Title: Black and Deep Desires

By: Dr. Kim-chan

Me: Let's see…I'm not sure how long it'll be until I write what will be collectively called "the Fear Chapters". Should be sometime very soon, hopefully. But we'll have to take care of some things first. First things first, today we'll cover the trio's meeting with Hagrid. Ooh, I wanna write the Fear Chapters so badly! I have big plans in mind. Big ones!

Draco: Then we better hurry with this one before you burst with excitement.

Plushie: (smirks) "That reminds me…"

Ron: Don't even start.

Plushie: (frowns and walks off, muttering obscenities that'd make rappers blush)

Lucius: (sitting in the corner as always) Rolling Chapter 22. (clicks remote)

(Begin Chap. 22)

…Harry and Ron hurried as fast as they could to Potions class, with Draco lagging behind at a more laid-back pace. Harry peeked over his shoulder and scowled; Draco almost never had to worry about being late to Snape's class. It was Gryffindor House who always lost points. In a matter of moments they descended further down, the atmosphere becoming more damp and depressing until they finally reached the dungeons of the castle.

It was a scarce two minutes, but it made all the difference in the world to Professor Snape. The second Ron gathered the courage to knock on the door, it burst open with the expected fury.

"Potter and Weasley. I hope you can scrap up a reasonable excuse as to why you're about to lose 10 points."

Was it supposed to be important that Harry picked up on the hesitant way he had said 'Weasley'?

"Professor Mills had to talk to us after class. She said you'd understand," Ron answered. He was still doubtful as to why that would get them off the hook. But before their eyes, Snape took on a whole new facial expression. It was one of extreme agitation, as if he was conflicting with something greatly. Even his eyes were taken off of them for a moment. Finally, he huffed and started back inside. Not taking any chances, Ron and Harry followed, still with Draco behind.

"Mills…hmph. You can count your points safe today. Despite your O.W.L results, you're fortunate we haven't covered anything of importance as of yet."

They took their seats quickly on either side of Hermione, thoroughly puzzled. Professor Mills had only just gotten to Hogwarts and her authority mattered more than Snape's? Harry wasn't sure if he could handle any more surprises this year…

…Later that day, Hermione, Harry, and Ron set out with the students who were taking N.E.W.T Herbology (that included Neville). However, they weren't taking the class themselves. It was another one of their breaks before class…Transfiguration at that. It was either now or after they were loaded down with post-O.W.L. Transfiguration homework. Hagrid's hut was just down the way and at the edge of the Forbidden Forest as it always been. A tune of a flute carried over to their ears; he had whittled himself a new one. They caught him at the right time; he wasn't teaching any classes at the moment. Despite the lack of student support for N.E.W.T-level Care of Magical Creatures class, Hagrid was still able to teach the first four years. He could still take pleasure in that.

The trio quickly descended the steep hill, the two newspapers in Harry's robe. Hagrid stopped playing the flute and started waving to them as soon as they got a few feet closer.

"Ah, I see ya remembered—Ron!" Hagrid suddenly said, catching sight of him. "Guess whatever you was grumpy about finally got done bitin'."

Ron looked away, thinking back once again to how he was in such a rage. "Yeah, I guess. By the way, nobody filled me in on why we're here."

Harry took out the newspapers and showed them to Ron, who gave them back to Hagrid when he was done. "While you were being held hostage by Malfoy, Fudge decided to use the whole thing as some kind of publicity stunt."

"Not a publicity stunt exactly, but he did make it kinda hard on the Order," Hagrid muttered. "I'm not sure if all that dung about him sayin' it all out loud was for tha interests of the community, but he got the message through—ev'ryone was spooked. Unfortunately Rita Skeeter found the story too appealin' not to cover, but Fudge got 'er under control. He kept it under wraps so the Prophet was only able to cover two full stories. Wasn't he at the exchange, Ron?"

The redhead nodded.

"Fudge is summat absentminded. In the end, of course, he didn't mind letting the Order handle negotiations...only 'cause he was so des'prate. But as ya can see he didn't go as far as blurtin' that out," Hagrid added half-jokingly. "By tha' way, how goes the new Defense 'gainst the Dark Arts professor?"

"Professor Mills is wonderful," Hermione exclaimed. "I'd even go back to that absurd Divination class if she's teaching it in shifts."

