight of my life either. I mean, I'm getting the short end of the stick here. After all, you're just being watered with some dumb potion to help you grow – for reasons beyond my understanding, and I've got to give it to you. And you try and bite my finger off for it! Merlin, I'm surprised that giant hasn't kept you as a pet yet; I've heard he likes man-eating things like you."
He paused. "Draco, you're talking to a plant."
He sighed, looking back at the clock that hung above the door. The numbers were a blur to him. He was so tired. His mind quickly thought of the homework he needed to finish. He could write that Charms essay during Professor Binns class. After all, he rarely noticed when Goyle snored (which is saying something considering Goyle could make the floor vibrate), so why would he notice Draco doing Charms homework?
He bet she was probably the only one who stayed awake for his class…Bloody Merlin! He was doing it again! He growled, smacking himself in the forehead, trying to hit the thoughts to the back of his mind if not out. Never had he been so frustrated. Why couldn't he get her out of his head? Every little thing he did or thought always ended up back to her. He didn't know why. If he was sitting in one of his classes, bored out his mind, he'd wonder what Potter was doing and he'd scheme how he could torture him. And thoughts of Potter always stumbled accidentally into Granger.
Well, for all excuses, she was an interesting creature. After all, she was a mudblood, yet amazingly, she was one of the smartest witches since Rowena Ravenclaw. She was unique; Draco had to admit. The way she never really liked to be noticed, it always mystified him. Yes, Hermione Granger was a complex puzzle, and Draco had always been fascinated by puzzles, almost as much as the Dark Arts. But this puzzle was a walking, talking, breathing puzzle that had many pieces. Sometimes, he'd feel as if he had finally completed her, only to find a couple pieces that never fit perfectly and he'd suddenly realize that if he put them somewhere else, he'd come up with a whole different picture. It had been hard enough trying to make a picture in the first place. She was one entertaining piece of work.
Draco hissed as little teeth pierced through his gloves and pricked his skin. Shifting back away from the blood sucking plant, Draco ripped off his glove and sucked his finger while glaring at the monster that seemed to look at him smugly. Wait a second, plants had no faces…how could they look at him smugly?
Damn metaphors…
Draco glared at the hissing plant, baring its small little teeth at him. Oh, he was going to burn it, yes he was…
"You took too big of a bite, little guy. Prepare to burn," he said evilly, pulling out his lighter. He watched sadistically as the little plant tried to squirm away from the boy with the flaming palm. Draco vaguely noticed that he was getting quicker at summoning and shaping his fire element. "You asked for it! No one bites a Malfoy and lives to tell the tale."
He heard the door open and he quickly swallowed the small fireball in his hand. He opened his palm, waiting to see charred skin but was immensely surprised to see his skin smooth and flawless. He nodded in satisfaction. Yes, he powers must be growing somehow. Blaise was wrong in accusing him that he was incapable of controlling himself. Well, ok, that table incident and the Weasel were different…he had been provoked!
A short, irritated sigh reached his ears and he looked up to see who the intruder was who had stopped the burning of a plant. "Granger?" he questioned.
She didn't reply but instead went quickly over to the cupboard and started to rummage around for something. Deciding that the blood sucking plant could wait, he got off the ground, brushed himself off and went over to lean against the cupboard she was searching through. All the while, he noticed how her skirt somehow didn't hike up like most girls, revealing more skin than allowed. What a strange girl…
And so stubborn! he thought as he noticed how she purposefully kept her gaze searching amongst the shelves for whatever she was looking for. "Come now, Granger, don't be so civil," he remarked sarcastically.
"It's not like I want to start a conversation with you anyway. How's detention going? Bet you've never done a hard days work in your life, have you, you spoiled brat?" she remarked, giving him a sickening sweet smile. He raised an eyebrow, trying not to show his aggravation, although he had to admit it was quite hard. She gave a little smirk and went back to looking for Merlin-knew-what.
