-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
"If you don't sit down, I'm going to nail you to your chair."
"Something's not right, I'm telling you."
"Harry," Ron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're giving me a headache, just sit still." His friend glared at him briefly, before finally complying and sitting on the edge of a desk. He glanced absently around the empty classroom, exhaling heavily before looking back up at the other boy.
"So," Ron said slowly, leaning against the desk opposite him. "Start again, what happened?"
"I was in the Library with Ginny, I'd just sent Hermione back to her room." Harry began patiently. "I went over to the Herbology section to look up a text on the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, and by the time I came back, she was gone but her books were still there."
"Right." He replied, scratching his head. "And you haven't seen her since?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "And I haven't seen Hermione either, she's not in her room and they weren't at lunch."
"You're overreacting." Ron said bluntly, crossing his arms. "You know what girls are like, she probably went back to get something from the tower and ended up chatting to Hermione. You yourself said she'd got distracted between leaving Transfiguration and meeting Ginny, to the point where she'd forgotten to go get some sleep."
"Hmm," Harry grunted, apparently not convinced in the slightest.
"Oh come on, Harry." Ron exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "You know what they're like. Look at them this morning, they were acting completely mental!" Ron sighed, before turning to face the wall. "I'm sure nothing's wrong." He said finally.
"Yeah," Harry conceded, his voice sounding resigned. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right." Ron grinned, before slapping him on the back.
"Come on, let's go back to your study."
"What? Why can't we go to the common room?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Lunchtime, sprogs, need I say more?" Ron replied as they left the room, closing the door behind them. "Besides, yours is more comfortable." He looked pensively towards the staircase. "If only I'd bothered with being a prefect, I'd have a nice king sized bed too."
"Yeah," Harry muttered, "And duties until midnight, meetings ten times a day, irritating little third years trying to get a lucky shot off at you when you're not looking…"
"Cheer up, grumpy." Ron smiled, "I'm sure Hermione will be very touched by how concerned you were about her.
"Oh don't start this again." He snapped irritably, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Why is everyone so convinced we have a…"
"A what?" Ron asked innocently.
"You know…" Harry made a frantic hand movement, to which Ron raised an eyebrow.
"You have gesticulation?" He asked, confusion creeping into his voice.
"Don't be a twat, Ron. A thing!" He sighed exasperatedly, eventually giving up the gesturing and returning his hands to their rightful place inside his trouser pockets. They were quiet for a few moments as they trudged on, seeing only the occasional student in the corridors. There was still fifteen minutes until the end of lunch, and most people were in the Great Hall. Harry had waited there for Ron at the beginning after Ginny had vanished, and dragged him into that classroom almost immediately, much to the other boy's chagrin. "I'm getting so sick of the constant comments."
"Well, for god's sake Harry, maybe they're observations." Ron said a little sharply, the irritation creeping into his voice. Harry stopped in mid-stride, his friend catching on a second later, turning to see why. "What?"
"What are you talking about?" He asked, looking at Ron as if he'd grown a second head.
"Come on, you're not an idiot mate, don't pretend you are one." The taller boy rolled his eyes, as if bored of the conversation.
"No, really. Explain, before I get irritated." Harry said stiffly, now glaring.
"Oi," Ron replied, his own eyes narrowing. "Just because you and her have this massive bloody hang up about your feelings for each other, don't think you can have a go at me, alright?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry replied coldly, moving off again past Ron.
"Oh, of course not. My mistake, it's not like you told me you had a crush on her in fifth year or anything, was it?"
"That was two years ago." He retorted brusquely, glaring at a fourth year who (wisely) darted out of his way to the other side of the corridor.
"Yeah…and it never really went away, did it?" Ron pressed, jogging slightly to catch up with his friend's brisk pace. "Did it, Harry?" Harry stopped again, shaking his head in disbelief.
"What makes you think you can tell me that? Eh? How do you know how I feel?" He almost spat at the other boy, who refused to flinch in the face of his angry tone.
"I'm your best friend." He answered coolly. "I think I know you a little better than you give me credit." Harry simply sighed in frustration before banging through the doors that led to the Gryffindor Corridor. He stalked on ahead, with Ron keeping pace unyieldingly beside him, even thought he'd much rather have stopped to catch his breath.
"Why do you care, anyway?" Harry asked suddenly as they veered off from the portrait of the Fat Lady towards the Head access.
"Because I hate seeing you two do this to each other, and if you don't start facing up and taking some fucking responsibility for your feelings, it's gonna be gone, Harry! Too late!" He replied angrily, throwing the doors open himself this time. "Besides, I'm getting pissed off with the amount of tension between you. It makes me never want to have sex again."
