The Darkness

The Darkness

Chapter Six - Oblivious

Say what you mean, mean what you say

Don't go and throw our love away

God strike me dead if I did you wrong

This is not a love song

Are you just being kind?

Am I losing my mind?

~ Prince and Madonna (Love Song)

~*~

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! We are going to be late, again!" Hermione yelled, her hands on her hips and her foot stamping with each word. She could hear the snores emanating from the other side of the door. She wasn't feeling well that morning and she hated being late.

Mrs. Weasley walked by carrying a large basket with fresh linens. "Is he being difficult dear? Best get the twins to wake him," she said, offering the young woman a smile.

Hermione forced a smile of her own; if you just let us share a room like my parents do I'd have had him awake already. She loved visiting the Weasleys, but sometimes she just couldn't wait to be back home in her own flat. She waited until Mrs. Weasley had gone down the stairs at the end of the hall and pulled out her wand and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The door clicked open and she snuck inside the orange Chudley Cannons nightmare that was Ron's room. Then again, maybe it's a good thing I don't sleep in here. Looking down at the sleeping, snoring and slightly drooling form of her fiancé, Hermione smiled. She did love the fool and even if he was a complete idiot, he was her idiot.

Though, that wasn't really fair. Ron worked for the Ministry as an Obliviator. He found that not only was he wonderful with Memory Charms, he had this uncanny ability to give people amazingly detailed stories to remember. He would come home at night and share some of his finer work with Hermione and it always made her smile. Her favourite was when he told a group of Muggles that what they had just witnessed was a rare solar flare that actually made contact with the earth, when in fact it had been a case of an underage Muggle-born witch doing natural magic and blowing up her bicycle. She was seven and quite upset that her parents wouldn't buy her a new one, so she conveniently got rid of the old, though she didn't realize she had intentionally blown it up. Ron was tired of all the 'gas explosion' stories and felt it was his civic duty to make the Muggles lives more interesting. Merlin, she loved him.

Hermione found her life to be rather relaxing, other than her friends getting killed and her fiancé still unable to make a commitment on the date for their wedding. Hermione was a writer and freelance research assistant for the Ministry. She was currently working on a revision to Hogwarts, A History, but she was also involved in the research on the death of Ginny. She wanted to head it, but the powers-that-be insisted she was too close to the family to be impartial. She didn't fight them because she knew they couldn't watch over her since she mainly worked from home.

Slipping into bed beside him, she smiled and traced her thumb over his freckled cheek. She then leaned in and brushed her lips over his forehead and toward his ear. "RONALD! GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF BED NOW!"

Ron jumped and fell out of bed. When Hermione looked over the edge, she smiled down at him. "Thanks, love. I might have overslept," he said, giving her a lopsided smile.

~*~

The pair arrived at Hogwarts just after the students had left breakfast for their classes and the Great Hall was blissfully silent. Hermione pulled out rolls of parchments and set up at the end of the Gryffindor table close to the High table. Ron helped her by pulling out quills and ink pots. When Minerva entered, they were both very engrossed in their work.

"Well, I'm pleased that I made a good choice in appointing you both for this job." She beamed at her former students as she glided over to them, taking a seat across from the young couple. "So what have you come up with so far?"

Hermione began, "Well, considering we aren't sure of the exact dates, we have to go with the idea of one hundred sixty-four years. Does that sound right?" She looked up waiting for McGonagall's nod of approval. "Good, I think it would be best to do it this weekend. I feel that with everything taken into consideration, it would be prudent."

Minerva smiled and Ron gave them both a look of complete madness. "It's a bloody party, Hermione, not a stake out."

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall admonished, "is that kind of language necessary?"

He lowered his eyes and muttered, "No ma'am."

Hermione ignored the exchange and continued with her information. "We felt it would be nice to decorate using all the house colours. What do you think, Professor?"

"I think it sounds lovely, Albus loves everything to be so colourful. He will be pleased." She patted Hermione's hand and stood up. "I have a class in fifteen minutes. I trust you two will be fine on your own. Remember, this is a surprise." She turned and left as swiftly as she entered.

Ron unrolled a parchment with a list of supplies they would need. He began to double check the numbers for Hermione. The curly haired woman was lost to her own work, writing up invitation lists. Their work continued in relative silence until some of the students began wander in for lunch. They ignored the couple and sat at a distance, only passing curious whispers.

When the smell of food reached Ron, he began to feel his stomach rumble. "Want to take a break? We haven't eaten since breakfast."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You just ate some biscuits and a bowl of grapes. Honestly, I have no idea where you store it all." She gave him a loving look which quickly turned to one of disgust as the aroma of beef stew drifted toward her. Her face turned a pale shade of green and she bolted from the Great Hall. Ron quickly gathered up their things and ran after his soon to be bride.

