All of Harry Potter and anything related to it are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.
(Each title is derived from a song that, I believe, complements the overall narrative, if not the individual chapter.)
* This Chapter contains snippets of the original chapter from Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince.
Hogwarts May 1997
Draco's Point of View
I woke in the morning to a strange sensation against my hand that I couldn't place at first. Then it happened again, and my eyes widened in realisation. Little Drake was active this morning, and kicking my hand. I smiled against Hermione's neck, feeling a surge of love and wonder for our unborn son. I didn't want to wake her; she needed all the rest she could get. But then everything else that was happening in my life came crashing down on me, and the same thing that had filled me with joy a moment ago now filled me with dread.
I felt a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, my chest tightening, and my breath quickening. I attempted to calm myself, to focus on Hermione's soothing warmth and on Drake's gentle movements, cognizant of the fact that they were safe and that we were together for now. But it was hard, so hard, to keep the fear and sadness at bay. And I couldn't allow Hermione to witness it; I had to be strong for her, for both of them. She had enough worries of her own, with her pregnancy and her own preparations for the future.
She didn't require awareness of how much I was struggling or how close I was to breaking. I had to conceal it from her, from everyone. I had to pretend that everything was fine, that I was fine. But I wasn't fine. I was scared out of my mind. I was still struggling to get my Arithmancy equations to work in cadence with the runes, and my potion was proving difficult, but neither was something I could give up on.
I rolled over and focused on the ceiling, where those ludicrous stars and moon still dangled, and worked on my Occlumency shields again. Over the past fortnight, I had become better at keeping them in place outside the room and had even been more careful not to watch Hermione. Well, where anyone would observe, and I was ensuring I was not being seen anywhere outside of this room as much as I could. By the time she woke up, I was calm and able to smile at her sleepy, content face.
"Morning, beautiful," I murmured, brushing aside her unruly, curly brown locks so I could lean up and kiss her. She gave a hum of happiness at my kiss, and on one level, I loved the reaction, but my true emotions were tied tight at the moment.
She said with a grimace and her eyes still closed, "I don't even get to be awake properly before I need to go to the bathroom." She reluctantly slipped out of bed and pulled on the robe I had bought her the week before. Her stomach was getting very large now. We had also discovered the clothes didn't work in the room and came to the conclusion that it was because concealing a pregnancy was a lie.
"Don't forget your wand," I told her, and she turned back to get it, already having grabbed her little toiletry bag. "And the disillusionment spell," I added as she neared the door. She waved her arm at me, but I was confident she wouldn't forget to use it now. I didn't want her to be spotted on the way to the bathroom. Thankfully, no one else could get in there now that I had placed that spell over the entrance. "Jomny!" I summoned, and then a knock sounded on the door. "Come."
"Yes, master?" he inquired.
"Could you please bring breakfast here this morning?" I instructed him, detailing the items to bring. He returned a few minutes later, and Hermione still wasn't back. I was on the verge of concern when she came back through the door.
"Good morning, Jomny," she said brightly to my little House Elf.
"Good morning, My Lady," he said, greeting her with a smile and a bow. I made certain I was peering down at the arrangement on the table. I didn't want Hermione to realise the sincerity behind the House Elf's words; House Elves tended to be very traditional, and a wedding ceremony was not what they considered a true bonding. To them, the creation of new life was what made a bond. Hermione let him out of the door, which she was still holding ajar, before turning her attention to the table.
"What did you do?" she inquired.
"You don't have a class this morning, so I thought we would eat here," I informed her, and I helped her into her seat.
"You are trying to spoil me, Draco," she said, but she appeared happy, and that was all that mattered.
"You deserve to be spoiled, and that is why I also ordered you a single chocolate chip pancake along with your plain ones and strawberries," I told her, but she wrinkled her nose. She liked to pretend she didn't like sweets, but I was well aware she would eat it.
"What did you get?" she inquired as she speared a strawberry.
"Scrambled eggs with capsicum and sweet chilli sauce. Bacon and toast," I told her, allowing a little smirk even as I buttered a piece of toast before handing it to her.
"I hate bacon," she told me as she took the toast, but she kept glancing at my bacon.
"I'm aware, but I am beginning to suspect little Drake is a fan," I said, then lifted the lid off the tray with the extra bacon. She picked a piece up and rolled it into the middle of the chocolate chip pancake. The unusual pairing caused me to blink in surprise, questioning in my mind if it was a deliberate choice.
"Merlin! Who knew bacon and chocolate would taste so good together?" she moaned. I smiled, my emotions getting easier to access again. I was well aware I needed to keep on top of them. But if I were to completely suppress them, I would be risking a type of psychosis that I couldn't afford. I finished buttering a piece of my own toast and then poured us both glasses of pumpkin juice.
"Did you want to discuss names again this morning?" I inquired. The topic had been of great importance the night before, but she had fallen asleep halfway through the conversation. Evidently, she thought Drake wasn't a very good muggle name and was attempting to persuade me that it should be his middle name. I was grateful that her parents were allowing us to name the baby, but I had no idea it would be so hard to do.
"What about Falkor?" she suggested, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. My jaw slackened in sheer disbelief.
"You can't seriously believe that's less strange than Drake," I said, shaking my head.
"I don't, but I already suggested Michael, and for some reason you hate that," she replied, then ate some more bacon with a satisfied grin.
"It sounds dreadfully common. I guarantee there are ten muggle-born wizards with that name in the castle right now," I replied, shaking my head. I want her to select something more distinctive, more magical for our son. Not a name so ordinary that it could be attached to practically anyone.
"True," she agreed. I rose and scraped some eggs onto her plate. She cast me a glance but didn't comment; merely began to eat them and hummed her pleasure at the sweet and spicy taste.
"I like Firnen," I told her.
"That is not too bad, I suppose, but I just don't see it. Firnen Drake. My parents may have named me something unusual, but that might be a bit far for them," she replied, shaking her head. "Eat Draco," she instructed. So, in an effort to keep her content, I casually speared some eggs and consumed them, then took a bite of toast. "What about something simpler, like Jack or Joe?" she suggested, raising her eyebrows. I nearly choked on my toast and shot her a horrified glance.
"No way is my son being named either of those," I declared, utterly appalled. She laughed so hard that tears formed in her eyes, and I understood she was teasing me.
"Fine, we will think about it some more," she decided, wiping her eyes.
"What do you want to do this morning?" I inquired. The heated expression she gave me had me sitting up and paying attention. "Really? I thought you were too tired."
"That was last night, Draco. I had just climbed every staircase this castle seems to have, and I seem to be finding that just a bit more tiring at the moment," she replied with heavy irony.
"Right," I said, and then stood to take her hand.
