Title: Fire and Powder
Chapter: 9
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'll just go cry about that now.
Note: HELLO. Sorry this took longer than I thought, I spontaneously decided to have a life this weekend. It was quite peculiar, in a moment of weakness I gave my number to this mild to moderately drunk guy on Friday night after hanging out with a friend at this sorta lame club. Anyway, that proved to be quite the distraction because I am ridiculously inexperienced when it comes to guys (I blame this mostly on having attended an all girls boarding school for high school). But enough about my pathetic social life! This chapter is twice the size of my regular ones, so hopefully that makes up for my absence! Enjoyyyy, thanks for the nice reviews, you guys make my life.
"You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream."
— Edgar Allen Poe
"Did you have to act like such a child?" Hermione questioned, turning her anger on him the second they were back out in the street.
"That woman was being difficult." Malfoy stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets.
"I don't care what she was being! She was the only one who has any answers about all of this!" Hermione said, exasperated.
Draco didn't bother responding. This was just great. Not only was he bonded with bloody Granger, but now he was destined to die as well. His head ached as he tried to wrap his mind around the concept.
"Well?" Hermione prompted.
"Hmmph?" he responded.
"Are you even listening to what I'm saying, Malfoy?!"
Draco didn't respond. Hermione fumed. "I asked what the plan was!"
Draco whirled on her. "You tell me! This whole situation is completely—" unfair. He was going to say this situation was completely unfair, but of course Granger already knew that. He sighed and shook his head, frustrated.
"I know you're angry, trust me, I am too," Hermione replied, walking beside him down the busy street. "But I've already died once, please don't make me do it again."
"What do you want me to do?" Draco answered sharply.
"I—I don't know, but we have to do something! We can't just give up! You've—" She saw the angry look on Draco's face and opted for a more neutral term, "We've been given a second chance, we can't give up already!"
"Save your Gryffindor motivational speeches for someone who cares," Draco bit out.
"No! You can't just give up! I'll die! Well, I'll die for real! And you'll die too!"
Draco didn't even flinch at her words, which alarmed Hermione. He clearly didn't care for her life, hell, he'd killed her to begin with, right? But didn't he value his own life? He couldn't just give up if it meant sudden death, could he?
"You can't just—"
"Sod off," Malfoy snarled, having enough.
He walked in silence for a few seconds, marveling at how Granger hadn't launched into another speech worthy of Godric Gryffindor himself.
"Granger—" he turned around, reading to say…what? He wasn't going to apologize, that's for sure. It didn't matter, she was already gone.
Draco sat at the dining room table the next morning, eying his parents warily. He had heard them come in the previous night, but had pretended to be asleep in case they came to check on him. They didn't.
His father looked the same as usual, sipping his tea and gazing over the local Wizard newspaper. Draco knew better than to ask how last night went with Sunik, he just prayed his father wasn't angry about the incident yesterday, and that he wouldn't keep him out of the loop.
"Draco," his mother greeted, "How did your visit go yesterday evening?"
Draco saw the concern on his mother's face and felt a pang of guilt keeping the truth from her, but he knew better than to tell her. She wouldn't understand. Well, maybe she would be more understanding than his father, but that was the problem. Lucius couldn't know, of that Draco was certain. He didn't know how his father would react, and he didn't need any reason to make him mad.
Draco took a casual sip of his tea, noting that it needed more sugar. "It was alright."
"What did they say?"
In his peripheral vision, Draco saw his father's eyes on him, and he instinctively occluded his mind to the intrusion he knew was coming. "She sensed a presence as well and promptly disposed of it."
His parents were no seers, Draco knew. They wouldn't know he was lying.
"Did they mention where you might have acquired such an intrusion?" Lucius asked.
"The woman said I could have picked it up anywhere, even here in Cadiz." Draco added a scoop of sugar to his tea, longing to add more but knowing his father would disapprove.
"Maybe you should relax for the rest of the day, dear," his mother offered, patting his hand reassuringly.
