Montane Hope

Chapter 9 (of 16)

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"The third element is fire. Every culture has their own myths how fire came to be. The simple answer is, it always was. When the earth was first formed the sun warmed and breathed life into the creatures of the earth. With sun, came fire."

In the early years of his life Draco had had a tutor to teach him to read and write. Some of the lessons were rather boring, but best of all he loved the ones where the tutor brought a big book and showed him pictures of molten lava, orangey red and bubbling under the earth. It changed forever the way he looked at the earth. They had made volcanoes in the schoolroom, erupting magma and ash and burying entire model towns. Sometimes they made big sheets of stone and the tutor would make them move and crash together. Towns and people would fall over and big splits appear in the surface of the stone.

Every time he had a geography lesson the first thing young Draco asked was, 'Are there volcanoes there?" He knew that he had a cousin in New Zealand, although his parents didn't like to talk about Lucius' brother. Draco had got the idea that he would probably never meet this cousin before a volcano exploded on top of him.

The Maori had a myth about how the warmth was brought to New Zealand, a thousand years before when the first settlers arrived in their waka. In winter in the mountains it was cold, bitter cold. Used to the warm equatorial islands, a senior wizard was about to die when he sent a message to his sisters back home. They travelled through sea and earth in the form of taniwha, carrying the warmth that provided cooking and comfort in the coldest parts of Aotearoa. From that time on the people of the land had naturally heated hot water for cooking and bathing.

Nowadays, Dylan told him, the thermal layer that bubbled so close to the surface of the earth was used to make the electricity that powered Dylan's computer and the lights. Active areas were fenced off and Muggles paid to go and look at them.

The day that they had gone together to the volcanic plateau, Dylan waited with his mother while the others apparated to one of the crater holes. Draco had hoped to see the lava, but the crater was full of steaming water, and mud bubbled like old porridge around the edges. He apparated back to Dylan when the sulphur fumes started to become overpowering.

He wondered what it was like, living here in the summer. Dylan had described the bush fires that raged, sometimes for weeks on end, wildfires that ran out of control consuming and renewing the forests that they ate. Muggles sent big contraptions through the air after them, dumping water on the heart of the fire. The big ones they simply couldn't defeat, they burned themselves out because no-one could control them. Fire - so simply started, so easy to control and rarely did a Muggle succeed in this most basic skill. Couldn't they see that it was unnecessary? No, they just sat back and let fire take their possessions, their livelihood. They didn't know any different, and so fire was their saviour but it was also their greatest fear.

A pigeon took fright and swept out of a tree not three feet from where he stood, the noise of its wings clapping loudly in his ear. Draco saw the purply-blue belly and head flash past before it vanished into the sky.

* * * * *

"Leave...boggart...don't kill, Draco."

Draco shrugged. He suspected Blaise was talking in his sleep. After a few moments all four of his dorm mates - Blaise included, were breathing slowly in deep sleep. Draco slipped out.

He decided to go to the Astronomy tower, glaring at the portraits on the way when they told him off. I'm nearly seventeen after all. Surely I can go and look out of a window at night if I want. Nevertheless, he listened carefully for any sounds, and pressed against a doorway when he heard McGonagall's brisk step in an adjacent corridor.

He stopped on the first landing, looking at the moonlight. A furry bundle attacked his leg, chirping. He picked Proctor up, setting her on the windowsill as he looked out into the grounds.

In a few days he would be seventeen. He'd done all the theory; the Apparation test should be a doddle. Especially compared to the stuff Snape was teaching him now.

In the far distance a large shadow passed in front of the trees - Hagrid, coming back from The Three Broomsticks.

The window corners were covered in webs. Draco looked at a big black spider, crouched in the tunnel of its sheeted web. It looked a bit like a pet he'd had at home a few years ago. Percy had grown to a three inch leg span before he lost him in the garden one day. On the opposite corner was a new orb web. It was attached to the edge of the stone and spun along the window frame, forming a web of about fifteen inches diameter. The spider - a diadem - sat in the very centre of the web. Draco touched the edge of the web lightly with his finger, watching as the spider reared up and pulled the threads to find the disturbance. He touched lightly again, so that the spider started climbing towards him, walking along the sticky threads. Another spider appeared on the web, to Draco's surprise. Webs were usually one-occupant-only affairs. Then he realised what he was looking at and moved aside to get a better view through the window. The spider, realising that the 'fly' had ceased to struggle, abandoned its journey and returned to the centre of the web.