"But I'm not done eating, and you have barely started," she protested.
"We'll eat again later," I informed her, and then pressed my lips against her incredibly soft ones. She laughed and wrapped her arms around me. I backed up until my knees were touching the bed, but I was careful not to pull her down with me. I was about to help her up onto the bed, but the smouldering expression she gave me stopped me in my tracks.
"I am still hungry and would like something now," she told me, giving a little shove to my chest. I chuckled and fell back on the mattress. I lifted my hips so she could remove the pyjama pants I had put on while she was gone. My cock sprung out fully hard and ready for her even as she knelt on the floor. I leaned back up on my elbows so I could watch her every move.
Her face was illuminated with anticipation, a grin of expectancy playing on her pretty pink lips as she met my eyes. The sight sent my heart into a frantic rhythm, and I found myself biting my lip in eagerness as I observed her. She was already having trouble bending over her belly, but I stopped worrying about that, however, when she took me into her warm, beautiful mouth. I swear, no matter what part of her my cock was in, it appeared so bloody perfect, and the sight had me breathless.
I couldn't help but pump up a little to meet her, but she had learnt a new skill that had my eyes rolling into the back of my head and my cock sliding down the back of her throat. She pulsed it back there before withdrawing painfully slowly. It was truly the most wonderous torture. She worked her tongue and mouth up and down on me, while her smooth hand worked my balls and shaft. I couldn't believe how good she had gotten at this, and then my mind went blank as I had to ride the orgasm, holding tightly to the blanket on either side of me. I felt her climb up onto the bed, and when I was able to open my eyes, I turned my head to find her beaming at me with pure joy.
"You do realise that it is my turn now," I informed her with a predator's gaze that made her squeal and spin around in an attempt to get away. I sprang up into a sitting position and pulled her back to my chest at once, and she gave a little scream that was also a laugh. I untied the robe and pulled it down, trapping her arms to her sides so I could kiss her neck. I really liked how that made her shudder. I took her heavy breasts into my hands and rolled her nipples, making her moan, and then dropped a hand to feel how wet she was. I let out a moan myself. She was dripping with sap.
"You really do want me this morning," I replied. I was astounded, still, that I had this effect on her and was incredibly turned on by it. "Lean forward," I instructed her, taking the robe the rest of the way off and throwing it onto the floor. She complied at once, and I found myself momentarily captivated by the bounty before me. "You are beautiful," I told her, and then leaned forward to lick up her centre but followed around and licked at her arsehole too.
"Draco!" she said on a shocked gasp. "I really don't think you should do that."
"Hmmm," I said, going back to kissing and sucking as best I could at her delicious dripping pussy from behind, and then licked up the back again. She made a strange noise that sounded a bit like outrage and pleasure combined. I was surprised at myself, actually. Even I questioned if this was crossing a line, yet I also felt as if I needed to claim every inch of her body, and this was merely another part of that pursuit.
"Stop?" she said, but I heard the question in it. I brought up my fingers and commenced to pump gently into her pussy and she began to moan loudly. I leaned back down and licked her as much as I could, through and around my fingers, and then I had the brilliant idea of pulsing my tongue into her arsehole. She froze.
"Would you like me to stop?" I inquired but then went right back to it, but so much slower, and I matched my fingers to the action. She took a long few seconds to respond.
"I don't know," she barely breathed out. I couldn't help but smile, because in that soft uncertainty, there wasn't a 'no.' I began to finger her harder, making certain I rubbed the nub in front at the same time while I let my tongue have free rein of her arsehole. I was shocked by how turned on I was by this and wondered if I could convince her to let me put my cock in there sometime.
Abruptly, she was crying out my name, and her channel was gripping my fingers tightly, and my cock was screaming at me to get in there. I didn't feel like denying him, and so, with a quick repositioning of myself, I shoved him deep inside. She screamed at the intrusion but pushed back hard against me, so I was certain she was alright. I pulled her body up against mine so I could hold her breasts, and she held onto my thighs as best she could while I pumped madly into her. We voiced each other's names almost simultaneously, our utterances overlapping.
"Sometimes I really love this room," I accidentally said out loud, but she appeared oblivious to my words as she continued to breathe hard. No matter how loud we were, nobody ever heard, and I could only come to the conclusion that the room was the reason. "I love you," I told her, when her breath was back. I was still holding her against my chest; my cock yet to slide out of her.
"I love you, too," she said, sounding very happy and content.
The next afternoon, Hermione got back from classes, and she was exhausted again.
"You can't keep pushing yourself so hard, Love," I told her, even as I helped her get into bed, our shoes already off and left by the door. Without a moment's hesitation, I slipped in behind her. Sleep was not on my agenda; it was her presence and her proximity that I craved. The simple act of holding her and feeling her close was a pleasure to me. Here, I could allow myself this indulgence, and it calmed me to know she was safe within my arms.
"It is essential that I keep myself fit and healthy," she disagreed sleepily.
"I am embarrassed for you, Granger," I drawled, my voice dripping with feigned seriousness. She rolled over to face me, and I smirked at her expression of annoyance. "Oh, how utterly fascinating! There's actually something that I, Draco Malfoy, am aware of, and you, surprisingly, are not," I continued, shaking my head in mock disappointment. The thrill of teasing her this way, of observing that spark of irritation in her eyes, was something I found damned sexy. I rather enjoyed teasing her this way. After all, what's life without a bit of fun? And that was something I didn't get to experience outside of this room anymore.
"Exercise is important." She attempted to convince me, her voice full of confidence as she defended climbing all the stairs again. Madam Pomphrey had offered to give her a pass for all the interconnected floo's within the castle, but she had refused, not wanting to have to explain that to her friends.
"Have you never noticed the rarity of portly witches and wizards?" I inquired, arching an eyebrow. I was genuinely curious about her lack of knowledge on this subject. I was genuinely intrigued by her apparent ignorance on the matter.
Having been raised in a pureblood family where magic was as commonplace as breathing, I had been educated from a tender age that magic, when wielded regularly and correctly, had a beneficial impact on one's vitality and endurance.
It was common knowledge to me that certain Muggle-borns, predominantly those in Gryffindor, persisted in partaking in physical exertions such as circumnavigating the lake at the most unholy hours, in a misguided effort to maintain their fitness.
"The magical population is not immune to the condition of obesity," she asserted, her brow furrowed in consternation as she fully rolled over, so we were facing each other. I took the opportunity to trace my fingers along the contours of her face and neck, which made her smile gently at me.
"Yes. Those who were already weak magically or who, for some inexplicable reason, don't use their magic often," I said, causing her frown to intensify as she pondered over something. "You and I, however, will never need to worry about that," I declared with a smug grin, making her laugh. I smiled, pleased that I had made her laugh. I loved her laugh, and her smile, and her eyes, and her hair, and every single aspect of her.