"What tension?" Harry scoffed, barking his password (Nimbus!) at the portrait of Wendelina the Wise, and without breaking stride, stepping through.
"Those little touches, the hand-holding, the private smiles, the non-verbal communication…" Ron listed, punctuating each point by unfolding a different finger from his clenched fist. "It's all rather sickening, really." Harry lobbed his bag in the corner, before throwing himself down on the sofa, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other massaged the back of his neck. Ron took a seat next to him, allowing the silence to stretch. Harry would speak when he was ready.
"Alright, fine." He muttered after a good few minutes. "So what if I never did stop liking her? What am I supposed to do about it?"
"Tell her!" Ron cried, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"It's not that simple Ron!" Harry replied, his voice having risen in volume again.
"Why not?" The other boy asked, folding his arms obstinately. "Give me one good reason why not."
"She doesn't like me in that way."
"Bollocks!"
"Ron-"
"No, Harry. Shut up." He suddenly burst out, poking a finger in Harry direction. "You and I both know that's utter crap, so how about you stop bullshitting me and tell the truth?" They stared at each other for another few moments, the tension levels back up to what they were before. Eventually, however, Harry exhaled, seemingly deflating in front of him.
"Alright, she does." He admitted, glaring at Ron as the boy gave him a triumphant smirk. "But I mean, say I do tell her, what do I say? 'Hi Hermione, how was your day? Guess what, I've been ridiculously in love with you for well over two years, probably longer, and I thought that now would be a good time to tell you because I have a feeling you might think the same?'"
Ron merely shrugged.
"Sounds good."
"She was right, you know." Harry replied slowly. "You do have the emotional range of a teaspoon."
"Har har." He shot back sardonically, "It's Hermione, mate. You know fancy lines and stuff aren't gonna work with her."
"Yeah, I know." He agreed miserably, falling forward so his head was in his hands.
"Oh dear," Ron observed dramatically. "Pull yourself together man, you know she feels the same way."
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who has to stake seven years of friendship on a conversation."
"Look at it this way - if she does like you and you tell her, great. If you tell her and, by some unbelievably slim chance she says no, then you've been mates for too long to just stop seeing each other like that." They were silent again, the moments passing until Ron reached inside his bag, retrieving what was left of a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. He broke it in half, tossing one piece onto Harry's lap before biting into his own.
"How did you manage to deal with it?" Harry asked suddenly, biting the corner off of his chunk.
"Deal with what?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"You know…your…oh bollocks to it, your crush on her?" He asked; staring at Ron with what he hoped was a searching gaze. Ron merely blinked, before breaking out in a sharp laugh that rang off the walls.
"You're kidding me? You think I liked her?" He asked, chuckling to himself.
"Well…yeah…" Replied a very bemused Harry. "I mean, you got so pissed off with her over that Yule Ball thing, and there was all that bickering…"
"You seriously think Hermione and me would have a long, stable relationship, mate?" He asked, grinning widely. "We can barely be in the same room for longer than a few hours without trying to kill each other."
"But I thought…"
"Alright, listen to me Harry." Ron replied, setting down his chocolate. "I'm going to get very, very gay with you here, and I want you to appreciate it, because it's going to hurt."
Harry stared at him in horror.
"Love, Harry, is not about superficial things like bickering, offending each other, and arguing all the time. That's what you do when you're five, and you decide to show someone you like them by hitting them in the face." He paused, waiting for Harry's breathing to return to normal. "It's about understanding someone, about going out of your way to accommodate them, about being nice to them for no reason other than you can't conceive hurting them, and about feeling terrible when you do. It's about being able to chat about your problems without inhibition and it's about loving the differences you have with each other, as well as the similarities."
"You're right…" Harry said slowly, after a few moments. "That was really gay." Ron, to his credit, merely shrugged.
"Your choice whether or not to take it onboard, mate."
They were silent again, the only sounds being the occasional snap of a piece of chocolate breaking off, and chewing, the tranquillity comfortable but noticeable at the same time.
"What've you got next?"
"Potions. You?"
"Charms."
"Right…shall we go?"
"Let's."
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
Pansy could barely control the huge, wide grin that tugged at her mouth and required considerable effort to subdue as she strode into the Potions dungeon that afternoon. She'd taken her ingredients out of her bag as usual, setting up her lone cauldron in the corner as the rest of the class filed in. Snape had avoided speaking to her, and to be honest, that was just fine in her books. She didn't need his support anyway, her casting of the Separatum curse this morning had gone off without a hitch, and nobody was any the wiser.
Or so she thought, until the rest of the class was seated. As she scanned the room, her heart leapt as she saw Potter sitting on his own at his usual workstation, looking around in much the same way that she was, albeit with a more lost, concerned look on his face.
