Montane Hope

Chapter 11 (of 16)

After the Easter holidays a slow, steady panic settled over most of the school, especially those students coming up to OWLs or NEWTs. Sixth year students were slightly less pressured, but they still had interim exams to revise for. Lisa had once again come back to school lighter from her holiday practising - and with a present for Draco.

"They were my Dad's when he was a little older than you. It's good material, made in Russia." Draco lifted the folds of silken, shiny material out of the box. The tunic and tights were grey, a perfect foil to his naturally pale colouring.

"Just slip them on before your last class. No-one'll know if they're under your robes."

After classes each day - except for when there was Quidditch practice - Draco dropped his bag inside the door of the Charms classroom and warmed up while Lisa played her cello. As soon as she had done some stretching and simple exercises they would spend twenty minutes on the dances she devised, then the next ten warming down and relaxing before running downstairs in time for dinner. It made for a very full day, with extra study after dinner and Subneorancia on Mondays as well. Draco's sleep was usually deep and dreamless.

One night Draco returned to the common room after dinner to find Elddir storytelling again, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who shifted nervously when they saw him. The first years' faces were white and fearful. Draco sat down in an armchair across the room, his eyes on Marv Elddir. There was an uneasy silence for a couple of moments before Draco spoke.

"Spit it out then. I'm not stopping you from telling your stories."

"It's not exactly a story," Elddir mumbled.

"Let's hear it anyway. I'd like to know why little Susie looks so scared."

Elddir looked apologetic. "It's just, I heard - that is, my uncle is going to come here."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? You told us that before." A couple of the first years shuddered at the reference to Voldemort.

"Yes, but he really is going to come. This term. He's going to finish off Harry Potter once and for all."

"Well that won't be much loss. You still haven't said anything new - apart from the 'this term' business."

"And he's going to kill Snape."

Draco drew in his breath sharply. "What do you mean; he's going to kill Snape? Snape's a..." He stopped. It was likely that very few of the students actually knew that Snape was a Death Eater, he wasn't about to tell them.

"He says Snape is a traitor and needs to be got rid of."

"Have you told Professor Snape this?"

The boy looked blank, and Draco could see from his face that he hadn't considered mentioning it to Snape.

"N-no. When he's got rid of the people he doesn't need, he's going to kidnap a few key people at the Ministry of Magic - including that chap with heaps of kids that works in the Muggle section. Once he's done that he won't have to hide any more - no-one will stop him if it means he'll kill those people."

"Where do you get your stories from, Elddir?"

Marv Elddir gave him a rather smug look. The youngsters started to disperse, sensing that there was no more story happening.

*

Lisa laid her cello aside gently and took off her robes, revealing the blue tunic underneath. Draco was already in the cleared section of the Charms classroom, bending over with his hands behind his calves. The silk felt good, smooth and slippery. He glanced down at his tight grey tunic as he straightened up, holding his hand out to her.

Midway through the routine they paused, Lisa balancing in mid-air with her hands on Draco's. He counted silently the time before she started to swing down: 5-4-3... CRASH.

"Uh, sorry, did I disturb something?"

Lisa flipped lightly back onto the floor. Draco's heart had leapt into his throat with the shock, and he turned around to see who was there. Pansy was standing next to the door with her mouth open. Just a second ago she'd been staring at Draco's profile, the tunic and tights not leaving much to the imagination.

"I forgot a book," she said, walking over and picking it up from Professor Flitwick's desk. "See you later Draco. Nice look." She raised an eyebrow and tightened her lips as she walked out. Draco buried his face in his hands.

"I'm for it now! She'll tell everyone."

*

Draco was finding it hard to concentrate during his Subneorancia lesson. Every time he tried to clear his mind he saw the stunned look on Pansy's face - he'd wanted to die with embarrassment. Perhaps that is why he let his guard slip slightly. Before he knew what was happening he noticed a couple of thoughts unravelling - thoughts he would rather not have revealed.

"NO! Get out of there you b*** m***." Snape actually stepped back a pace as Draco headed for him, arms flailing. Next thing Draco knew, he was on the floor in a full body bind.

Snape was leaning over him, a penetrating look in his eyes. Draco closed his eyes - if he could have curled up and died he would have done. His limbs starting coming to life again as Snape lifted the spell, tingling as they did. He sat up, leaning forward to touch his toes.

"Sit down, Draco."

Draco sat in a chair. This dying thing is very drawn-out. Get it over with quickly - then I won't have to face Pansy again.

"Draco, a man's brain is a marvellous thing. That is why I emphasise the importance of learning Occlumency. You are the third student I have taught it to - and the shallowest. The other two found the art of concealing considerably more difficult because their emotions get in the way. Because..." Snape was leaning very close to Draco, so that the last three words were almost whispered in his ear. "...they have suffered.