~*~

He found her coming out of one of the girls bathrooms, her face pale and damp. He dropped the bags and ran to her. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She gave him a weak smile, "I-I think so. It was just the smell of all that food, it just made my stomach turn. Maybe I have a virus?"

"Do you want me to take you to Madame Pomfrey?" he asked. His face eager and scared for her. "Or I could take you home to mum, she'll fix you up."

She smiled weakly, "No, Ron, I'll be okay. Besides, I need to look something up in the library for Harry. I'm still trying to figure out what attacked him and Ginny. It really just doesn't make any sense." She began to walk toward the library, talking as if she hadn't just thrown up everything she'd eaten in the past lifetime.

"Did I tell you I contacted Gringotts? The goblins were quite helpful, but I think that is only because they cannot afford to have bad press." She said in a matter-of-fact voice. "They think that someone on the inside fed them the wrong information. The problem is narrowing it down. Because of their secrecy rules, there are so many people that work in an investigation of a tomb before the curse breakers are even brought near it. Currently they are trying to decipher who or what was even in the tomb."

They entered the library and took their favourite table. Some things never change. Ron looked into her eyes as she sat down and noticed something in them that made him thrill. "You know what was in that tomb, don't you?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Not yet, but I'm positive I'm heading in the right direction." Reaching a hand across the table she touched his arm. "I'll figure out what killed her, Ron, if not for her and Harry, then for you."

Standing up, she disappeared among the stacks only returning when she could no longer carry anymore books. Ron had been staring out the window and debating if he should go visit Harry when a book fell on his lap. He looked at it and smiled. "I guess you want me to stay, then."

She smiled back; the book was Flying with the Cannons.

~*~

Draco entered the library that afternoon looking for a book to curl up with that night. He wanted to take a break from his latest painting and felt a nice night by the fire reading was exactly what he needed. Spying Hermione and Ron, he headed over and stood behind the curly haired woman. He began to play with her hair, admiring the sheen and curl. "You realize that there are Muggle women who pay money to stylists put chemicals in their hair to look just like this."

She turned and smiled up at the blonde exclaiming, "Draco! How lovely to see you. Sit, we are just looking into Harry's accident." She pat the chair beside her.

Ron gave him a nod and continued reading. He and Draco still weren't what you would call friends, they merely tolerated each other.

Draco took the seat that Hermione had proffered and held his urge to say something snarky to Weasel about the book he was reading. It was hard, so he was thankful when Hermione distracted him by shoving a book in his face.

"See this map? This is Karnak and here is the Sacred Lake." She then pulled out a parchment with another map on it. "Now look at this map I received from Bill. This is the tomb that Harry and Ginny were in. It's as though someone had wanted it hidden." The spot she was pointing to was in the far corner beyond the lake. "Bill said the entrance was almost hidden under the wall, they had to dig under it to even reach the doorway."

Draco pulled the parchment and the book close. "It's as though it was..." his voice trailed off as he was lost in the thoughts and possibilities. He looked up and met Hermione's chocolate eyes. "The tomb is older then Karnak itself." She nodded and then turned green. Draco watched her, not sure if maybe he had done something wrong, when she ran from the room. He turned to Ron, silently expecting an answer.

He waved his hand, dismissing Draco. "She's been blowing chunks all day. Think it's stomach flu."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "And you don't feel the need to follow her?"

"I did last time and she didn't seem to need me."

Draco only shook his head, slowly. He would never understand their relationship. When Hermione returned a few minutes later she apologized and explained what Ron had said. Draco gave her a dubious look. "I think you should go home and lie down."

She was about to protest but felt her stomach roll again and thought better of it. Conceding, she gathered up her things as Ron helped her by putting away her books. Suddenly she grabbed Draco's arm. He thought she was upset, but when he saw the maniacal smile on her face he knew he was in trouble. "I need a favour."

Again, his eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. "A favour? What kind of favour?"

She gave him the smile that always melted his soul. "Draco, you know I'm not on the best terms with Snape."

He didn't think his eyebrows could go any higher. "Oh and you think he adores me?"

"No, but you know how to get into his office and he has books I could use. Please, Draco, for Harry."

She knew his weakness, damn...does everyone know? "What do you need?"

She smiled, "Information. Anything you can find out about daemons and Karnak and..." she thought for a moment, "...early Persian and Sumerian customs and beliefs, specifically daemons."

"That's a long list but I'll try my best." He gave her a smile and kissed her cheek.

"Off my girl, Malfoy," Ron said from behind them.

When Draco turned around, Ron actually had a lopsided smile on. "Well then marry her before she I whisk her away, Weasel."

Ron sidled up to Hermione and put his arm around her. "I just may do that."

~*~

That night Draco and Harry snuck down to Snape's office. "Are you sure about this, Malfoy?" Harry muttered behind him.