Out in the grounds Hagrid was talking with a spider the size of a horse. Draco couldn't be sure whether it was Aragog or not. He didn't know if any of the other spiders could talk. Fang was trying to slink away without being seen.

*

A Ministry official tested Weasley and Draco the same day on Apparation. Both passed, to Draco's disgust. Weasley was more unbearable with every week that passed, and he'd been trying his hardest to distract him during the test. As if Weasley being two weeks older wasn't bad enough, Mrs Weasley sent him a parcel the day after he passed. Draco didn't even get a note until the following day.

They walked back to Hogwarts together after the test., a situation Draco would have done anything to avoid. After ten minutes of bickering Draco realised a solution. He started talking about his pets - Edna the python, Merissa the spider and her friend Eressea. When he started describing Percy hunting hornets in his bedroom he found himself walking alone.

"What's up Weasley? My company a bit more sophisticated than you can handle?"

"You're a prat, Malfoy."

Draco walked the rest of the way on his own. As it was a Saturday he went straight to the dormitory for his broomstick. In the afternoon sun he climbed and spiralled over the Quidditch pitch, chasing clouds and birds. Eventually he pulled a golf ball out of his pocket and threw it in the air, swooping to earth to catch it before it landed.

After twenty minutes or so throwing and catching the golf ball, the rest of the Slytherin team turned up. Draco glided towards them, then turned the broom up slightly as he realised he could see another group of people walking down from the castle, clutching broomsticks. "The Gryffindors are coming, woohoo, woohoo," he sang. "The Gryffindors are coming, woohoo."

He soared away again, hovering overhead while the team captains argued with each other about who was permitted to use the pitch. After five minutes or so the teams turned their backs to each other - and mounted their broomsticks. Potter undid the clasp of the chest he'd been carrying and loosened the straps. Both teams kicked off the ground in the instant he let the balls go. Potter, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan went to sit in the stands.

No ref. Never thought I'd see this happen. Draco flipped his broom over and over in the air, drawing a scowl from Ginny Weasley who was flitting about, looking for the snitch. Snitch never turns up this early. Nevertheless, Draco straightened his broom and weaved in and out of the other players, dodging a bludger. Slytherin had already scored twice, though no one was keeping count. Draco watched a Slytherin chaser barrel into Ron Weasley, then pull away yelling - 'Oops' as one of the other chasers put the quaffle through the hoop. 'Weasley is our King' he hummed under his breath, but it wasn't effective any more. Weasley always puffed out his chest proudly when anyone sang that now.

He kept a look out for the snitch, watching out of the corner of his eye as Weasley stopped another three attempted goals. Then someone sent the quaffle through one of the Slytherin hoops. Draco dive-bombed the Gryffindor chaser, pulling out of the dive as she flattened herself along her broomstick. Then he saw it. About fifty feet straight up the snitch hung glittering. Ginny Weasley saw it at the same time, but she was at least a hundred feet further away. It was a sure thing.

"I don't think so Malfoy." Ron Weasley had nearly knocked him off his broom. He looked up. Ginny was diving down, while Crabbe and Goyle collided overhead. He swung back up at the same time as Ginny, but the snitch was gone. Together they dived and somersaulted to avoid the bludgers - Crabbe and Goyle were still dazed from their attempted attack on Ginny.

The Gryffindor beaters caught up with the bludgers and sent them towards Slytherin's chasers. Draco decided to mark Ginny, letting her look for the snitch. I'm a better flier - I'll overtake her if she moves. Twice she feinted, the second time nearly leading him into colliding with his own keeper.

The quaffle was moving so fast it was impossible to keep track of the score. Draco saw a Gryffindor beater barrelling backwards with a bludger in his stomach. The balls flew back and forward till the sun began to set. Gryffindor were down to only two chasers now - one of their team was on the ground and the stands were half full of students.

Ginny turned upwards sharply. She had almost slipped off her broom a couple of times, half asleep. This time it wasn't a feint. Draco tracked her up, up till the other players were almost out of sight. Then he saw it and urged his broom to increase speed - she had obviously had her eye on it from several hundred feet below. Any second now it'll probably vanish. She was reaching for it.