"She's definitely the best we've had. Nobody'll be able to cause any trouble in there. It's like she has Moody's fake eye," Ron added, although he sounded like he was sorry he wouldn't be able to sneak anything in that class. Harry didn't say anything. He was still attempting to figure out the fear Professor Mills couldn't even speak of. What could be scarier than what Harry had already witnessed?

" 'Arry, whassamatter?"

"Right! What'd Professor Mills keep you for?"

"We have a test next month. We're going to use a Pensieve to face our worst fears. Well, not 'the thing we're scared of most', but our 'worst fear'. She said there was a big difference. Anyway, she kept me, Ron, and Draco after class because she saw our worst fears, and she thinks we won't be able to handle them."

"I don't like the sound of that. If she's scared of your worst fear—" Hermione started.

"But we all told her we're going ahead and doing it. We have to do it again at the end of the year, so what difference does it make?"

"And it's a written test if you don't do it," Ron groaned. "Avoiding one fear to deal with another. A little unfair, don't you think?"

"It may not be so terrible," consoled Hermione. "I'm actually looking forward to it."

"This is our worst fear. Of course it's gonna be terrible!" Ron snapped back. "…I wonder what mine is. I can't think of anything that'd scare me worse than spiders—"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, "wasn't Professor Mills at the House of Black this summer?"

"That's what I realized when I saw her at the banquet."

"She must be doin' undercover work fer the Order. Just became a new member," Hagrid explained. "Met 'er the last week of August. Nice woman. In fact she warned me against keepin' Fang outside last night...and there was some unusual creature breakouts in the Forbidden Forest that same night! But…" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "…can't help but notice the tension 'tween her and Snape. Minute she walked through the castle doors he's been getting more suspicious. Almost like he's afraid of her. And he's bin a bit more kinder."

"Snape? Afraid of someone?" Harry scoffed.

"Well, you can't say she got us out of trouble with him when we were late. Just mention her name and Snape's practically giving out points to Gryffindor!" Ron mentioned. Harry thought about it. No, he couldn't deny it…but he was also wondering about his best friend. Mills had said something equally odd to him, too.

"If I may, he speaks the truth, fantastic though it sounds…" Who was this 'he' she was talking about?

…Later that evening, Hermione was hurrying to Ancient Runes—although she wouldn't have been in any way late. She stopped at a crossways on the fourth-floor hallway and took the left corridor. It may make her walk close to what the students called a piece of the 'Slytherin territory', but she didn't mind if she had to endure a skirmish or two. Well, true to her confidence, Hermione didn't have to endure one, but she did overhear something very interesting…even interesting enough to make her skip the class.

She turned another corner and heard two gruff voices: they belonged to Crabbe and Goyle. Catching the words 'Potter' and 'Malfoy' in the same sentence, she stopped and hung back behind a wall to hear the rest.

"…Malfoy's gotta go through with it. Voldemort'll never forget it if he doesn't."

"…What does he have to do again?"

"He's supposed to fulfill some mission. Something about getting rid of Potter before sixth year is done. Malfoy says he can do this before Christmas holiday, though. It isn't that hard. He's in the kitchens right now."

"Isn't he missing Transfiguration?"

"Who cares about Transfiguration? McGonagall's classes are boring anyway."

"Zabini sure seems worried, though. Didn't he say this was something he could get life in Azkaban for?"

"No one's ever gonna know. He's talking Potter's elf-friend into giving him the pumpkin juice with the potion in it. Everyone thinks Potter's dangerous anyway. It'll just look like he got hexed by You-Know-Who or something. I wonder what he's gonna give his family as a reward…"

Their voices faded away as they walked farther away from Hermione's location. When she made absolutely sure Crabbe and Goyle were gone, she took another way to go down to the painting concealing the entrance of the kitchens.

The halls of the castle were eerily quiet at this time of day, making every little footstep echo. It made a person feel paranoid…it felt unnatural. Why, she never skipped a class ever in her career as a Hogwarts student! But if this had anything to do with Potter being in danger, she had to follow her instinct. What's more, whatever Malfoy was planning it had a direct connection with Voldemort himself. That made the whole affair ten times worse.

Despite these complications, Hermione practically marched down to the fruit painting. Remembering the secret behind it, she reached up and tickled the pear. Jumping around hysterically, the painting eventually revealed the doorway, and she walked inside.

Then just as suddenly as she felt brave, she almost ran back out. Immediately she was greeted by a group of house elves all too eager to do her bidding. (This wasn't what she had established S.P.E.W. for.) But there were more important things to worry about at the moment. Her first question could be answered immediately: what elf here did Malfoy know better than anyone?

