Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists
Disclaimer: I can only hope to attain the creative brilliance of J. K Rowling.
AN: Thanks for all the reviews so far. They are really encouraging, and help me fix details (like poor forgotten Hedwig!) I appreciate it, and keep `em coming!
Chapter Five: I Don't Like the Cut of His Jib
"Malfoy," Harry snarled, his eyes like chips of green glacial ice. Malfoy jutted out his chin, and they faced each other down for a moment, tension and hatred crackling between them like electric energy.
Hermione felt the red heat of Harry's anger creep up her face and flush her cheeks. She saw Harry's fingers flex instinctively toward his wand.
Harry, no! she called out. His hand clenched into a fist, and then lowered to his side. Malfoy noticed the twitch - did he ever miss anything? - and his upper lip curled into a sneer.
"Well, little Potty shows some sense, for once," he said witheringly. Harry's jaw worked back and forth.
"Discretion is the better part of valor, Malfoy," he said smoothly, pulling a Muggle quote from memory. Malfoy's eyebrows arched up.
"That is quite a lot of big words, Potter. How long did it take your little Mudblood to pound them into your skull?"
Harry felt Hermione wince with the utterance of the derogatory label. His ire increased.
Harry, calm down! He wants you to pull your wand on him! Hermione cried out urgently in his mind.
Malfoy sauntered closer to Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. He seemed to know exactly how to get under Harry's skin. He also appeared to know exactly how close Harry was to losing it completely.
"Tell me, Potty," Draco bit off the end of the epithet, leaning close to Harry's face. "What kind of … favors… do you exchange for all that homework help?" His meaning was unmistakable, the last question a mere hiss.
Without warning, Harry shoved Malfoy back into the wall, his left forearm across Malfoy's throat. His right hand held his wand, tip pointed at Malfoy's chin.
Harry, stop! He's not worth it! Hermione called, even as Snape exited Dumbledore's office, and quickly pulled Harry away from Draco.
"You puerile pathetic little monsters," Snape snarled, baring his teeth. Harry took momentary comfort from the fact that Snape used the plural, including Draco in his disdain. Draco looked slightly surprised. "I suppose I had the foolish hope that students about to enter their sixth year could control themselves … or at least attempt to do so. It appears that I have once again grossly overestimated you." Snape's gaze raked over Harry, dripping with utter contempt.
Harry glared daggers at Draco, breathing heavily. "Why is he even here before term…sir?" He tagged on the term of respect at the fire that flared in Snape's dark eyes. He did not particularly sound as if he really meant it, and that surprised no one present.
"I do not believe that is any of your affair, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered. Draco smiled in a superior fashion over Snape's shoulder. Harry felt the loathing surge through him again, and saw Hermione quick-step back, as if she'd lost her balance. He struggled to control himself.
Sorry, Hermione, he sent quickly. He felt her reassurance, and he smiled.
Snape glanced behind him toward the Gryffindor girl, noticing that he no longer had Harry's full attention. That seemed to remind him exactly why he had returned to Hogwart's early. The corners of his mouth turned down even more than usual.
"Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go. Since Mr. Potter seems to be completely incapable of behaving like an adult around you, I suggest you…avoid him whenever possible." It was not really a punishment, but more like a suggested restriction; however, this was more reaction than Malfoy usually got from Snape. Harry and Hermione exchanged surprised glances.
Draco opened his mouth, as if to make a rejoinder, but something in Snape's expression must have made him decide against it. He turned and stalked down the corridor toward the Slytherin dungeons, muttering something about "bloody Mudblood lovers".
Snape did not admonish him for his departing epithets, and neither Harry nor Hermione expected him to. They had turned to go, forgetting all about their errand to Dumbledore.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Snape's tone was smooth as silk. "A moment of your time, if you please." The veneer of politeness fooled no one.
Here it comes, Harry thought glumly. They turned back to face their Potions master.
"Professor Dumbledore has made me aware of your new… connection with each other. He has expressed the desire to have both of you schooled in Occlumency," Snape looked less than thrilled, "an unwelcome event that I have obviously brought on myself by wondering what could be worse than tutoring James Potter's spawn." He spat the last phrase.
Bloody git! Hermione thought with vehemence. Harry turned his head sharply toward her, surprised at her language. Snape's eyes darted back and forth between them for a moment.
"I assume Miss Granger is being quite complimentary?" Snape asked blandly. Color flooded Hermione's face, and Snape smiled. It was not pleasant. "Perhaps you can also work on being a little less obvious with your telepathy? A first-year could tell you were reading each other's minds…although I do use that term loosely!" The contempt was back. "I will see you on Thursdays immediately after lunch. We will move the time to evening when the term begins." He swirled his black cape over his shoulder, and strode down the hall in the same direction Draco had gone.
Hermione and Harry stood motionless for a moment, watching the hulking black figure make his way down the corridor, and swish out of sight.
