Unofficial Portkey Archive

CHAPTER 21: Of Cold Places and Cold Boys

Luna tried to stop the lion's bleeding but she couldn't touch or affect him. Her hand passed right through him when she tried and his green eyes continued to stare at the horizon, uncaring of the black blood that now matted his fur and soaked the snow beneath him. She followed his gaze to where the icy ground met the blue sky in a thin line.

"What is he waiting for?" she wondered, and then he roared so loudly that she felt jolted. Slowly the scene faded from around her but before she awoke she was certain she heard the howl of a wolf.

Once more Luna started her day with a pounding headache. She tried to sit but the pain blinded her and so she lay down once more, massaging her temples. There was a noise outside her door and she tried to call out but the sound of her voice made the pain worse and so she curled up into a fetal position on the bed.

"Luna… are you alright?" Ron's voice sounded so loud that the world seemed to vibrate around her and she waved at him miserably, gesturing towards her head.

"Oh sorry" he whispered "Got a hangover then?" She laughed at his joke and the pain seemed to dissipate a bit as he sat down beside her on the bed, rubbing her back in a soothing gesture. Despite her discomfort Luna felt a shiver of pleasure pass through her at his touch. "I could hear you moaning from outside. Another headache is it?"

She nodded and he stood, quietly leaving the room. After a while she thought he had abandoned her but then he returned with a glass of cold water, which she eagerly consumed. "Thank you Ronald, that helped" she said softly, setting the empty glass on the bedside stand.

"It always helped me after a bender" he admitted. "You should probably get some medical help though, it seems like the headaches are bad."

She looked at him and was dazzled by the look of concern in his eyes. "I don't think there's any time for that. Perhaps I can ask Draco to make me a potion to help with the pain."

Ron looked away at the mention of Draco, snorting to indicate his disgust. "I wouldn't drink any potion mixed up by that slimy git."

Luna opened her mouth to respond but then thought better of it, closing her mouth once more before deciding on the right words. "Thank you for the water… I'm going to go find Draco and then I suppose we should get to the task Harry left us with."

"Track down an untraceable mad man" Ron sighed, standing up and offering Luna a hand. "I think he might have gotten the easier task, dealing with the Bloody 65th."

"I doubt it" Luna said sincerely as they paced down the dark corridor before them. Not for the first time Luna wondered if there was a single thing that could be done to make the Manor less like a mausoleum. She had some rather whimsical notions when it came to decor, but none of it was likely to make a dent in the icy palace. They fell into silence for some time until she had reached the entrance to Draco's potions dungeon.

"How do you know he's down there?" Ron asked. "It's still pretty early, he might be sleeping."

"If time was running out on your life and the only possible solution was finding a cure would you waste time sleeping?" The question was asked in such a simple and sweet manner that Ron could not help but laugh and he followed her down the stairs. "I didn't expect you to come with me" Luna called over her shoulder as they descended the ever-spiraling staircase.

"I wouldn't want you to deal with Malfoy on your own" Ron said honestly, and although he couldn't see her face she smiled softly. Towards the bottom of the stairs she slipped on a damp patch on the rocks and nearly took a nasty fall forward but Ron rushed forward, grabbing her upper arm and steadying her against the wall. They were very close and he realized she had a sweet floral fragrance about her that he rather enjoyed. There was something soothing about it and he drifted in closer still until he heard her clear her throat and he realized that he had her somewhat cornered.

Blushing so brightly that his face matched his hair he stepped back, allowing her to continue to trek down the stairs. What is wrong with me? he wondered. A few months out of the game and here I am acting like some pervert in front of poor Luna Lovegood. Yet as he followed her down the steps he took the chance to glance at her from the rear and he couldn't help his mind from wandering to more devious thoughts. There's a special place in hell for blokes like me.

"What do you two want?" was Draco Malfoy's immediate reaction to seeing his fellow Hogwarts alumnus. His entire laboratory was alive with bubbling vials of substances and steaming cauldrons. In the midst of it all was an exceptionally large, exceptionally dusty book.

"I've been waking up with the worst headaches every morning" Luna said in a tone that was more pleasant than required. She helped herself to a seat on a nearby stool while Ron chose to stand closer to the doorway, arms crossed defensively across his chest. "I hoped you might have something for it."