"I saw that the Weasel tried to improve his looks. I'm sure, you being the honest Gryffindor girl that you are, told him that he still looks like a train wreck. After all, no amount of magic could improve his atrocious features. What do you see in him?" he remarked and smirked as he saw her movements become stiff and jerky. He was definitely twisting a nerve. "Oh well, birds of a feather, I suppose. I mean, it would be absolutely humiliating if he tried to go for someone beautiful like Pansy, better stick to someone in his own level, or for more self esteem, below."
Next thing he knew, Hermione's wand was pressing painfully under his chin. Her wild eyes were swimming with hate and anger. Her nostrils flared slightly she was breathing so hard. "One more word and I swear…" she left the threat hanging.
He leaned forward. "Do it. I dare you."
She continued to breathe angrily, glaring at him with all the hate she could muster. He tried to suppress the urge to swallow nervously. Witch or not, angry females were never a good thing. He took a step closer, trying to intimidate her.
"Do it. No one's here. You can easily blame it on one of the plants or something. I'm sure your lying tongue can think up something clever. After all, you've done it plenty of times for your idiotic friends." He filled the last comment with bitterness above all emotions. He took another step and leaned further down until his face was so close that she could feel his hot breath tickle her skin. His eyes narrowed in curiosity as he whispered, "What's stopping you?"
He watched the battle in her eyes. He could see the desire to hex him, but also the reasonable, logical side of her conscience trying to soothe her hatred. And he could see, amongst the small battle, a hint of something he couldn't place his finger on. Fear? Was she scared of him? Or something else…maybe he was just imagining it. "What's stopping you," he paused, and now so close that he whispered into her ear, "Mudblood?"
He slowly breathed her in, taking in the scent and remembering what it had felt like to hold her around her throat those few days ago. He wished he could do it again, and he didn't know why he wished for it either. Her fear…he fed off her fear, that was the only explanation he could think of. And there was something else. Something inside of him told him that he wanted to feel her skin under his palms. He wanted to tug and pull her hair, tangle his fingers amongst her wild locks. He wanted to scan every shape, every dent, every mark on her skin and memorize it. He wanted to hold her close and feel how she fit in his arms. Even now he had this compelling, deep desire to rip her wand out of her hands and hold her and touch her and kiss her.
Merlin, what was wrong with him? He pulled away, startled, as the desire became nearly unbearable to control. He didn't notice that all the hate that swirled in her eyes before was gone, and yet she continued to breathe unevenly and heavily. He didn't dare glance at her, ashamed at how he nearly had lost control of himself. Why did she have this effect on him?
They both jumped as a bell went off out of nowhere. Both Draco and Hermione pulled out their wands, on alert for anything. They had been told vaguely about these bells throughout the year. It meant that something dangerous, or someone was on the grounds of Hogwarts. A flashing red light caught their attention and the two went toward it to look down into an open door with steps leading down into darkness. Hermione quickly went down and pulled Draco inside. Detecting no other human on the garden house floor, the garden house closed the hidden door, casting the two teens into darkness.
All sound was cut off and neither of them dared attempt to use their wands to produce any light. If they pretended that they weren't there, then maybe whatever it was on the grounds wouldn't find them. Draco already knew what had invaded Hogwarts' peaceful territory. It was a Dark no-brainer.
Death Eaters.
"They're coming for me, oh god, they're here for me! It's because of that book. But I lost the book. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod," she repeated under her breath. Draco searched the dark for her and he saw her huddled figure, pressed against the corner of the safe room, clawing at the corners with one hand and shielding her head with the other. He watched fascinated as she trembled horribly, and a wave of what felt like pity swept over him.
"Granger – "
"Sh!" she hushed. She looked up at him, their eyes accustomed to the dimness. He could see her brown eyes glassy and fearful. "They'll hear you. They want me. But I don't want to go. Who'd want to go anyway? Don't say my name. Don't say anything. They'll find me. They can detect me. Can't you hear them? I can hear them in the earth, their footsteps. Sh! They're coming. The Professors don't know that we're out here. They'll lock us out of the castle! Ohmigod, they're coming!"
During her deranged speech, Draco had crawled closer to her. Maybe he could stun her; it'd save both of them. What was she rambling about anyway? He had never seen Granger lose control like she was now. He could hear her uneven breaths, quick and deep.
