Basketcase

Basketcase

'...Even the best fall down sometimes

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I'll somehow find....'

--Howie Day, Collide.

Chapter Three: The Letum Floreus and an Unexpected Hero

Hermione woke up, her alarm clock singing on the drawer sitting next to her bed. She reached over and let her palm hit the play/stop button, as she yawned and then stretched. She disentangled herself from her covers, as she stepped out onto the soft carpet that pillowed the soles of her feet and toes, and looked around.

She sighed, taking in the familiar surroundings, before looking over to the window. The curtain was drawn, as she had always done so after she took her daily peek out into the world. Hermione walked over to the window slowly, and gracefully pushed it aside, hearing the sliding of the rings that held the curtains up. She looked out, observing the ground below.

There was still snow, white and powdery. But as she looked up heavenward, she immediately noticed that the sky was now colored a stronger and determined gray, darker and more absolute than yesterday. She shivered, as she predicted what was to come for the weather today. A storm or a blizzard, promising to be headstrong and very unpleasant.

She lowered her gaze again, downwards to the snow below her. She remembered the foretelling of the day before, for the morning had been a beautiful one, indeed, but the day hadn't gone as smoothly as she had expected it to. Hermione closed her eyes as she remembered yesterday's events, feeling her doubt rise.

Yesterday had been a hard day. She had been late to class because of that horrid meeting with Draco in the corridor, and then there had been Crabbe stealing that poor boy's Potions book, that meeting with Dumbledore... and then there had been sitting out in the common room, listening to Draco playing the guitar.

Hermione groaned at that thought.

She still couldn't believe that she had done that. She had heard people play a blasted guitar before, hadn't she? Her cousin had managed to fill up those boring reunions with songs he had written himself, accompanied by his guitar. She remembered how she had pushed aside all of her thoughts and just walked out... like she had been possessed by some sort of monster. A monster of no logic or reason, or no account of all the horrible memories that he had played in her life at all.

But then, she hadn't really done anything wrong, had she? It wasn't as if she had been planning to knock on his door, insist on being an audience, and see him play up close, or thought of him romantically. She hadn't done anything of the sort at all. She had just sat there, closing her eyes and listening. She hadn't done anything but have a great appreciation for the art of music, and was drawn because of his tremendous skill. It wasn't her fault her willpower had withered after hearing him play, and that her stubbornness had switched sides, against her conscience. It wasn't her fault that he was a damned good guitarist. It wasn't her fault at all.

Hermione let out a sigh, trying to free her mind of her debating thoughts, as she quickly drew the curtain again and turned on her heel. She pushed her thoughts of Draco to the farthest and deeply shadowed corner of her mind, as she grabbed her toothbrush and headed to the bathroom.

After dressing into new robes and clipping her hair up, she took her book bag and slid it on her shoulder, before heading out to the Great Hall for breakfast.

She took her regular seat at the Gryffindor table, chatting with Ginny and sending the occasional scold at Ron for not swallowing before he spoke. Everyone seemed to be at the same level of cheer and liveliness today, as she looked around at the other tables. She heard clinks of silverware, laughter and mixed conversations in the familiar atmosphere. She sighed, smiling faintly, before Harry called for her attention.

"How did it go with Dumbledore last night?" Harry asked, curious.

"It was.... Well, it was a Heads meeting," she frowned. "Malfoy had to come fetch me in the Library, and... I guess you can say it wasn't all that pleasant."

"That's nothing new," Ron snorted beside him, snatching another piece of bacon with his fork. Harry nodded, sending a sympathetic smile at Hermione.

"I really do feel sorry for you for having to be with Malfoy...." Hermione waved it off, reached for her cup full of pumpkin juice.

"Harry, there's ups and downs to everything," she said, as she set down her cup and swallowed the cold and sweet liquid. "I've always wanted to be Head Girl, and I think I always knew the Head Boy would be Malfoy."

"What?" Ron asked, distorting his face in disgust and shock. "What do you mean you 'always knew'?"

"Well," Hermione said, explaining. "He's got the second highest grades in the school, Ron, you know that."

"But he's a git," he said, voicing out his opinion of the truth. Hermione sighed.

"Yeah... but if he was a nice bloke and he wasn't a git, he still would have been Head Boy."