To Ron's great surprise Draco did not offer his typical snide response, simply dashing out of the room and into his supply closet only to return with a small jar of herbs which he threw to Luna and she deftly caught. "Brew those into a tea every morning" Draco instructed, returning his attention to the experiments at hand. "That should help."

"Thank-you" Luna said sincerely, standing up and glancing at Draco's work. "Have you been at this all night?"

"Yes, how did you know?" he muttered, still not looking up.

"It takes at least six hours to properly prepare a level one poison detection potion and based on the color of that vial there you're just about at that stage." This caused Draco to look up with surprised look on his face. Luna simply smiled. "I was never the best at potions, in fact I have an aptitude to be a bit clumsy. However, I tend to remember the oddest little details. If you need someone to help you with research, I'd be glad to lend a hand."

"Thank-you" Draco said, the words feeling strange coming from his mouth. He had always thought Luna Lovegood was a total lunatic; occasionally insightful, but mostly mad. She had caught him off guard and he wondered how many of the judgments he had made in his life were mostly wrong. "Harry would appreciate it if you can find the time to help, I'm sure."

"I wouldn't just be doing it for Harry" Luna said and there was a glimmer in her eye reminding him of the words she had shared with him once before; believe it or not, you do have some friends. He tore his gaze away, because in spite of the kindness she had shown it all felt like salt being poured in an open wound. I don't deserve forgiveness, I don't deserve friendship. I certainly don't deserve redemption.

`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry awoke with a sharp intake of air as a brutal pain seemed to be crushing his chest. It subsided after a moment but the motion had already awoken Hermione who had been sleeping peacefully next to him. They had arrived at the snow-covered village in the valley just hours before and as they were slightly ahead of the Bloody 65th they had opted to spend the night at the only bed and breakfast the village had to offer. It was tiny but cozy and the both of them had immediately fallen fast asleep from the excitement of the preceding day.

"What's wrong?" she mumbled, a dark silhouette besides him.

"Nothing" he lied, but of course she could read his tone even in the dark.

"Lumos" she whispered and he squinted against the sudden emergence of the bright light. His hand had automatically moved to the point of pain and she brushed it away without asking, revealing the dark bruise-like mark beneath it. "It's grown" she sighed. "Did you remember to take your potion last night?"

"No" he admitted, sounding like a child nervous of being reprimanded.

"Bloody hell Harry!" she said, swearing with an uncharacteristic fury. She moved across him, half straddling his body as she searched through a bag on the bedside table. In spite of the seriousness of the situation he felt his body react in a rather pleasurable manner, which she undoubtedly noticed but pointedly ignored. Half throwing the small vial at him she moved away, laying back down on the bed but turning her back to him.

Silently he drank the potion and then laid back down, feeling the silence around him press in. It was nearly pitch dark once more and he remembered times as a child when the darkness of the closet that was his bedroom would surround him and he would wonder if that was what it felt like to die. Now he tried to decide if he ought to push his luck by saying something to her or if he should just fall back to sleep. He waited a moment, knowing full well that he could never sleep if she was angry with him and so he listened to her breathing to determine if she had fallen asleep herself. Her breathing is calm and measured, like she wants me to think she's asleep. But she's not. He had listened to her breathing in her sleep many times before they'd actually started sleeping together and he knew that normally her breaths were more shallow and fast paced.

"I'm sorry" he said after a while, deciding that addressing the matter was the right thing to do. "I was just so tired I totally forgot…"

"You can't forget about things like that… it's your life Harry. Sometimes I wonder if you value it."

The words hit him hard. It wasn't as though she was being unfair; his history had suggested many near suicidal feats, and perhaps he hadn't properly expressed to her how much he did indeed want to live. Back at Malfoy Manor she had accused him of avoiding the situation and he knew that he still was. But it was so much easier to avoid than it was to confront. Everything about the past few months had been a whirlwind; from Hermione's life being threatened to discovering that Draco Malfoy may have a shred of humanity in him, to the Burrow burning down, to realizing he was desperately in love with his best friend, to discovering he could control wandless magic… to discovering he might die very soon.

