Author's Note: This is the SECOND PART of Chapter 7: Remedial Relations. This picks up IMMEDIATELY after Ron, Dean and Harry split up in their search for Mrs. Norris.
PLEASE - if you read and likes or read in did not like - PLEASE drop me a review/comment!
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"Hiya Fang - is Hagrid home?" Harry dropped a quick ear-scratch on the sleeping dog's head as he made his way up Hagrid's front path
Stretching his stride to plant a foot on each of the flagstones leading to Hagrid's front door, Harry trotted up the front steps and knocked at the same time he opened the unlocked door. "Hagrid - you home?"
Running his eyes over the checked tablecloth, the made-up bed, various traps and cages suspended from the ceiling, there was no sign of the groundskeeper. Nor was there any evidence that Mrs. Norris was hiding in his friend's hut.
Pulling the door shut and backtracking, he crouched down in front of Fang. The huge dog lifted his head off his paws and looked at Harry.
"Let me know if you see Mrs. Norris - okay?" Harry saw him lift an eyebrow and thump his tail - guess that is Dog-ese for yes. "Thanks. Good boy."
Glancing over at the Pitch, he could see that the Ravenclaw team was in the air and practicing drills. This meant that, if he went over there, it would seem like he was spying on their game-plans instead of searching for an errant feline. Remembering something that happened last year, Harry wondered if tricking an opposing team member to bragging about their strategies in order to know about said strategies could be considered a trifle dodgy. Then again, smiling at the memory as he passed the Pitch and headed out beyond the greenhouses, being tricked by a fellow Quidditch player into thinking that you had tricked them into revealing their strategies only to find out that that was their plan all along - that is just good Quidditch strategy.
The expanse of lawn stretching from behind the greenhouses all the way to the lakeshore was enormous. And largely unbroken - unless that cat is hiding behind a blade of grass, she is not here. Shielding his eyes from the late afternoon sun, he swept the area from left to right. A breeze lightly tossed the tops of the far trees and rippled the grass. Shaking his head, redistributing his hair so that the wind blew through it evenly, the smell of green grass, evergreens, lake water and hay flowed around him.
It was the smell of hay that had him gauging how much time he had left before he had to meet up with Dean and Ron. Squinting in the direction where the stables were and looking back at the castle, it was the prospect of going back with that beastly cat had him jogging to the stables.
Coming up on the corral, the coppery smell of blood wafted from one of the twin troughs near the paddock. Grimacing at the stained basin as he passed by it, Harry followed the trail of sunlight that spilled through the open doors of the barn.
Stalls and the intermittent tack room ran the length of the two-storey building. Over head, the loft area held rows of baled hay. The central corridor was peppered with hanging harnesses, clusters of barrels containing feed, and the sporadic pitchfork and rake leaned against the walls. Here and there, horse blankets were draped over the lower portions of the split doors that kept animals in their stalls but allowed for necks and heads to poke out into the hallway. A gentle hiss and mew brought a smile to Harry's face. A pair of adolescent barn kittens was chasing each other from one room to the next and down the hallway. Following in the wake of their scampers, watching as they steered clear of the occupied stalls but still keeping their sparring match in play, the two rolled, tangled and broke apart only to rear up and aim open-pawed swipes at one another.
The sight of a scurrying mouse stopped both kittens in mid-attack. Clambering off each other and back onto all four legs, they both took off after the luckless critter. Happy hunting you two, Harry winged to the kittens. Focusing - not on the sound of pursuit emitted by the two kittens - his hearing, he cocked his head. Who is in here?
He knew he had not made a sound. The well-marked floor made his trainers silent. The occasional bits of straw crushed beneath his feet had been masked by the scuffle of the kittens and normal barn noises. Whoever they were, they were talking in normal tones. Following the sound of conversation, his inner Marauder perked awake. Excellent. This means that I can be nearby and still not miss anything that is being said.
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"Granger. So help me. If I find out otherwise…" Draco let his voice trail off.
