In Aster Stars: A Tale of Mystery and Magic

Chapter Six

By Meladara

The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, and WB.

I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

A/N: I don't know how I managed to get this done. But I have it, so I might as well post it! Enjoy, dears! Let me know what you think. This is a bit of a slow moving tale, but I hope you are enjoying it.

~squishes~, Mel

It was early evening when the kitchen door at the Burrow slammed, startling Ginny from her book. Harry stalked past Mrs Weasley, who was too busy cooking to even notice his passing, and into the sitting room. With a disgusted look on his face, he thrust a crumpled letter toward a surprised Ginny.

"Read it," he growled before walking away in frustration.

My Dearest Hermione,

I can see now that I shouldn't have said those things in front of everyone. It was embarrassing for you, but you know, think of how embarrassing it was for me, too. I put myself out there and you just left me high and dry.

Anyhow, I'm going to do things properly now.

I want to take you on a date. A real date. We can go to a nice restaurant and even go to one of your Muggle moving picture things. A moovy - I think is what you called it.

The timing is perfect, we have just enough time before my interview with the Cannons next week. After that, hopefully I'll be at training camp. Of course, I will come visit you as often as I can. You know I don't care anything for the fan girls that flock after the teams.

You may not be a beautiful as some of them, but you are the one that I want, Hermione.

The kiss we shared was amazing. I want to show you how much you mean to me.

Just think! By next summer you will have finished school and I will be a famous Quidditch player. We'll have everything we truly ever wanted. I've already talked to my Mum about it, and she says that if we want we can have a garden wedding at the Burrow.

Owl me to let me know when to pick you up.

Ron

"Bah...That idiot. Did he really think that this rubbish would win her heart?" Ginny scoffed to no-one in particular as she set out to find to where Harry had run off.

"Harry!" she called as she spied the figure darting to and fro in the sky. Watching him descend, she smoothed and then folded the letter, before placing it in her pocket. Making her way to an old bench that sat under the large birch tree in the garden, she waited for Harry.

"What do you think?" her boyfriend said unceremoniously, quickly jumping from his broom without missing a beat.

"I think he's daft, if you want to know the truth. She's seen it, I assume?" Ginny patted the space on the bench next to her.

"Um... Yes. It arrived late this afternoon, after our visit to Hogwarts," Harry answered as he slid into the spot she had indicated. Leaning against Ginny and enjoying the comfort he found in her presence, he continued. "She was already upset, but after this her sadness turned to anger. You know Hermione, give her something good to rant on and she'll run with it for a mile. And he certainly gave her quite a bit to rant over."

Ginny chuckled and nodded in agreement. If Ginny knew Hermione, she would do more than rant. It was the least that she would expect of her friend.

"We definitely need to talk to him and your mother before they see her again, or she is going to hex his bits off," Harry said, echoing Ginny's thought. "Does he really think that he is in love with her?" he asked before mumbling to himself, "He is a clueless idiot."

"You've seen him moping around; he is clueless and got his head in the clouds. Mum isn't much better. I thought it was because of Fred... I didn't realise that they had cooked up something this ridiculous. Obviously, he fancies himself in love, but it seems that he forgot to make sure the girl was on board."

"One of us," the look Harry sent Ginny made it perfectly clear exactly that person was not him, "needs to talk to him about sending her letters like that. She doesn't need to deal with stuff like this right now."

Ginny sighed. "Alright, I will talk to him and Mum. But I want to know what is going on with Hermione. You've kept everything very tight-lipped since you visited her yesterday, and it is clear that you are worried about her. She is my friend, too, Harry, and if she needs help I want to be there for her. Do you plan on seeing her again soon?"

"Yeah. If it is alright with you, I want to keep taking her to and from Hogwarts while she is doing her research. I don't need to stay, but don't like the idea of her travelling alone. I want to make sure she is safe, and she isn't in any state to take care of herself. You don't mind do you?"

"I don't mind if she doesn't," Ginny said with a laughed. "Have you told her that you are acting as her personal body guard yet?

"Ha. Ha. Yes, I told her before I left today. She didn't seem to keen on the idea to start off with, but in the end, she conceded that it was for the best. She said she'd let me play hero body guard for awhile."

"You are a good friend, Harry." Ginny leaned over and placed a quick kiss on Harry's cheek. Then, marching off to find her brother, Ginny decided it was time to teach an imbecile a thing or two about tact.

Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through and spilled over the papers that were strewn across the table. Hermione rubbed her eyes and swept back the hair that had escaped from the hastily assembled bun that had appeared in her hair sometime mid-work. Thoroughly drained, she leaned back in the chair.

She was working in the Hogwarts library alone today. Harry had offered to help her again, but she had assured him that she could do this alone. She didn't want to let her demons haunt her anymore more than she had to, and in this, she could take some small measure of control. He had left her just inside Hogwarts gate that morning with a promise to pick her up in the early evening, and she had set about getting to work as quickly as possible.

It had been a second day of frustrating research, and Hermione was feeling defeated and more than a little bit sleepy. Something was going to have to be done about the nightmares soon, even if it meant taking dreamless sleep for a time. Her body could not keep functioning on so little sleep for much longer.

The majority of her day had been devoted to the book that Madam Pomfrey had given her, iHælan Magicks/i. It was a thin, leather-bound text that was clearly hundreds of years old. Written in Middle English, the wording was so obscure that it had been necessary for her to cast a translation charm on the book to make any progress at all.

Navigating the book through the translation charm had made things especially difficult and kept her progress through the text at a snail's pace.

She had started by looking examining the book for any specific references to Muggles but had quickly come to realise that the term had not in use during the time period. So far she had only found a single reference to what she guessed was the time period equivalent, the iUngifted/i it had called them. However, that passage had been so obscure it hadn't made any sense to her. The translation simply said:

iWhen in contact with those Ungifted, unless life or limb shall be put at risk, it is wisest not to administer to them until the Aster has arrived. For their mind will reject the presence of power until the Aster they have met. /i

Now, after many more hours of research, it was the only piece of seemingly valuable information she had found, and it didn't amount to much. Following the reading of the passage, she had even checked several Herbology texts for the common magical usages of aster flowers, only to be left further disappointed. It had been a long shot, she had known. It was unlikely that asters could affect Muggles in any way. They were rarely used in potions, and when they were used, they did not carry any mind-altering affects. But facing yet another road block, she felt the stress of the situation again building within her.

Looking over her notes methodically for a time, Hermione looked for any possible pattern or information that she had missed. Then, when it became clear that she was wasting time, Hermione closed the still open Herbology texts and trust away the notes. Resolving to ask Professor Sprout when she returned for the year, she stacked the books for re-shelving and tidied her work space. The continuous lack of success was frustrating. But she was far too tired to harness the patience for the long and winding path of research right now.

Knowing that she had an hour before dinner, Hermione resolved to get up and get some stretch her legs. A walk through the castle might at least help clear her head, and if she stayed away from the more volatile areas – areas that had seen the most battle – then she stood a good chance of coming up with some idea of where to go from here. At the very least, after dinner she would be awake enough to slip back into the library for a while and look through the Who's Who books for Tilinus. Not that she really believe she would have anymore success there than she'd already had at this point.

It was unaccountable why her feet had taken her here. Well, she knew why... It was this ever present need to understand her dreams of the former Potions Professor. As she sat in the chair and surveyed the room, she noted that it still smelled of him, despite his having been absent from it for over two years. He had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor during her sixth year, and during her year on the run, he'd been the acting Headmaster.

Hermione sighed and lay her head down on the tabletop before her, it was cold under her cheek, and for a moment the cool touch of the smooth surface caused her mind flared to life. Her eyes fixed on the desk – his desk. It stood at the front of the front of the room. Inhaling deeply through her nose, each of her senses sparked to life and the phantom form of Professor Snape stalking back and forth before his desk materialized within her mind.

Mesmerized, she sat in frozen fascination with head resting upon the cold tabletop as the Professor stalked before her, until her eyes slowly fluttered closed, and she drifted off to sleep.

Hermione never noticed the change, from awake to sleep. Still he marched before her, never changing or faltering, in front of the classroom. Only now...

...his robe billowed with life and the sounds and smells of percolating cauldrons rose up around her, permeating the space.

Steam swirled before her, momentarily clouding her view of her tall Professor and causing her to look down, only to find herself sitting in her Hogwarts uniform and a cauldron bubbling before her. Peering over the edge, she found that the contents were deep blue and smelled of cedar and something else… It was a spicy yet creamy scent that brought to mind memories of wet autumn leaves and warm fires.