There hadn't been a moment to thoroughly process a single one of these emotions. Which was fine; Harry had always felt that processing emotions was a waste of time. The Dursleys certainly never stood for it, and neither had Albus Dumbledore in many ways. There was what needed to get done, and that was what Harry Potter excelled at focusing his attention on. Emotions were messy distractions.

But now he was in a real relationship and it meant everything to him to try to make her happy. He knew he was doing a bloody awful job of it (what with the whole secret battle thing and the whole dying thing) but he did not want to ruin what he had with Hermione just because he was bad with expressing his feelings. His limited ability to process emotions was what had ended things with Ginny, and he was already afraid that it would have the same results with Hermione. The difference this time was that he could never live without Hermione; he had never been able to in the first place.

He took in a long breath and then said the only thing he could think to say, "I'm scared."

Those two words hit Hermione like a hurricane. She expected him to explain his feelings away as he always had, or perhaps turn his back and become evasive until the conversation slipped into obscurity. Instead he said the two words that the masses never believed the courageous Harry Potter would ever say, and she realized he was trying to make himself vulnerable to her. Somehow it was a more romantic gesture than any proclamations of love he could make. She leaned into him then, running her hand along the stubble of his chin to find his mouth in the dark, and she kissed him passionately, as though her embrace could somehow erase his problem, heal his wounds. She felt him relax back against the mattress and she was half on top of him now, his hand rested on her waist as her embrace subsided into soft butterfly kisses scattered across his face.

His fears weren't erased, but for the moment he seemed to let them go from his mind. She thought of all the times she had seen fear and anger and doubt in his eyes. All those times when he had just been a boy and the world had been stacked on his shoulders and he'd had to hide all of his concerns so he could go on being the hero they needed instead of the child he was. It had made her feel special to know that she was one of the few people in the world whom he trusted with his secrets, trusted to show his emotions to. At the same time though, it had been a heavy burden on herself to know that all of those times, she could do her best to be at his side and keep him safe, but she could never truly alleviate those pains he carried. Now she finally had a way to help make him forget for a while.

I should have just kissed him the first time it occurred to me she pondered as she removed her nightgown.

The first time she had ever thought to kiss him… really kiss him, not just a peck on the cheek…. had been during third year when he'd thought he'd seen his father only to discover that it had been himself he'd seen; his father was in fact still very much dead. The sheer disappointment and despair in his gaze at admitting to himself that he had gotten his hopes up for nothing had broken her heart in two. She had never seen someone look so alone, so distant. And while she had always harbored a small crush on him, it was in that moment that she longed wholeheartedly to kiss him, if only to remind him that he wasn't alone and that everything would be all right.

"Everything will be alright" she whispered in the dark, but it was more for her own benefit than his. Because even as the words came from her mouth, she felt like a liar.

`'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Bloody git, he's such a smug little arsehole. I should turn him into fucking ferret again…"

"That sounds kinky" Ginny said, emerging from one of Malfoy Manor's many shadows as Ron stalked by.

The tips of Ron's ears turned red and he glared at his sister who responded with a look of innocence. "Shut up you" she grumbled, embarrassed by being caught talking to himself.

"What's your latest drama with our sulky blonde friend?" she asked, following Ron into the kitchen where he promptly fell to his favorite coping mechanism; eating.

"He's not our friend."

"Frenemy?"

"Try just plain enemy thank-you" Ron mumbled as he bit into an apple.

"I think Harry would disagree. We're supposed to all be working together while Harry is off dealing with the Bloody 65th."

"I'd rather deal with the Bloody 65th than deal with that bastard."

"You really did inherit Mum's genes for drama, do you know that? And you didn't answer my question, what has he done this time to piss you off? Or is it simply the mere thought of his existence that you have such difficulty with?"

"He's down there in his cold dungeon doing his whole wounded animal routine."

"Aaaaand why exactly does this have your knickers in a twist?"

"It pisses me off because you girls fall for it! It's so cliché and obvious, he just lowers those grey eyes of his and lets that silver hair he has fall across his brow and talks in that brooding, reluctant hero tone…"

"It sounds like YOU are the one falling for it" Ginny quipped, narrowly dodging the apple core he chucked at her.