Draco nodded by way of answer, though he knew he wouldn't be doing much relaxing anytime soon.
They proceeded with the rest of breakfast in silence.
Draco sat in one of the library's many large chairs, wishing it wasn't so hot in this old house. It seemed to retain the Spanish heat, and Draco's wardrobe was incredibly limited at the moment. He only had his winter clothes with him which was most unfortunate at the moment. Giving up on propriety—it's not like anyone was in here to see him anyway—he unbuttoned his white button down shirt until it was half hanging open, revealing his sweaty bare skin to the air.
He pulled another book into his lap and tried not to think about whether he was wrong to have sent Granger away again. She'd been around for so long, he'd forgotten she could disappear at random intervals. He probably shouldn't have, considering they were both facing imminent doom, but she was just so damn annoying sometimes and he didn't have time for her damned Gryffindor courage.
Sighing, he opened the book. This one was called The History of Ancient Spells circa 50 bc – 1000 ad. The first three tomes he skimmed through had nothing, and he was starting to suspect this house's library wasn't expansive enough to help him with this.
Skimming through the index, he located the date he was looking for. 600 ad was not a busy year in Wizarding history, evidently. There were only a few spells listed under the heading. He had to read through ancient spells he'd never heard of before, but alas, there was Nodum de Animae.
He read through the short passage, finding it annoyingly similar to what he read last night. He stopped short in his reading when he reached the term full redemption. Taking a deep breath, he began reading the explanation.
Full redemption can be reached only through the willing collaboration of both souls in atoning the sins that lead to the killing of the second bonded soul. If full redemption isn't reached within one orbit of the moon, both souls will pass on.
Willing collaboration? How was he expected to ever collaborate with Granger when just a few days ago he was responsible for her death! How could anyone ever possibly survive this spell?! And one orbit of the moon? That's only 30 days! Draco counted in backwards in his head to estimate the amount of time that had passed already. It had almost been a week! A week! That's a good portion of the month gone and passed already! Draco felt panic taking over his senses. His blood rushed in his ears, his heart pounding, sweat sticking his open shirt to him even more. He couldn't deal with this.
"Granger!" he shouted into the empty library.
If they had to work together willingly then damn it she needed to be here instead of dawdling off in space or wherever she went when she disappeared!
"Granger!" he repeated when she didn't immediately appear in front of him. "I need you to help me! Come on!"
He fought the urge to get up and punch the wall and stomp his foot like an impertinent child. But damn it where was she?! He could make her disappear on command, why couldn't he make her appear on command too?
"Goddammit, Granger! Appear right now or Merlin help me I'll—" he never got to finish his thought because at that moment Granger appeared in front of him, looking confused and disoriented.
"Where were you?!" he shouted, glaring up at her from his chair.
She glared back. "Don't have a temper tantrum, Malfoy, it was you who sent me away in the first place!"
"Where do you go?" he asked, suddenly calmer now that she was finally here. He was starting to feel crazy screaming into space like that. Good thing he remembered to set up a silencing spell earlier or else his parents would have been very concerned, and that was the last thing he needed. "Where do you go when I…you know?"
"When you command me to leave?" Hermione asked, angry he couldn't even say it. "I actually don't know. It's dark, I think, I don't ever remember it much, actually…" she trailed off, searching her brain for more information but coming up blank. "It's like I was just with you in that street. You yelled at me to sod off, and…here I am."
Draco didn't know how to respond, so he didn't, choosing to fiddle with the book in his lap instead.
Hermione suddenly noticed the expanse of pale skin, glinting slightly with a light sheen of sweat, peeking from between an unbuttoned shirt. "Why are you shirtless?" she blurted out without thinking, trying not to look but failing.
Draco looked down at his chest, having forgotten that he unbuttoned his shirt. "I'm not shirtless, Granger, don't you have eyes? It's sweltering in here, don't be such a prude."
Hermione huffed. She was not a prude!