"Malfoy. I told you. It is being taken care of," Hermione's answer had more than one layer to it.
Running his hands along the ridge of the Thestral's bony back, he trailed a cupped palm down a hind leg. Keeping his hand in place, he used the other to reach into his back pocket and withdraw the hoof pick. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he coaxed the animal into crooking its knee. Not bothering to look up from freeing bits of - whatever the hell this stuff is - debris imbedded between the shoe and hoof, he replied, "Just like you-"
"No. Not like that." She cut him off decisively. "I promised. No one will know, for now. Just so long as you uphold your end of the bargain, Draco." "
Two can play this game, Granger. Speak of one thing but really talk about something else.
"I will handle Gorilla Boy."
"Play nice, Draco. It is bad enough I have to clean up after Ron and Harry. That poor homesick Third Year hasn't stopped wetting the bed yet!" Laughing despite the serious subtopic, Hermione rolled her eyes to the roof of the stall. "You should have seen me!" Bringing her dark gaze into alignment with his grey eyes, her smile was full of chagrin. "Trying to keep a straight face as Susan told me that the drains in the boys' showers were getting clogged and she was worried about the plumbing if McMillan decided to grow a winter coat!"
Recalling a now-archived article from the Hogwarts Gossip Mill, a smirk crept over his face. "Did you ever find out-"
"Let's just say that Ernie's problems are," she drummed her fingers against the shelf as paused, trying to choose the right word. Deciding the best way to reveal what she knew Draco watched as a wry smile of her own brightened her face as she alluded to the reason why the Hufflepuff prefect had back hair that crept up and over the collar of his uniform. "Self inflicted."
Letting go of the cleaned hoof, Draco moved around to the other side of the Thestral. Repeating the same procedure, pieces of pulverized rock bounced off the walls of the barn as he scraped and prodded inside the animal's foot.
Hearing her sober, Draco shot a look at his counterpart. He watched as Hermione kept to the left side of the horse-like creature and boosted herself onto an extended shelf that usually served as a resting place for wrangling equipment. Letting her heels lightly bounce off the wooden support beams, twisting away from the half-door, he knew she was waiting on him to say something.
It was interesting, being in the stables with her. Away from the school proper, friends, professors and other influences, he felt a shifting take place. It is like we reached a level of civility that isn't allowed when we wear our robes. Popping both eyes open and shaking his head at the un-necessarily deep thought, he refocused his attentions on an inch of twig jammed sideways against the creature's shoe. Tapping a series of reassuring claps on the animal's neck, he grunted with the effort it took to pry loose the piece of wood. He saw the powerful legs begin to clomp down on the hay bed, signifying its discomfort. Ignoring how it flexed the top of its wings, Draco dug at the particularly tender spot. Both hands occupied, he hoped he could free the splinter before the creature decided to sample exactly how tasty a Malfoy could be.
An audible snap, the twig sprang free and Draco landed on his arse in the straw that lined the stall floor. Looking up and expecting to see freshly cleaned hooves coming down on his head, the sight of Hermione holding the bridle and cooing softly at the dragonish head was a surprise. Not that she would let someone get hurt if she could prevent it - she is a bloody Gryffindor after all, he reminded himself - it was the fact that she knew where the bit met the bridle. Her, finger-combing the animal's forelock, meant…
She can see the Thestral!
Pulling his legs together and pushing off with his hands, Draco climbed to his feet and traced a pattern on its leathery wing. Looking across the nose of the creature, he deliberately caught Hermione's eye. "When?"
Her gaze did not falter, but her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "No."
Denied his answer - for now, Granger - Draco picked up the curry comb and started to work on the Thestral's tail. Arching an eyebrow of his own at her, he countered, "Just in case you have forgotten, this Friday is jack-o-lantern day."
"You forget Draco; I am not opposed to manual labour." The look she gave him was the perfect response to his Malfoy 'na-na-nanan-na'.