"You know what I mean! I just don't get why she feeds into his ego, it's already bigger than Umbridge's arse…"

"Oh and by SHE do you mean the lovely and whimsical Miss Lovegood?"

"I uh… what I mean to say is… I'm just looking out for her, she's a nice girl and shouldn't be mucking about with the likes of Draco Malfoy!"

"Ah you're `just looking out for her' then. You're such a good friend Ronald" Ginny snidely replied, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You like her Ron! Why can't you just admit that you like a girl?"

"I've liked many… many girls" Ron said, emphasizing the word "many" in a rather lewd and unnecessary manner. "What I feel about Luna is different. She's like… a friend to me."

"Well you really shouldn't spend so much time checking your `friend' out" Ginny responded with a smug grin.

Now Ron's entire face matched the color of his hair. "I don't check her out."

"No, your eyes are just naturally magnetized to her lady bits. Listen Ron, I don't know why you're having trouble admitting you like her. I see the way she makes you laugh and smile, and the fact that you clearly find her attractive is even better!"

"I'm not sure how to… I can't just…"

"What, ask her on a date? Granted, the timing isn't great given that we're in the middle of all sorts of death, destruction and mayhem. But if you wait for a time of peace to come along, you might be waiting forever. You're Harry's best friend- you may never know peace." She had not expected what had started as lighthearted banter to turn sour so quickly, but the words had escaped from her mouth before she could stop them.

Ron seemed to see the regret in her eyes at her verbiage, and he did not seem shocked by her words. "I know what it is to be in Harry's life" he said softly. "We all do."

"I'm sorry Ron, I didn't mean it to sound like I was speaking poorly of him. I love Harry… you know that."

"Yes, and Harry would be the first to agree that loving him often leads to pain, and loss, and misery. But we love him all the same don't we? He teaches us to be better and stronger. He shows us how to be heroes, and that's why we keep fighting. Because Harry isn't the only hero anymore, we all are, even when we try to pretend we're not."

"Is it okay for heroes to be afraid?" Ginny asked, and suddenly the sarcastic, firecracker persona she put on crumbled and Ron immersed her in a warm, brotherly hug. Ron had never been cool like Bill or Charlie, or funny like the twins, or book smart like Percy. He had undoubtedly been the brother Ginny fought with the most due to their closeness in age, and yet he was secretly her favorite brother. His protectiveness, albeit irritating at times, was well intentioned and he had a genuine goodness about him that he had tried to hide after the war but she had slowly been watching re-emerge as of late. She sniffed and moved away from him. "Is that why you won't ask her on a date? Is it because you're afraid?"

"I suppose so" he admitted, letting his careless playboy act dissolve. "I mean… I guess you're right, I really do like her. I enjoy being around her and I like the way she smells and her odd view on life. She's funny but she's also bloody brilliant and her figure is…"

"I get it Ron, you have a crush!" Ginny laughed, enjoying the sensation of laughter after their fleeting moment of darkness. "So what are you afraid of then?"

"I'm afraid I'm not good enough for her. There's something pure about her, something that even being a prisoner in this hellhole of a house couldn't destroy. But I've been nothing but a slag since the war ended. It was easier for me to play the war hero by going to parties and sleeping with girls than it was for me to accept what the war really meant; what I'd really lost and what I'd have to live with in my memories. It was cowardly and cheap. What good could she see in me?"

"She already sees plenty good in you Ron. I can tell by the way she looks at you, the way she says your name. You're always doubting that you're good enough, you put on this bloody ridiculous act to overcompensate but Luna sees through it, and you're lucky to have that! You're more lucky than you even know."

"So… what are you saying?" he asked, still not quite understanding her point.

"I'm saying ask her on a date you thick-headed git! Maybe one good thing can come of this phase in our lives. The training and fighting has been a nightmare, but sometimes it takes a nightmare to wake us up."

`'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Luna was neatly dicing up some rowan when Draco suddenly spoke, startling her from a rather nice daydream she was having about playing with a litter of kneazles. After she had offered to help he had given her a long list of instructions and she had gotten to work. Several hours had apparently passed since then and they had not spoken a word to one another.

"Is your headache gone?" he asked, his tone so soft it was barely above a whisper.