"How is it that you look cute even when you are arrogant?" she queried, her eyes sparkling with affection.
"I personally believe that it is because you have finally come to terms with the reality that I am incomparably superior to any other wizard who may be pursuing you," I told her with a smirk. I kissed her lightly on the nose, making her giggle.
"I rather doubt any other wizard is pursuing me," she replied with an adorable eyeroll. I pulled her closer, concealing my insecurities and possessiveness from her gaze. She snuggled closer, resting her head on my chest and wrapping her arm around me.
"Then why do you believe you find my arrogance cute?" I queried, truly intrigued by her response while astounded by her persistent lack of self-awareness. Hadn't I told her how many wizards in this school watched her with keen interest? One, in particular, was downright annoying in his increasing attentions towards her. She cast a glance upwards at me, a soft smile on her lips, and then pushed up to kiss me.
She leaned back, her beautiful brown eyes aglow with light, meeting mine. "Because it's part of who you are, and I love you for who you are. Because it shows your confidence, your pride, and your determination. Because it makes you human, and flawed, and real. Because it makes you Draco, and I love Draco." She grinned proudly at that, and I chuckled. I hugged her tightly and kissed her again.
"I believe you are the best thing that ever happened to me," I confessed.
"Thank you," she said and blushed, which made me chuckle again.
"You should sleep now, Love. You still appear tired," I said, touching her face gently.
"Alright. But you have to wake me up for dinner. I made a commitment to join Harry and Ron, and they actually requested my assistance with their homework," she said, sounding happy, but she was lying on my chest again and couldn't observe the scowl on my face.
"I give you my word," I murmured, relieved that the room didn't compel me to utter anything regrettable about those two buffoons. I was of the opinion that they should have been tackling their own blasted homework, but I was also acutely aware that Hermione was always incredibly happy when she spent time with them. I found that vexing.
I understood I couldn't keep her to myself, but it was hard watching her walk away with Weasley staring at her as he did more and more frequently. I was observant enough to discern that Weasley was mustering his courage to confess his feelings for her, a realisation that ignited a fierce flame of jealousy within me.
Her breathing evened out, and I pulled her tighter to me even as I drew on my Occlumency. I found myself resorting to it increasingly, as it was becoming progressively challenging to accept the inevitable.
A few days later, I got back from a bathroom trip to hear Hermione cry in excitement, "Oh Merlin, I got it!" and to witness her bouncing a little in the chair at the table.
"I thought you were resting, Love?" I queried her with a hint of a frown, feeling concerned about her health. She had come back to our room after lunch, appearing exhausted and pale. However, the smile she turned on me now was anything but tired. It was radiant and proud.
"I was, but I had a thought with my Arithmancy," she said.
"Ah," I uttered rather ineptly, and I instantly thought of my own task, which made me feel guilty. "Come lay down with me, Love," I suggested, attempting to distract her, but I should have known better. Hermione had amazing concentration, but it tended to get fixed on what she was most excited about in the moment. She was passionate and curious, always eager to learn new things and solve new problems. That was merely one of the things I loved about her.
"I was using the wrong metaphor," she told me, and that had me confused, so I went to sit opposite her. She glanced at me with a gleam in her eyes, her hand on a notebook full of numbers and runes.
"Metaphor?" I echoed.
"Yes," she said, her proud smile still in place. "I was using longitude and latitude to try to make my rune scheme work in the sequence, but I needed to use a phone number instead."
"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with what a phone number is," I told her, and I picked up her hand so I could play with her beautiful, elegant fingers.
"It's a muggle communication device that used to always be in a fixed location, but now they are starting to be able to make them mobile, and that is what made me realise my mistake," she told me. This appeared to be veering into perilous ground, so I stood quickly, walked around the table, and kissed her hard. She kissed me back as she laughed.
"You are a brilliant, clever witch, and I would very much like to take you to bed now," I told her, pulling her up into my arms.
"But I'm not tired anymore," she said, her eyes still bright with her discovery.
"Me neither," I told her, and I attempted to kiss her neck, but she sat down again before I could. I sighed, really not liking her single-mindedness at this moment.
"I was trying to link two objects together," she said, peering down at her page and so missing me freeze.
"Hermione, please don't..." I began, but she continued talking.
"At first, I was using longitude and latitude to locate the two items, but things kept disappearing and not returning. It took me so long to remember that the items I am linking are not fixed but mobile," she explained. I took a step back, my eyes closed. This part was already familiar to me. I had been attempting the same thing with my rune scheme and getting mixed and primarily negative results.
"Hermione, please stop," I uttered, but it was feeble and hushed in my dual desperations. I really didn't want to hear this from her, but I didn't want to upset her by yelling at her to make her hear me.
"Then I thought about how phone numbers work, and it all became so clear. The first part does use the latitude and longitude, much like a phone number will use a country code, but it also suffices for the prefix, which is why the scheme would work one way but not the other. The area code was the easiest; I just used the Arithmancy code for the rune Uruz to represent magic itself. As you know, Uruz is most common in its use as a symbol of strength, but it also represents the primal force of life, vitality, and endurance." I gave a feeble nod, not that she was casting her gaze in my direction.
"The last part was the hardest, but only because I needed to figure out the Arithmancy code for the individual items. But once I got that, it worked," she exclaimed with fervour, her gaze still fixated on her work, too engrossed, thank Salazar, to witness the shock on my face. I rose, collected my bag as calmly as I could, and went over to kiss the top of her head.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Love. I have… I have things I need to do," I told her, and she finally cast her gaze upon me with a frown, studying my face.
"Are you leaving?" she inquired, and somehow I managed to muster an effortless smile at her. I never wanted to leave her, but I needed to get out of here before I snapped. Employing my Occlumency was out of the question, as I was fully aware she would notice that.
"You have work to complete, and I should do the same," I told her.
"Alright," she agreed, sounding disappointed but understanding. "But kiss me again before you go."
"Will you notice this time?" I quipped, unsure of how I was maintaining this facade when a part of me was dying inside.
"I always notice when you kiss me," she replied happily, standing up and onto her toes, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me close to her. She kissed me softly and tenderly, and I wished I could make moments like this go on forever. She kissed me with love and trust, as if she had no doubts about me or us. She kissed me like she always did, and it shattered me. I cradled her face in my hands and returned her kiss as gently as I could manage. I didn't want her to feel the fear coursing through me.
"Tomorrow," I promised her. She nodded and sat down to go back to her work, but she watched me as I left the room. I managed to walk out calmly and commenced down the hall. However, as soon as I was out of sight of the room, my memory of the recent events disappeared as usual. I could tell I had emerged from our room, but right now I felt incredibly overwhelmed. Panic and fear surged through me, and I began to tremble. I needed to be far away from here before someone saw me, so I sprinted towards the stairs.