"Trials, whether they are such that we have no control over, or those that are self-imposed, make a character stronger. As a person learns to cope with and overcome his trials he achieves a depth of character, and a depth of feeling, that was previously unattainable. This will affect his decisions in the future. Some time ago I mentioned the importance of humility. You may have thought my words harsh, but it is true, that you are not humble enough to learn.

"Each year I see students who carry their burdens of guilt, unhappiness, fear, anger. As they progress through school their burdens become lighter - not because the thing itself has changed, but because the student has greater capacity to carry it. You, however, are among the few that have failed to mature. You've had everything you ever wanted and been protected almost before you realised you needed protection. Such an upbringing rarely makes a man.

"This year, you have begun to suffer. At the start of the year you ignored those of us who tried to guide you, and went your own way. Your response to my little lecture in October was good, but it was not enough. You have a lot of improvement to make before you are mature enough to leave school, let alone move onto Neorancia.

"Face up to your problems Draco. Allow yourself to realise what they are. And get out there and face Pansy and the rest of the school."

Snape went and stood in the corner of the room, holding his chin in his right hand and watching Draco keenly. Draco stared at the floor. He had felt a rise of anger at the suggestion that Snape had been responsible for his change in attitude last October, but as he listened the words made sense. One of those rare glimmers of understanding that had increasingly beset him since he started studying Subneorancia told him that he was hearing the truth.

Snape knew! Whether he had known before or not... Draco felt a sudden urge for Madam Pomfrey's strawberry flavoured medicine. With a consideration he wouldn't have expected from Snape, his Head of House walked over to the door, opened it and left, shutting it firmly behind him.

The grief Draco had vehemently buried since returning to school flowed to the surface, his thoughts dwelling on it in a spasm of self-pity. His Father's imprisonment, his Mother's withdrawal from him and subsequent abandonment of appropriate behaviour. The fear that had been left unspoken about how his Father was being treated and would he ever get out? - and would his parents stay together if he did? And now, to cap everything off, Pansy had seen him half-naked, dancing with a girl and the whole school was sure to know by morning.

Twenty minutes later Draco dried his eyes and left the room with the firm resolve to accept whatever was coming. Snape was talking - apparently quite pleasantly - with Granger just up the corridor as he turned the other way, towards the common room.

*

He stepped through the door, into silence. All eyes were on him as he walked over to the sofa in front of the fire, ignoring the sniggers. A few people started whispering as he sat on the floor, his back turned to Blaise and Pansy who were sprawled across the sofa, as usual.

"Hey Draco!" The tension in the room lifted somewhat as Blaise spoke.

"Blaise."

"What's this I hear about you dancing with little Lisa Turpin?"

"Lisa's a very good dancer."

"So I hear, but you, Draco..."

Draco turned on him with a threatening look. Blaise opened his eyes wide in mock fear.

"You, Draco, are a man. You've got to keep the show up mate."

"Yeah, Pansy can tell you I'm a man." To his surprise Pansy blushed and hid her face.

"What's with the costume then?"

"Showing off everything I've got in the hope that some gorgeous female will burst in unexpectedly." Pansy's face was still hidden, but Draco could see the blush spreading down the back of her neck. Blaise followed his eyes and laughed.

"I'll leave you guys to it - I think I'm embarrassing Pansy."

Draco ignored the stares that followed him to the dorm. Within a few minutes he was asleep, too involved in weird dreams to worry about the next day.

**

"How many gallons of water did we leave there?"

"About forty."

"That's not enough."

"Hermione, no-one else worries about every little detail like you do."

"I just wish we had another boggart to practise on."

"HERMIONE!"

Every-one nearby looked towards the group. Draco was lounging in the sun, his back against a tree, discreetly listening.

"All right." She was making an interesting motion, sort of crossing and waving her hands. Draco was puzzled for a moment until he realised it meant the discussion was finished, over. She rolled over to lie on the grass, reading. Potter, Weasley and Longbottom continued their conversation over her back, but Draco was unable to make out more than the odd word. He got up unobtrusively and sat on a rock, underneath the statue of Godric Gryffindor. They had dropped their voices so much that it was still hard to hear, but in a minute or so he found that he could understand.

"How is your plan going Harry? Is the manticore coming when called yet?"

"Not bad Ron. We'll train him yet, but we need to get Snape out of the way first. How about..." His voice dropped so much that it was completely inaudible, then Hermione joined the conversation again.

"Don't bother with that. Just lob a tickling charm at him, or a few drops of melting potion. By the time someone thinks to restore him, we'll have the manticore in the dorm and he'll never know."

"Hermione, how's the red herring smoking."

"Not bad at all, but it's not quite ready yet. Are you going to check the manticore tonight?'

"Yeah, I reckon he'll need fed."