Suddenly, she stopped. And she whispered something so quiet that he almost didn't hear it. But he did, and it froze his insides. "I know your secret."
"What?" he said after a stunned pause.
She uncovered herself from her personal sanctuary. "I know what power lies within you. And they want it as well. Power…that's all they care about. Disgusting really. It makes me feel like we're all pawns."
He was more alarmed and shocked that she had spoken the exact words he thought daily than he was surprised that she knew of his powers. "I don't believe you. I'm just an ordinary wizard, well, minus the fact that I'm a Pureblood…and you…"
He didn't have to finish; she knew what he would have said. She shook her head and gave a weak, sad chuckle. "You don't get it, do you? He doesn't care about blood any longer. After all, he's just a mix himself, but of course, he tends to forget that small fact when he murders hundreds of thousands just like him," she said in disgust as she brushed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him, detecting his pale eyes in the dark room. "He'll use anyone who can finish the job for him. He's too weak to complete it himself."
"I…" Draco stopped and stared at her. He scooted away from her and leaned against the wall. Folding his arms across his chest and giving her a confident stare, he stated, "I don't believe you."
"Wait and see, then. But don't say that I didn't tell you," she said, an eerie grin pulling at her lips. Draco suppressed the urge to shudder and instead looked at anything but her. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to other things. His father probably wasn't with the Death Eaters in this raid. Draco snorted mentally. He wouldn't be surprised if Lucius used him to avoid attacking Hogwarts. Lucius never did like the magical school. "It'll throw Draco's identity in jeopardy if they see me!" he'd probably say, referring to Draco's marking.
Like he cares anyway, Draco thought bitterly. Lucius was afraid of his own shadow now, especially since his replica became stronger than him. No more beatings, no more lectures, no more anything because Draco now had the power to turn the tables and make Lucius squeal on the floor, bleed unnecessarily, twist unnaturally in agony.
He titled his head back in hopes to take a small little nap. He knew that if the Death Eaters did find him, they wouldn't harm, unless they wanted to face Voldemorte's unforgiving and deadly wrath.
He wished Blaise or Pansy were with him. He needed to hear a joke, no matter how corny, come from Blaise's mouth. Or even just to feel Pansy's kiss him across his jaw and along his lips was a happy thought. Those two were the only ones who knew about Draco's family problems. In the sense that his family lacked the ability to love, that is. Pansy was familiar with the neglected feelings Draco felt towards his father. After all, her father was with Lucius during all the same meetings.
Blaise could possibly be considered the most normal out of the trio. Unlike many pureblood families who only had a couple children, Blaise came from a family of five children, two Labradors, a Persian cat and one nanny for the twin two year olds. Draco one commented that the Zabini twins would likely give the Weasley twins a run for their money when they got older. And let's not forget the important factor that the Zabini parents were actually home most of the time to give their children the affection that Draco and Pansy tended to lack in their family. Blaise never suffered from neglect, but he possessed a sense of character that was unlike any person Draco had come across. He understood Pansy and Draco more than either of the two knew themselves. It was slightly alarming when they pondered it, however, slightly comforting to know that someone took the time to care about their well being.
And somehow, the Zabini residence was considered a safe haven to Draco and Pansy. There were many secret rooms that the family had forgotten about (which was quite common with Pureblood family mansions), and Draco remembered one room specifically where the three would spend summer days together, and where Draco would spend summer nights with Pansy if they both decided to sleep over. Blaise had kept to his own business during the times when Pansy and Draco would pick up their little fling again every so often. After all, he tended to take care of his younger siblings most of the time anyway. Blaise was the model older brother, although he made sure that his tenderness towards his siblings was kept silent. It wouldn't do at all for knowledge of a soft Slytherin to trickle amongst unfriendly ears. Advantages were always something a Slytherin tried to avoid in his life of growing up in Hogwarts, and the method tended to stick even after schooling was over.
"Malfoy!" Granger hissed in his ear. Startled, Draco swatted at her in defense and knocked her down. She made a small hiss as her elbow collided painfully against the floor and he could feel her glare accusingly up at him. Ignoring the feeling of guilt and squashing the urge to help her up (What would her hand feel in his, he wondered?), Draco snapped moodily, "What?"