I made it up to the second floor when I heard people talking and ducked into the first bathroom door I saw. I ran straight towards the sink desperately; I felt like I couldn't breathe. I moaned, and a cry was ripped from me, echoing in the empty room.
My heart shattered into a million pieces, the jagged edges cutting deep. I stood there, bewildered, unable to comprehend the weight of what was happening. It was as if the universe had conspired against me, orchestrating a symphony of pain that echoed through my entire being. The air felt heavy, suffocating, and I struggled to catch my breath.
Why? Why now? The questions reverberated in my mind, yet there were no resolutions to be found. Only the raw ache of loss, the emptiness that threatened to consume me. It was as if the ground had given way beneath my feet, leaving me suspended in a void of despair.
I had no idea what had transpired, but it didn't matter. The devastation was all-encompassing—a storm that raged within me. I was engulfed by a sense of dread, and I couldn't figure out why it was happening but prayed it wasn't Hermione rejecting me once again.
I had recently resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't do it; I couldn't fix that damned Vanishing Cabinet. This acceptance had been strangely liberating. I was going to suggest to Hermione that we run away, both leave the country, even with her parents if she wanted, which I was certain she would. We would have been together, and I would have been absolved of any guilt if my parents failed to escape the Dark Lord. I had done all I could, but the solution remained elusive.
A chilling thought crossed my mind. Had I shared my plan with Hermione only for her to say no? Perhaps she had reminded me of everything I would be sacrificing. I was certain that would be more likely from the witch I had known for years and now understood even more because of all my notes. I became convinced that she reminded me that I couldn't leave my mother behind, that I couldn't leave my mother to die if there was even a sliver of hope I could save her. Even if that meant sacrificing my love for Hermione. And I had no doubt she was selfless enough that she wouldn't want me to choose between them.
The thought of having to choose was unbearable. I wanted everything! There was a time I would have been confident I could have anything I wanted, but now it felt as if I was sacrificing too much for so little gain.
I could picture Hermione's face in my mind, and it was a real memory of a smile. One I never thought I would be lucky enough to observe directed at me, but I had gone to the library a few days before, and she had smiled at me with love and trust in her eyes, and it had been the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Now it felt like another cruel joke.
I screamed in fury at my reflection and punched the mirror, shattering it at once. Glass shards flew everywhere, cutting my hand and face. Tears streamed down my face as I cried hard in despair. I felt like I was losing everything all at once. No matter what I did, I would lose somebody. And I didn't want to choose!
"What are you doing in my bathroom? Only girls are supposed to be in here. Why are boys always coming in here?" Moaning Myrtle demanded, but I wasn't listening to her.
"The Dark Lord is going to kill them," I said desperately, envisioning my mother's kind, loving face as she peered back at me from memories of my childhood.
"What?" Myrtle inquired, shocked out of her ranting. She floated closer to me, curious and concerned. "Who is going to kill who? What are you talking about?"
"He is going to make me kill for him," I said, realising I was really going to have to do it. I was in a state of shock and uncontrollable grief. I felt numb and cold, as if a part of me had already died.
"I… What…" Myrtle was mumbling and getting distressed. She stared at me with pity and fear in her eyes. "You don't mean… You don't mean him, do you? The one who killed me? The one who killed so many others?" She shuddered and whimpered. "You can't do that. You can't join him. He's evil. He's a monster." She sounded terrified, but I was too focused on my own pain to really listen to her.
"I have no idea what my aunt plans to do when she gets here, but I'm scared people will die," I said, trembling with fear and despair. My hands clung to the edges of the sink, my head bowed in dread at the thought of a Death Eater like my aunt entering the school, and it would be entirely my fault. Dread surged through me at the danger that would put Hermione in, yet I couldn't discern an escape from this predicament.
"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle from over by a toilet cubicle. "Don't… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"
"No one can help me," I interrupted her, another wave of despair crashing over me as I saw the memory of Hermione's smiling face again, my whole body shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… I won't… but I have to do it soon… he says he'll kill me…" I was aware I wasn't finishing sentences, but nothing was making sense in my mind right now. I cried harder, my heart splintering further, cutting me deeper. I attempted to regain control, taking a few gasping breaths, and lifted my gaze to the shattered mirror. Standing towards the back of the bathroom was Harry Potter staring at me, and I acted on instinct.
"Flipendo!" I shouted, spinning around and pointing my wand at Potter's chest. The Knockback Jinx hit him with a powerful force, sending him flying into a wall. He crashed into the tiles, making jagged and sharp cracks where his body hit. But Potter had already been in the process of casting 'Confringo' at me. I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the spell as it exploded where I had been standing mere moments ago. The sink erupted in a shower of water and debris, the force of the explosion sending a sharp pain searing through my arm. I gritted my teeth, pushing the pain to the back of my mind even as I got back on my feet.
"Stupefy!" Potter's voice rang out, his wand pointed directly at me. The Stunning Spell hurtled towards me with a red bolt of light. Once again, I had to dodge out of the way of the spell, rounding the group of sinks. Potter was waiting for me when I came around to face him, and we both cried out 'Expelliarmus' in unison. I felt a tug at my wand, but I kept my grip and aimed once more.
"Incendio!" I shouted, observing Potter's eyes widen as he bellowed, "Protego." I grinned in triumph, believing I had him on the defensive as my flame hit his shield. The fire crackled and burned; his shield started to crack, but the spell did not break through. "Confringo!" I roared, my voice echoing off the cold tiled walls. Potter's mutter of 'Oh shit' was almost drowned out by the sound of the blasting curse. He dove out of the way in the nick of time, his shield dissipating as he did so. Tiles shattered on the wall behind him, and a hole was blown in the wall. The satisfaction I felt was almost palpable.
We threw spells, curses, and hexes at each other in rapid sequence, each vying for dominance in the duel. I was dimly aware of Myrtle squealing and yelling in fear as she flew around the bathroom. A bin exploded next to Potter with a loud bang from my next 'Confringo,' and I dove to one side as he fired another 'Stupefy' at me. I barely avoided it and felt a blast of hot air as it hit a pipe behind me.
I was desperate for the duel to be over, to be done with Potter and his constant interference, and I greatly wanted to escape from this nightmare. I uttered a spell that I never thought I would use, but desperation had me reaching into all the hatred I had ever felt for Harry Potter, even though I was aware that Hermione would be furious with me. I hoped to catch him off guard when I sent the Unforgiveable Curse, a blazing streak of red light heading right at him. But Potter was unexpectedly quicker on the mark than me, and he shouted 'Sectumsempra' and the unknown curse hit me hard.