"Yes, now be quiet so I can work on breaking his wards." Draco hissed.

Harry shuffled back and forth, nervously. "Why not just ask him if we can look at his books? He'd probably just let us." Draco turned and gave Harry a dark gaze. "Okay, so he'd let me, but I don't see how breaking into his office is a smart thing."

Draco didn't answer; he only pushed the door open and entered the room. He wandered over to the fireplace and lit it, bringing the room to life. He then began to peruse the shelves looking for what they needed. He was determined to help Hermione and even more so, to help Harry.

Thinking about Harry, Draco looked up to the door and spied the raven haired man standing there. Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, you're twenty four years old. When are you going to get over your 'do the right thing' Gryffindor mentality and embrace that 'sneaky' Slytherin side you like to tell me about? I'm beginning to think you have been lying to me about the Sorting Hat all these years. I'm beginning to think that you like to tell that story to make us all think you are cool....even though I know the truth!"

He sneered at Harry and then turned his back on the Gryffindor as he began to browse Snape's collection of books.

"Wow, the Prince of Darkness likes his evil tomes." Draco commented, cocking his head to read the title of a very large blood red book.

Harry just watched from the doorway. Granted, he and Snape had a better relationship than they did when he was a student. Granted, he was a grown man and this was ridiculous, but he couldn't imagine in a million years, Severus Snape appreciating Malfoy just waltzing into his office and looking thru his books, let alone Harry Potter.

He glared at Draco for his comments, "Well, we all can't have your natural ability to ooze popularity. I mean, why would I lie over something as horrible as almost being a Slytherin? We would have been friends and that could have been....I can't even put it into words." He shot a dirty look at the blonde before slowly entering the room.

It was always the jars full of...Merlin only knew...that bothered Harry. They were ominous in their grossness and he personally couldn't understand why anyone would decorate their office with them, practical or not.

Draco snorted, "You say Slytherin as if it's a bad thing." He glanced over his shoulder to see Harry eyeing the glowing jars that surrounded them. "You assume a lot, even if you were a Slytherin, it doesn't mean I would have been your friend." He cast an amused look at Harry, his body still turned to the shelves as his finger ran along an old book spine. "You have that horrid scar and who wants to be friends with a marred freak."

Harry glared at him, "So that's how it is? Marred freak? That's okay, I don't think I would have been friends with you either, I mean who befriends an albino in-breed?" He bit his lip and raised a taunting eyebrow. He began to browse on the opposite side of the room, looking thru the books.

Draco sneered at Harry, "Albino in-breed? Did you think that one up while you were breeding Hippogriffs? We all know the truth; you secretly have a Hippogriff fetish and you like to hide in the barn and wank off." Draco glanced back at the book's title, smiled, and read out loud, "Moste Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap by A. C. Deesea. That sounds absolutely pornographic..." He pulled a disgusted face, as he removed the book from the shelf and tossed it onto the couch turning back to look for some others.

Harry turned. "Tell me you aren't setting up camp? What if Snape returns?" He could almost picture it, Snape storming in, his wand at the ready. Suddenly, Harry had flashbacks of losing House Points for Gryffindor and detentions spent scrubbing disgusting cauldrons. His stomach rolled as he thought of dicing pickled toad spleens, ugh. He had thought Neville had been melodramatic until Harry had to do it himself.

He stuck his tongue out at Harry and sat down on the sofa, lifting the 'porn' book first. "Snape won't be back tonight. He had ballet practice with Rose and usually he retires to his chambers to get the pink fluffy thoughts out of his head. Can you imagine having to sit in a room full of screaming eight year old girls all in pink and pretending to be sugar plum faeries. The idea makes me a bit queasy; I feel for the man." He said, matter-of-factly.

Harry went back to the comment Draco had made. "Is wanking something else you're an expert at, Malfoy?" He jumped over the back of the couch, landing hard on the sofa and jostling the blonde. "Well at least that's what I've heard. Zabini used to tell us stories about all the noises he could hear coming from your bed. I would have thought someone like you would have heard of a Silencing Charm." He wrinkled his nose at the blonde, "So, is it true what he said about the chicken noises? Oh and the elephant?" He lifted a book on Sumerian daemons and began to search the index.

Draco smiled sheepishly, "My right hand and I are very well met and the left is a frequent flyer. It does pay to be ambidextrous." He smiled, innocently at Harry but turned back quickly when he realized just how close they were sitting. "Knock it off, Potter. This joke is drawn out. We came here to work." He thumbed thru the book on his lap, as he kicked off his shoes. He tucked his legs beneath him and pulled out his wand and started a fire in the fireplace.