She wasn't there.
Hermione Granger never missed a lesson. The little bitch never missed one!
She could barely control her laughter; the feeling of glee that spread from somewhere deep inside of her filling her nerve endings with delight. She must have tested the boundaries of the curse, she must have! There was no other explanation.
Did it hurt, little mudblood? She mused, staring at the empty seat with a detached, distant look in her eyes. Anybody who cared to glance over would have thought she was simply daydreaming, but she was completely alert. Her senses were primed, she took in everything as the adrenaline pumped through her blood stream, firing her synapses and making her feel more…alive…than she had in a long time. The thought that the mudblood was writhing in pain somewhere, nobody to help her, because of her was euphoric, addictive. And, with a thrill that coursed through her like electricity, she reminded herself that that blood-traitor whore Weasley would be as well. You may have had Draco, she smirked inwardly, but he can't help you now, can he? Idly, she examined her fingernails as she allowed the smallest of grins to cross her features. That's what you get for being a little SLUT, isn't it? For touching things that aren't yours, taking things that don't belong to you!
"If you would kindly bring your attention back to the land of reality, Miss Parkinson." The now-hated, oily voice cut through her reverie, causing her eyes to narrow irritably as her thoughts were derailed.
"Yes, sir." She replied in a flat tone, careful not to betray her quivers of excitement. The game, she decided, that she would play with these two was a patient one. She very much doubted that they would suffer for too long, the school was too populated for nobody to notice their…screams. The Headmaster would also, undoubtedly, discover the curse she'd placed upon them, although she'd taken pains to mask her magical signature the night before, performing so many cloaking and altering spells that it would be impossible to determine who had cast it in the first place without examining her wand. She'd then done so many innocuous and menial spells after breakfast that even the Prior Incantato spell would be ineffective.
However, the curse would be discovered, the two girls informed of its effects. It didn't mean they could do anything about it, though, and Pansy intended to play the little bond she'd thrust upon Granger and Weasley to its full advantage.
She'd had her chance later that period. Either through sheer luck, or (she was more certain) a propensity on Snape's part to assume that legwork was a punishment, she was ordered to retrieve extra supplies of Fundlewhip tail from his supply cupboard. No student other than a Slytherin would have been permitted to fetch it, of course, and since she was the only member of the class working solo (Potter had teamed up with Finnigan and Patil), she had been sent.
At first, she had been angry. Her Adficium Solution had been going so well, the steps described in her book exactly how they were appearing in front of her, even down to the peculiar swirls of lilac in the green mixture. It was ruined now, of course, despite Snape's insistence that he would monitor it. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him these days, and she highly doubted if she could even lift him. Another ruined potion, and on the day when that know-it-all wasn't even in class, the day her efforts finally paid off. She cursed angrily, kicking at the floor as she made her way towards the store cupboard, pausing suddenly as she heard two quiet voices. Two very familiar, quiet voices, their dulcet tones having haunted her dreams for weeks. With silent steps, she made her way to the corner, and peered around slowly.
She couldn't believe her luck. There, walking with a slightly dazed air, were the two girls she hated most at this point in her life, the girls that had occupied her mind for so long.
With a quick silencio to the soles of her shoes, she followed stealthily behind, desperately trying to pick up whatever she could from the exchanges between them. Finally, with a twinge of victory and satisfaction, she saw Granger stop, Pansy barely ducking out of the way before the girl turned around and began crying loudly in the corridor.
She didn't think she'd ever grinned so much in one day. She drank in her sorrow, delighting in every shuddering gasp, every little noise that was made as Weasley comforted her, rubbed her back gently. How very sisterly. If she weren't so pleased, she'd probably have vomited. Too soon, the stifled sobs slowed though, the crying quietened. She rolled her eyes at the cooing sounds that Weasley made.
Pathetic.
As the murmur of their voices resumed, Pansy strained her ears to catch what was being said.
"I know what you're going to ask, and it's fine." Hermione said, sniffing slightly. "Go, see him tonight."
"But…our link…" Ginny began, but was cut off once more.
"Is best fought with the kind of things that make you happy. He makes you happy, therefore, it's a good thing." She smiled then, giving her eyes one final wipe with the back of her sleeve. "Besides," she sniffed, through a slightly congested-sounding voice. "Now the boys can't ever say you're not really in love, eh? I know for sure."
Oh good lord, she really was going to be ill. And now what…they were laughing? She set her jaw, before stalking off back down the corridor, thankful for the silencing spell on her shoes that would have otherwise given her away. With a vicious tug, she yanked the door of the store cupboard open, retrieving the items Snape asked her to get, before kicking it closed with a violent snap of her foot.