The Thestral 'beat him to the snort'. "Work is servant's stuff."
Finished with the tail, he hung up the comb and reached into a rucksack resting in the corner. Grabbing two jars, tossing one to Hermione and keeping one for himself, he tickled the underside of the nearest wing. Taking half a step back when it unfurled, he opened the jar and scooped out several fingerfulls of the viscous salve. Reading her quizzical expression, "Keeps the skin smooth and supple - makes it less susceptible to tears from air borne objects and friction damage."
"And to think I could never have been able to figure that out on my own, Mr. Malfoy." Her sarcastic smile changed to derisive when she looked the Thestral in the eye and asked the animal, "Where would we be without Know-It-Alls in the world?"
The way the beast stamped its hooves made Draco think it understood what the brunette truly wanted to know. Not that he was a Know-It-All, but whether or not she would classify Snape and himself in the same category of Arsehole. After what happened in class today…
Hearing the jangle of the bridle as it was released, the other wing opened without prompting. Dipping into the jar and paying special attention to a chapped area near a joint, Draco thought Potter had a point when the Gryffindor Captain said that Hermione usually had the best things to say.
"Granger, have you-"
The answer he got was not what he was looking for - she is sidestepping.
"I told you, Malfoy, the robes will be delivered. If they do not come tonight, they will be here first thing tomorrow morning." Tucking a curl behind her ear with her wrist, she did not bother making eye contact as she reminded him of the time table.
"That's not what I was talking about." Irritated that she was keeping him from finding out what he wanted to know, Draco let his eyes cloud over with frustration. Getting nothing but stubbornness, he switched his tone to something increasingly more intimidating the more he spoke. "But, seeing as we are on the subject. Granger, so help me…"
"You'll what, Malfoy?"
Harry kept his distance until he heard Malfoy threaten Hermione for the second time. Tripping the catch, he let the half door swing wide, leaned casually against the door and looked expectantly at the Head Boy.
Ignoring the dramatic entrance, Draco looked at Hermione as if the tall, dark-haired boy did not exist. "If my House loses points because we do not have our robes, Merlin himself will not be able to save you. Dumbledore is resetting all the House passwords and the password to his office tomorrow morning, directly after breakfast. Neither you nor I nor the prefects will have the new codes until lunch. Which means no one can back track to the dormitories for any reason."
He caught the way he and Hermione seemed to change now that they were no longer alone. Correcting his own posture from guarded-casual to en-guard casual, Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "I mean it Granger."
The Thestral sensed the shift in the air, the heightened level of animosity. Tossing its head and blowing noisily, it pulled back its wings and eyed the new-comer.
"Malfoy - I thought we had progressed beyond threats." Her words were directed at him, but Draco could see that the Thestral had her attention. The bored tone in her voice was deliberate - sliding them both into thrust-and-parry mode.
Potter, for his part, 'kept his glare on' and folded his arms across his chest. The aggressive stance only further agitated the creature. Tut-tutting the other boy, "Careful, Potty. Any more sudden movements and people will start calling you Thestral Kibble instead of Scar Head."
"You will do no such thing, will you boy?" Hermione asked the stall-lodger. Keeping one hand on its nose, she stretched out her hand and the halter that had been hanging just to the left of Potter's head landed in her palm. Coaxing the bit free, she slipped the bridle off as well. "There, that's better - isn't it?" The look Draco got as she looped the fastenings of the halter through its rings was blatant: don't make me muzzle you, Malfoy.
Waiting until she clipped the tethers to the halter, Draco opened his mouth only to be interrupted by Potter. "Malfoy, I suggest you apologize to Hermione."
"When have promises become apology materials, Potter?" Looking introspective for a moment, he deliberately pondered out loud, "Unless, of course, your name happens to be Weasley and you are the Gryffindor Keeper." Seeing Potter lift his chin, he figured now was as good a time as any to be magnanimous. "Since this happens to be the case, I will accept your apology for inflicting, "; a scowl from Hermione changed his choice of words, but not his meaning, "that ham-fisted keeper onto the noble game of Quidditch."