Picking up the stirring rod, Hermione dipped it into the mixture to test the thickness and texture. Gently lifting the rod from the liquid, she noted that it was coated the rod with a syrup-like mixture, which appeared to be almost clear. Wondering what this brew was, she looked up to search the classroom blackboard for clues.

As Hermione's eyes focussed on the spot where the blackboard should be, she felt the world around her fade, leaving behind only the workstation before her and the moving shadow of her Professor, who was currently moving somewhere just beyond her peripheral vision. Turning to look toward his, she found that he had once again moved out of her periphery.

When Hermione turned back to her workstation and bubbling cauldron, she noticed that a bowl of purple star-like blossoms was now sitting next to her cauldron.

'Asters,' Hermione thought.

Instinctively, her hand reached out and lifted a flower from the bowl. Then, after plucking all the petals from the flower, she grabbed the silver knife laying to her right and began to chop them into tiny pieces.

With peace and fluidity she worked, concentrating entirely on making the exacting movements which would result in perfectly processed ingredients.

As the shadow, which had until now stayed just out of view, fell across her table, Hermione's hand faltered and then froze.

Standing still, she watched as the shadow that represented her Potions Master moved across the table. The scent of potions ingredients and the warmth and energy of his standing so close behind her seems to swirl around her in an almost palpable manner. Then, just when she felt that she could stay still no longer, the shadow stopped, and she felt the gentle brush of something as soft as silk across her neck.

Hermione gasped. He was looking over her shoulder, into her cauldron.

"It is still soft," she said in whisper. "Your hair." The words falling from her lips involuntarily.

His head bobbed as he gave a small nod, and then the warmth of his body pressing against her back increased as he leaned in and covered her still frozen, knife wielding hand, with his own hand. As his fingers rested upon hers, she felt his other hand grip in a light grasp at her waist, steadying and uniting them as a single working unit. She couldn't help but stiffen in shock. Part of her was waiting for him to indicate what she was supposed to do, while the other part was simply surprised in general.

Slowly, his fingers wrapped around hers, pressing and squeezing at her hand, causing tiny pricks of nervousness to erupt all over her body.

With a barely perceptible move, he beckoned for her to begin chopping again, his hair brushing on her cheek, his hand burning against her flesh, he warmth and scent driving away her ability to form coherent thought.

Up and down the knife moved in the twinned hands, as he guided her movements into a refined surgical precision.

Breathing in through her nose, her eyes stayed fixed on their work. Watching and concentrating as best she could, the once purple petals were macerated into thousands of pieces, each about one half millimeter square.

As the knife stilled, his hand pulled away from hers and settled at her wrist, his long fingers stretching forward into the back of her hand, caressing and then pressing. As he guided her hand and the knife onto their side so that they were parallel with the table, he lifted her hand from the table and moved it away from their work space. As the knife touched the table, Hermione allowed it to slip from her grasp. His gentle, guiding movement held her completely mesmerised.

As her hands were freed, though not his grasp, her mind was drawn to the shadow of the man who was still enfolding her.

Allowing herself to relax, her back pressed against his chest, and she could feel the tickle of his hair on her neck once again. The hand on her tightened it's hold sharply in response to her relaxation, stilling any further movement.

Hermione's racing heart pounding in her chest as her face grew warm with embarrassment.

They stood, frozen, as seconds ticked past, as if neither of them where sure what was happening or where they should go from here.

As the warmth of his breath rolled down her cheek and slipped down into the neck of her blouse, Hermione's tongue darted out and wet her lips in an unconscious movement. Goose flesh erupted over her body, and she shivered, unsure of what to do.

After a moment, his hand, which was still encircling her wrist, began to move up her sensitive arm. Dragging the tip of his fingers along her skin, she trembled beneath him. His fingers stopped at her shoulder, clasping it softly.

His head turned toward her. Eyes fluttering closed, she felt the brush of his nose against her check and a warm puff of breath in her ear. Surrendering utterly to his control, she felt the hand on her shoulder press her forward and to the left, while the hand on her waist pulled back simultaneously.

Hermione felt him step back, to account for her movement. Heat from his body faded, and she found she lamented the loss of contact.

Eyes still closed, her entire awareness was composed of those two points of contact, pressing and pulling against her. Spinning her around.

She turned with aching slowness, and then before she understood what was happening she found herself pulled into a second turn.

And another…

A/N: Bwaaahaha! Don't hate me! ;)