"Hagrid said you could take a first year if you wanted. Some-one like little Susie or Hadley, they'd never be missed."

Draco stiffened - both first years were in his house.

"Why don't you take Snape?" That was Longbottom's voice. "Then you wouldn't have to feed him again till next week."

"Snape!" Potter snorted. "No self-respecting manticore would touch him."

Draco looked past the statue at them. Granger was sitting with her arms wrapped round her knees, shaking with giggles.

"Do you think if it did eat Snape, we wouldn't have to hand in our Potions homework?"

"Look Ron, once it's safely ensconced in my dorm and we set our little plan of action rolling no-one will be thinking a boutpotionshomework." She said that last bit very fast, before letting out a snort of laughter.

Ah! Now should I confront them with it - or sneak away and pretend I wasn't here. Immediately the choice was made for him - the four of them were on their feet and strolling towards the statue.

"Malfoy! Fancy seeing you here."

Weasley had a most peculiar expression on his face. When Potter spoke he looked back at where they had been sitting, then at Draco, then back where they had been again.

"Er, Malfoy... you didn't happen to hear anything, did you?"

"Hear anything? You mean apart from the plans to smuggle a manticore into Granger's dormitory?"

Potter's lips twitched, he was trying not to smile.

"I did promise you that when I got a manticore I'd introduce you. See you, Ta ra!" Granger waved her hand prettily, then turned and glided away, the boys following.

*

Proctor sat on the table on front of Pansy, blinking and staring and twitching her ears. Draco absentmindedly passed his hand over her head. She turned round and grabbed it, gently biting and chewing at his fingers.

"You've done enough studying surely," he said to Pansy, moving his hand out of Proctor's reach, "are you coming for dinner?"

"As you're properly dressed," she said, looking him up and down, "I will."

Blaise ran to join them as they left the dungeons. By now fewer people stared at Draco as he passed, and he was finding it easier to ignore when they did. Besides, he had told Pansy and Blaise about the Gryffindors' manticore and Pansy had fallen off the sofa laughing - especially when he admitted that 'they probably knew I was behind the statue.'

The three of them were sitting at the table, just about to start eating when Draco suddenly became aware of some-one behind him. A hand lightly touched the back of his neck as Potter leaned over his shoulder.

"Nice tunic, Draco."

He looked over at the Gryffindor table as they sat down. Granger signalled a thumbs up and Potter winked.

"Wha... It's three days since you caught me Pansy. News fair travels slowly in this school." The back of his neck was still tingling from the touch.

"Blaise, will you look at that. Potter's made him blush." Draco pushed his plate away and put his head on the table.

I'll show them. They won't be laughing soon. When he cooled down he sat up and tried to eat, trying to ignore the group of Gryffindors talking animatedly at their table, while glancing towards him.

That evening Proctor curled up on his lap under the table where he was trying to study. The atmosphere of the common room always changed at this time of year. Every-one had exams coming up. OWL and NEWT students were almost tearing their hair out in frustration and Draco could occasionally hear people pacing their dorms or declaiming spells at night when they should have been sleeping. Even Crabbe and Goyle were studying - or trying to. Goyle's book had been upside down for the past half hour and his eyes looked completely blank - as though he was asleep with them open.

Five minutes later the book slipped out of Goyle's hand with a crash that startled everyone and elicited a loud grunt from Goyle. Draco closed his books.

"I'm going for a walk."

*

Dumbledore's Army - the name was a school joke now - were practising their Defence skills in the DADA classroom as he passed. Draco was half inclined to mooch over to the Astronomy tower and look out of the window again, but on second thoughts he turned back and opened the door. The shrivelled witch that taught the class nodded to acknowledge his presence, then turned back to attend to a couple of first years. He sat down to watch. Dumbledore's Army had grown considerably since last year. Most of the Gryffindors were there of course. Cho Chang (Ravenclaw seeker), Luna Lovegood (Ravenclaw lunatic) and a number of Hufflepuffs. No Slytherins at all. That figured. Potter had started the original club and he and his team had made sure no Slytherins were invited, or even knew of it.

Potter himself was sitting with his usual friends, talking. None of them were bothering to practise their hex deflection, except little Ginny who lazily waved her wand every time a hex drifted their way.

The DADA teacher was never still, watching the proceedings with a sharp eye and using her own wand to block and redirect some of the hexes. Draco watched her row a girl who had successfully disarmed - literally - her partner, then she turned towards him, beckoning with a wizened grey hand as she stood beside a sappy kid. Draco reluctantly got up and moved towards them, knowing he was going to be asked to partner the boy. He stared after the teacher as she walked to the next couple and explained a spell, wondering if she could really be over two hundred years old. He was beginning to believe it.