She dived sharply, gliding down to the ground. Draco followed, landing gently on the grass. His legs were shaking from so long on the broomstick. Ginny fell over after a few steps, stretching her legs out on the ground to get some feeling back into them before Potter helped her up and put the snitch back in its case.

A Gryffindor beater fell out of the sky. Neither team had realised that the game was over.

Draco followed Ginny Weasley and some of the other students back into the castle. Professor McGonagall ran past without a word, heading for the pitch. It was now almost dark and Draco could hear her voice, magically ampliphied as she shouted at the players to return to the ground.

*

The following Monday Draco smirked at a group of people with mops and buckets, waiting for Filch after dinner. Getting back into the castle had been a smart move - he and little Ginny might have missed dinner, but every-one still in the air when McGonagall got there on Saturday night had missed dinner and got detention.

Snape had looked rather bad-tempered earlier. It was rumoured among the Slytherins that he and Professor McGonagall had - shall we say, words, over the two injured Gryffindors. Of course, as the students knew, neither of the professors had anything to do with the game. If anyone was complaining about injuries it should be the teams. Draco suspected there would be some fun in the bathrooms tonight - Filch was never one to diplomatically separate students before they started fighting. You could almost see the thoughts ticking through his slow head. 'Sooner or later, if they're bad enough, I'll be allowed to chain them by their feet from the dungeon ceilings.' Draco might have been worried if he hadn't realised that nearly every teacher in the school would have to leave before that was allowed.

When Draco arrived at Snape's office he knocked, and listened for an answer, but it didn't come. As the door was slightly ajar, he decided to go in and wait.

Draco almost jumped out of his skin when he realised Snape was there already. He was lying with his head on an open book, breathing softly. A little trickle of saliva had reached the table - Proctor did that too when she was sleeping. Draco hesitated, considering whether to wake him up, or leave and pretend he hadn't been there. He did neither.

Whatever happens, he'll be angry when he wakes up. Either because I'm late, or because I've seen him sleeping. Draco looked curiously at the professor. He hadn't stirred when Draco had sat down, or when he cleared his throat slightly. He fingered his wand, but decided he didn't need it. After all, Snape didn't need a wand to cross-examine the first years.

Draco probed gently. Snape had been arguing with himself - there was a stern command right behind his eyes, 'There is work to do. You will stay awake.' Obviously the opposing argument had won. Images flicked across the retina - Snape was dressed up as a bear, chasing first years. They skirt round Professor McGonagall and he runs right into her in his bear costume, whereupon she starts giggling. Bear-costumed Snape kisses her on the cheek and runs after the first years, who have by now disappeared...

Interesting dreams, Snape. Draco probed further. He saw a dark house, a library lined with books, the dust inches thick on the shelves. Broken furniture - a chair went flying past a dark-haired boy, smashing on the stone wall behind. He turned and shouted at the thrower - Draco saw a woman with straight black hair, tall and thin. The woman gripped his arm, screaming in his ear. The boy struggled, but he was thin and weak. When the woman ordered him to go, he went. Defiance burned in his eyes, but he obeyed.

Another memory. Draco saw fear in the white face of a man. They were in a forest, Snape threatening him. Startled, Draco recognised their first year Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He had disappeared, some said dead. No one really missed him.

A girl with long red hair, looking at him in disdain. Snape tried to talk with her, pleading with her to listen. A boy with untidy black hair - Potter? No, older than Potter - met the girl and insulted Snape. Hand in hand they walked away. Draco could almost 'feel' the moment, like when he'd been depressed before Halloween.

A dark place - bright lights, noises and pain. Waiting. Hurting.

This is too much. Professor Snape? No-one can hurt this much. Draco couldn't look at any more. When Snape woke up a moment later he was staring at the books on the table.

*

"Draco Malfoy. How long have you been here?" He knows! Draco dropped his eyes.

"I'm sorry Professor, I've just arrived. I was helping Pansy find her kitten after dinner."

Snape dismissed him early that evening, and Draco sped towards the common room, his released thoughts in turmoil. He tried to make some sense of what he had seen in Snape's head, but his own memories kept dwelling on the last thought he had observed. Someone had been cursing him. He must have nearly died. No-one can live through that sort of pain.

He was relieved to find the common room busy. As soon as he got in he persuaded Blaise and Nott to abandon their homework for the night and join him in word games. For the rest of the evening they played 'I spell', 'Anagrams' and 'Bluff'. As a result he was entirely unable to dwell on what he had seen and felt in Snape's brain, and somehow managed to get to sleep without thinking about it again. He was a great deal more worried about the fact that he'd challenged the boys to play 'Truth or Dare' the following night, as he fell asleep, than anything he'd seen inside Snape's head.