So, they found this amusing did they? Thought it was a joke? Thought it wasn't serious? She'd show them the price of mocking her efforts. There was absolutely no shadow of a doubt in her mind who "He" was. The little whore was going to be throwing herself at Draco again tonight, was she? Well, since the mudblood would be with Potter, it gave her plenty of opportunity for exploiting the fruits of her earlier labours.
Storming angrily back towards the dungeons, an idea formed inside of her mind that made her dark countenance twist into an ugly smile.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
Ginny threw the sofa cushion across the room in frustration, causing Hermione's grip around her cup of tea to tighten dangerously.
"Ginny." She said patiently, but shortly. "You have to empty your mind, control your emotions rather than let them control you." She took a sip of the soothing liquid, still feeling a twinge of her own irritation mixing with the girl's "For a change." She muttered.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny demanded, placing her hands on her hips. Hermione felt a flash of anger course through her briefly, before she closed her eyes, exhaling heavily and allowing herself to calm before looking the girl directly in the eye.
"This is getting us nowhere." She said evenly, in a controlled voice. "You need to learn to empty your mind. Getting angry won't help either of us, you know." Ginny looked as if she was ready to argue the point for a few moments, before she shook her head and sighed as well.
"I know," She said resignedly. "I just wish it were easier than this." Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Kind of gives you a whole new level of respect for Harry, doesn't it?" Ginny asked, referring to his mastery of Occlumency last year. Hermione, after thinking through the various options available to them, had decided that the Occlumentic meditation exercises of purging your mind of thoughts, clearing your body of controlling emotions were the best way to maintain command of their faculties, both physical and mental. If they were going to be spending at least a week essentially sharing a body, they had to learn to filter it somehow. Otherwise the emotional bleed would probably drive them both crazy.
"Hmm," Hermione agreed, blowing lightly on her tea.
"You alright?" Ginny asked softly, coming over to rest an arm on her shoulder. The older girl looked up, smiling gratefully as she felt her concern through their connection.
"I'm okay." She said, pulling her legs up to her chest so her friend could sit with her. "I just…these emotions…your emotions, they're so foreign."
"I know." Ginny agreed. "I just wish I knew what to do. I wish I could…"
"…tell Draco?" Hermione smiled wistfully. She'd been thinking the same regarding her boys, although to do so would be disastrous.
"Yeah." She replied, staring at the grandfather clock in the corner as if it were as interesting as a gold-plated statue. "He just has this…this way of calming me, you know? Like I feel everything's going to be alright, just because he tells me it will be."
"I know." Hermione said gently, staring sadly at the floor. She felt terrible that she didn't have Harry to share this with, that she couldn't look into his eyes and find the compassion and understanding that had helped her through so much in the past. Ginny stroked her hair softly, understanding what she was thinking.
"It'll be okay, Hermione." She whispered, just as the portrait door swung open. Her hand dropped suddenly as her head whipped around.
"There you are!" Came Ron's loud voice as he climbed through. "Where the hell have you been? Harry's been all manner of frantic all day." Despite the gravity of her situation, Hermione turned and smiled at the dark-haired boy as he entered, feeling a wave of affection for him that she could be sure was her own.
"You were worried about me?" She asked softly, meeting his gaze with a small, slight smile. Her looked away slightly bashfully.
"Well, er, of course. You weren't in Potions and I…" He trailed off. "Wait a minute, where in the hell have you been? Ginny! What happened to you in the library?" He regained his composure, coming to stand next to Ron. They both faced the two girls down, standing with their arms crossed, looking stern. She couldn't help but reciprocate the flicker of amusement that Ginny felt, and they both grinned slightly.
"Well?" Ron asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Daphne Greengrass had a fall in the stacks next to me while you were off in the Herbology section, Harry. I had to take her to the hospital wing."
"Right," Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you had to stay there all afternoon? Both of you?" He didn't sound convinced.
"Honestly Harry, she is a senior prefect, and I'm Head Girl. It's not like we were plotting to take over the world." He sighed, seeming to accept their cover story as a wave of relief washed over Hermione.
"I guess." He said resignedly, nodding gratefully at Ginny as she stood up from the sofa, letting him sit down.
"You alright?" Hermione asked, a touch of concern entering her tone as she furrowed her brow. He looked tired, slightly peaky, and even though she'd done nothing wrong she felt instantly guilty for adding to his stress levels.
"I'm fine, it's just been a long afternoon. Especially with Pansy bloody Parkinson spilling her Adficio Solution all over my robes." He threw a hand towards the affected area irritably, where it had stained the black wool, bleaching it slightly.
