Dragon's Kiss

Okay. Here's the next chapter! In addition to adding the chapter…I am looking for a beta-reader…if there's anyone out there (hopefully with some experience because I have NONE J ) please email me at [email protected]. Thanks! And enjoy!

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Hermione dreamed…

She was in a hallway, long and winding. Blinded by the darkness, she stumbled down the corridor, using her hands to guide her. Finally she came to the end of the hallway. There were two doors, one marked Draco and one marked Ron. Simultaneously both doors opened, Each revealing a picture of what her life would be with them, each of them older, wiser, handsomer.

Draco stood in front of a huge, sprawling house, gray marble, with a huge yard filled with flowers, and a bright blue sky that stretched above the pretty scene. Blond, curly haired children frolicked in the grasses, chasing butterflies and each other. Draco laughed good- naturedly as a blond child wrapped himself adoringly around his leg. He turned to Hermione and she suddenly saw how much more handsome he could be if he'd just smile once in awhile. He said nothing to her… simply smiled and laughed with the little boy, now in his arms. Hermione smiled sadly back, and waved feebly, although she had a hunch that she was not where they could see her.

Ron sat on the floor of a dark, dank flat. Outside rain poured down. The furniture in the flat was unmatched, crude colors contrasting with ugly, tasteless rugs. The wallpaper was peeling, the floor dirty and uncleaned. He looked up at her with eyes full of despair. He tried to speak, hoarse words that she couldn't make out. Desperately she struggled forward, trying to reach him, touch him, find out what was wrong. Dimly she heard Draco shout her name, trying in vain to hold her close to him, pull her to him. She saw the pretty picture of her future with him disappear, leaving him in front of the same house- although with no lawn and no bright sky. Ron's picture didn't change at all.

And then she realized. The future of both of these men depended on who she, Hermione Granger, chose to love. And suddenly, she was very, very afraid.

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Draco sat next to lake. It was the morning after Hermione's fall, and it had been raining for hours. Classes had started for the day yet he hadn't gone inside. He hadn't even brought his cloak with him; so he was sitting in the rain, getting his perfect hair wet and his neatly pressed robes muddy and soaking.

Which was the first sign to Harry that something was wrong. He had gotten word at the end of dinner last night that Hermione had been injured, and had left his shepherd's pie to go to the Hospital Wing only to find that visitor's hours were over. When returning to the Great Hall, he found it empty, the plates cleared, the students gone. Giving up, he'd retreated to the dormitories. This morning he'd gotten up early and once again allowed his feet to travel over the way to the Hospital Wing only to be caught by Bill, who had invited him in to discuss the location of the essay Harry was supposed to turn in the previous day, which wasn't, as Bill put it "anywhere near the others on my desk, nor in the classroom." So Harry had been given a detention by Bill ( I can't believe Bill would do that to me! Harry had thought indignantly), and had gotten out of Bill's office just as the warning bell sounded for first classes. So the fact that Harry had not had breakfast, nor finished dinner the day before, coupled with the fact that he had not been able to see how injured Hermione was, had made Harry very sour indeed. At break he had left the castle and walked down to the lake, hoping to see Hagrid, who, as it turned out, wasn't in his hut. It had been as he was turning to go back up to the castle that he'd spotted Draco.

And so there he was, standing behind a tree watching his archenemy wallow in what seemed to be overwhelming sadness. He just hoped Draco wouldn't start bawling…the last thing Harry wanted to do was comfort a Slytherin who looked as though he'd just lost his best friend. Like he had one to begin with, Harry thought, rolling his eyes and preparing to turn away. But something stopped him, and made him look closer at the boy who sat not yards way from him. Sighing, he stuffed his hands into his robe pockets and, trying to seem nonchalant and uncaring, headed over in Draco's direction.

The silver-haired boy did not even notice his approach. In fact, it was only when Harry spoke that Draco looked up and take note of his presence.

"Oh. Potter," he said in a very un-Draco, un-evil way that took Harry totally by surprise.