A sharp pain cut through my face and chest, as if a knife had sliced me open. I gasped, feeling blood gushing out of my wounds. I staggered back and then crumpled to the floor, my hand clutching my chest. I realised I couldn't breathe. Dizziness was consuming me, and a sob escaped me as Hermione's face swam into my clouded mind for a third time in as many minutes. I was vaguely aware of Potter looming over me, but all I heard was white noise in my ears.
'You're dying', my mind whispered. I felt tears falling from my eyes, and a fresh wave of sorrow washed over me at the realisation that I wouldn't learn my son's name. And then Severus was beside me, and I could breathe again, and with the air came pain. If I hadn't felt the Cruciatus Curse before, I believe I would have thought this was the worst thing I had ever felt.
It was then that my hearing switched back on. I could hear Moaning Myrtle screaming about murder, and with a feeling of disgust at the thought of being trapped here with that ghost, I managed to use my Occlumency. I calmed myself and slowed my heartbeat, which also slowed the bleeding. I was aware Severus was also doing his best to save me, and I had never felt such gratitude towards my godfather.
Somehow, he got me walking, staggering to the hospital wing with his arm around me. I saw this as a positive, that I was no longer dying, but I was still in considerable pain and shock. I found myself questioning what would happen next, the reactions it would incite, and how Hermione would feel. I hoped she would forgive me.
Hermione's Point of View
It was so hard to look calm as Harry told us, sounding miserable and scared, about what had happened with Draco in the bathroom. I could see the scratches and bruises still healing on his face, the result of the potions Madam Pomphrey had administered to him while he was in Professor Dumbledore's office. His clothes were still filthy and damp, stained with blood and dirt, and he looked exhausted and pale. I could feel my heart beating hard, and I felt terribly torn.
I loved Draco with a desperation that terrified me, yet still not able to remember what happened in that room. But I knew myself, and I would never lie to myself. My journal told me so much now of us talking, laughing, kissing, making love. And I had a huge piece of evidence to prove that last bit hidden under my magical clothes. He had somehow claimed a huge chunk of my heart, even though we had rarely even spoken outside of the room this year, as far as I could remember. It was all terribly confusing.
What made it worse was that I loved Harry too, and he was hurting. He was my best friend, my brother. He needed me too. He needed me to comfort him, to reassure him, to tell him that it was an accident, that it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't a monster. But yet more than anything, I wanted to get to the infirmary and check on Draco. I knew he would be alone. He didn't talk to anyone anymore whom he once considered a friend, and I had no idea why.
I did know, thanks to a note in my journal, that I had been worried about Draco when he left our room today. It wasn't an uncommon notation, but it was the urgency in my handwriting that caught my attention. It was as if I had felt something more than normal was wrong today.
I felt torn between two people who meant the world to me. Two people who hated each other. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to fix this. So, I just sat there, silent and panicky, trying to listen to Harry's rambling, tear-filled apology, that I knew wasn't really directed at the person who deserved it, while my mind was racing with thoughts of Draco. Draco, who was lying in a hospital bed, bleeding and broken, because of a stupid war that we all should have been too young to be involved in. I stood suddenly, feeling quite sick, and swaying, I had to catch myself on the arm of the couch.
"You alright, Mi'?" Ron asked with sudden concern.
"Please don't hate me, Hermione," Harry cried, thinking the look on my face was more about what he had been saying. He was almost right. "I know you warned me not to use those spells. That spells graffitied in the corners of potions books were not to be trusted. I'm so sorry, Mione. I promise, if you'll just forgive me, I'll listen to you all the time from now on."
"I don't hate you, Harry," I said, but even I heard the anger in it. The room was starting to spin, and I sat back down. Cold sweat was gathering on my brow.
"Merlin! You're really sick," Ron exclaimed. He looked around frantically and then said, "Hold on, I'll get McGonagall." And then he raced off, leaving me alone with Harry. I thought about protesting, but I was shaking and cold, and my vision had become a tunnel surrounded by fog. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I felt Harry take my hand and squeeze it gently.
"Mi', are you okay?" Harry asked, worry in his voice.
"Yes," I managed, but my mouth was feeling dry.
"What is happening here?" Professor McGonagall's firm, worried voice asked suddenly, and I heard every conversation behind us in the room cease. I knew everyone was looking at me now and wondering what the latest drama was occurring within the Gryffindor common room.
"She's sick." I heard Ron state the obvious.
"I can see that, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall stated at his side. "Miss Granger? Can you hear me?" Professor McGonagall asked me, sitting down next to me on the couch. I didn't feel well enough to speak, so just nodded. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?" she asked, her voice softening with concern even as her hand touched my clammy brow. Instantly, Harry and Ron were protesting.
"Malfoy is there!" Harry stated, heatedly. "He watches her, and I don't trust him alone with her."
Ron was saying at the same time, "No! He's always hated Hermione for being a Muggle-born! He is always calling her a mud-blood! He might hex her or something." My guilt intensified to hear their worry for me, but I was also a bit indignant on Draco's behalf, which I knew was crazy. Everything they said should have been true, and yet I knew it wasn't. Not now.
"And don't think I don't know why, Harry Potter," she said angrily at him. "But I can assure you both that Madam Pomphrey is more than capable of making sure her patients are safe, even from each other. Miss Granger, do you think you can walk?" I thought about that for a moment, but couldn't even convince my eyes to open. I shook my head. "Very well, I will levitate you. Please don't fight it."
"Alright," I managed to get out on a breathy whisper.
"Can't you just fix her here?" Ron demanded.
"I am not a medi-witch, Mr. Weasley, nor do I pretend to be," she told him with annoyance.
"We will see you soon, Mi'," Harry said in a tone that sounded like it would be very soon.
"You will do no such thing, Harry Potter. Not unless you want an audience with the headmaster tonight explaining why I am expelling you. If you were any other student, you would have been expelled already for the stunt you pulled today," she told him with fury in her voice. Tears pooled around my eyes, and I couldn't move to wipe them away.
"Don't worry, Mione," Ron said from close to my side. "We'll come see you in the morning."
"Alright," I managed to whisper. I was concerned, though, when we turned towards her office. "Where are we going?" I managed to get out.
"My office has a Floo. It will be quicker, and the whole school won't see you this way," she said as she continued on and reached the Floo.
"Please stop," I said with a bit of desperation.
"What is it, Miss Granger?" She asked, looking down at me with a handful of Floo powder in her hand. I hadn't realised I'd opened my eyes until this moment, but my desperation had brightened my vision and voice for the moment.
"Could we please just go the long way?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't question it.
"I have a lot to do today, Miss Granger, and do not have the time to be traipsing all over the school. Either give me a good reason or we are going through the Floo," she said sternly.