"That girl is foul." Ginny muttered, a dark look crossing her face. Ron snorted.
"You're telling us? We have to put up with her in lessons and outside of them."
"More's the pity for you." She replied offhandedly. "I'm gonna go back, Hermione, you'll be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine Gin." She replied, giving the girl an encouraging smile. "Have a good evening."
"You too." The other girl winked, before snapping her fingers at her older brother. "Come on, Ron." The boy glared at her for a moment, before rolling his eyes.
"See you later mate, ta ra Hermione." He said by way of farewell. They both half-heartedly waved as he made his way towards the portrait hole. "I'll come and get you for practice in the morning, Harry. Make sure you're up."
"I will be. Make sure you've eaten."
"Ha bloody ha," Ron replied, about to make another retort before the closing of the portrait swiftly silenced him. The quiet immediately following was relaxing, soothing. They sat on the sofa, wrapped in their own thoughts. Hermione could feel the anticipation building from Ginny, her excitement at seeing Draco pouring into her, making her leg twitch nervously. Harry glanced over at the second or third time she did it, raising an eyebrow.
"Erm. Hermione?" He asked, looking pointedly at her foot.
"Oh, it's nothing." She replied quietly, attempting to brush it off. "Just cramp…hey, wait, what are you doing?" She exclaimed, as he reached down and picked her leg up, swivelling her on the spot so that her calf muscle lay over him.
"Shush." He said simply, as his hands drifted to her right foot. Instantly, despite the fact that there wasn't actually any cramp, she felt the muscles relax as he began to knead it gently. She closed her eyes at the sensation and let her head fall back to the arm of the sofa. "Better?" He asked gently, laughing as she murmured.
"Mmm." Suddenly, the fabulous pressure stopped, the wonderful things he was doing to her ceasing as his fingers stopped moving. With a sharp look, she brought her head back up, glaring at him. "Don't stop." She ordered, allowing herself to smile and fall back to her previous position as he carried on.
"Are you still okay to study with me tonight?" He asked hopefully, making her smile grow ever so slightly
"Of course," She murmured. "After dinner. Massage now."
"Yes'm." he joked. Hermione sighed against as the back of her shins began to relax…when had his hands moved up there? She loved the feel of them against her skin, parts of them soft; parts calloused from Quidditch, the combination utterly delightful. Always though, he pressed with the most tender of touches, hitting her nerve points with a pinpoint accuracy she wouldn't have thought he'd possess.
"Where did you learn to do this?" She groaned, shifting to allow him better access to her leg as he continued to half-caress, half-massage her muscles. She could practically hear him grinning as he responded.
"Would it be weird if I said Oliver Wood?" He replied. She cracked an eye open.
"Yes. Very. Explain?" She replied in a stern voice, the possibilities racing through her mind at a rather perverse pace.
Ginny would be shocked. Probably is, come to think of it.
"He used to make us exercise physically, as well as in the air." Harry began, screwing up his face as he imitated his old Captain's thick, Scottish accent "Fit on the ground, fit in the air", he paused to chuckle, glancing at Hermione as she smiled. "After a run in the morning, he'd make us stretch. Sometimes we'd get cramp." He shrugged. "Katie and Angelina taught us all how to massage it out of our muscles, saved a lot of time and pain."
"Remind me to send them a Christmas card next year." She murmured. Harry simply grinned.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
"And you're sure?"
"Positive."
"There can be no room for error, Professor Dumbledore."
"I assure you, Mr. Chang, there is not."
"Please, Professor, refer to me by my rank on an open floo."
"My distinct apologies."
"You must know that very few of us are licensed to study the Separatus curse in detail. It is a banned subject, even within my Department. To hear of its use in a school…well…it is a revelation that will shock many. Not least, in how instructions on its operation came into the hands of the caster."
"I agree, it is most worrying, especially since I believe it was cast under our very noses, during breakfast in the Great Hall."
"Shocking."
"Quite. So what is your answer, Unspeakable? Have you any findings or research that may be of use to us?"
"I might. It will take me several hours to compile and sort recent additions. Perhaps I could schedule an appointment for the day after tomorrow?"
"As soon as you can, these students are only sixteen and seventeen, after all."
"I shall be as quick as possible. We will speak soon." The floo connection closed then, with an abrupt flaring of emerald green flame. Dumbledore sighed before straightening up, walking with a grace and ease that belied his age back to his desk. He had barely managed to pop an Acid Drop into his mouth, before several sharp raps resounded through his office, emanating from the mahogany wood of his door.