*

"Oh - I'm interrupting something." Draco looked curiously at the Gryffindors. "What are you doing?"

Potter lowered his wand as Granger started getting up from the floor.

"I was hexing her. What did it look like?"

"It looks like you missed. I don't think Poppy would be happy if she knew what you lot were up to."

"Get out, Malfoy. We don't need an audience."

"I should think not. I shall leave you to your games." He closed the door of the Charms classroom. Parvati had thrown him a rather evil look as he delivered that last sentence. Almost a rival to my own devilish good looks, he thought, mentally preening.

"Draco."

"Oh, there you are Lisa. I see we're not welcome in Charms."

"I've got permission to use the Transfiguration classroom. It's only for today." Lisa let the way down to McGonagall's classroom. She had already cleared a space near the teacher's desk.

"McGonagall says Potter and Granger and some of the others need the Charms classroom today - they're practising stunning or something."

"Looked a lot more advanced than stunning. I think Professor McGonagall might have been a bit economical with the truth. You'd be amazed what you can learn if you keep your ears open around Dumbledore's pet students."

"You know something then?"

"I didn't say I did."

"You implied it."

"Did not."

"Did."

"Okay, so I know that Potter is a scumbag who quit Quidditch because he's scared of falling off his broomstick and not being around to save the world."

"That's not true."

"'Tis."

"I thought he did it because he wanted Ginny Weasley to have a chance."

"He could've been a chaser if he'd wanted. No, he is denying the Gryffindor team his miniscule talents because he's a scaredy cat."

"Draco - you're ridiculous. Let's get on with the practise."

*

"You're getting pretty good at this Draco," Lisa said as Draco finished his individual routine and flopped onto the floor.

"I miss those cushions."

"Seriously Draco, if you were in Russia we'd have you in ballet school. No one ignores talent like that."

"Miss Turpin," Draco sat up and placed both hands over his heart. "You flatter me, but 'twill never succeed. My love is given and my life is finished." He flopped back onto the floor, staring at the ceiling.

"Master Draco must move. Get up sir."

"Say Dobby - you're getting a bit uppity aren't you." Draco stared at the little creature with the too-large ears.

"Dumbledore says Dobby may ask wizards to move. And you were a cruel master. Dumbledore is... Dumbledore is the best wizard ever."

Draco stood up and sat on a desk while Dobby the house-elf pushed his broom around the floor.

"As I was saying," said Lisa. 'Dumbledore wants to have a little display at the end of next term. You know, have students showcase their talents."

"You'll enjoy that," said Draco, his eyes on Dobby. "You could do that ribbon thing - it looks good. I'll bet no-one else plays the cello either."

"Actually Draco, we're going to do the Beauty and the Beast waltz followed by the floor routine I've been teaching you since Christmas."

"We! I!," Draco jumped off the desk, accompanied by a sharp squeak from the elf. He removed his foot from the house-elf's size 9 maroon socks as Lisa stood facing him, her arms folded. Dobby glared at him and carried on sweeping.

"I'm beginning to feel very... intimidated here," Draco said, looking from the house-elf to Lisa and back again.

"You do what the mistress says," snarled Dobby. "It's time you learnt to behave like a gentleman - if that were possible." He put his brush away and fetched a mop and bucket.

"Dobby knows wizards who had none of Master Draco's advantages, who are full of goodness and kind of heart. The great Harry Potter would never slight a lady."

"All right, I know when I'm not welcome," Draco snarled back. He stalked out, followed by Lisa.

"You'll be great Draco. Come on, we'll make the school sit up. Don't you want everyone to know how good you are?"

"At dancing? I don't think so. What would..." He stopped. Why couldn't he get Granger out of his mind, he'd almost said her name just then. What would Hermione Granger say if she knew I was practising ballet.

"Never mind," he said. "Meet you after school tomorrow - but I'm not getting up on any stage." Lisa hugged him and ran back to Ravenclaw. Dobby opened the door, struggling with the brush, mop and bucket, while he was still standing there. He glared at Draco and stuck his tongue out.

Well, if that isn't the rudest house-elf ever, Draco thought.. We're well rid of him.

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