"Yes, thank-you. Ever since we started learning Mental Channeling I've been having the most vivid dreams at night and I wake up with these awful headaches."

"But you haven't been able to do wandless magic" Draco noted, not looking up from the mortar and pestal at which he was laboring away.

"No, and I don't even know that the two are connected. I do feel awful though… not being able to Channel."

"Join the club" Draco said with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't understand why…"

"According to Harry it's because I don't control my emotions, I just avoid them. You need strong emotions to Channel. Apparently I just don't have any of those."

Luna paused a moment, looking up from her work. "What I was going to say is, I don't understand why I haven't been able to Channel yet. I do have rather strong emotions, beneath this calm demeanor."

There was a joking tone to her words and Draco's lips quirked into a half smile. "Well, as Harry frequently and redundantly reminds us all, Channeling is different for everyone. I imagine there's some people who will never be able to Channel, no matter how hard they try."

Luna frowned, turning her back to him once more and resuming her cutting and dicing with a bit more energy than necessary. What if I never learn? she thought desperately. How can I help my friends if I can't Channel? What if they ask me to leave, what if they realize I'm no good to them, just some tag-a-long?

"I don't think the rowan did anything to deserve that" Draco commented and Luna suddenly realized that she was battering the herb into a paste.

"Sorry" she said softly, and scooping the herbs up on her hands she brought them over to Draco, dropping them into the mortar bowl.

He gestured as though he was immediately going to resume his grinding, but then he stopped. "What's wrong?" he asked, feeling strange asking those caring words. It felt like he was trying out an extreme fashion change and he felt self-conscious and unsure. Still, somehow it felt right. It's what Harry would do he realized and that realization made him feel even more uncertain.

"I'm worried that I'll be one of those people who can't Channel and all I'll get for my efforts are these headaches."

"You get a headache whenever you try to Channel?" Draco asked, frowning.

"Yes… it's probably just because I'm straining myself."

"What, like pulling a muscle in your brain?" Draco asked, his tone doubtful. "Did you mention this to Harry?"

"No, I didn't think it would matter."

"Maybe it doesn't. But maybe it does. Tell me about the dreams you've been having."

Luna described the wounded lion in the snow, staring into the distance. It sounded rather ridiculous upon the re-telling so she added, "it feels like I'm there, like it's real. But the lion doesn't scare me… actually, he doesn't even seem to realize I'm there."

Draco stopped what he was doing suddenly and looked at Luna, a strange expression on his face. "Luna, did you ever take divination at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I rather enjoyed it but I had no knack for it. Why, do you think the dreams mean something?"

"I don't know. I hated the class; I thought Trelawney was a total nut case. And my father always said… well it doesn't matter what he said. Anyways, Harry told me that sometimes Mental Channeling can manifest psychic powers. That was why he believed the dreams I planted in his head; he thought Mental Channeling was giving him the sight."

"You think I have the sight?" Luna asked, pondering the implications of his words.

"I have no idea. But a lion who bleeds black and its waiting in the snow… Harry is in a cold place and he's wounded… and he's a Gryffindor. And you started having these dreams before he was injured and before he left right?"

Luna nodded, her mind racing at the possibility. How did it not occur to me before that the lion with green eyes might be Harry Potter? Of course, she'd never been psychic before, and she had no reason until now to believe that was a skill that a person could suddenly manifest.

"Luna" Draco said, and hearing her name snapped her away from her reverie. "It could all be a load of shit, but if there's any chance you have psychic abilities we need to figure it out. This could be the break we've been looking for. We've always been a step behind Damon, but this could put us a step ahead. You could save us all." Luna felt a swelling of hope at the thought. "Go to the library and find out as much as you can about divination and dreams."

Luna began to race off, but Draco called her back before she could start her ascent of the lethal dungeon steps. "Send Weasley down to help me."

"Ron?" Luna asked, imagining how very wrong things could go if those two were left to their own devices. The first thing that popped into her mind was Draco lecturing Ron on the proper way to dice herbs and Ron attacking Draco with the knife.

"Fuck no" Draco spat, clearly imagining a very similar outcome. "I meant Ginny."