"If you're done critiquing my wardrobe, I have something actually productive to discuss. Look," He handed her the book and pointed to the passage he read. "It defines full redemption."
Hermione's eyes quickly scanned the text and she looked up when she was finished. "So we have to atone for my death? Together?"
"Together willingly," Draco clarified, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.
"And we only have a month…"
"Less, at this point," Draco reminded.
"How are we going to do it?"
Draco sighed. He had been asking the same question since last night. "I was hoping you would have some ideas."
Hermione mulled it over, settling herself in a nearby chair, settling the book in her lap. "Well," she began. "There's the obvious."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're going to have to be blunt, Granger. Contrary to popular belief, I can't read your mind." Actually he could, if she was looking at him. Or did that not work on dead people?
"You could switch from the dark, stop being a death eater, fight for the light," she said this so casually, as if discussing choosing to wear white rather than black, not defying debatably the most powerful Wizard in the world.
"One does not simply 'stop being a death eater,' as you so eloquently put it." He rolled up his sleeve, showing her the mark for emphasis. "See this? He marked me for life. My family can leave the country, cross the entire continent, but we can't hide from him forever."
"Is that what you're doing?" Hermione asked suddenly, seeing an opportunity to finally get the whole story. "Your family escaped?"
Draco scoffed. "Not willingly, I assure you." He figured it was past the point of trying to keep it from her. She's been brought into the situation whether he liked it or not. Plus, it's not as if she was able to tell anyone, nobody could even see her. Well, at least for the most part.
"After I…" he hesitated.
"After you killed me?" she said directly. He wondered how she could speak of it so plainly when he couldn't even bring himself to think of it.
"Yes, after, Potter and Weasley escaped the manor," Draco ignored Hermione's gasp, "And we bloody well couldn't stick around after that."
"They escaped?" Hermione asked, unable to contain the flood of relief. They were alive. Her friends were alive!
"They always do, don't they?"
Hermione smiled for the first time in what felt like eternity. Draco ignored her, fighting the pang of something in his chest. Not guilt. Definitely not guilt.
The rest of the day was spent pouring over books, scouring the pages for clues. The chairs grew too constrained, so they moved to the floor, spreading books like maps along the floor, connecting what few dots they could find.
They didn't gather much. They learned that the average amount of time they had to reach full redemption was between 27 to 40 days. They also uncovered that the spell was very popular in the Middle Ages, but because it often ended in both parties demise, it had since lost its appeal.
"Dumbledore must have been planning this spell for a while," Hermione concluded.
"Does that old coot plan anything?" Draco asked facetiously while adding another book to the steadily growing pile at his side.
Hermione stopped reading to glare over at Draco who was sitting on the rug with his back against a chair across from her. Books rested like a fortress between them. "Dumbledore was the greatest Wizard of our time! I'd be surprised if there was anything he didn't plan."
"I can think of one thing," Draco muttered sullenly, reflecting on their own situation. Dumbledore may have been madly brilliant (emphasis on the madly) but there was no way even he could have predicted his own spell would backfire on him like this. The old man was dead in his grave, while Granger sat here with him, facing imminent doom.
"Yes, well…" Hermione trailed off, unable to dispute his logic on that one. She couldn't picture Dumbledore not knowing something. She couldn't picture him being wrong. It was like expecting the sun to shine at night; it didn't happen. Dumbledore was never wrong. Dumbledore was—"Wait."
Draco watched Hermione's brown eyes filled with understanding, a gasp escaping her lips. "What?"
She stared at him, gaping. "He knew!"
"Knew what, Granger?"
"Dumbledore! He knew!" Hermione was growing frantic, fingers rapidly searching for something in one of her earlier texts.
"Yes, Granger, so you said. I'm going to need you to speak English," Draco replied with more than a little annoyance in his voice.
Hermione found what it was she was looking for, thrusting the book into Draco's lap, moving closer to point out a particular line. "Read!"
Draco read aloud: "In order for Nodum de Animae to be invoked, the caster must be a third party."