"You feel asleep, I take it," she observed, still rubbing her elbow.
"Thank you, Mudblood, for pointing out the obvious," he replied scornfully.
"Quiet! Someone's coming!" she whispered, quickly getting on her knees and drawing her wand in defense. Draco stiffened and pulled out his own wand as well. He kept to the side, focusing on the door above them, but his eyes tended to stray over to her. She made a rather gallant figure on bended knee, wand ready, eyes filled with the desire to save the world and die gloriously, hair static with energy. A small breeze played across his face and he wondered if the door was opening to cause the draft. He noticed the light of the door crack open and he tightened his grip on his wand, staying in the shadows. He small voice in his head told him to pull her to the side, avoiding danger. But his mind and his Slytherin wantonness prevented him from lifting a finger in her direction.
The door swung open and Hermione cried out a spell that Draco couldn't catch. A gust of wind shot off from inside room and blew whatever intruder away from the entry and sent it crashing into something, causing multiply shattering sounds. Sprinting up the steps, Hermione let out a small squeak of dismay and Draco watched as she disappeared from view.
"Stupid girl!" he muttered as he heard some sort of scrambling that involved crashing pots and other materials. Quickly hoping that it wasn't a Death Eater that Draco had to murder and frame in order to protect his loyalty and Granger, he went up the steps with his wand ready to kill.
"Oh Professor McGonagall, I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to attack you. I thought it was something that had invaded the grounds. Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry!" Hermione babbled, trying to help her professor up and untangle herself from a mixture of plants, vines, and other questionable plantlike things.
Rubbing her head, the old Professor got to her feet and sighing said, "It's quite all right, Miss Granger. It's with a good heart and head that you did what you have done, and I don't hold you culpable in the least, especially if it had been a Death Eater. Speaking of which, the Headmaster has ordered all the students to their dormitories where they will be kept safe. The intruders have left the grounds, but it's only for a precaution. All activities have been canceled and everyone is to go to bed early tonight. Headmaster Dumbledore will come to each House later and set down the rules and other things concerning tomorrow's departures for vacation. As Heads, it's your job to help the Professors to round the students up and send them back to their Common Rooms. Yes, that means that your detention has been cut short for today," the Professor said, casting a critical eye on Draco. "Once you finish that, you are ordered to your own Head Rooms until Headmaster Dumbledore says otherwise. Is everything clear?"
"Yes, Professor," the two Heads replied automatically. Nodding and hobbling a little slower than usual, Professor McGonagall lead the students out of the garden house and back into Hogwarts.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
Hermione walked quickly down the halls, checking all the known hidden safety doors in the castle. Most of the students had been sent to their rooms already, but she had found a couple terrified first years huddled in a broom closet. She had kindly directed them back to their common rooms and told them calmly that everything was going to be all right.
Of course, she didn't feel anything of the sort.
Her face blushed as she remembered her humiliating break down in the safety room of the green house. She was ashamed of how she had lost control, especially in front of Malfoy. And admitting that she knew of his powers! What was he going to do to her? She knew that he was capable of things that her mind refused to think of. After all, he did have the strength, not only magicwise but also provisionwise according to numbers and set-ups. He had the Dark Lord on his side. He could easily kill her and make it look like an accident.
She breathed shakily as her heart quivered in her chest when she recalled that one moment in the garden house, before the attack. She had gone down to get something for her Advanced Potions assignment. Snape was giving once a week, after school teachings on Potions to those who needed to boost their grades or improve their skills. Supposedly, and most likely, Dumbledore had asked him (more like ordered him) to help out the students since the war was brewing quicker and every bit of strength was needed.
She hadn't expected Malfoy to be serving detention in the Herbology room. It of course had to be her luck that he had to be tending the plants that night, hadn't it? Her heart had fallen deep to the bottom of her stomach when she opened the door and saw Draco leaning down amongst the plants, undershirt stained with small finger prints of dirt and button up shirt and cloak folded neatly on a table near by.
