A Surprising Safety

Chapter Six: Afternoon at the Manor

If at first you don't succeed, find out if the loser gets anything.

The flames rose up, and the dizzying spins of Floo travel enveloped Hermione. She felt a thrill of joy, of success and relief.

Until she hit a brick wall.

The green flames were still licking around her, and she couldn't see Malfoy Manor, but there was a brick wall in front of her.

Hermione tried again. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

Nothing.

"The Burrow!" she exclaimed. They must have it blocked off for safety, that's all.

Another brick wall stood in the place of where she could enter the Burrow. Hermione tried to think of other places to go.

"Diagon Alley!"

A brick wall. The same for "Gringotts", "Hogwarts", "the Longbottoms" and even "Snape Manor" (which she felt was worth a try). All had brick walls. Hermione was forced to return to Malfoy Manor, as the Floo powder was beginning to wear off.

The fireplace spit her back out onto the carpet, and she coughed up the soot inhaled during the nauseating ride. For a few minutes, she didn't move and allowed herself a moment to indulge in self-pity.

It was a long shot anyway, Hermione consoled. Did you really think that the Malfoys would have an open Floo system?

Feeling very disappointed and rather lonely, Hermione stood and went back into the ballroom. Wandering around the house wasn't an option, as she'd only get lost again, but there was a door leading out to the lawn and gardens. I don't think that door was even there before, Hermione thought.

She put her hand on the doorknob and pushed. It opened onto an empty patio. She wondered if Alice in Wonderland ever felt like this, and nervously let the door shut behind it. It clicked closed, and she tried to open it again. It wasn't locked - one positive thing thus far in the day.

The fresh air felt wonderful, though the humidity would frizz her hair up before too long. Hermione slipped her shoes off and carried them, walking out onto the lawn and into the sunshine. The light soaked her in warmth, and a smile came to her face. Deciding to take a walk towards the gardens, she slipped her shoes back on and set out for the rows of hedges, trees and flowers that were about five hundred feet away.

You wouldn't think that this belongs to one of the darkest wizards in Britain, Hermione thought. A hummingbird zipped past, and then dipped it's beak into a flower, wings still beating into a blur.

The gardens were truly beautiful. Gazebos, fountains, and benches tucked away or grandly displayed provided opportunities to rest and admire the view. Steps and pathways traipsed through different areas; rose gardens, a maze (which Hermione carefully avoided), another lawn area which rolled up to fruit trees. It seems endless, Hermione thought, as she rested in an olive grove, like a garden of Eden.

Some of it had to be magical - olive trees didn't normally grow beside lush lawns and rose gardens, and many flowers and trees were blooming out of season. How much was magical - that she didn't know the answer to. So far, everything had appeared very Muggle, no magical animals or plants. No fairies, gnomes (though she supposed the Malfoys wouldn't allow them), porlocks or auguries. She thought she'd seen aethonons earlier, winging around high in the sky, but hadn't located a stable. They'd be wonderful to see up close....

Peace - that was what this garden was, a balance to the danger and darkness of the Manor above it. A counterpoint to all the negative energy bursting from that home and its occupants. Feng shui for the dark wizard.

A bee zipped past, and a light breeze whispered through the trees. The olive Hermione was leaning against was curved enough that she could lean into it. The sun felt warm on her arms and legs, and her eyes began to drift closed.

It was only a few minutes before the silence and relaxation gave way to blissful sleep.

Hermione yawned, and opened her eyes, stretching slightly. It was apparently still the afternoon - she couldn't have slept for more then an hour.

For a few minutes she didn't move, instead choosing to lie against the tree and let the sleepiness ebb from her body. Drowsiness began to intrude on her mind again.

Her eyes fluttered shut in sleep for the second time.

She dreamed this time. Once, Hermione had read about dreams. According to Muggle scientific research, you often dreamed about things you wouldn't think about consciously. Things you weren't willing to think about, or things you subconsciously avoided - even things you'd forgotten.

It was little surprise that Hermione's dreams were a bloodbath of screams and black cloaks, spells and running. So much running - conversations with Ginny as they ran, straying to everything from their pursuers to the Yule Ball fourth year. Her parents, they'd stood off to the side, just watching. The dream took her away from everyone, but not before the sane part of her dream self clutched futilely at them, trying to hold on to their faces.

Her eyes snapped open, and she lurched forward, giving a slight cry before she noticed she was awake. Gasping, pulse beating erratically she struggled to calm herself down. The dream faded away, except for the images of her parents. She didn't remember dreaming about Ginny.

When Hermione felt well enough to stand up again, she did, the blood rushing through her and spots blurring her vision.

She still felt so sleepy though, more then she had all afternoon. It was warm and lovely outside. Perfect for a nap. You already took a nap, she scolded herself sternly.

Hermione stumbled out of the olive grove, and when she hit the gravel path, felt instantly alert. It was like a caffeine shot from the ultimate Starbucks coffee drink.

"It was the grove!" she exclaimed aloud. That's what was making me sleepy! She shivered at the thought of what would have happened if she'd fallen asleep again. Then she shuddered again because she didn't know what would have happened.

Hermione resolved to stay on the path from then on. It's so easy to let down your guard, though, when faced with something that's simple or beautiful.