Bending down towards one perky female house elf, Hermione asked, "Have any of you seen Dobby?"

"Dobby's never hard to find, miss. He's in the back talking to a Slytherin student," the elf replied.

"Hey, was the Slytherin blonde?"

The elf nodded.

"Thought so," she muttered under her breath. "I've been looking for him a long time. May I see him? I have something very important to tell him."

"They're near the rack of ovens. Would you like me to show you the way?" the female elf offered.

"No thank you. I know the way."

Meandering through a maze of house elves (and repeatedly declining offers of desserts and fruit), she followed a long counter up to the east wall and found herself at one end of the row of baking ovens. There at the other end were Dobby and Draco in the midst of a heated discussion. Much to Hermione's luck, though, Dobby didn't look too willing to follow the plan Draco had in mind. She knew that wouldn't work. Dobby might have been his former servant, but he clearly had a stronger allegiance to Harry.

"Dobby was freed from Master Malfoy by Harry Potter four years ago. Dobby doesn't have to do what you say anymore. Harry Potter is brave and kind and honorable and Draco Malfoy is a mean, spoiled little boy! Draco Malfoy has something bad planned. Dobby won't do it!"

"I do not have something planned!" Draco retorted, looking equally harassed. "I just want you to give him this cup of pumpkin juice at dinner. He's sick and I put some…medicine in it for him."

"Draco Malfoy was never friends with Harry Potter. Dobby knows what Draco Malfoy is up to; Draco Malfoy wants to do a mean prank!"

"This isn't a prank, Dobby. It's something worse."

Both of them turned to see her. "Granger, what're you doing here?"

"To be honest, I don't know myself. But I overheard Crabbe and Goyle saying you were up to something—trying to get rid of Harry on behalf of You-Know-Who," she demanded, arching an eyebrow.

Dobby gasped and shrunk away from Draco, pointing a gnarled finger in his face.

"Dobby was right! Dobby never trusted you—"

"Obliviate!"

Before Dobby could guard himself, Draco pulled out his wand and performed the Memory Charm on the house elf. For a moment it looked like he was frozen in time. After the initial shock wore off Dobby shook his head, his bat-like ears flapping every which way. With a confused gaze he turned his big, watery eyes on the two adversaries, repeatedly asking what was going on. Satisfied with his task, Draco smirked with a touch more malice than usual and started talking to the confused house elf.

"I was saying, elf, that I need you to deliver that goblet of pumpkin juice to Potter at dinner…"

From behind, Hermione pulled out her wand and was a second away from delivering an impressive hex she learned from Harry himself in Dumbledore's Army last year. In the nick of time, however, Draco ducked and gave back the tripping hex he used on Harry the same year. Bookbag and all, she made a messy landing a couple of feet away from Dobby, who was still confused. Trying to recover from the sting of the sharp and cold stone floor she turned around to see the blonde Slytherin looming over her.

"None of you ever get tired of playing hero, do you? No matter. You won't remember anything about this either, Mudblood…Obliviate!"

After the light from the spell waved off, Draco performed the Petrificus Totalus spell on her for extra measure, then ensured that Dobby went through with the plan not knowing what happened just a couple of minutes before. Luckily for him, Dobby seemed willing, not questioning whether the two had any friendly relation.

However, faint voices of a seldom-used conscience (i.e., Blaise) kept repeating in his head. Well, he was too far now, and the haunting rasps of Voldemort overshadowed his ex-boyfriend. Just in case this plan didn't work, the dragon-shaped bottle dangling from his necklace still held over half of the Malefecium Elixir. It didn't take much of the potion to drive a person to agonizing insanity.

Making his way back through the elves, he left the kitchens, looked both ways and started towards the Slytherin Common Room. He sighed heavily. Something was continuing to bother him, something more great than whatever Blaise could do. But he wasn't ready to accept it, even if it was true. Even if this wrenching pain in his stomach was guilt based on suppressed love, his desire for Potter held no importance compared to Voldemort's ultimate plan.

(End Chap. 22)

Me: Mmm…I don't have much to say about that either, except Draco might be kicking himself in the morning.

Draco: It couldn't have been that easy.

Me: (hums, like people do when they know something nobody else doesn't) Patience, my muses, patience. Until Chapter 23! Sorry this took so long to get out, by the way. Most of my muses were drunk during Karaoke Night so they weren't much help during these past couple of weeks.

Harry: I wish you wouldn't lead us on like this, and I only had two cups of brandy!