`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

When Hermione woke up in the morning the bed was cold and it was clear that Harry had slipped out a couple hours ago. She sighed and got herself ready for a day for which she wasn't really sure what to expect. After dressing she parted the drab curtains of the tiny room and looked out to the sleepy village of ramshackle homes, which she could barely make out through the sheets of heavy snow that had started to descend. In other circumstances, there might have been something romantic about this scenario. They were shacked up together in a cozy bed and breakfast far removed from the stresses of civilization and surrounded by picturesque mountains and beautiful snow.

Despite all this, the fact that Harry was slowly dying, they were in the process of fighting an immortal enemy, and they were trying to hunt down a group called "the Bloody 65th" there was very little about the scenario that was romantic. She sighed and pressed her face against the glass, feeling the cold chill against her forehead. The window instantly fogged up with her warm breath, and her view of the outside became fully obscured.

What am I doing? she wondered, allowing herself a moment of self doubt in his absence. I spent years denying my feelings for him and it was for a good bloody reason. She hid it well, but most of the time she existed in a state of barely repressed fear and anxiety. She had once told Ron that she'd cease to exist if Harry died; that so much of her had become entangled with him that she didn't know who she would be without him. But now that she knew what it was to be in love with him and have him love her in return it was so much worse. Now that she had seen him gaze passionately at her from his side of the bed, now that she had felt his lips on hers, now that she had witnessed him at his most vulnerable... there was no going back. She was completely consumed in him and he was dying.

I should be looking for a cure, not chasing some bloody army across the arctic tundra. We could go back now… we could find a cure and then run away someplace far away where Damon would never find us. We could grow old together.

She had never been able to picture Harry with grey hair. She had never even been able to picture him as a father, even though she'd always imagined he would be great at it. The issue was, she couldn't get past the feeling that he would die young. Do I always have to be right about every fucking thing?

She closed the curtains in a single frustrated motion. She was stalling, pulling herself together. She needed to be strong for him. She needed to believe they'd find a way to save him. She had always saved him in the past, and she needed to believe it would happen again. That was the only way to keep her sanity in tact. I need to have hope, even when it hurts to hope.

She also needed to remember that there were far bigger things happening than her and Harry. They needed to save the world again, and that goal needed to be paramount to everything else. That didn't mean that she couldn't want everything else, such as a normal romantic weekend away with him, or a stable plan to grow old together… to have kids together.

I'm getting ahead of myself she realized, and deciding she had stalled for long enough she set out to find the man who was her greatest love and her greatest curse.

The bed and breakfast was less like an actual inn and more like someone's dusty home with a room to rent. Thus there was no desk attendant to speak with in regards to inquiring about Harry's whereabouts. Instead she used a unique little spell that she had invented years ago during the horcrux hunt. In fact, it was the first spell she had ever invented on her own. A modified "Point Me" spell for which she had found a way to adapt it to seek Harry's magical signature. She had always been worried about losing track of him, or that he might get all noble and try to run off without her in the night and so she had found a way to track him down. Of course, it only worked if he was within a 5-kilometer radius, which she presumed he currently was.

Sure enough the wand spun in her hand when she tried the spell, and pointed her out the door and into the frigid snow. The village had some sort of charm that kept the streets from amassing too much snow, but as soon as the wand lead her past the edge of town she found herself wading through drifts that went up past her knees. She had to use a few spells to clear the way until she finally came upon a ridge the overlooked a campground settled far below.

The Bloody 65th she thought instinctually, straining to make out the shapes of people walking from tent to tent. From here they looked like ants. She had been shocked to find out that the Bloody 65th was real. Now she had the evidence before her eyes, but it was still a hard concept to accept. The idea of a band of rogue, rough and tough wizards and witches that had been fighting perceived evils for hundreds of years was rather absurd. Then again, the idea of three teenagers continuously foiling the plans of one of the most powerful dark wizards of all times was also rather absurd.

As Hermione scanned the cliff for a way to descend from the ridge where she was standing she was swiftly attacked from behind. She barely heard the crunch of snow behind her before she felt a stunning spell hit her back, giving her the sudden sensation of numbness as the world around her went black.