"Come in, Severus." Dumbledore answered, waiting only a moment before the dark, imposing figure of his Potions Master swept into the room, the door closing itself behind him. Instantly, one of the silver instruments on his desk whirred and puffed, emitting a faintly argentine wisp of smoke. Snape glared at it.
"Satisfied that I am, in fact, myself?" He asked sarcastically.
"Oh yes, quite." The older man replied. "Take no offence, Severus."
"None has been taken." He replied shortly, before sparing a final glance for the instrument and continuing. "I have completed my examination of the Great Hall, Albus."
"And did you find a signature?" Dumbledore asked, leaning back in his chair to look over his glasses at Snape.
"No," He replied. "Whoever did it was clever enough to mask their output multiple times, and set off a volley of innocuous spellwork at various locations. It was hard enough to pinpoint the area from which the curse had been delivered."
"Which was?"
"The Slytherin table." Snape said, with some distaste. "I have ordered the House Elves to begin Imperius detection charms at night, while the students sleep. And…I feel I must apologise. It is my House, and my responsibility." He added, the anger clear inside his voice.
"It is nobody's fault but the person who cast it." Dumbledore said gently. "There is no blame to apportion, especially not to yourself."
"Thank you, Albus. Did you make any progress with the Department of Mysteries?" Snape reclined in his chair also, one hand scratching his wiry goatee thoughtfully.
"I did, they are dispatching an Unspeakable to us, who will arrive the day after tomorrow." He reported, his eyes unreadable as he stared into the smouldering embers of the fire, the glow illuminating the area immediately around the fireplace with a soft, orange luminescence.
"And that is the soonest they can arrive? Surely they understand the gravity of the situation?" Snape asked, a note of indignation creeping into his voice.
"Rather better than us, I daresay." Dumbledore replied. "You must understand, this curse has not been heard of for hundreds of years. As Unspeakable Chang remarked, for it to be used in a school, at a meal time…it's…"
"Unspeakable?" Snape finished for him, in an exceedingly rare pun.
"Quite." The Headmaster stood then, moving over to the dying fire. With a wave of his hand, it ignited again, burning as fiercely as if it had never dwindled. "The wards are in place?"
"Yes, we will be able to register any spell performed in the Great Hall, including the caster and the wand."
"Excellent." With a clap of his hands, he turned back towards the door. "Then let us go down. All of this nasty business has made me rather peckish."
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
The Astronomy Tower was cold, but Pansy didn't care as she lurked, invisible, under Zabini's old Cloak. She swung her legs idly, having perched herself atop one of the battlements whilst waiting for her to arrive. He was already there, the moonlight reflecting dully off of his flowing, near-white locks as he stood with his hands clasped firmly behind his back, looking out over the grounds as a General would inspect his troops. Despite all that she had suffered at his hands over the last few months, the sheer agony of dealing with her heartache every day, she still felt a small flutter inside her chest at the sight of him. She could taste his scent on the air, admiring his movements as he sometimes paced. They were calm, measured, strong…and there was a fluid sort of grace to them that leant an almost…feline quality to him. With a slight twinge of despair inside her chest, she thought on how good they would have been together. How their children would have inherited poise and etiquette from her, those sharp good looks and noble blood from him.
They would have been beautiful. And now, they wouldn't exist.
The only consolation for her in this miserable, painful series of events was the small measure of revenge she'd visit upon Potter. She'd seen the looks that the mudblood had given him, how he'd returned them, their love so mournfully unrequited, and tragically unrealised. Well, she thought to herself, a wicked grin flashing across her features and seemingly lighting her eyes for a moment before the dead, cold mask returned. Not after tonight, not anymore.
"Draco?" The hated voice came from her side, as her head snapped in that direction. There she was. The vixen, the scarlet woman, the whore. Pansy watched with a detached hatred as she ran to Draco, throwing her arms around his neck, her delight plain for anyone to see. She stared without reaction as he kissed her deeply, watching with impassiveness as she laid her head onto his chest.
She ignored the emotions rolling within her as he lifted her chin tenderly, lowering his mouth to hers with a softness she thought impossible, unnatural. She pretended that she didn't care as the girl smiled against his lips, biting his lower one playfully. She told herself she didn't notice the small grin he gave her back, a look in his eyes that spoke volumes on pure love, plain devotion.
No, she lied to herself that she felt nothing, even as the last remnant of her humanity snapped within her, as she unwittingly took steps towards the stairs. She was numb, yes, that was why she was opening the door silently. That was why she was turning, creating a bubble of silence around her with nonverbal incantations, before she pointed her wand at the two, wrapped in their tender embrace of passion.
"Amortensus." She said, calmly, watching as the faint pink light lanced towards the couple, striking them both without them noticing or even breaking stride. Their kiss increased in fervour, arms coming around each other as Draco's head dipped to her neck.
