Chapter 12
Finally, my feet hit the ground. I feel like I've been in the air for a year.
I try to let go of Malfoy, but my hands won't release him. He shifts a little and then clears his throat. I force my hands to separate and dismount, hurrying away from him.
We're standing in a backyard, with a huge variety of plants growing. Odd place… I look around warily, wondering if Death Eaters could be hiding behind some of the larger bushes. My eyes rest on the small house in front of me.
I hear Malfoy's voice.
"Mind lifting the Disillusionment Charm?"
I remember that I'm still invisible and lift the charm on myself before going over to do the same for him.
"We're going to meet here, then?" I ask.
He doesn't answer me, and I start to feel frustrated. Why does he feel that it's acceptable for him to constantly ignore my questions? I watch him pull open the back door of the cottage and disappear inside. I contemplate staying outside out of spite, forcing him to come get me. But that's childish.
With a sigh, I head for the entrance.
I look around as I step inside, taking in the small, sparsely furnished living room that I've entered. The room is lit only by firelight from the fireplace—an unlit brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The walls are painted Slytherin green, and a couch, positioned to face the fireplace, is a deep forest green.
My inspection of the room is cut short when Malfoy speaks, "There aren't Death Eaters hidden in the walls."
Annoyed, I turn to him and repeat my question from outside. "Are we going to meet here, Malfoy?"
"Yes, this is where we're going to meet. It'll be safer if you Apparate straight into this room."
After a brief pause, I ask, "Who lives here?"
He shakes his head at me. "No one."
Frowning, I look around the room again, planning to ask how he found a place like this, and how he could be sure that it was safe. "How did you—"
"You should leave," he says, interrupting me. "I have to get going too."
He stands.
I hesitate. He doesn't have a wand. "Do you need me to take you anywhere?"
He laughs at me, and I immediately regret asking.
"Do you really think you'd be able to take me to any place where I'd have to be? The Manor maybe?" he scoffs. "Just get going."
I glare at him. I don't even know why I bothered trying to be nice. He's a haughty prat. Why oh why did the others have to plop him down on me?
"Bye, Malfoy."
I lift my wand and Disapparate before he can say anything.
I reappear on the doorstep of Number 12 a moment later and rap on the door.
This time, Ginny is the one who opens the door, and after the same routine questions, I'm allowed to enter the house.
"Harry and Ron wanted to—" she begins, but she's interrupted when Harry and Ron come down the steps and see me.
"Hermione!" Harry exclaims, relief spreading over his face,
The curtains before Mrs. Black's portrait fly open, and she starts screaming again.
"Harry, how could you forget?" Ginny says exasperatedly, trying to pull the curtains back. Harry hurries to help her, looking apologetic.
I shut the door and turn around in time to get a hug from Ron.
"I'm so glad you got back safely," he says.
I disentangle myself from his arms and smile. "He was unarmed, couldn't have hurt me if he wanted to."
Mrs. Black's loud complaints are cut off mid-word, and Harry turns to me.
"Hermione, Blaise just got back. He didn't look very good, but—"
Before he can finish speaking, I dash up the stairs. What could have happened to him? I can hear Harry and Ron clambering up the steps behind me, keeping quiet to avoid waking Mrs. Black again. I move straight into their bedroom and see Blaise lying unconscious on his bed.
"What happened to him?" I ask, leaning over him and touching his forehead.
"We don't know," Harry says, glancing at Ron.
Ginny enters the room and shuts the door behind her.
"He showed up a few minutes ago and just fainted on the doorstep," Ron says. "Harry just took him into the house, without asking him anything."
"He was unconscious. What was I supposed to do?" Harry says defensively.
"Did Shacklebolt and the others leave already, then?"
"Yes," Ron says. "Katie's gone to find Lupin and Tonks."
I point my wand at Blaise. "Rennervate."
His eyelids flutter before slowly parting to reveal the gold-flecked brown of his irises. I sit down on the side of his bed so I can get a closer look at him.