`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Ginny lacked Luna's photographic memory for all things potions related, but she was a bit less clumsy and Draco had found her able to follow his directions in an adequate manner. After coming down to the dungeon she had shot him a sort of smug look before asking what he wanted her to do. His dastardly male mind thought of requesting some rather obscene things, just to see how she would react, but given the seriousness of the situation he had instead relegated her to the list of tasks that Luna had abandoned. Since that time they had not spoken, which Draco found surprising. He knew very little about Ginny Weasley, but he certainly knew that she was anything but quiet.

"I've finished everything on the list" she said, startling him from his work. He looked up at her and she seemed tired. There were bags under her eyes and a stray piece of hair had managed to find its way loose from her ponytail. He had a strange compulsion to tuck it behind her ear for her, but he supposed that was just his own exhaustion speaking. "What else do you need me to do?"

"I'm actually about to try my first experiment if you'd like to watch" he offered, standing up from his lab stool and cracking his neck loudly.

"I don't know… will it be gross?"

"Hopefully not" he responded with a frown. "And I suppose I could use a hand."

"Sure" she responded, smiling slightly at his distressed look. "What do you need me to do?" He handed her a beaker of a bright green liquid and a dropper and began to remove his shirt. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"You don't want me to answer that," he said, matching her sarcasm perfectly. He sat back down on the stool and for the first time she got a really good look at the black poison spreading beneath his skin.

"Oh fuck," she whispered, her hand drifting to his chest automatically. He did not pull away, remembering when she had healed his bruises and the strange sensation he had experienced. He wondered if he would feel it again, and sure enough he did as soon as her fingertips grazed across his skin. It was like a faint crackling of electricity. "Does it hurt?"

"Occasionally" he answered, realizing how close they were in that moment. He wondered what would happen if he tried to kiss her. He supposed she would hex him mercilessly and then Ron would double that when he found out. You shouldn't be thinking about kissing girls he admonished himself, the voice in his head sounding strangely like Lucius Malfoy. "The potion Pomfrey made has been slowing the effects but every now and then I get a sharp pain and it's hard to breathe. I imagine it will get a lot worse over time."

"Harry must be experiencing the exact same thing" she pondered and he quickly pulled away from her. Of course that's why she cares. She's thinking about Harry. He was the one who saved her from the chamber, the place where my own father sent her. Why should she ever care about me in comparison to him?

"So, what do you want me to do?" she asked, a tinge of irritation in her tone.

"Use the dropper and put a small drop on the afflicted part of my skin." She did as commanded and then they both just stood there, not speaking but simply waiting to see if there was any change. At first he felt nothing, but then he experienced a burning sensation that began as a tingling feelings and grew into a feeling of acid burning through his flesh. "It fucking burns" he admitted, gritting his teeth and clenching the edges of the chair.

Ginny quickly grabbed a damp cloth and wiped the potion from his skin, instantly ending his pain. "Not so much as a tiny blister" she admonished. "You're a bit of a wimp."

"You don't know what it felt like" he retorted in a childish tone very similar to the one he had used back in their Hogwarts days. She smiled in spite of herself. "It doesn't matter though, it didn't work. Yet another thing I've failed at."

She rested her hand on his bare shoulder and her touch was cool and soft. He felt himself relax a bit and when he turned to look at her he realized that once more they were quite close and once more he imagined what would happen if he tried to kiss her. This is utter foolishness he told himself, still not looking away from her or breaking her contact on his skin. You're acting like a schoolboy with a crush. I may be many things, but a schoolboy is not one of them.

No, Draco was far from innocent and not just in the obvious Death Eater ways. He had lost his virginity to Astoria Greengrass at the end of fifth year after a short and dreadful attempt at dating Pansy Parkinson (who was entirely into women as it turned out). His fling with Astoria had turned into an infatuation of two young, hormonal teenagers trying to figure out how to make things work properly through a series of experiments in every broom closet, empty room and quiet field possible. Then he was tapped by Lord Voldemort to murder Albus Dumbledore, and every pureblood Slytherin family, including the Greengrass family, knew that Draco was marked by Voldemort and that the Malfoy family was being put to the test. Needless to say, Astoria would no longer to glance his way, much less fuck him.