"Harry - it's fine." Pulling the animal's forelock free of the halter, Draco saw her give him one more meaningful look: don't you dare. Turning on her heel and stepping away from the Thestral, she approached Potter. "What are you doing here?"
"Malfoy, take that back before I…"
"Before you do what, Potter? Summon all your little friends?" Draco felt the beginning stages of his own Granger ambush click into place. She might be able to handle me - and she is certainly able to handle Potter - but she sure as Hades cannot handle the two of us talking over her head. "I knew we were going to have a tea party eventually."
"Ignore him. Harry - look at me." Draco heard her question take on the edge of a demand. "What are you doing here?"
"Not now Hermione, can't you see what he is doing?" Potter's expression could not have been better if he had schooled the lad himself.
Looking from Potter, to himself and back to Potter, Draco saw low embers begin to glow in her eyes. "Yes - I can. I am not daft you know. Unlike some people…"
"Malfoy," Potter flicked an annoyed 'I'm handling this' at Granger before locking wills with him again. "Apologize to Hermione, take back what you said about Ron and maybe - just maybe - you'll be able to use a spoon at dinner tonight."
"Harry - he is baiting you on purpose." Granger's hand on His Most Thickness was just as forceful as her command. "Back down!"
"I will not, Hermione. Do you know-", Potter wrenching his arm free graduated Granger's embers to flames.
"I know perfectly well what is going on - unlike you!" The effort to keep her voice down - as to not startle the Thestral - was evident in the way she tucked invisible strands behind her ears. Wonder if Potthead picks up that, Draco thought.
Turning her head so fast that her hair splayed around her shoulders, Draco saw just how close Firestorm Hermione was to setting everything ablaze. "Stop it, Draco. Enough. You got your rise. Let it be enough."
A carefully constructed look of innocence on his part had Hermione partially facing Potter. Giving me the perfect opportunity - take this, Potter!
In full view of Harry, Draco made sure he gave Hermione's profile the most wolfish once-over ever cast.
Usually bored with how easy it was to rile Weasley and Potter, Draco was inwardly surprised at how much he was having. Harry Potter, the second most Gryffindor of all the Gryffindors, nearly coming undone by a few jibes and taking an 'inventory' of Granger's generous 'assets' is really quite excellent entertainment.
Taking hold of Potter's sleeve one more time, Draco made sure Harry saw his look of disapproval as Hermione dragged her friend into the central hall way. A look to make sure Harry knew Draco would miss 'appreciating' the curves her Muggle clothes clearly outlined.
Ducking his head under the Thestral's neck, Draco moved to the other side of the stall. His turn to lean against the door jamb, the view was perfect. It takes so little to do so much. This ought to be good!
"Are you satisfied, now? You just let him get the better of you!" The sound of Granger dressing down Potter was like an elixir slipping down his throat.
"Me? You're going off on me because I stood up for you?" Potter's score on the Incred-u-Metre: eight out of a possible ten.
"In case you have not gotten the owl, Harry - I have dealt with Malfoy in the past, I have been dealing with him all year. Don't you think I have figured him out already?"
Hermione's voice does get deep when she is put out, Draco pursed his lips to prevent calling out to Dunderhead to stop. Too late…
"You know - that is your problem, Hermione."
"My problem?"
"Yeah - you think you have everyone and everything sorted out, figured out and organised. Two days ago, you told me that you would 'solve your problem' without even bothering to see IF I had a problem!"
Hmmm - wonder if Brown would like to have a serial added to the Hogwarts Gossip Mill? We'll call it - When Potter Speaks.
"Oh, don't worry Harry - I KNOW what your problem is," Hermione bit through clenched teeth. "Believe me; I have enough to do without taking on anything extra."
"You know what, Hermione - you are wrong."
Now, this is worth the price of admission!