"Thirsty?" Draco asked, as he conjured a tea setting on the small table before them and poured Harry a cup. "Sugar, right? I know I hate bitter tea." He didn't wait for an answer and plopped two sugar cubes into the hot amber liquid and handed it to Harry. He already knew how he took his tea, he had known since seventh form. But he would never admit that to Harry.

"Malfoy, why is it you ask me the same question every time we have tea? After all these years that we have been friends you'd think you would have figured it out. I know how you take yours...six cubes, no milk, very strong." He shook his head at Draco's forgetfulness. "You know, for someone who has noticed every detail of my life to use against me at every turn, you aren't very observant as to how a bloke takes his tea. It's not like we haven't had this discussion a million times. Two cubes, no milk."

He watched as Draco put the sugar into his own tea. He shook his head, "I can't fathom how you haven't died from sugar overload. Between that and those Blood Lollypops you're always eating...." He saw the look of surprise on Draco's face. "Yeah, you can't sneak around with red lips and not get noticed." He laughed out loud, something that felt nice yet foreign. It had been too long since he had laughed like that.

He suddenly didn't feel like searching mouldy old books for a daemon that may or may not have killed his wife. Pushing the book to the floor, he felt very sleepy. Kicking off his shoes, he made himself comfortable. "I hope you're right about Snape. I'd hate to have him walk in on us making ourselves at home on his sofa."

Draco looked off into the fire, he too had lost interest in Hermione's quest for knowledge, at least for the night. Instead, he snuggled himself into the couch and thought of Harry's words. He knew how Draco took his tea, he even knew about his lollypop addiction. Not even his best pal Pansy Parkinson knew about the lollypops. Harry was more observant than Draco gave him credit for.

"So Harry, you know how I take my tea, and you know all about my lolly fetish, when did you become my stalker?" He elbowed Harry lightly. "I get it, you fancy me."

He turned to face him again, then in a taunting, sing song voice Draco said, "Harry Potter likes men....Harry Potter likes men...." I could only wish, Draco thought to himself.

Harry was beginning to feel sleepier. He grabbed a pillow and put it on the back of the couch between his and Malfoy's head. Getting comfortable he put his feet up on the table and closed his eyes, then Draco began to tease him and they shot open. "I do not fancy men!" He defended himself, but his weariness was greater than his need to protect his virtue, so his eyes drifted close again. As a final thought he whispered, "Only you, Draco...only you." His voice was thick with sleep and he could feel slumber pulling him under.

Draco's heart almost burst from Harry's words, Only you, Draco...only you.

He watched Harry for awhile, slowly removing the empty cup of tea from his strong hands. Malfoy noted that Harry's nails were rough and not well taken care of, far from Draco's well manicured hands. He knew Harry was asleep by the sound of the snoring that began to emanate from the man's mouth. Draco leaned forward and kissed the back of one of Harry's rough hands. "I fancy you too, Harry, only you," he whispered.

He replaced the hand and settled next to Harry on the pillow and as he began to drift, he felt his head slipping off the pillow as Harry slumped toward the arm of the sofa.

~*~

6:00 a.m., the next morning.

Snape had been woken up by Rose's insistence on showing her father that she was able to do all five ballet positions perfectly. She had practiced all night. It was something her mother would have done, so he only sat and watched, silently worrying that his eight year old hadn't slept. There would have been no sense in telling her that practice could have waited, with her mother's stubbornness and his perfectionist mentality, the child was doomed.

After her impromptu performance, he resigned himself to an early day and decided to make good use of his time. Heading down to his lab he realized that needed some ingredients from his office.

As he approached the door, the first thing he noticed was the lack of wards. This made him nervous, but he couldn't imagine anyone dangerous entering the room. Opening the door slowly, his wand drawn, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. What he saw not only made him angry, but, if it was possible, it made him want to laugh at the same time.

Potter and...Malfoy? Should I hex them or embarrass them?

Both young men had removed their shoes and they looked very comfortable as they slept. Potter with his head on the arm of the sofa, Malfoy with is head on Potter's hip. It appeared they had slumped to the left and now Draco was...drooling...on Harry's trousers. Snape almost wished he had a camera.

He spied his books spread across the floor. He narrowed his gaze, They had better return those to their proper places.

Once upon a time he would have caused a ruckus and yelled at the pair, they had invaded his private space, but old age and a twisted sense of humour had taken over. He gathered his ingredients, swiftly and silently as a shadow. Then turning to his desk he jotted down a letter for the Sleeping Beauties.

~To the Slytherin and Gryffindor who are sleeping on MY sofa in MY office:

Next time make sure you wear your night clothes and bring blankets. This isn't a hotel and there is no maid service.

Potter...you snore.

Malfoy...you drool.

S. Snape~

He tucked the note in Potter's shoe and then turned his back on the pair, shaking his head, a slight smile curling his lips. He left them both, returning to his lab.