Of course, that didn't mean that there weren't other girls to line up. While the Greengrass family wished to distance themselves from the ongoings of the Death Eaters, there were other families who admired the Malfoys, who saw Lucius and Narcissa as Voldemort's most trusted associates. The reality couldn't be further from the truth, but the whole thing did give Draco a certain appeal for a certain type of girl. There were all sorts of silly rumors about how Voldemort was grooming Draco to become the heir to his legacy, or about how Draco was the "Chosen One" for the dark side of magic.

In the midst of his fear for his family, his angst about having to kill one of the greatest wizards to ever live, and his monumental cloud of self-doubt, Draco found that the easiest escape was a good shag. Thus he had experienced a rather busy sixth year, and an even busier seventh year when everyone in the Slytherin House believed he had bested Albus Dumbledore in a one-on-one duel or some such nonsense.

Then the war had ended and he had gone into hiding. There had been a few admirers who had called upon him over that time, but it had been a while since he'd felt the warm touch of a woman. Maybe that's why I'm reacting this way to Ginny fucking Weasley. I haven't gotten laid in nearly a year!

This cleared his mind and he turned away from her. "Time to get back to work."

`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Hermione slowly reawakened to a room that was a bit too warm. She could smell burning wood and hear the snap and crackle of flames, and for a moment she thought she was going to burn alive. Slowly she opened her eyes and realized she was lying on a cot in a massive tent that was adorned with flags from various nations. In the middle was a large fire pit, the smoke swirling magically up towards a circular hole at the tent's peak.

Logic instantly told her she'd been captured by the Bloody 65th, and given Harry's history with them she should be in no real danger. Still, Hermione had experienced enough horror in her short life to know that assuming one was safe was always a bad move. Thus she pretended that she was still unconscious when she heard the approaching sound of feet.

"First Punisher shows up and now we've got this unnamed lass spying on us" said a deep male voice with a thick Scottish accent. "We aren't doing a very good job of hiding our camp."

"He doesn't like to be called that" admonished a soft female voice. The woman's tone was so silky that it almost sounded like a seductive whisper. "And you know he is perfectly adept at doing whatever he pleases. As for the `lass', I'm surprised you don't recognize her."

"She work with us before?" the Scottish man asked, confused.

"Well she certainly didn't suck your ugly cock" said a harsh tone, clearly American by the accent. "I don't recognize her and I don't know why she's still alive. I thought we were supposed to be keeping our location a secret?"

"You should watch your language, we've got a lady in our presence" the Scot said in a warning tone. For a moment Hermione thought he was referring to her and was afraid that they'd realized she was awake. Then she realized he was talking about the woman with the soft voice.

"Eh, go fuck yourself Bearnard. If Jiao has a problem with my language she can speak up." The verbiage was clearly a jest at Jiao's soft-spoken nature, but if she was offended she did not indicate so verbally.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" the Scot (who she know realized was called Bearnard) asked.

"There's a little rumor going around that Punisher is paying us a visit. Why wasn't I informed?"

"I am not required to inform you of anything" Jiao responded, her tone still pleasant and even. "He came to speak with me, not you."

"Well if that fucker decides to speak with you again, tell him that if I see his ugly face I am going to tear him a new asshole."

Bearnard laughed hysterically, his laughter a booming tone that seemed to shake the walls of the tent. "Oh, is that so Jay? I'll go find him and tell him myself. I'm sure he'll be shaking in his boots at the very thought of the likes of you squaring up with him. Have you already forgotten why we call him Punisher? Do you remember all those people he killed, how he severed their hearts and..."

"Shut your fucking mouth Bearnard, or else I'll…."

"Or else you'll what?" asked a calm voice that Hermione instantly recognized. Her eyes snapped open and for the first time she gazed upon the faces of those who she had been listening to. Jiao was a tall and elegant Chinese woman with jet-black hair pulled back in long ponytail that reached her hips. Bearnard was a massive hulk of a man with a thick red beard and a crooked nose. Jay was even larger with a neck as wide as Hermione's torso and a clean shaved skull. All of them had turned to look at their newest guest, who was none other than Harry Potter.

"This is what I was trying to tell you before" Jiao sighed, a slight look of mischief crossing her smooth features. "Our guest here is Hermione Granger, close friend and associate of Harry Potter, whom you all know as Potter the Punisher."

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