"Amortensus," She said again, although much more hoarsely this time around, her voice cracking on the third syllable. Her hand began to shake as she felt emotions she'd tried desperately to bury return full-swing at the sight of the couple becoming more frantic in their passions, their attentions to each other. Hands roamed, gasps were elicited, skin was pressed against skin…
She felt her soul breaking, over and over again.
"Amor…amor…" She gasped, fighting back the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes. "AMORTENSUS!" She finally managed to rasp out, before turning, and fleeing down the staircase, leaving the blood-traitor and the man she loved in each other's arms, running wildly under the Cloak, though it couldn't hide the shame and sadness she felt in her heart.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
Dinner had been a subdued affair. Harry and Hermione had sat with Ron, Ginny and Neville at the Gryffindor table, idly chatting over a course of stew and treacle tart. They'd invited Ron back to their quarters afterwards, but he'd deferred, saying he had work to do in the library. Ginny, of course, had gone to meet Malfoy (much to Ron and Harry's annoyance), and so the two had retreated back to the warmth of their study.
"Look, I'm sorry, I just don't get it." Harry said, rubbing his temples as if it would alleviate the oncoming headache he was sure would hit him at any moment. "I know it's something to do with the order of the transformation, but I just don't understand why it's important." He exhaled loudly, throwing his quill down in frustration and ignoring the reproving look Hermione sent him.
"If you're not going to try, I won't bother either Harry." She said sharply, frowning at him as she shifted across the sofa and away. He looked from her face to the table a few times, before sighing and sliding closer to her, putting an arm over the back of the settee as he glanced down at her book.
"You're right, I'm being a child about this." He said apologetically, fighting a grimace at what he saw on the page. Even the citations seemed to have footnotes.
"I'm glad you admit it." She sniffed, before giving him a small, barely-there smile that he returned with one of his own. "Ready to try again?" At his nod, she began her explanation once more. "Okay, essentially, it all links back to the order in which the Animagus transforms, whether he does it from the bottom up, known as a "waxing transformation", or from the top down, known as a "waning transformation". You still with me?" She asked.
"Yeah. Up and down, got it." He answered, shifting slightly closer as she pointed out the diagrams to him. "So how does this affect the transformation?"
"In a number of ways, actually. It's been studied over the years that smaller, land animal forms such as felines, canines and other four legged beasts prefer waning transformations, as the mind finds it easier to adjust with shrinkage and the simulation of falling onto four legs rather than growth…"
"…thus allowing the animal instincts to be suppressed more easily." Harry finished, blushing at the beaming smile she gave him.
"Com…Totally correct." She recovered, ignoring the swooping feeling of elation that swept through her and caused her to stumble over her words. Ginny, she thought irritably. Not now. She cleared her throat before continuing. "Now, the waxing transformations, those are generally favoured by avian forms, and more human-forms such as apes or monkeys. For example, there was a case in Burma, where…"
"Err…Hermione…?" Harry cut in suddenly, earning him an irritated glance from the girl.
"What, Harry? Do you want me to carry on?" She asked sharply.
"Erm…heh, that depends what you mean carrying on with…" He replied awkwardly, and it was in that moment that she glanced down at her hand, realising where she'd placed it, tracing lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. Not, however, near his knee, as if it weren't bad enough already.
"Ohmy!" She jumped, pulling her hand away, before glancing guiltily at Harry.
Which was when it hit her.
She didn't think that in all her life she'd ever been more attracted to him than in that moment. The soft light of their fire played on his skin beautifully, making his eyes glitter with an inner emerald light that was enticing and mesmerising in equal measure. Her gaze slipped from his confused stare, to travel down his face, past the slight shade of stubble on his lips and flushed cheeks to his strong, defined jaw, further down to the hollow of his neck, passing over his flat chest (god, how had she never noticed his body like this before), and back up again, drinking in every detail of him. With a slight tremble, a quiver of desire running through her every few seconds that she wasn't touching him; she placed her hand back where it was.
"I don't think I want to stop." She breathed, her face suddenly inches from his. She felt giddy, the butterflies in her stomach swarming with every over-long moment between them. But she also felt powerful, in control…wanted…as she lowered her lips to the base of his neck. She touched them to his skin lightly, amazing even herself with her audacity as she softly dragged them upwards, just enjoying the sensation of flesh meeting flesh as she made him shudder without even applying any pressure, the heat of her breath leaving goosebumps on his skin where she burned it. She crested the curve of his jawbone and took his earlobe ever-so-slightly in between her lips, raking her teeth gently over the skin and nearly shivering at the wave of pleasure she felt as his breathing turned even more ragged and uneven. "Do you want me to stop?" She asked quietly, in a voice that wasn't her own.