"Malfoy," he replied, once the surprise had gone away. "I didn't see you at breakfast." This of course, was a complete lie, as Harry had not been to breakfast.

Malfoy, however, did not appear to have caught on to that fact. "Searching for me?" he asked, the touch of Malfoy sarcasm slinking back into his voice. "I'm so hurt," he said in mock sadness. "That you didn't see me…and I waved to you and everything." He stood up, his blonde head brushing the lowest branches of the tree he had been sitting under, shaking droplets like tears onto his face and hair.

Harry resisted to roll his eyes. Instead he turned his eyes upward, to look at the taller boy, who had apparently recovered from whatever sorrow that had afflicted him.

"Well Potter. I have to get to the library. Research… You know…something that people with brains do." Draco said, starting up the grassy, wet knoll.

"Oh really? I thought it was just something that people with no love life did." Harry had struck a nerve. He saw Draco go rigid, but the taller boy did not turn. He simply stood for a long moment. Then, slowly, a reply filtered back to him.

" Don't talk about what you don't know Potter…it makes you seem even more ignorant," Draco said softly, his words calm and his face impassive. With that he headed back up to the castle, head bent against the wind, silver locks blowing back against his face.

Harry watched him until he vanished into the blackness of the castle interior.

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Draco's father had told him once never to skip classes. "It is to juvenile of an act to play," Lucius had told his son." Malfoys are capable of so much more evil." But that had been a long time ago, in an age where Draco still feared and was awed by his powerful father. But time had passed and Draco had outgrown such fear and awe and moved on to annoyance and sarcasm where his father was concerned. And so Draco disregarded his father's "advice" and skipped Potion's, heading instead to the place that he had told Potter he'd be.

Draco was quite fond of the library. It was quiet and large with big tables that were fairly comfortable if you wanted to catch a snooze in between classes, and big books full of evil spells and curses that Draco enjoyed perusing during his free time.

It was also, he knew, a home for other books. Reference books in the restricted section. And in the restricted section was an entire section devoted to medical spells and curses, counter-spells and counter-curses. He hummed a little tune, trying to appear as though he was up to something good, and sat down at a table. With one eye on Madam Pince, who had her back turned towards him, and one eye on the piece of parchment he was forging a name on, he hastily scrawled a signature.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, stepping up and boldly tapping the librarian on the shoulder. Madam Pince turned, looking irritated. "I have a note from Professor Snape…I need a few books out of the restricted section on medical spells and curses." He waved the signature in front of her. "I have a note and everything." He shot her a mouth-watering Malfoy smile, hoping to charm her into not looking at the note too much. It worked.

The toothy old librarian smiled. "You've got your father's smile there young man. Knew him back in the day…sweet child Lucius," Draco surpressed a smile. If father's sweet I'd hate to know what Potter's father and his friends were…. horrid devils. He snickered to himself. "He was in here all the time. Hated the place, but liked to work in here," she said, unlocking the gate to the Restricted section. Draco listened with half an ear, nodding occasionally.

"Ah…okay," she said, handing him about a dozen large volumes. "When you're through browsing through those just give me a wave and I'll get more for you." Draco's eyebrows rose.

"More?" he echoed. "How many books like these are there in this library?"

"Oh...lots and lots. A lot of the greatest medi-wizards graduated from this school…in fact, it was possibly the greatest who kindly donated all of those books you hold in your hand…plus the others on the shelf." She peered around almost mistily at the rows upon rows of books. "Ah…So you're taken care of?" Draco nodded, shifting the heavy books to one side. "Good. There's a table you can work at over there in that corner where you won't be disturbed."

Draco grunted a thanks and staggered over to the corner, letting the books tumble out of his arms. Collapsing into a chair, he thought in despair that he'd never be able to finish off the stack of books before the day was over. And then he realized that it wasn't really a choice. Hermione needs me…she needs me in a way no other person has ever needed me…And I…I am going to be there for her… And with a new determination, he seized a book (in a very Hermione-like way), and flipped to the index, searching for a curse called Dragon's Kiss.