To his surprise, the youngster kept him on his toes for the next ten minutes - he was a good dueller and Draco found himself too busy avoiding hexes to throw very many.

The teacher dismissed them and walked out. The rest of the students left in twos and threes, chattering like a flock of geese. Draco was about to follow them when he realised that Potter and his friends hadn't moved. Aren't they leaving? He sat down again. One Slytherin against five Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw was very bad odds, but he was more curious than fearful.

"Don't you have a home, Malfoy?"

"Don't you?" They had been about to move into the empty space in the middle of the classroom when they realised he was still there.

"We've got some hex deflection to practise."

"Really? I didn't see you trying very hard earlier."

"We mean serious hex deflection, Malfoy."

"Wouldn't want to hurt ickle firsties," cut in Weasley.

"Draco Malfoy, if you stay you will be hurt," said Granger.

"Is that a threat?" Draco squared his shoulders and stood up, trying to look bold. Potter glanced at Weasley, then Granger. Granger looked as though she was trying to hide a grin.

"Merely a warning. We don't need to threaten..." she burst out laughing.

"Leave the guy alone," said Ginny. "The whole school's been staring at him for days."

"Good, time he knew what that was like," said Potter. He turned back to Draco. "Haven't you gone yet?"

Draco shrugged. Neville was standing on one foot, swinging his arms in the air in an attempted - and pathetic - execution of a pirouette. If he'd tried to parody Draco when he was on his own... but with another five people to support him, Draco wasn't stupid enough to reach for his wand. He also resisted the temptation to show Neville how to place his feet correctly - the clumsy oaf was so ugly it made him wince.

"Cupboard," said Luna, pointing. "That's the place for refugees." Hermione nodded.

"Right Malfoy, if you won't sod off you can get in the cupboard and we won't hurt you. Otherwise we won't be held responsible."

"Are you guys crazy?" Draco laughed. The expression on Granger's face suggested that she wasn't joking. "Oh all right, you can have your time alone. I hear you probably won't have much longer, Potter. Enjoy your time on earth." He backed out of the door and stood outside, listening. The little pane of glass burst into a frenzy of colour. What are they doing, air-writing?

No - they were throwing hexes about. Serious hexes, judging by the colours and explosions. He pressed his face against the glass. Jets of light were bouncing around, fast and furious. The six students were moving so fast they looked blurred, as they ducked and jumped the spells. Neville was flat out on the floor within seconds and as he watched Granger collapsed as well. Presumably the last person standing woke them up and reversed the spells - though from the hexes they were using Draco suspected that would be beyond the skill of even Madam Pomfrey or most of the teachers.

He continued on to the Astronomy tower, a slightly wicked idea forming as he did so. That would be a fantastic game for the Slytherin common room. I think I'll let some of the other students in on the idea - just before I leave school next year.

* * * * *

Draco walked passed a tree with long slim branches, dripping with five different types of moss. Some of the strands had come adrift and floated in soft cushions across the path. Curling around the moss two or three different creepers crept up the trunk. One of them coated the tree with little round leaves, on top of the moss.

I wonder what sort of a person Alice Black was. We know so little about her, but she must have had parents. She would have been a little girl once. And after she left school she moved into the highlands of Wester Ross. Who did she take with her? Were they school friends? The commune came later. I think she must have lived in a cave for a while.

Draco was walking slowly, not really noticing the things around him. His mind was in the past, back in the seventeen hundreds, thinking of things he had never seen. Draco had never seen the tiny, ice-cold streams that course through the heather. Miss Black would have found them a sweeter drink than any nectar around today. He had never seen the stark, bleak hills of the North, or the blue-tinged expanse of snowswept hills as far as the eye can see. He didn't know of the cruel sea that fiercely protected its little island gems, or the peat bogs that could swallow a man whole or provide the fuel for his fire. Draco had never smelt the sweet smell of burning peat or made soap from its fine brown ash. He didn't know that to wander abroad in such a place was to know your world and meet the spirits of the earth, sea, fire and air. He didn't know the blessing of a shallow cave when a cold wind blew.

Could it occur to him that in her travels Alice Jane Black met and spoke to families who tended their sheilings high in the hills - a few vegetables, a cow, a pig, a horse? Fertile land carefully nurtured in the summer, abandoned in the winter when the snow swept through the valleys, burying sheep and cattle and freezing the unwary. How could he understand that to these plain, hardworking Muggles she was the witch, the medicine woman who would care for their ills and advise them in their hardship? In time there came others to join her, before she grew old. Witches and wizards who wanted to learn what she had learned only through years of labouring on the soil, communing with the peasants, enduring patiently every weather or affliction life could throw at her.

No history book will reveal such information, nor did Draco know any more than the most basic details of her life. Yet he wants to emulate her? Climbing a hill is a start, a very good start.

* * * * *