Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: I'm sorry to say that in a week's time, I will be headed off to Huntsville, Alabama for two weeks for Aviation Camp, and then 6 hours after I return on the 29th, I leave for North Carolina for a week. Needless to say, I won't be updating for a while, but I promise to brainstorm and start again as soon as I get back! I'll try to get Chapter Nineteen up before I go, but no promises. Have a safe and wonderful summer, and keep reviewing! You guys rock my world!
Chapter Eighteen
The Spell Caster
Hermione stared intently through the iron bars that served as their singular window to the outside world, watching as the guard retreated from their cell. Draco sat in a corner, watching Hermione with as much intensity as she was watching the guard. Hermione had ordered him to be completely silent for the next five minutes, and as he was a spy, silent was something he excelled at being. He watched in confusion as she turned her ear to the door, as if listening for a faint noise. Slowly, a satisfied smile spread over her face. She stood and turned to face Draco, and he took in her latest appearance.
They had been imprisoned together for at least a week, and when two people are confined to closed quarters for an extended period of time, they begin to learn things about each other that they had never before known. Draco had known beforehand that Mrs. Potter had an amazingly toned midriff, courtesy of her countless lessons in combat. But in their week together, he had begun to notice that Hermione's stomach had acquired a bit of a curve to it. He remembered Ginny being pregnant with the twins three--almost four, now--years ago, and he would bet his wand that she didn't begin to show after only a week or two, for Harry and Hermione hadn't even been married for a month. Granted, Draco had an inkling that they hadn't waited until they were married, but still...something about Hermione's pregnancy didn't seem right, didn't seem...possible. When the guards had noticed Hermione's morning sickness and belly bulge, they had interrogated her, and she had admitted that she was with child. They had bought the story, but Draco was an expert at identifying lies as well as telling them. Hermione did not have him convinced.
"Am I allowed to speak now?" He asked dryly, his mind still stuck on his suspicions of what she was up to. Hermione nodded. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about, then?"
She beamed and began to pace. Her voice was quiet but excited as she explained. "I placed a Charm on him that allows me to hear whatever's going on wherever he goes. All he has to do is set foot in a room once, and I'll know what everyone is saying for at least six hours after he leaves."
"That's some pretty powerful magic," Draco said softly, raising his eyebrows slightly to give off the impression that he was either impressed or skeptical. Hermione couldn't tell which. She glanced at the look on his face, and the smile slowly evaporated from her face. Her hands wandered to her swollen stomach and she locked hesitant eyes with her cellmate.
"Yes, well, I found a lot of handy things like that in books in the library...and since the War began, I figured that a couple of them would be useful..."
"But a Charm that doesn't take the use of a word or a wand?" Draco got to his feet and strode over to Hermione, whose eyes were darting back and forth nervously as she searched his face. "I knew you were powerful, but I apparently underestimated you." He glanced down at her stomach, then back into her large brown eyes. "Why didn't you tell Harry you were pregnant? You must've known for at least two months now. Why didn't you say anything?"
Hermione's lips parted and Draco watched as the color slowly drained from her face. He had struck a nerve, he knew it. She looked away from him, her eyes searching the cold stone floor for answers. When she didn't find them, she looked back to Draco. She took a deep breath as she began to reach into her robes. Draco made sure that his iron hold on her eyes never wavered. She held her hands out, palm up, and bowed her head. She knew she shouldn't indulge him with the information she was about to give, but she had no other choice. If she didn't, he would figure it out on his own, and they were each other's only allies at the moment.
"I...haven't been...completely honest with you...anyone, for that matter," She said quietly, slowly, as she looked at her empty upturned hands. She felt his steely gray eyes shift to her hands. With another deep breath, she closed her eyes and gently coaxed it to reappear in her palms. Hermione felt her hands sink slightly from the return of the familiar weight of the object. Opening her eyes, she gazed fondly down at the elegant ebony wand, then looked back to Draco. He was still staring at the newly appeared wand, brow furrowed and mouth drawn. Bemused, he met Hermione's gaze. She smirked wryly.
"Meet my not-so-mild-mannered alter ego."
"What does it mean?" Draco couldn't make himself even begin to understand what was going on here. Apparently, he had been wrong about Hermione. Very, very wrong.
"I'm the Spell Caster, Draco."
~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, Draco sat cross-legged on the floor, chin in his hands, staring up at Hermione as she paced their cell. She twirled her unusual wand absently between her fingers, not making eye contact with Draco as he took in all she had told him. After all this time, the Spell Caster had been literally standing right in front of them.