"Malfoy being decent? That's really hard to imagine, Hermione. I, for one, have never seen that blasted prick smile, not smirk, but smile. Really smile. He's just evil and wicked. He's the bloody spawn of Satan." Hermione gasped.

"Ron! Don't say that!" she said to him. Her brown eyes flickered with annoyance and reason. "Just because he is a pain in the arse, doesn't mean he's the spawn of Satan!" Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's awfully near and it's too close to tell." Hermione threw up her hands and sighed in frustration, before she raised her goblet again and gulped down the pumpkin juice to the last drop.

When the first meal of the day was over, Hermione made sure that she had all of her books, before she left with Ron and Harry. Ron and Harry were talking about the recent events in the Boy's dormitories, as they chuckled and told their views. Hermione, meanwhile, just listened along and laughed softly every now and then, before they finally reached their first class, Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's lecture today wasn't as dull as her past ones, but was rather sharp and straightforward, as she explained the consequences of all sorts of transfiguration. Hermione was disappointed to hear that the Professor hadn't mentioned any new homework, and only reminded them of their essay due by the end of the week.

Their next class was Herbology with Professor Sprout, and they trekked towards the greenhouse in curiosity as people they passed were talking about the particular subject in excitement. They hurried and made it in time to see a crowd gathering around a table full of little pots with a little bright purple bud that stood about an inch from the rich soil. People around her were asking questions about the plant, but Hermione was absolutely baffled. Even she didn't know about this plant. She didn't recognize it, and she couldn't recall reading about a small and stout purple bud in her Herbology textbook.

When Professor Sprout had walked in from a small chat with Madam Pomfrey about the health and condition of a few of her plants, she shooed them all away from the table and told them all to their assigned places. She explained her tardy and said her due apology, before she summoned them up to the front again to take a pot and bring it back to their seats.

Hermione examined the bud carefully, leaning in close to try and jog her memory back in place. She came out with a blank, as she was still puzzled by the ordinary looking plant. They reminded her of her mother's plants in her beloved garden, except the flower was a brighter color that she had never seen on the petals of flowers before in the Muggle world. She was about to poke the small flower when she heard a loud voice speak.

"Miss Granger, I advise you not to do such a thing." Hermione straightened quickly, with wide eyes, as she looked at Professor Sprout, who was smiling at her amusedly. She heard some people snicker as she flushed a bright red, embarrassed for letting her damned curiosity get to her.

Madam Sprout was holding a pot with both hands, as she quieted the class and brought their attention to the front.

"This," she said, eyeing each of them, "is the Letum Floreus, which is Latin for the words 'Death flower,' for reason that this, indeed, can bring death." Hermione's ears perked as her attention was caught.

"This flower may look feeble and small, but it is considered one of the most dangerous plants in the world.... When full grown, that is. What you have before you is only a child, not yet full grown, but still growing. The Letum Floreus takes a full, but not very long, three months to grow into an adult. The adult Letum has many uses, but they are all for toxic and poisonous uses. Its petals can be picked and ground into a powder that can stun a person wholly, with only a pinch of it. But when taken at a larger amount, it can weaken the brain until it can no longer function, therefore sending the person into a deadly stupor. But when taken with certain fluids... for example, if someone were to put it in someone else's glass of water or sweet tasting pumpkin juice, it can send them into trauma and make their body unstable. This flower," she raised the pot for them all to see, "when full grown and the powder is used in a horribly large amount, can kill within minutes." Hermione shuddered, as she looked back down at her flower.

'So small and weak looking... yet when put at its full capability, is the complete opposite.... This little flower can kill.... The irony of this world....' She thought to herself.

"This flower can also be made into a certain toxin juice that is much more lethal in lesser amounts. In fact, it is illegal to own this flower when it is full grown," she said. "In the past ages, Witches and Wizards had grown these right in their very homes and used them to their purposes; killing. 257 deaths had been caused by this flower before it was banned and made illegal to have, purchase, or sell. But of course, schools and research are allowed, but schools like Hogwarts in particular, can only have them to teach for a month. Certain poisons were put in the flower's seeds so that after a month, the flower will wilt and die immediately, therefore not allowing it the possibility of growing to its fully matured stage.