Watching her step into his personal space, her declaration didn't need to be shouted to be heard. Folding her arms across her chest, Draco had to admit she cut a fine figure, especially when she stuck out her hip and turned out one of her feet. "I know EXACTLY what your problem is, Harry James Potter."
"Oh yeah? Enlighten me, Hermione Jane Granger. Why don't you share the wealth, Hermione? What exactly is 'my problem' that you are going to solve?"
Wizards and witches, we have achieved conflagration.
"Watch and learn, Harry. I am only going to do this once."
Instant replay was the only way Draco could see what happened to him ten seconds ago.
Hermione, pivoting on her heels at the same time as her arms fell to her sides, marching away from Potter, standing in front of him, grabbing two big handfuls of his hair and pulling his face down to her level to land a hard, closed-mouth kiss directly on his lips. Releasing her grip, she all but threw him back in to the jamb. Marching back to face Potter, looking him hard in the eyes she said, "THAT is your problem. And I don't know if I will be around long enough to figure it out."
Now he and Potter were looking at her swiftly retreating back as she stormed out of the stables.
Hearing something, but not quite making words out of the sounds he heard, Draco felt an eerie sensation of déjà vu. "Potter, if you expect an answer you are going to have to repeat yourself."
"I said: you did this!"
"Get your wand out of your arse, Potter. What happened right now had nothing to do with me."
"Shave your teeth, Malfoy." Hmmm… Potter's getting feisty.
Do I or don't I….
"Generally speaking, Potter, I leave talking shite to the politicians." Well - I never could resist having the upper hand with the Clueless Wonder. "You really put your foot in it this time, Gryffindor."
"What are you talking about, Slytherin?"
"You really are dense, you know that right? Don't you know what is going on?"
"Snake cuddling?" Part one of Potter's witty come-back. "Everyone is so bloody bright around here; maybe I am not taking the right classes."
Damn, the boy got it on the first try. "Apparently you don't, Scarhead." Referring to their class timetables, "Do you know what she is taking this term?"
"Potions, Defence Against the Darkest Arts-"
"Rune Casting and Arithmancy, you dolt," Draco felt his eyes roll to the hay loft.
"So? She's been taking those for years."
"It is a pity, you know. You may not have my lineage, but at least both your parents were wizards. It is a pity you were raised in a Muggle world."
Shifting to brace his hands on the flat of the split door, Draco locked his eyes with the dark haired boy as Potter bit out, "What is that supposed mean?"
"Arithmancy - one of the most difficult and intellectually challenging of all the sciences and she doesn't just succeed - she excels at it."
"What is so special about Rune Casting? So you read a bunch of symbols on bone chips."
"NOT in Seventh Year, Potty. Not for someone like her." Oh, Potter - you really have no idea, do you? "Hers is a special project. She has to not only create a language that can be etched into bone, but she has to create the magics to actually bring the etchings and the language and the celestial movements and the powers of the elements together to make HER runes viable."
"She can do that?" Make that answer a nine on the Incred-u-Metre. "I know she's the brightest witch of our age…"
"You still don't get it, do you? All you can think of is how superior she must be and how proud of her you are. Are you off the mark!"
Potter, you don't have a comment?
"She is being courted as an Unspeakable. If she accepts their offer - she would be a fool not too because it is almost unheard of to be courted - neither myself, you nor Weaslebee will ever see her again. Granger will be sequestered, prepared and connected to deepest of all mysteries - the Source of all magics."
The silence between the two boys was a bona fide ten on the Incred-u-Metre.
Feeling a hot breath on his left shoulder, Draco absently stroked the dragonish head of the Thestral as Potter took in one of Granger's secrets.
"For what it's worth Potter - you were right." Seeing the Gryffindor look at him with slightly shell-shocked eyes, Draco gave into the urge to pull his thumb and forefinger down and around mouth, tracing the outside edges of his lips.
Licking each finger in turn, he had to give credit where credit was due. Nor could he resist baiting Potter on last time.
"She really does have the best things to say."