"I'm pregnant," I said, refusing to sound ashamed. She stood looking at me, her black hair pulled back in a tight bun and pursing her lips. I couldn't read the expression in her green eyes, and then she turned and threw the powder into the fire.
"Floo travel is perfectly safe for pregnant witches," she stated, and then took us both through, calling, "infirmary." She placed me on a bed, spoke with Madam Pomphrey, and left without another word to me.
"Miss Granger, what am I to do with you?" The medi-witch said as she fussed over me. She checked my pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, and then cast a few diagnostic spells over my belly. "I have told you to keep yourself calm," she scolded gently, and handed me a Calming Draught she picked up from a side table. I took it at once.
"You know how stressful situations can affect your baby." She gave me a stern look, but there was also a hint of concern in her eyes. "You need to take better care of yourself, dear. You are not just responsible for your own life anymore." I looked to my left and saw Draco sleeping in a bed a few beds up and across from me. His face was turned towards me, and I could see a livid red scar on his face and down his neck that disappeared into a hospital shirt. I gasped at the sight.
"I see Mr. Potter has told you of his day," Madam Pomphrey said with disapproval, and I looked up at her with tears in my eyes.
"Will he be alright?" I asked, and her face softened at me.
"He will be fine, thanks to Severus. Now, I am going to give you some Dreamless Sleep Potion; and do not think to argue. You will be here for the next few days until I can trust you to keep calm. I am sure you can have your friends bring you something to occupy your time," she said in her gentle but stern way.
"Alright," I agreed. I really wanted to be asleep and not have to think for a while.
"Good. Now, do you think you could make it to the bathroom if I help you? You can change out of your clothes in there, or shall I just do it here with magic?" she asked.
"I'd like to go to the bathroom," I agreed, and then noticed what else she had said. "I can't change my clothes; I can't have people know."
"Please calm yourself, Miss Granger. I have a gown that will hide you," she explained as she helped me up.
"Thank you," I told her, and she nodded.
I woke hours later to see Draco looking at me in the dark from his own bed. In the dark, I could just make out the wards around our beds.
"You can't worry about me, Granger. You can't make yourself sick like this," he whispered into the dark room.
"I can't be sure, of course, but I suspect that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say," I whispered back with a touch of heat, ignoring the way he was trying to distance himself with the use of my last name. He sighed and shifted in his bed, making the sheets rustle.
"Your best friend attempted to kill me, and I attempted to curse him," he said, as if he thought the details would make me see sense. Hearing the defeated sound annoyed me, but the baby moved a bit, as though he recognised his father's voice even from a distance. I rubbed my belly, that was disturbingly flat in this night dress. I always found it strange how the clothes hid my pregnancy, even though I was glad for it. I closed my eyes and breathed to calm myself.
"I heard all about it, and I am furious with both of you," I said in a whisper that didn't sound angry at all, but that was only because I didn't want to cause Little Drake distress, and then wondered when I had started calling him that in my mind. I opened my eyes again, and turned to see him still watching me. "I wish you understood how important you have become to me. I… there is so much confusion. I feel insane, but I know, somehow, I love you." And still, he just watched me. "But Draco, I love Harry too. He is my brother in all but blood. It would kill me to lose him."
"And me?" He whispered back. The baby gave a huge kick, as if responding to the spike of panic that entered my heart. It was so hard it bowed my belly into the air, and Draco surged into a sitting position that had an alarm go off. Just a few seconds later, Madam Pomphrey came bustling in, in a dressing gown and looking harassed.
"Lay down this instant, Mr. Malfoy," she yelled at him in a whisper, thinking I was still asleep.
"But… but…" he was mumbling, but the older medi-witch was paying him no attention and pushed him back down.
"Are you trying to undo all the good work of Professor Snape and myself? Really, Mr. Malfoy, your liver is barely healed; you are very lucky to be alive," she said; and then I gave a cry of pain as I got a spike in my back and felt a wave of nausea and dizziness. She left Draco and rushed over to me.
"Really, Miss Granger, you are going too far; what did I say about remaining calm?" she said as she waved her wand over me and clear worry in her blue eyes. She then turned and raced to a cupboard, came back with a soft pink potion that looked like a soft drink. "Drink all of this," she said, and put it to my lips without giving me a moment to think about it; it tasted like sunshine and serenity, and the pain eased at once, and I got very sleepy. "Sleep now, and we will talk tomorrow," she said. I nodded and turned my head to see Draco still watching me with wide-frightened eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said into the room, but I was asleep before I heard if Madam Pomphrey answered him.
The next day, I had quite a few visitors, and Draco had a couple too. His mother arrived while I was still asleep, but they were having a whispered argument that woke me.
"Draco, I can't just abandon him there," Narcissa's voice was soft, almost a lullaby. "I'm aware you're upset with him now, but one day you'll understand."
Draco's response was a soft growl, his words sharp and biting. "Don't speak to me as if I am a child, Mother, and keep your voice down. We are not alone here."
"I'm aware, Darling," Narcissa replied, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it resonated in the cavernous room. "But you need to understand..."
"Enough!" Draco cut her off, his voice icy. "If you can't see reason, then leave. As you can observe, I'm still alive... for now." I whimpered out loud without meaning to, and he cut himself off. Madam Pomphrey had heard me too and came to give me some more of that pink potion, and I was back asleep in seconds.
When I woke next, it was to see Luna sitting next to me, but she was humming a song and knitting socks.
"Hello," I said softly with a smile.
"I just hate how cold my feet get in the hospital wing. I offered to make Mr. Malfoy over there a pair of socks, but he has claimed he is allergic to my wool." I looked over at him when she motioned with her hand, but he had his back to me, so I didn't know if he was awake or not. "Would you like some?" she asked, not noticing.
"I would love some," I told her, and she smiled, her silvery eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Good thing, I brought the green," she said oddly.
"Green?" I asked.
"Hmmm, well, you are not a fan of purple, and that is the only other colour I have at the moment. Oh, unless you prefer orange?" she asked.
"Green is perfect," I told her, not wanting her to start over.
"Your Wrackspurts turn green when you get fuzziest," she told me, and then looked up at me with a smile. "I tend to be fuzziest when I am happy too."
"I didn't know they had colours," I told her.
"Oh yes. They are quite in tune with emotions, but everyone's are different." Then she leaned towards me and whispered softly, "Take Mr. Malfoy, for instance. Right now, his are red and yellow with guilt and worry." I glanced over at him, but of course could see nothing that would make her think so. She stayed and chatted for a little while, never asking me questions about what was wrong, but left when Madam Pomphrey came over to check on me. Luna promised to have the socks to me tonight.