"However, the reason for my stopping Miss Granger's action, is because of the petals of the Letum. The Letum before you is still a child; therefore the petals are not as lethal as they can truly be. On the petals there are pores that let out a translucent poison to ooze out, and if one were to touch the petals and get them on their skin, a very stubborn rash will spread everywhere your hands touch, whether it be on your body, or someone else's. The poison is indeed very obstinate, and it will not wash away with a mere soap and water, even if you scrub at your hardest. You will have to wash your hands with a special astringent to get it off.

"But, one piece of information that is very, very, very important is about the pollen of the Letum. The only thing that doesn't change on this plant is the pollen. When the flower is damaged or suddenly opened by a surprising impact, it will open and release a stunning, yellow mist, which is its pollen."

She raised her gaze and looked around. Their heads were either turned to Professor Sprout, their attention on her lecture, or their heads were bowed down, looking at the plant. She saw the few Ravenclaws in their class listening to Sprout attentively, some Hufflepuffs looking suspiciously at their plants, and the Slytherins....

Hermione looked at them disapprovingly. Some of them, like Crabbe and Goyle, had picked up a quill and were poking the little flower. Her attention turned to Draco, who was beside the two gorilla dimwits. He was scowling at the two unaware ones, for which Hermione knew because Goyle had elbowed Draco accidentally. She watched with sparking curiosity as Draco watched them, a sneer of disgust on his face. Hermione felt a small smile pull at her lips as she saw him shake his head and mutter "Dense juveniles," under his breath, and Hermione was secretly glad that he was not as immature and insolent as the two, as he did not join in their pointless activity.

Just then, Goyle yet again elbowed Draco for the second time, as he snickered with Crabbe silently. And Draco, very ill tempered and cross today, had been lit on a very short fuse and was now fed up. His eyes were dark as she saw a glimpse of them underneath his pale blonde hair, as he turned away and secretly pushed Goyle with his arm. Hermione eyes widened as Goyle was pushed to the side, his hand hitting the potted flower, and both him and the flower fell to the ground, the sound of the pot breaking and smashing against the solid floor, and Crabbe grunting as Goyle collapsed on top of him. Hermione saw Draco smirk, her mouth agape. It hadn't looked like he had pushed him that hard.

Just then, Hermione looked in horror, as she heard a shriek and more screams follow as a yellow mist began to arise beside Crabbe and Goyle. The students that had been standing beside them ran to the other side, screaming and alarmed. Hermione gasped, as a poor Hufflepuff girl that had been standing right beside Crabbe hadn't gotten away and fell to the floor. More screams chased as the incident did not end there.

Professor Sprout was now scurrying, panicking, as she was quickly shouting at them to run to the opposite side, where Hermione was standing. Her heart halted its function as she saw more people fall to the floor as the mist spread, and she could not get her wits and thoughts together.

'The flower.... Poison... poison, poison... lethal... they could be dead... no, this isn't a full-grown... but it's still poison...the pollen....'

Hermione knew her wand was in her pocket, but she couldn't move. She couldn't move at all. Her heart was racing now, faster and faster, and her thoughts were screaming at her to move. But she felt frozen, watching, the screaming and shouts deafening but distinct to her ears.

'Do something! Get your wand! Do something! You're Head Girl!' a voice in her head shrieked at her. She looked helplessly towards Professor Sprout, who was trying to get another Hufflepuff who was frozen on the other side, her eyes wide and fear etched across her face. The whole side was empty now, but her, and the mist was nearing her so fast. Just then, she felt something warm beside her. Something was pressed close against her back, and it felt solid. She felt hot breaths on the side of her neck, and she was suddenly aware that someone was whispering something in her ear.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Granger?" a familiar drawl spoke softly in her ear. "You're Head Girl, aren't you? What's keeping you from rescuing us all?" And then there was a chuckle.... It was so familiar.

But, something snapped deep inside her, as she suddenly felt fueled and her fear-enforced paralyzed state shatter. The voice had lit something deep inside her, and now they were going off like fireworks on the fourth of July, gathering her thoughts and wits.

As if right on cue, as the mist was reaching right for the girl, Hermione dove her hand deep in the pocket of her robe and grasped her wand. She drew it out at quickly and shouted the first spell she thought off.