"Hermione," he mutters in a hoarse voice that's hardly recognizable.
Hearing his voice, Harry and Ginny move closer.
"Blaise, you're awake. What happened to you? What do you feel—are you hurt?" I ask.
He smiles weakly and shakes his head minutely. Then his eyes close again.
"Blaise, no—stay with me," I say.
I take a deep breath and try to think of any healing spells I might know. But most of them are for visible wounds, and as far as I can see, there's nothing wrong with him.
"Boys, help me take his shirt off."
"What?" Ron says, flabbergasted.
"I want to see if there are any marks on him," I explain.
Then I realize that I don't have to remove the shirt manually and flick my wand to Vanish it. His chest and arms are unblemished, and I can't understand what's happened to him. His breathing seems to be getting shallower, and I glance back at Harry and Ginny.
"So he didn't say anything before he fainted?" I ask.
I turn back before they can answer and shake his shoulders, wondering if I can get him to say just a word, anything that'll hint to me what happened to him.
"Maybe he's not saying anything because he can't," Harry says.
An idea occurs to me. I conjure a small knife and nick his shoulder lightly, just deep enough to draw blood.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
Sure enough, the blood that oozes out is a dark brown color.
"He's been poisoned," I inform them. "It was a Bloodroot Potion—we can cure it with the Antidote for Uncommon Poisons. I'm sure we have some downstairs…"
Harry leaves without another word to get the antidote, and Ginny follows him out.
"What exactly does Bloodroot Poison do to people?" Ron asks.
"It's called Bloodroot Potion, not Poison—that's a common mistake. If brewed correctly, it rots their insides," I say, looking at Blaise. "The Antidote should be able to restore everything to normal, if it hasn't been too long."
"Why wouldn't he be able to speak?"
"The um… the potion works through vocal chords pretty quickly. Since he was able to say my name earlier, he must not have drunk it too long ago."
Oh, he must be in so much pain. I murmur a charm that's supposed to numb pain. I don't know how much help it'll be for internal injuries, but I hope it'll do something for him. He opens his eyes a crack, and I lean closer.
"Blaise, we know what's wrong now. You'll be fine, I promise," I say.
Another weak smile, and his eyes close again.
Then Harry and Ginny return with a small vial. I take it from them and turn to Blaise.
"Conjure a bucket. He'll have to throw up the poison that he drank," I say without looking at them.
I remove the stopper and pull on Blaise's jaw, forcing his mouth open. I pour all the contents of the vial into his mouth—I don't know how much of the poison he drank.
The reaction is almost instantaneous. He jerks upward, and his torso twists so that he can throw up over the side of the bed. Harry places the bucket next to his bed just in time. The liquid that comes out of his mouth has a violet hue, as I'd expected.
When he's done, I gently push him back onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow.
"Do you feel any better?" I ask.
He looks at me and gives me yet another weak smile.
"Is that really all you're capable of?" I ask him, smiling back.
He shakes his head again and closes his eyes. A moment later, his breathing deepens, an indication that he's fallen asleep. I let the feeling of relief wash over me. Thank goodness.
"So… he'll be all right?" Ginny asks.
"Yes," I reply.
She sighs, relieved, and sits down on Harry's bed.
"Hermione?" Ron says quietly from behind me.
I nod to acknowledge that I've heard him, but I don't turn to face him.
"Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
I'm loath to part with Blaise right now—for some reason, I want to be there when he wakes up. But I suppose I can spare some time to talk to Ron, see what he wants from me.
"It's okay, Hermione," Harry says, patting my shoulder. "Ginny and I will be watching over him. He'll be right here when you get back."
I get to my feet, take another look at Blaise's face, and then turn to follow Ron out of the room. We cross the hall into my room, and I sit down on the bed.
"What did you want to talk about?" I ask.