But that threat…a shiver ran up her spine as she thought about it. Did he have any idea how he affected her? She hoped not. Again, she had felt his power inside of him. She knew it was growing. She could feel it. She wanted it. And when he had whispered into her ear again, she knees had nearly buckled. She didn't know what had kept her from grabbing onto him for support. What would it feel like to have that power inside of her like it was inside of him? She wondered if she touched him, would that power flow even just a little bit into her? She wasn't disgusted by the idea either. In fact, it was very tempting.
Swallowing uncomfortably, she decided to check for lost students near the Room of Requirement on the third floor just for good measure. After all, that room was becoming more popular now that more people knew of its existence.
Don't think of Mafoy.
Think of Ron.
Thinking of kissing Ron.
Thinking of holding Ron.
Malfoy's lips against my ear… NO! Ron! Think Ron! THINK RON!"Oh Ron!" a high voice sighed dramatically. "I'm so scared! What if they're inside the castle at this very moment?"
Hermione paused and looked around the corner. Down the hall, oblivious to her presence, Ron and Lavender walked away from her. The pretty brunette was standing a little too close for Hermione's comfort and she watched with angry, narrowed eyes as Lavender continued to inch her way closer to Ron, nearly grabbing his hand with her free hand, while biting the nails of the other.
I hope she gets poisoned from her nail polish! she thought vengefully.
"Lavender, it's fine. Dumbledore said that they aren't in the castle. We'll be fine."
"Do you really believe what he says?" Lavender replied, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Yes, I do. Although I have to admit there are times when I've believed he's off his rocker," Ron remarked. Lavender gave a shrill, giggle, swatting playfully at him. Hermione dug her nails into the wall she was gripping.
"Oh, Ron! You're such a comedian, even in a serious time like this. I like that about guys like you," she said, getting closer and finally being bold enough to take his hand.
"Uh…Lavender?" Ron said, slightly alarmed.
"I'm sorry. I'm just so scared! I mean, I don't know if the others are safe, if they haven't been killed yet or something. And I don't know where Parvati is. I won't lie, Ron, sometimes I wonder why I was put in Gryffindor because I'm not really that brave. I'm nothing like you or Harry! I mean, look at me, I'm crying! I've let my House down," the girl whimpered and broke into hysterical sobs.
"Lavender, it's ok," Ron said, patting her awkwardly on her back. He never was good with hysterical girls. Lavender threw herself at him and embraced him. Ron was stiff for a moment and then returned the hug and comfortingly rubbed her back. "I know I feel like this all the time when Harry and I are stuck in pretty bad jams."
What about me? Hermione asked, her heart twisting painfully. Didn't it matter that she was always there to help them or get them out of those nasty jams?
"You know," Lavender said quietly, pulling back to look up at him. "You really know what to say at the right time."
Hermione watched appalled and shocked as Lavender stood on the tip of her toes and kissed Ron on the lips. It was a gentle kiss which she deepened. And Hermione watched in horror as Ron started to return the kiss after a small pause.
Pull away…
He'll pull away, Hermione. He will. He's your boyfriend and he's loyal…
Pull away, Ron……
…
…
He's not pulling away…
Hermione didn't wait to see if Ron did pull away eventually, whether for understanding his betrayal or for a breath of air. All Hermione heard was his and Lavender's moans as they kissed passionately. Tears blurring her vision, Hermione sprinted to her Common Room, her feet barely touching the ground as she sped through the castle. No one was in the halls, and if anyone did see her, they would have been too absorbed in their own safety to question why a tear-filled Hermione was running down the halls.
Ron…you've betrayed me.
And the thought that pounded over and over in Hermione's head seemed to disperse into the air and travel back to Ron, hitting him so hard that he literally shoved Lavender off of him. Caught off guard, Lavender stumbled and landed on her bottom, looking up at him puzzled.
"I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened," Ron said and quickly walked away, leaving a confused girl sitting in the third-floor hall by herself.