But as she shouted the spell, the screaming faded quickly. There was a sweet but stinging smell, as she inhaled and her lungs suddenly felt as if they were crumbling slowly and painfully. Her world was spinning and the room was far too hot. She felt something warm on her mouth, as the scene was slowly fading from her eyes. The ground beneath her was unstable and tilting, as her vision suddenly blacked out and she felt a falling sensation grab at her.

ooooooooooo

Hermione woke up; wincing slightly as her world spun again and her dizziness encircled her. She tried to lift her head, but she let it drop back down again on the pillow, realizing her extreme lack of energy at the moment.

She sighed, as she recognized the atmosphere and the ceiling above her. She looked to her side and saw colorless and neat beds, and the shiny floors of the Hospital Wing. She shifted her hands so that they were beside her on the bed, and pushed herself to sit up. She swore under her breath as her world twirled yet again, shutting her eyes and she clutched the sheets of the bed to hold on, afraid to fall back. When the whirling had stopped, she opened her eyes and frowned at the scene before her.

On four beds in front of her, four students were lying unconsciously amidst the pale sheets and mattress. She sighed shamefully, as the events played over in her mind.

'You could have saved them.... If only you'd acted fast enough and stopped being such a damned sissy.... Maybe then they wouldn't be lying there... maybe then they'd think you'd really acted like you're the Head Girl.... You don't deserve to be Head Girl....'

Hermione felt her heart fall as the persecution started. She felt as if someone had just thrown her to the bottom of a bottomless pit. She had let down so many people for not doing her job. These people were in the Hospital Wing because she had a bloody panic attack and froze instead of fulfilling her responsibility.

Hermione looked to her side, her shoulders slouching with the weight of guilt and shame. She was surprised to see a parchment lying on the white side table. She noticed that it had her name written on it, and curious, reached over and retrieved it. She looked at the front, staring at her name. She recognized it, and strangely enough, a quick moment later, she knew it was Harry's.

She opened the letter unhurriedly, as her eyes read his haste words.

'Dear Hermione,

If you're reading this, then you're awake. Sorry we aren't there with you --Madam Pomfrey insisted that we go to the rest of our classes or else she would give both Ron and me detention. Listen, I know you too well, and I know that you're blaming yourself for the incident in Herbology.... Don't, Hermione. It isn't your fault. Everyone knows that Crabbe and Goyle had been messing with the bloody flower.... And I wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy had been part of it, too. (Hermione snorted at this, 'you have no bloody idea,' she thought.) But well, the reason you're at the Hospital Wing right now is because someone had also thrown down a flowerpot right beside you, in all the fright and running. You fainted, from one breath of the pollen mist, but I saw Malfoy beside you and he covered your mouth and dragged you out of there before you could breathe in another. I know, I still can't believe it, either. Malfoy saved you. I'm awfully grateful to that git, though I'd never admit it. Hermione, if you'd continued breathing in that pollen, you could have been stunned or paralyzed for days. Unfortunately, other people weren't as lucky.

I hope you feel better, and we hope to see you soon,

Harry.'

Hermione sighed, a faint smile on her face, as she suddenly felt comforted by Harry's letter. But then, as she was folding up the parchment, something flashed through her mind and she opened it and read it again.

'...You fainted, from one breath of the pollen mist, but I saw Malfoy beside you and he covered your mouth and dragged you out of there before you could breathe in another. I know, I still can't believe it, either. Malfoy saved you....'

Hermione was gaping, rereading the letter in her hands yet again.

'Malfoy saved me? Malfoy saved me? What in Merlin's bloody name is going on?'

She let out a deep sigh, as she folded it back up and threw it back on the table. She closed her eyes as she raised her hands and massaged her temples, her questions burning and her thoughts demanding. She couldn't believe that... Malfoy had done that for her. Malfoy. He had saved her. He had bloody saved her. She clenched her jaw, as she forcefully fell back on the bed.

Why did he save her? To have something to hold her by? To humiliate her?

"Granger." She looked up and was ready to tackle the person standing before her. She felt something jump inside her heart, but was dominated by the anger that had finally poured out and filled her veins.

"You-you despicable, infuriating, mean, undeserving, pompous, stupid and arrogant git!" she fumed. She had sat up as quickly as she saw him, spitting out the words that were bursting to come out. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, surprised to see that she was already so cross at him. He looked at her questionably, and then was quickly replaced as irritation was drawn on his flawless features.