He shifts his feet awkwardly. "I know that I've been a bit of an arse about… well, about everything. But I just… sometimes I wish things didn't end the way they did between us," he says.
Oh, for goodness' sake. It's been over two years since we broke up. I don't even know what to say to that. I've been over him since I got back from Rome with Harry and Blaise.
When I don't reply, he continues, "But erm, I know that you haven't felt the same way in… in a long time."
At least he knows.
"I've been pretty bitter toward Zabini ever since you and Harry brought him back. I… it's just that I felt… replaced. Harry chose to go with you instead of staying with me, and when you two brought back a third person with you—"
"Oh Ron, why is this still bothering you, after all this time? Why couldn't you talk about it before?"
"Just let me get it out, all right?"
I sigh. "Go ahead."
"The reason why I'm bringing it up now is… it's because I just want to tell you that I'm going to try to be better about that. I still don't like Zabini, but… well, he's friends with you and Harry now, and I guess I just want to say that I'm going to try my best to get along with him."
"That's good to hear," I say.
He walks over to me and picks up my right hand in both of his, gently running his thumbs over the back of it. It's something he used to do when we were together, and I slowly pull my hand away.
"You know, I… I still feel like we were meant to be together," he says.
Um, what? "I thought you agreed with me that it was time—" I begin to say.
"No, no. I only said that because I could tell that you didn't feel the same anymore. I thought that maybe if you spent some time away from me, you would eventually remember all the good things, and you'd rediscover your feelings for me."
"Ron, I can't—"
"I've never stopped loving you, Hermione."
I shake my head at him. "Ron, I don't feel—"
"I know, I know," he says. "I'm just… I'm sure that it'll work out eventually."
"Please don't think that way, Ron. We already had a chance, and it didn't work out. We can be friends, but nothing more," I say. I feel bad for trying to crush his hope, but he won't be able to move on if he can't accept that we're really over.
He smiles. "It's all right, Hermione. I just wanted to say that I'll try to change, for you."
I don't want him to change for me. I want him to change for himself, for everyone else, for anyone but me. Why doesn't he see that there isn't anything left between us?
But this is taking up so much time, and I want to stay at Blaise's side.
"Thank you, then," I say quietly. "But honestly, you already know that I've moved on."
"I know."
He exits the room without another word, and I wonder if I've hurt him too much. But he should have been over this long ago. I hear his footsteps going up the stairs, and I wonder who he's going to talk to. I doubt the twins would be much help to him—they only ever tease him. Maybe he just wants to be alone.
I exit my room and cross the hall, entering the boys' room.
"He hasn't woken up yet," Harry reports.
He's sitting next to Ginny on his bed.
"Thanks," I say. "You two don't have to stay here, if you don't want to. I'll call you if I need anything."
"Oh, Lupin came over. Tonks wasn't home—left as soon as she got home to get in touch with Mundungus. I told him about Blaise, and he took a look at him," Harry says.
"Where is he now?"
"He went to the kitchen to make some more Antidote," Ginny replies.
"All right, then. So he didn't see anything wrong with Blaise?" I ask.
"No, he said Blaise is going to be fine," Harry says, smiling at me.
He gets to his feet and takes Ginny's hand to lead her out of the room. He looks between me and Blaise before exiting the room. The door swings closed, and I hear the lock click into place—Harry must have locked it from the outside.
I sit down on the side of Blaise's bed and reach out to cup his cheek with my hand. His skin is very warm and smooth. His breaths are slow and even.
Lupin thinks he'll be fine… that's good enough for me.
Then I feel a burning sensation on my chest and jump, surprised. Damn, it's that charm.
I turn away from Blaise and pull it out from beneath my shirt to look at it, holding it by the chain so that I won't be burned again. The time and date that had been etched there before slowly disappear before my eyes.
When nothing new appears, I frown and turn the charm around. On the opposite side, two capital letters have appeared in elegant, curvy script.
HG
My initials.
What the hell is Malfoy up to?