Ron ran a hand through his hair, angry at what he had done. He paused and leaned against the wall. What had he been thinking! He hadn't meant for that to happen at all. He and Harry had met in the Room of Requirement earlier just to talk and spend some quality time together. Harry had to leave. Ron wasn't quite sure why, but all he knew was that he had found himself alone in the Room of Requirement. When he was about to leave, he had bumped into Lavender. He didn't question why she was up there and it wasn't his business to ask. When the two were about to leave, the bell went off and Lavender started to panic. Ron immediately dragged the sobbing girl back to the Room of Requirement and they waited there until they though the coast was clear.
He had to admit that kissing Lavender was something he had once dreamed of experiencing. She was, after all, quite a beautiful girl. Girls like her never looked in Ron's direction once, and never twice. Eyes like those were always fixed on handsome people like Harry, and to his annoyance, Malfoy. So to come back to school and find attractive females like Lavender attracted to him, it was over whelming! Never had he had to deal with situations like that, and he was totally unprepared. And he had gone about it in the wrong way.
Anger filled him as he thought of Lavender. Damn it, that girl could put his relationship with Hermione in jeopardy! And he wasn't willing to throw such a good relationship that he had been longing to have for years away just because of one spur of the moment kiss.
Ron got off the wall, taking a few deep breaths before continuing to walk down the hall and back to the Gryffindor House. And as his feet walked steadily down the empty halls, his mind came up with a solution to all his problems:
Kill Lavender.
…
…
…
All right, so maybe that wasn't the best solution…
Ok, so it wasn't a solution at all! But the thought was appealing.
No one could know. No one was allowed to know of the incident on the third floor, and he'd deny anything that Lavender said. After all, it was a he-said/she-said case, and people knew of Lavender's infamous ability to absurdly exaggerate the truth. And besides, he had Harry on his side. And Hermione was still loyal to him, especially since she knew nothing of the incident.
"Just because you got your face changed, Weasley, doesn't mean I won't recognize that outrageously offensive hair of yours," drawled a familiar voice. Ron tried to remain calm as Malfoy continued to speak, "You're supposed to be in your Common Room. 10 points from Gryffindor."
Keep silent, that way you won't get any more unfair points deducted, he reasoned silently in his head.
"Get to your room before I dock more points from you," Malfoy warned in annoyed voice, shooing Weasley away. Ron marched onward, imagining wrapping his hands around Malfoy's neck and twisting it to an unnatural angle.
Yes, no one would know of the incident.
And Ron, despite being nagged at by the irritable Malfoy, walked with a bounce in his step. There was no need to worry about his and Hermione's relationship falling apart. He was confident in that now.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:
Draco watched with a peculiar expression on his face as he watched the transformed red-head nearly skip down the halls. "He was always a weird one," Draco mused silently before walking back to his room.
Yawning, he hoped that all the students were in their rooms. He didn't want to get blamed if one of them was killed on account that he didn't check every freaken' room of Hogwarts. Merlin's sake, he didn't think that Dumbledore himself knew how many rooms were in Hogwarts!
Nice, soft bed…and he could sleep in tomorrow—
He groaned. Pansy and Blaise were leaving tomorrow. He'd probably have to see them off, more for Pansy's sake than Blaise's. Sometimes Pansy could be the most charming girl Draco ever came across, but most of the time, she was just damn irritating. He wondered if she was going to expect a Christmas present from him. He sighed, knowing that she was. Oh well, maybe he could make Blaise get it for him. He didn't want to do the shopping himself.
Draco never was happier in seeing the portrait that guarded the Heads entrance. It was a different style portrait than the others that Draco had seen hanging around Hogwarts. The Heads picture bore no face or person. In fact, it was just a frame that appeared to hold a storm inside of it. Gray and dark black clouds swirled together and amongst each other in a vortex. It was calming to watch the tranquil display, like watching water fall: the same but always changing. And it appeared to be nothing else but that, or so it led itself to believe.
"Pan Valere," Draco said and the portrait appeared to ripple. A bleak, engraved face appeared in the storm. Its eyes were blank and its face was empty and void of all emotion.
"State second password," the face said in a soft monotone.
"Vorare amni," Draco said his own personal password. The first password that he had stated was the password to activate the portrait. The second, each Head had their own personal password.