Hermione stared at him, waiting for the penny to drop.
"Maybe he didn't know," Draco stated, not even believing it as he said it. The old Potter-loving, Gryffindor coot was much too cunning. Much too smart. Much to Slytherin. He knew.
Draco let out a loud breath, raking a hand through his hair. "What does this mean?"
Hermione sat back against the chair, their arms not quite touching. "He knew you weren't going to kill him."
"How?" Draco angrily asked the air in front of him. "How could he have known that if I didn't even know myself?! Are you going to tell me he's a seer too?!"
Hermione just shook her head, confused. Something wasn't matching up. "What happened that night on the astronomy tower?"
"Surely Potter told you all about it by now." Draco responded, scathingly. He didn't want to talk about it. He had been a coward. He had disappointed the Dark Lord. He had disappointed his father. That night on the tower was by far one of the worst nights of his life. There was only one night that ranked worse in his memory.
"I know his side, yes, but I think hearing it from both perspectives might be…enlightening," Hermione explained, not actually expecting Malfoy to share anything with her.
Draco contemplated her words. He didn't want to talk about it. But he also didn't want to die, not like this. Not because of some bloody ridiculous spell the dead headmaster forced on him. He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, hoping it would help slow his rapid heartbeat. It didn't.
As much as he hated to admit it, he and Granger were in this bloody mess together, for better or worse.
"It…" Draco began, struggling to find the words. "It was planned. All year. I was to kill the headmaster to prove my allegiance to the Dark Lord…"
Hermione waited for him to continue, surprised he was talking at all.
"That night…on the astronomy tower…I let in a few Death Eaters through the room of requirement, but at first it was just Dumbledore and I on the astronomy tower. I suppose Potter was there somewhere too—he always is, isn't he?—but that didn't matter. I disarmed Dumbledore, and that was it. I couldn't—" deep breath "I couldn't do it. Bellatrix kept saying I needed to. That if I didn't—" deeper breath "He would kill me, and my family. But I couldn't. Severus took over at that point, and you know the rest I'm sure," Draco rushed out, eager to end the conversation.
Hermione absorbed everything Draco told her. It matched up with Harry's version of events, only, for some reason, hearing Draco's version felt a little different. It was hard to think of Draco being remotely capable of remorse. To think of him as something other than a killer. And Bellatrix, she goaded him on that night just as much as she had in Malfoy Manor. Perhaps there was more to the Slytherin boy next to her than she originally thought.
"Um, thank you for sharing," Hermione said awkwardly, noting Draco's tense form beside her.
He nodded, staring at a book in his lap.
"So how well do you know Severus Snape?" she asked.
That got Draco's attention. "He's a very old family friend."
Hermione nodded. "And he's a death eater?"
"Yes," Draco responded. "Well…" he pondered. "There was a time when I wasn't entirely sure which side Severus was really on. He and my father go way back, it was my father who got Severus involved in the Dark Lord's inner circle to begin with. But after the first war…when I was younger…he didn't seem as dedicated as the other Death Eaters. And he at least appeared loyal to Dumbledore, but of course that was all an act."
Hermione nodded again, unsure what to make of everything. She couldn't help but think that Snape must play some role in this, she just didn't know what quite yet.
"He made the unbreakable vow," Draco continued, thinking of how the potions master had cornered him in the corridor the night of Slughorn's party.
Hermione nodded again and this time it caught Draco's attention. "You knew?"
"Um—"
"Tell me, is sticking your nose in everyone else's business a requirement of all Gryffindors?"
Hermione crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "I could ask the same thing about Slytherin!"
A scathing reply tore at Draco's throat, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. They needed to work together in this. Even if it killed them. Because if they didn't, then it would.
A firm knock at the door caused the pair to jump. "Shite," Draco hissed, pushing the books into a semblance of an organized pile. Hermione helped him, hoping Draco had been bright enough to use a silencing charm. As if reading her mind, the blonde said, "I'm not daft, I cast silencio before you even arrived."