Wordlessly, they began heading back to Gryffindor tower, when Hermione's arm shot out across Harry's chest, checking his forward motion.
"We didn't see Dumbledore," she remembered suddenly. Harry was glum, his encounter with Malfoy and Snape sucking all of the joy out of his day.
"What does it matter?" he asked, kicking at the carpet with the toe of his sneaker. "I don't really feel like it anymore." He plucked at his sweaty Quidditch practice gear, now cool and damp, and clinging to his skin. "I'd really like a shower."
Hermione regarded him for a moment, thoughtfully.
They're both biased, she said, her voice ringing in his head with decisive clarity. Snape hates you only because of who your father is. Malfoy hates you because if you weren't around he'd be the biggest name at school. They're not worth it.
He remembered what he'd tried to tell himself during his most recent sojourn to Privet Drive. He let a half-smile drift across his face.
I know, he admitted. Thanks, Hermione. She smiled at him, a very shy, un-Hermione-like half-smile, and reached hesitantly for his hand, threading her fingers through his.
Harry looked down at their joined hands with something like surprise, and felt warmth begin to thrum through his fingers and up his arm. He looked at Hermione, who appeared to be as surprised as he, and was gazing at him with limpid eyes. Her lips were parted slightly.
What…? Harry managed to think, leaning towards Hermione almost imperceptibly.
"There you are!" he heard Ron's cheerful voice, as Hermione and he careened apart. "Where'd you go?" the red-head asked, and then looked at his two friends more carefully. "What's going on? Were you... holding her hand?" There was an incredulous note in his voice, and he looked at Harry quizzically.
Harry threw one arm around Hermione's shoulder in a comradely fashion, patting her on the arm with sympathy. "We ran into Malfoy," he said, as if that explained their odd behavior, trying to give the indication that he had been comforting their friend.
Ron bit instantly.
"Why is that bloody prat here?" he asked indignantly.
"He came with Snape," Hermione answered, her brow furrowed in genuine curiosity. "I wonder why…" she spoke mostly to herself, and trailed off.
"What did he say to you?" Ron asked, looking quite concerned. Harry's eyes became steely.
"He made some rather nasty implications about homework…and favors done in exchange," Harry said, not having to fake any of the loathing in his voice.
"That filthy little - " was all of Ron's tirade that Harry heard, because Hermione interrupted him.
Is that what he said to you? Before you knocked him into the wall? Hermione had shock and hurt in her voice.
Yeah, Harry said, in an apologetic tone.
Now I wish you had hexed him! There was an angry sigh at the end of her sentence. Harry laughed involuntarily, and Ron paused in mid-rant to stare at him.
Just say the word, milady! Harry said with mock gallantry.
I could do a lot worse than having you for my hero, Harry, Hermione said with a warm note in her voice. The melting sensation was back, even though neither of them was touching the other.
"Harry?" Ron asked, in a confused tone. Harry realized that he was probably gazing at Hermione, with a ridiculous dreamy smile, and he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to anything Ron had said.
Snape's right, he admitted with chagrin. It would be obvious to anybody that something weird's going on.
"Harry, are you all right?" Ron's voice was solicitous, and his eyes darted over to Hermione.
"Yeah, Ron, I'm fine. Sorry, my mind wandered a bit."
"Is there - is there - " Ron's voice was hesitant. "Is there something going on? Between..?" He gestured at them with both hands.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a moment. Harry forced a laugh past his lips, and even to him, it rang falsely in the corridor. Hermione managed to tilt her mouth upward in a smile.
"Really, Ron," she smirked. "Wherever did you get a notion like that?" She rolled her eyes as if it were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.
"Yeah…" Harry echoed, but his heart wasn't really in it.
"Right, then," Ron ran his fingers through his hair, with a `silly me' grin. "Sorry."
Hermione felt a little trickle of hurt seep her way. Harry was not looking at her.
You - you didn't think I meant it, Harry? She sounded flustered and embarrassed; saying that was giving away more than she really wanted to.
Harry felt stupid. You sounded awfully convincing, he pointed out.
Her cheeks flushed, as the trio turned by unspoken consent to return to Gryffindor Tower.
I didn't mean it, in a very small voice. Walking a few paces behind Ron, Harry let his fingers reach toward hers, and caress them momentarily, before his hand withdrew back to his side. Hermione's heart thudded in her ears, and she didn't dare look at him.
Hey! Harry interjected suddenly, as if an idea had just occurred to him.
What is it?
You remember how Dumbledore said I could probably read other people's minds if I tried? Hermione looked at him warily.
Yeeahhh…she said reluctantly.
We could find out why Malfoy's really here…what he's up to. He'd never even know.
Hermione looked at him for a long moment, knowing already that nothing she could say would change his mind, or deter him from this course of action. Still, she had to try.
Harry, I think that is a really bad idea…
TBC
I really had trouble with this chapter. It is a little short and kind of a transition-y chapter, and I'm still not thrilled with it. More plot development to come.
Come on and review… pretty please?
-->