"Welcome, Draco," the face said, its voice becoming more human like. It smiled, and somehow, the empty eyes gave the impression that it was looking at the young boy in fondness. "Something is wrong."
"What do you mean?" he asked slightly alarmed. The face smiled calmly, and simply said, "She needs your help."
The face disappeared and the gray storm seemed to slide downwards like water against a window. Draco had the impression that he would get wet if he stepped into it. Nonetheless, he walked through it and was slightly unnerved to find himself in the middle of the common room, dry. Something caught his eye and he ducked out of the way, a reflex he had improved since his second year of Quidditch.
Suddenly, he noticed how oddly windy it was in their common room. Draco cowered on the ground, hiding behind the couch as another book swirled in his direction, flying over him and smacking cruelly against the wall. He glanced upward and gasped in shock. Books, pieces of stray paper, pillows, some quills and what appeared to be a small lamp whirled in a tornado-like fashion in the air. And in the eye of the tornado whirled Granger, her arms holding herself, hair twirling wildly around her face. It appeared as if she was being consumed by the wind.
"Granger!" Malfoy yelled, but found his voice practically muted in the wind. He watched helplessly as the wind continued to pick up speed, and he held onto the couch for support, praying that it wouldn't lift up into the air as well. "Granger!" he yelled fruitlessly again.
He tried to aim his wand steadily at her in an attempt to stun her. But the wind was so strong that his wand flew out of his hand and was lost in the whirlwind. Frustrated, he tried to think of what to do. Something was wrong. He needed to get her down, now. The wind was only increasing its speed and Draco knew it would probably turn into a true tornado if he didn't stop her.
Crawling on all fours, Draco tried to get to the eye of the minor twister. He could stun her with his fire power; he risked the possibility of burning her, but he had to try. Finding the small center, he was able to quickly muster up his strength and firepower; he shot it up at her. He pulled the fire back quickly and watched it extinguish into the dying winds. Nonetheless, the fire did its trick. With but a lick of its fiery tongue, it stung Hermione painfully enough that it pulled her out of whatever trance she was in, however it didn't burn her delicate skin.
Her heard her give a shriek of startled pain and the wind stopped at an alarming rate. All objects that had been suspended into the air crashed around the room, flying in their own separate direction. Amongst the suspended objects was Granger who fell gracefully from the air and landed in Draco's open arms, and he stood there proudly for a second before falling to the floor. She landed in his lap, her head against his chest.
He tried to regain the breath that had been rudely knocked out of him and looked at the girl who laid limply in his arms. Holding her with one arm, he gently brushed stray locks of hair out of her face and peered down into her tormented visage. Her eyebrows were scrunched in pain or anger, maybe both. Her mouth was pulled into a frown that quivered, as if threatening to unleash a sob. She mumbled something, the words so smashed together that Draco was incapable of understanding what she had said.
Either way, he could tell something was distressing her and he rubbed her arm in a comforting manner. Taking her hands, he rubbed them together, a method he had heard worked to revive people in shock. She opened her eyes long moments afterwards, brown orbs glassy with pained tears.
"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered. Pitying her pathetic figure that was before him, he only continued to rub her hands against his and replied soothingly, "Nothing. Nothing bad will happen to you. Trust me."
"I trusted him… and looked what he did to me. You'll do the same as he. All men are alike," she whispered, staring at him for a moment longer before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell lifelessly in his arms. He caught her, startled at her sudden faint.
If Draco had a weakness, it was probably women like Granger who appeared so helpless and lost. Maybe because their brokenness reflected all too clearly what was inside of him, but either way, he had not the heart to leave her lying in the middle of the common room.
Picking her up, he carried her to her room and quickly put her on her bed. Accioing a blanket, he gently placed it over her. He held his breath, afraid she might wake and panic at finding him in her room as she rolled onto her side. Draco sighed in relief and was about to leave when something caught his eye.
Dark lines wrapped around the corner of her neck. Curious, Draco went to get a closer inspection. Could it be that Hermione Granger had a tattoo on her precious, innocent skin?