"Draco?" Lucius Malfoys voice spoke through dark wooden door. There was another knock. "Why is this door warded?"
Fuck.
Draco took a second to make sure his face was impassive before spelling the door open and the wards down with a wave of his wand. Lucius gazed around the room suspiciously. He noted his son sitting rigidly in a chair, a tome in his lap with a stack of books resting in a mess at his feet.
"What's going on here?"
Draco kept his face calm, "Just catching up on schoolwork." Draco lifted the cover to show his father the title. It was one of the less suspicious titles: Ancient and Medieval Charms.
Lucius narrowed his eyes. He wasn't fooled. His son was up to something. "Then why did you feel compelled to ward the door?"
Draco feigned innocence. "Just practicing, Father."
His father's eyes narrowed further, if that were even possible.
Hermione stood watching from the other side of the room, unsure of how to help. "He doesn't believe you!"
Draco's eyes slid to hers for a brief second, his eyebrows lifting a fraction of an inch as if to say obviously.
"Make something up!" Hermione offered.
"I was being loud," Draco began. It wasn't a lie. "And I didn't want to disturb you."
"Hmm," Lucius considered what his son was saying, not buying it. But he was on a tight schedule and didn't have time for these games. He locked eyes with Draco, silently intruding the young man's thoughts only to find his occlumency shields firmly push him away. Interesting.
"Well, be that as it may," Lucius dismissed, regaining his posture. "Your mother and I will be consulting with Sunik again this evening, I trust you can entertain yourself in the meantime?"
Draco nodded. "Of course."
"Do not stray far," his father warned. "And no more wards in this house without my explicit consent."
Draco nodded, knowing better than to argue.
The door shut behind Lucius with a soft thud. Hermione opened her mouth to speak and Draco immediately held up a hand to shush her.
Pulling out a piece of parchment from a journal on the floor, he grabbed a quill from the side table and began writing. When finished, he held up the text for her to read. He's listening. Hermione nodded though she didn't understand. Why would Lucius listen in on his own son?
They waited in silence for a few more minutes, listening to the click click of the grandfather clock. Finally, there was the definite sound of a large door shutting. Draco got up, setting the book to the side, and peered out the window to be sure it wasn't a ruse. He watched as his parents walked all the way down the street and faded from sight.
"They're gone," he told her.
Hermione sighed in relief. "Why did you father question you?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.
"For the same reason he tried to legilimize me, he thinks I'm up to something," Draco answered, shutting the heavy curtains.
Hermione gasped. "Your father tried to read your mind?"
"Ironic, considering he's the one who taught me occlumency in the first place." Draco resettled himself in the chair, propping his feet up on an ottoman.
Hermione was still gaping at him. "But he's your father! He should trust you!"
Draco scoffed at her. "You're incredibly dimwitted and naïve if you think that paternity automatically equates to affection and trust."
Hermione let the weight of those words sink in, not fully comprehending. How could anyone's guardians not trust them? Her mind automatically went to Harry, whom she knew never got along with his relatives. But it couldn't be that bad with the Malfoys, could it? "I thought all pureblood families were close?"
"If by close you mean exclusive and superior, then yes. We don't like to mix with other…" Hermione narrowed her eyes threateningly at him and he chose his words carefully "...non-purebloods. It taints the blood," Hermione huffed in irritation but he continued anyway. "But we are not 'close' in the way you are undoubtedly thinking."
Hermione thought of her own relationship with her parents. They never understood magic, but they never let that get in the way of their love for her. Thinking of her parents made her heart clench painfully, remembering she obliviated herself from their memories. They didn't remember her.
It's for the best, she assured herself, setting her jaw.
Draco decided this would be a good time to change the steer the subject away from his personal life and back to something productive. "We've done our research," he gestured to the books. "Now what?"
Hermione met his eyes, thoughts and scenarios already tumbling through her mind at a rapid place. "Now we plan."
End Notes: Reviews make me write faster!