He found it moments later, an entire three pages full of information. The first page restated what he'd been told by Madam Pomfrey…. You must prove yourself worthy of their love, and when you have broken that spell, the girl or boy whom you love will love you unconditionally. And of course the catch was stated as well: If you do not prove yourself worthy by the next full moon, your love will stayed sealed in darkness for all eternity.

He frowned as he reread it. How the hell am I supposed to prove myself worthy? He wondered, flipping the thick, manila page. On the next page he found an answer.

"How To Prove Yourself Worthy" he read aloud. This is too easy…something's up. He eyed the page suspiciously before reading on.

The Dragon's Kiss is well known for it's catch- after all, how easy is it to prove yourself to your one true love? Below are some example on how wizards and witches throughout magical history managed to free a loved one from the awful curse of the Dragon's Kiss. On the next page you will read the stories of five warlocks and witches who did not break the curse in time.

Draco decided not to read that page. He was, however, interested in what the page he had begun to read had to offer him. With keen curiosity he read further, unaware that the day was slipping through his fingers.

Sir Tristam of Bailey, a wizened wizard who lived in the time of Merlin was an old man when he fell in love with a young girl. Alas, however, he and her father had been rivals when they were younger, and the girl's father refused Tristam her hand in marriage. She fell under the curse and Tristam became at a loss on how to help her. Finally, he decided to go and see the girl's father, and to talk about the girl's fate. In the process of talking to him, Tristam and the father became more and more chivalrous towards each other, and in the end, they became good friends, which was enough to break the spell. A week after the girl awoke the two were married.

Draco frowned. I could do this I suppose…be nicer to her parents…but that really goes against everything Malfoy…and more than that, it doesn't really seem enough. Inside his head Draco laughed. "Goes against everything Malfoy? That's rich. As if this whole Dragon's-Kiss-I'm-In-Love-With-A-Gryfinndor isn't already against everything Malfoy. With a shock Draco realized that a month ago, even a week ago, Gryfinndor wouldn't have been in that sentence…in it's place would have mudblood. How quickly your colors change…he thought.

His eyes skimmed the rest of the page. Nothing else seemed to fit his situation. He groaned tiredly and shook his head, turning to glance out the window. With a shock he noticed it was already five o'clock. He looked around and caught sight of other students, in the library to study. Hastily he put away the medical books, disappointed that he hadn't really found anything useful, and wary of prying eyes that would wonder what he was doing. No one even glanced his way. Gloomily he shoved his hands into his robe pockets and headed out of the library, Hermione on his mind. He met no one as his feet traveled the path to the Hospital Wing. Everyone's probably at dinner, he decided. So now is a perfect time to visit my "true love".

Upon entering the Hospital Wing he found a visitor already beside Hermione's bedside. A certain black-haired, green-eyed visitor and the sight of Harry sitting beside Hermione's prone form made Draco's blood boil. He was, however, smart enough to know that if he caused a scene here all it would do would make the Gryfinndor suspicious. So instead of going over to Harry and pounding the other boy's face in, he slunk over to a chair near the window and concentrated on watching the sun set.

At last, at long, long last, Harry stood up, took hold of Hermione's hand one last time, and left the Hospital Wing. Finally, Draco thought, creeping over to Harry's vacated chair and sitting down on the edge of it. His nerves seemed to extra jumpy today…although perhaps he was tired.

He sat watching Hermione for awhile. Someone had cleaned her up since he'd brought her in the day before. Her hair had been brushed back from her face and her robes righted. Hi heart tightened to see her lying so still…almost dead. It's up to me to save her…The truth had never been so clear to Draco. And I don't think I can do it…

"Mister Malfoy? Visiting hours are over. You need to leave." Madam Pomfrey had come out of her office.

"Alright. Thank you," Draco said, gazing dispiritedly at Hermione. He gathered up his cloak, which he had flung over his chair and stood to leave. Making sure Madam Pomfrey had left, he dropped his head quickly and gave Hermione a kiss, a kiss unlike he had bestowed upon any other woman ever before in his life…A kiss of gentleness, sweetness and promise…and with that kiss, he took his leave.