Well, that violated all the rules. Good girls like Granger don't have tattoos that cover their neck. If it was a tattoo, then what was it of? Draco felt as if a tattoo really characterized a person. He pulled her hair away and was intrigued at the wispy designs that rose above the collar of her shirt. Some of the lines were thick and somewhere thin, but Draco could tell it was defiantly some sort of descriptive picture. Not knowing if he'd ever get a chance like this again, Draco hurried back into the Common Room and quickly found his wand. Returning, he noticed that the dark lines were fading. Muttering a spell he had used frequently, Hermione's shirt laid in a neat, folded pile at the foot of her bed. He watched in amazement as the tattoo faded from her skin, as if the ink was sinking and disappearing.
But one glance was enough.
He jumped away from her, bumping into the wall loudly. He cursed mentally and hoped she didn't wake up. She only sighed and snuggled deeper into her blanket. Draco took another step closer to her.
What he just saw…no…it couldn't be…could it?
Wanting to be sure, Draco went back to look at the engraving and sure enough, he knew that what he had seen at first was what he had thought it to be. It faded completely from sight. He knew what it was, in perfect detail.
It was a beautiful lady, more magical and nymphlike than anything else. Completely nude, she stood vertically along Hermione's spinal column. Starting from no where, ribbons of wind wrapped around the nymph's body, revealing bits and pieces of the thigh and waist and arms, but covering the lower section of her body and her chest. The nymph's hair blew above her, thick curls twisted in wild directions. The windy ribbons passed around her neck and seemed to thread out amongst her hair like tributaries. Her two arms were held outwards as if dropping something and from her open palms was the wind design, flowing from her finger tips and twisting and turning majestically and designed to appear to be flowing to a certain area, which was in the middle of her back. Above the nymph's body which would be at the bottom of Hermione's neck were bold italicized letters, shaped beautifully to portray the loftiness and clearness of the air: WIND
Draco found himself later lying on the cough of the Head's Room, the fire burning lowly. The door slid open and Draco looked at the Headmaster. The old man hobbled over to Draco, eyebrows raised. "Where is Hermione?"
"She's not feeling well, sir. She decided to go to bed," Draco replied smoothly.
"Very well, then," Dumbledore nodded. "Then I assume you will pass this information to her when she awakes. I am getting really tired to repeating myself over and over and over again." He gave him a twinkling smile. "As I was saying, the trains shall leave tomorrow at noon. All those who are leaving tomorrow should be at the Hogsmeade train station by 11:30 or preferably before. Safety precautions have been made so that we will have people traveling to the train station in groups at designated times, which will be posted tomorrow at breakfast. If you are leaving tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest that you pack early so that you won't have to go through the trouble tomorrow."
"No need, sir. I will be staying her for Christmas," Draco replied. Dumbledore nodded again. "Ah, both Heads staying for Christmas? Interesting. Well in that case, I came here to tell you that as Head Boy, it is your duty and Miss Granger's duty as Head Girl to see the students off and make sure that they reach the train station safely. Hopefully, Miss Granger will be well by then?"
Draco nodded.
"Very well then. Good night, and do give my regards to Miss Granger," Dumbledore called as he left the Head Room.
Draco waited till the door closed before he flung himself back on the couch. So Granger was staying for Christmas as well? Was it because of studies or was it because of whatever drove her to whirl around in the middle of the common room? Draco stayed up early into the morning, thinking of the girl who laid peacefully in her bed, his mind replying over and over again of Hermione hovering in the air and the marking on her back. It mystified him incredibly.
How did Hermione Granger become a Controller of the Wind Element?
A/N: Alrigh then. I actually got this beat approved so hopefully there aren't as many spelling erros or typos. Damn, I hate those... Again, I'm sorry for those who get really ticked at me for talking to freaken long to review. I really can't tell you how sorry I am, but hey, school work, and I don't want to be held back this year... That's the way the cookie crumble, I guess!
Now, if yall could be so sweet and beautiful, please just drop a short note (or long! Long is always good!), I'd be very pleased... you know what's really sad? I can't seem to use any big words because I don't know how to spell them correctly! Than again, my time, it's incredibly late...I feel like Ron in that first paragraph: "Sleep…good…dark…good…sleep…"
Peachs!