"Just what in Merlin's name are you so bloody angry about now, you basketcase?" he asked her, clueless and rather annoyed at why she had been so quick to spit at him like so.

"You-you," she seethed, too angry to speak properly. "You bloody--"

"Saved you? Well, yes I did. Except, I'd have expect you to be thanking me, not spewing out insults and names," he snapped. Suddenly, Hermione threw her covers aside, swinging her legs over and getting up as quick as lightning. She was facing him, staring up so defiantly, her eyes fiery and flashing with rage.

"Stop it," she spat viciously. "Stop bloody saying that. I wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't pushed Goyle!"

"He deserved it," he retaliated. "You know he did."

"No!" she shouted. "No, I don't know, Malfoy! He wasn't the only one hurt! There are four people stunned and paralyzed because of you! Look around! Look around in this bloody Hospital Wing! Stop acting like a git and just take a blasted moment to look around of what you've done!" Draco's eyes flashed dangerously and his eyes darkened. He stepped closer to her, his hands clenching into fists.

"Me? Me? I'm the one who bloody did this? Granger, step out of your damned shell and see it properly. You're the one who could have saved them," Hermione felt her heart break at this. "You're the one who had your bloody wand in your pocket and could have easily shouted a spell to freeze the pollen. You're the Head Girl," he seethed, his eyes steely in his fury. "Or did your bloody cleverness and know-it-all persona wear off? Did you just blank out? Tell me, Granger, I am so curious to know why you hadn't jumped at the opportunity to prove yourself as a Hero and grab more favor from the old koot!"

"No!" she shouted at him, hurt. "Don't you dare try to whirl this around on me! It wasn't my fault! It was yours! You were the one who pushed Goyle! You were the one who made him fall along with the bloody flower!" Unknowingly, tears were staring to well up in her eyes. Her voice was hoarse as her mouth was rough and dry, a painful knot twisting in her throat.

"How dare you? It's your fault! Yours and Goyle's for being so damned stupid and dense!"

"Shut up, Granger," he hissed. His mouth was twisted into a scowl, and his words were cold and biting. "You could've saved them, and you know it. You know it, and you've thought it before. I know it, I can see it. You're just angry because now everyone will look at you and think you aren't as perfect as you set out to let them think you are. You're afraid that people will talk about you and tell their friends that you didn't do something right when you could have."

"Shut up!" she shouted, her vision blurring and her eyes stinging harshly. She felt hot tears slip from her eyes, as her anger and guilt burdened her so heavily. "Shut up! That's not true!"

"You aren't perfect! You can't be righteous all the bloody time! Just admit it, Granger! You're angry because you want people to think that you are, and you've just ruined your reputation!"

"No!" she felt her tears slide into her mouth, as she tasted the saltiness. Her heart was getting heavier and heavier.... She knew he was right. It had been her fault. She didn't save them because she had been afraid. She didn't save them... because she had been in shock. She didn't save them when she was supposed to. It was all her fault. She could've stopped Goyle from poking the flower, and then therefore stopping him from elbowing Draco and then Draco wouldn't have pushed him... then there wouldn't be four unconscious bodies in the infirmary. It was all her fault. She could've stopped it, but she didn't.

"You're mad, Granger," she suddenly heard him say softly, as she cried. She felt him step back, as the air around her got colder. "You're bloody mad." She noticed that his voice no longer held the coldness and his forked tongue hint had disappeared. His voice was quiet now... soft, and no longer full of hate.

"Dumbledore sent me in here to check on you. I'll just tell him that you're awake and fine." She looked up at him as she wiped her eyes, and she wasn't sure of the look in his eyes. Though her vision was still unclear, his expression seemed unfamiliar. His gray eyes were dark, but not flashing with fury or glinting with hate. There was a look in his eyes that she had never seen before. She watched him as he stepped back from her slowly, and he turned, heading to the doors. Suddenly, she called out to him.

"You're wrong," she said, through her tears. "No one is perfect. I never asked to be seen that way. I don't want to be perfect." And for some odd reason, she knew he had stopped. It was only a moment later that she heard the doors open and then shut.

Hermione was left alone, wiping away the tears from her eyes. She looked at her hands, stained with her tears. She wondered how he could have known that she truly did blame herself, and why his words had hurt so much this time. And why she had really wanted to thank him for saving her.