Madam Pomphrey put up a silencing ward so we would have privacy, and it was a good thing too, because Gregory Goyle came in and sat by Draco just as Luna was leaving.
"Miss Granger," Madam Pomphrey said softly, her grey hair neatly coiled on her head. "I have had to share some of what happened last night with Professor Dumbledore. I am sure you do not realise this, but you put yourself and your baby in grave danger last night; labour tried to start, and your baby is much too young for that. I really think you should consider going home. You need as little stress as you can get at the moment." I was shocked by all of that, but I knew going home wasn't an option for me at the moment either.
"I'll try to come up with something with Professor Dumbledore; I promise to try not to get so worked up," I told her, and she sighed.
"It would help if your friends would keep out of trouble. Perhaps if you told them?" she suggested, but I shook my head at once. "Very well, Miss Granger. Take this Calming Draught," she said, picking up the blue potion that had been sitting on the bedside table.
"I'm calm," I said with confusion.
"Your blood pressure is still a little high, and I would prefer it not to be," she said, looking put-out that I had argued. I took the potion, and she nodded. "Now lie there and rest," she said, as if I had anything else to do. She dispelled the privacy charm and walked away. I looked over and saw that Goyle was sitting in a chair next to Draco's bed, but neither was speaking or even looking at the other. They stayed that way until Professor Snape came in. Professor Snape looked at me curiously, and Goyle took that moment to decide to leave. Professor Snape also put up a privacy charm, but I was distracted by Ginny's arrival.
"Well, you don't look sick. According to my brother, though, you should be at death's door," she said and handed me a book, a paperback that I knew she had taken from her mother. I grimaced at the suggestive cover, and Ginny laughed. "I knew you would do that, but I was told by McGonagall that I couldn't bring you any schoolbooks today." I frowned further at that. "So, can you tell me what you are dying of?" she joked, and I smiled at her.
"I'm sure if I were dying, it would be something vile, considering all the Calming Draughts that Madam Pomphrey is giving me," I replied.
"So you really are sick?" she asked, surprised.
"Just stressed," I told her.
"You and Percy," she said, with an exasperated shake of her head. Her red hair flashed in the sunlight from the windows. "It makes me glad I am not a brainiac." I rolled my eyes at her.
"You are not exactly failing your grades, though, I noticed."
"Don't tell anyone, but I cheat," she told me, and I laughed loudly. She stayed half an hour, making me laugh, until Madam Pomphrey shooed her away, saying I needed rest. I was beginning to think she meant bored.
Harry and Ron came in after lunch and kept aiming distrustful stares at Draco's back. I was glad when Madam Pomphrey asked them to leave after ten minutes. Harry barely spoke; just gave a mixture of angry and guilty glances towards Draco and worried ones at me. Ron offered to play chess with me even though he knew how I felt about that, and to make it worse, he gave me a bag of lavender bath salts that almost made me sick. Thankfully, Madam Pomphrey also took them away after the boys were gone.
I had been dozing when I heard the chair scraping against the floor beside me. I opened my eyes to see Hagrid sitting precariously on the too-small chair, but couldn't help but smile at seeing the gentle giant. He hadn't been too happy with any of us this year when we hadn't taken his class again.
"Sorry, Hermione, did I wake yeh?" he said in a low rumble, his black eyes full of concern. "I jus' wanted to see how yeh were doin'. Gave me a right fright when Ron told me what ha'pened." He reached out and gently patted my hand with his enormous one. "Seems all o' Gryffindor an' most the rest o' the school are talkin 'bout either yeh or Malfoy," he told me, then turned to look in Draco's direction. He was reading and not paying the least attention to us. "How have yeh bin? Yeh know, with 'im?" he asked in what was supposed to be a whisper but was far from one.
"I will be fine and D… Malfoy has not bothered me at all," I said in a whisper, but I knew it still carried in the quiet room.
"Tha's good," Hagrid said, then started to dig in his pockets. "I have summat for yeh here, always cheers me up when I feel sick." And then he slapped a bladder of some liquid down onto the bed next to me.
"Thank you, Hagrid, but what is it?" I asked, sitting up a bit. He leaned forward to fluff the pillow behind me, and the chair squealed in protest.
"Mooncalf milk o' course. I always heat some up when I am feelin under the weather. Fixes me right up an' after a good night sleep I am right as rain," he told me with a grin.
"Thank you," I repeated, and I put the bladder on the bedside table.
"Yeh'll be alright," he assured me. He then started to regale me with stories from his class until he had to leave to tend to some creature he said was hiding in his pumpkin patch. Draco finally turned to look this way when Hagrid was heading out the door, our eyes meeting for a second, but before I could say something, Madam Pomphrey was back. She did more scans and seemed much happier with the results.
"I'll take this," she said, picking up the bladder. "I'll bring you some before you go to sleep tonight."
"Alright," I agreed. There really was nothing else to do. Being bored, I started the romance novel Ginny had brought me, but it was tedious in its plot, and the characters seemed one-dimensional and shallow to me. It was about a witch and a vampire who fell in love despite their differences and faced many dangers and obstacles. It was full of clichés and stereotypes, and the dialogue was cringeworthy. With frustration, I threw the book down onto the end of the bed. I heard Draco chuckle softly, and I gave a little grin directed towards the ceiling. There was no point looking over at him; he was most likely still not looking at me, but it was nice to hear his laugh.
Boredom had me fall asleep again, and I woke to the soft murmuring of voices again. I turned my head to see Professor Dumbledore trying, unsuccessfully, to engage Draco in conversation. Draco wasn't saying nothing, but he wasn't talkative either, and when his eyes met mine, Professor Dumbledore turned to look at me. Professor Dumbledore gave me a smile and stood up.
"Feel better, Draco," he said. Draco nodded but turned his head away from me again. Professor Dumbledore came over to me, waving his wand to create a privacy ward around us. "How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" he asked in a gentle voice.
"Incredibly bored," I huffed. "Madam Pomphrey won't let me do anything besides use the bathroom." He gave a little smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Boredom can be good for us at times, but I too find it hard to abide," he said. "Now, I have something serious to discuss with you, but I promise it is nothing to be alarmed about."
"Alright," I replied, feeling a surge of trepidation.
"I understand that you still have not told your friends of your condition, and Harry has informed me that your plans for later in the year have not changed. Is this true?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, and I felt a rush of guilt and sadness directed at my baby. My hand went to my concealed belly, and Professor Dumbledore followed the gesture before looking back at my face with compassion.
"There would be no shame in staying behind, Miss Granger," he said. "I am giving all the tools I can to try prepare him…"
"Yes, but you won't be around to help him, will you?" I said, interrupting him and being as candid as he; and tears welled in my eyes. He sat back in surprise. I blinked, and a single tear escaped that I quickly dashed away. "Your hand, it is getting worse," I said sadly.