"The wand gives me incredible powers," she had told him. "I can perform any Spell or Charm by only thinking about it hard enough. It protects my identity and allows me to be an anonymous Animagus when I Transfigure. I can use Ancient magics that don't exist even in your wildest dreams. I can create Potions for almost anything. I have my restrictions, yes. I have yet to figure them all out, though."
"What kind of restrictions?" Draco had asked.
"Well, if it simply can't be done with a normal wand, I certainly can't do it. Like I couldn't block Avada kedavra if it were sent my way, and I can't walk through walls or fly just with a flick of the tip. A lot of what I know I derived from ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt and China. I fused some Spells together with a handy Charm I discovered called a Thread. I can't defy most of the laws of magic. Like right now there are heavy anti-Apparation and Disapparation spells around this base, so naturally I can't poof about at will. But like right now I have a Silencing Spell on the walls so anyone trying to listen in can't. It's complicated, and I haven't worked out all the bugs just yet, but--"
"But you've saved our arses hundreds of times," Draco interjected before she could finish. But that had been fifteen minutes ago. Now that he had been given time to digest everything, Draco had questions he needed to have answered.
"So...if you can do any kind of magic, dating all the way back to the beginning of time until now, why are we still in this cell? I'm a spy, you're...you're...you're the Spell Caster, Hermione. Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could be back at Hogwarts right now, we could've destroyed Damien and this stupid base, and the War would be ours! What're you waiting for?!"
Hermione stopped pacing and covered her mouth with her hands. Draco could see, even from the side, the concentration brewing behind her large brown eyes. She was still withholding something from him, he could tell. He watched her patiently as she deliberated with herself. Finally, she sat down next to him. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her fingers sliding deftly over the ebony wand and it's black opal handle.
"You don't just find a wand like this, Draco," she said softly as she stared at her treasure. "It isn't some ancient relic or something you could find in a store. Any store, for that matter. It was made for me and me alone, and I was given it for a special reason. Just like you and your sword."
"What about my sword?" He instantly asked, and Hermione sighed again. She gave her wand a flick and the air pressure around them suddenly intensified. Draco felt his ears pop and an unexpected weight in his lap. As cell stabilized itself, he looked down at his sword. Damien had had it confiscated when he had been captured, and seeing it again elated him. He had been afraid that perhaps it had been destroyed. He dared not ask Hermione what she had done to get it back. Some things were best left alone, and transporting solid objects through stone walls in a matter of seconds was one of them.
"Your sword was crafted uniquely for you," she began in a hushed voice, so quiet that Draco had to lean in to hear her. "As was my wand. The few details I know are too sketchy, and as much as I'd like to tell you, the secret is precious to us right now. It could change the fate of the world, and I don't fully trust my Silencing Spell. No one could possibly infiltrate it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Carefully, so as not to bump her belly, she got to her feet. Watching her, Draco was prompted to ask another question.
"You aren't really pregnant, are you?"
Hermione's shoulders slumped. "No. It's a guise to trick Damien into kick starting the Final Battle." She turned again and looked down at Draco, eyes filled with fire. "I told you we'd get out of here and take them down from the inside, and that's what I intend to do. Ron and Luna are still on their way, I'm certain of it. They should be arriving in three days at the most, and we need to have them distracted so Luna can work her magic and get them in here. My pregnancy is the perfect rouse. When I told you I'm an anonymous Animagus, I failed to mention that I can transform myself as well. All it took was a little stretching of the skin." She looked down at Draco triumphantly, as if her plan was fool proof, but Draco's heart had jumped into his throat when he had heard her plan.
"If Damien thinks you're expecting, he'll use it against Harry to either lure him here or attack Hogwarts head-on," He whispered, thinking only of his family. Suddenly, he felt scared. The last time he remembered being scared was the day Ginny had the twins. He felt his hands wrap around his sword hilt. Hadn't Hermione thought her plan through that thoroughly? How could she overlook such an obvious and important side effect?
It took Draco a moment to recognize that her face had gone from victorious to apologetic. As she looked down at him on the floor, mouth drawn and eyes sad, she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, Draco. Not even the Spell Caster can change what Fate has in store."
~*~*~*~*~
Harry was woken by a sharp rapping on his window. He didn't sleep soundly without Hermione by his side, so it didn't take the noise long to reach his ears. Groggy, he opened the window and the tawny barn owl swooped in, dropped a small piece of parchment, and flew back out the window. Harry caught the tattered letter as it floated lazily down to the floor. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at it and instantly recognized the handwriting of the mysterious Spell Caster.
'Be prepared. Do not act rashly. Do not believe everything you hear. Your loved ones are safe, and you will be reunited with them shortly. Have faith, Harry Potter. This War is soon to end.'