Whatever she was doing to Harry seemed to be working just fine, as he opened his mouth to speak several times, but only managed a kind of strangled noise once. Hermione grinned against his ear and neck, knowing he could feel the movement of her lips on his skin. The next time he opened his mouth to speak, turning his head towards her this time, she moved in and planted her lips firmly on his. Another shot of electricity coursed through her at the sound of his stifled moan, and she physically shivered as his hands came around her back, one pulling her to him and the other resting on the nape of her neck as they kissed, eyes closed and tongues dancing as she pushed him gently back, falling onto him.
It was almost too much for her to bear as she began to move against him, nipping at his lips with short, staccato kisses, feeling more attractive and more wanted than she ever had in her life as she elicited groan after groan from him, her hips grinding slowly, but sensually into his. She couldn't control her own gasp as his hands reached around almost involuntarily to cup her behind, pulling her into him with an instinctive power that made her head feel slightly light. She felt ready to explode as yet another wave of darkest, deepest desire flushed through her, making her toes curl with anticipation as she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, further and further, past his solar plexus, his nipples, and up to his shoulder when she heard his choked, ragged whisper.
"Hermione…" He said, his voice rough and gravelly.
"Shhh," She said, placing a finger to his lips as she planted a trail of kisses across his chest, loving how his ribcage seemed to shudder every time she made contact with it. Faintly, in the back of her mind, she realised that this was it. She was finally kissing Harry, she was actually kissing Harry! But that voice was drowned out by something far more instinctual, something far more primal that drove her to push him backwards, nearly screaming with frustration when he called her name again.
"Hermione…I…is this what you…?" He said, tripping over his words. At another time, she would have found it endearing, cute. But now, it was just getting in the way of what she wanted.
"I want this." She groaned, moving his hands to the buttons of her shirt as she straddled his hips, a short moan escaping her as she began grinding against him again, feeling him through his trousers with a small spike of ecstasy. "I want you…I've wanted you for so long…" He seemed to take the hint her hands were giving him, as she felt her shirt begin to loosen around her chest as button after button popped undone.
"If you want to stop…" He whispered, making a last ditch effort to be a gentleman, even as she guided his hands to push her shirt off her shoulders.
"I've already told you I don't want to." She breathed softly, bending down so her lips were next to his ear.
That seemed to destroy the last of both of their resolves, as they now found themselves crashing through their study, hands grasping wildly for a surface to guide them. She began to feel weak at the knees again as she realised they'd somehow made it to the bed…his bed…and where had their clothes gone?
She seemed to snap back to reality then, her vision blurring slightly before refocusing on two vividly green eyes, heavy-lidded with desire as he leaned in to kiss her, both of them now strangely horizontal as she looked…down at him? The hardest wave of it yet hit her, and she cried out with need as she leant into his body, her moan muffled by his mouth. She didn't really know what she was doing, but she was just following her instinct, something primal inside her that was screaming for release, her hand reaching behind her legs to grasp him as she rose on her knees. Their gaze locked again, and Hermione begged him not to say anything as the next few words tumbled over her lips, aware that they were careening way past that line in the sand they'd so carefully maintained these many years.
"I love you." She said with remarkable clarity, watching his eyes widen before she relaxed her legs, falling gently down onto him with a flash of pain, yes, but something more, something…spiritual.
She felt complete, as the pain began to ease into something much, much different.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
Author's Note:
Hey again,
Well, I hope you enjoyed that. The ending was my first attempt at writing anything like that, really. Normally I prefer suggestion and meaningful endings, but after so many people asking me in reviews and stuff (and, partially inspired by Heather's scene in Laws), I decided to give it a crack. Please be kind :\
Anyway, just wanted to say thank you again for the much more enthused reaction I had to Chapter 2 in terms of people actually leaving feedback :) It's not that I need my ego stroked or anything, it's just that it's nice to know people are reading and enjoying your story ;D
So, the next chapter. It might not be out as quickly as these three were, but I'll endeavour to do it in the next couple of days, anyway. What happens, you might ask? I suppose I can give you a hint. Unspeakables come to Hogwarts, friendships are tested, Dumbledore gives Harry 'the talk', Pansy gets her revenge, Ginny and Hermione have an awkward meeting in the greenhouses and Ron washes his eyes out with chlorine.
Hope to see you for the next installment :) I'd like to send a special shout-out to the people here, for giving me interesting, frequent or in-depth reviews that have tickled me today: Heather11483, Mmbug98841, IVY, Tank03 and lorien829. Thanks guys!
Take care,
- Castledown.