"You truly are remarkably observant, Miss Granger," he told me. "Yes, I am afraid so. Severus is doing all he can, of course, but I fear that I have at most a year left."
"But you will be far too sick long before then to be of true help to him," I said again, unable to stop myself. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"I am trying to compile as much information as I can for him," he said. "But it is true. It will be up to Harry to figure this all out. I will also reiterate that it is perfectly acceptable for you to sit this one out… as the saying goes."
"Could you do that?" I asked him with a surprising strength. "If it was your family? People you loved? People who relied on you? Could you abandon them? I hate the thought of giving up this baby, but he will be safe. He will be with my parents. Can you promise me that Harry and Ron and everyone else I care about will be safe if I don't go with them?"
He looked at me with a mixture of admiration and sorrow. "I can't guarantee that anyone will be safe, Miss Granger," he said softly.
"Hermione," I insisted with a sigh.
"Very well. You are right, Hermione, on all accounts, but I have also never been put into your position," he told me frankly.
"I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to any one of them," I said, looking into his kind, compassionate blue eyes. "I know this baby is going to be safe, but everyone else…" I shook my head. "I know that we have always worked better together. Been safer together."
He nodded, understanding. He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "You are a very brave and loyal young woman, Hermione," he said. "And I am very proud of you."
"Would you think less of me if I said I didn't want to be brave?" I asked, and my voice broke on a sob. I turned my head, quickly dashed the tears again, and regained my calm.
"On the contrary, I would think more of you," he said, his voice gentle and soothing. "What you are sacrificing for this war is no small thing, and a decision I doubt many would face with the same aplomb and maturity as you." I didn't reply as he handed me a handkerchief; I dabbed at my eyes with it.
"Let me now address the matter that I originally intended to discuss with you. Both Madam Pomphrey and Professor McGonagall have expressed a strong wish to have you sent home for the sake of your health and well-being." I turned my eyes on him in panic and hurt, but he raised a hand as if to silence any words. "I have assured them both that you need to remain here for a while longer, though I myself am not certain that is true. I have every confidence you could learn and prepare just as well at home." He gave me a slightly hopeful look, but I shook my head.
"I want to stay here," I said, my strength coming back.
"As I guessed you would. I took the liberty of speaking to all your teachers, and they have agreed to let you sit all your exams within the next two weeks. I didn't explain further than you being unwell and will perhaps need to go home at a date before school has completed for the year. That will leave you free to do independent study to prepare for the adventures and challenges ahead," he explained, his voice calm and reassuring.
"Thank you," I breathed with renewed hope.
"Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall has expressed her worry about you being in the dorms. She is of the opinion that the seventh floor is much too far for someone with your condition to be traipsing," he told me kindly, but I saw through it. I knew Professor McGonagall was disappointed in me. "So, it seems to me that we need to find you somewhere else to stay. There are rooms attached to the hospital wing you could use. Unless you have a suggestion already?" He asked me as if he suspected or knew the truth. I looked at him guiltily, biting my lip, but nodded. I refused to be a coward now.
"I have been using a room on the first floor as a private study; I found it easier than being in the dorm. I don't mean to be rude to Lavender and Parvati, but they do have a tendency to gossip and giggle about the latest news and rumours, which is quite distracting when I am trying to focus on my homework or read a book," I told him, hoping he would understand my initial need.
"I see," he said with a puzzled frown, as if he had no idea where I could mean, but then shook his head as if it were of no importance. "You may, of course, continue to use it if you are comfortable staying so close to the dungeons, that is?" he said in a polite questioning tone. I gave a single nod, and he continued.
"I will, of course, let the House Elves know to be of assistance in setting up the room further if you require it. Also, I see how upset you are by a perceived slight by Professor McGonagall. I can tell you that while she is disappointed, she will still be there for you if you need her. She has also made it quite clear that you may visit or even stay in your dorm if you wish, regardless of her worry about you climbing the stairs." I had to dab at my eyes again. Professor McGonagall being upset and disappointed in me was more upsetting to me than anyone else. She had truly been a mentor to me over the years.
"Another item she reminded me of, and I must admit to being ashamed not to remember the rule myself, but I have to ask you to turn in your prefect badge," he said with a touch of embarrassment.
"I understand, sir. It will be a relief, to be honest," I said, with only a touch of hurt that stemmed from letting him down.
"You will be fine, Hermione," Professor Dumbledore said, and he patted my hand, unknowingly repeating Hagrid's words from earlier.
I had hoped that Draco would talk to me again that night, but after Madam Pomphrey had me drink some of the mooncalf milk that Hagrid had brought, which had been surprisingly sweet, she had then forced a Dreamless Sleep Potion on me with a stern eye.
When I woke in the morning, Draco was already dressed and preparing to leave. He walked towards the doors, and I wondered if he was going to completely ignore me again, but he paused at the end of my bed. He put his hand to the ward keeping us separated, and then finally looked at me. 'I love you,' he mouthed, making me smile. I was about to respond when Madam Pomphrey came out of her office, and I turned my head so she wouldn't see my face.
"I said you may leave, Mr. Malfoy," she told him with disapproval. He dropped his hand and walked out the doors without looking back. Half an hour later, I was eating breakfast, and Jomny appeared, bowing to me. I smiled widely at the little House Elf, happy to see him.
"Jomny's master instructed him to bring you these," he said, producing a vase with pink and red roses and a magical children's book with a leather cover and golden letters. "It was his favourite as a child," Jomny told me before he popped away.
I looked at the cover and saw written, 'The Legend of Prince Little Fire.' The blurb inside the back cover said, 'The Legend of Prince Little Fire is a mythological story that takes you on an epic journey of courage, faith, and destiny. In a world plagued by darkness and evil, a young Prince named Little Fire is chosen by the gods to wield a sacred fire that can restore the balance of light and life. Along the way, he must overcome various trials and enemies, such as the fearsome dragon Zalazar, the cunning witch Zara, and the ruthless warlock Zane. He must also discover the secrets of his past and the true meaning of his name. Will he be able to fulfil his destiny and save the world? Find out in this thrilling and inspiring tale of adventure, magic, and heroism.'
I opened the first page, and inside, Draco had written, 'Aiden means little fire.' A smile crossed my face. I loved it, and I knew my parents would too. My parents' weren't overly religious people, but they do love history, even religious history. I knew that they both had really liked the story of Aiden of Lindisfarne, a sainted Irish monk.
"Aiden Drake," I whispered, and I took the kicking in my belly to be agreement.
Author's notes: - ForsakenKalika, Whit96 and ARandomGirlInRavenclaw. Thank you for your continued support.