The nap seemed to have woken her up to her surroundings. Now, the trees that had seemed so innocent appeared to be horribly infested with bowtruckles. The roses liked like the Sleeping Beauty thorn variety, and she thought several times that she saw things watching her. Paranoia, probably, but better safe then sorry.

Walking quickly towards the house, the path took Hermione back to the maze. She turned around to look back. She could go back the other way; that would be the sensible thing. But it seemed like if she went through the maze, then she'd get out sooner - she could see the outside of the garden from here. It was perhaps one hundred yards through the maze. Even if the maze didn't go that way, she could always blast the bushes out of the way. She wavered, leaning towards the maze, and then looking back at the path. Don't be stupid, her mind chided, save the heroics for when you have a useable wand and you're not a captive of the Malfoys.

Regretful, Hermione turned around and started to backtrack. She passed the olive grove quickly, not even looking at it. The leaves fluttered in the wind. She kept her eyes on the gravel path, which seemed the safest, and most practical option.

Halfway back, she saw the aethenons again. Tilting her head up, she shielded her eyes from the sun and watched them turning and soaring above her. They were lower this time - five of the winged horses - and she could even hear the whinnies of one. One dove towards the ground, twisting so that it soared back up when it was twenty feet above the ground. Hermione gasped, and her eyes widened. She watched in rapture.

If she hadn't been so entranced, she would have heard wing beats, but as it was the aethenon that hurtled down over her escaped her attention until it had shadowed her, and the hooves whooshed through the air above her head.

Hermione shrieked and ducked, whipping out her wand as she crouched down. Seeing it wing away out of the corner of her eye, she stood, taking a defensive stance (Harry had taught her it during the D.A. meetings the year before) and scanned the sky for the offending animal. She spotted it quickly, turning to fly back towards her, its back to the sun. She didn't move, pointing her wand at it, and shouting, "Impedimenta! IMPEDIMENTA!" The spell shot towards the aethenon, and it slowed to a snail's pace, floating forward slowly in the air.

Hermione began backing away, peering up at it. She had difficultly seeing more then a silhouette of it, being as it was in the sun. Thus the ground out, "Finite Incantatem!" came as a complete surprise.

The aethenon continued its swift descent. Hermione again cried, "Impedimenta!" and this time stopped it only fifty feet from her. She could now see there was a rider on its back, in a black cloak.

"Stop that!" the rider yelled. He - for the voice was male - struggled to move his arm to the appropriate position for the counterspell.

"Who are you?" Hermione demanded, preparing to cast the jinx again.

"Well, I'm not trying to kill you, I would have done that already if I meant to!" the man exclaimed in exasperation. "Finite Incantatem!"

Hermione almost cast the Impediment curse again, but her heart kept her from doing so. She had a slowly growing hope that perhaps this was a rescuer - someone from the Order, a Auror, anyone.

The winged horse and rider galloped through the air to land on the ground, the aethenon snuffling and pawing the ground. It clearly wanted to jump back into the sky.

"Easy, easy," the rider murmured. Hermione could see he had pale hair - a Malfoy, then, not a rescuer. She took several steps closer, her eyes still full of spots from looking so closely at the sun. He turned.

It was Draco Malfoy. No, not a rescuer. He held the reins in his left hand, and his right hand was undoing the clasp on his cloak, then brushing silver hair out of his eyes. The aethenon bumped its nose against his neck, flapping its wings and ruffling their feathers. Draco soothed it, petting its neck.

Hermione was in awe, so much so that her face didn't even hide it. She and Harry had ridden Buckbeak, and the thestrals, but an aethenon was different. They could fly higher, faster, were easier to train, and there was simply...more of a draw to a winged horse then a hippogriff, and it would certainly be more pleasant then flying on an invisible beast. And Draco had been riding one. She was deeply jealous of that opportunity, and looked longingly at the saddle, forgetting the garden and the near attack. She wanted to ride that aethenon.

Draco watched her, having calmed the horse. She was staring at the aethenon. He'd practically attacked her, technically had, as he'd resisted her spells, but all she was paying attention to was the stupid winged horse. She seemed to be restraining herself from running over and cooing to it.

"I didn't know you could ride aethenons," Hermione remarked, her eyes not moving from the animal. It looked at her, whinnied, and snorted. She melted. Draco watched in bewilderment. Granger completely losing it for a horse? Who would have thought.

"Hapless Hagrid covered them in Care of Magical Creatures," Draco answered.

"No, I know that," Hermione replied impatiently. "I meant that I didn't know you rode them, Malfoy."

"My family owns eight of them. We have a stable on the north side of the property," Draco explained. The aethenon nipped at its shoulder, not aware of all the attention bestowed on it. "I learned how to ride them once I knew how to fly."

"Is it much like flying on a broomstick?" Hermione asked.

"No. Brooms are controlled purely by you, and are temperamental according to their rider. Aethenons respond like horses, and are intelligent. They take instructions from you, but must be trained. Their temperament and ability varies with the animal. And they can't fly as far as brooms, because they need to rest. The farthest you could go with one is probably to the border of Wales. They have bursts of energy, but aren't built for endurance. Most prefer to soar around in the sky. You need an abraxan for that."

Draco's lengthy explanation impressed her. He clearly knew a lot about flying horses. Odd, but fitting for an aristocrat, Hermione thought.

The aethenon fidgeted, eager to get back into the sky. It hated being still. Seeing her opportunity about to take off into the clouds if Draco let go of the reins, Hermione threw aside all pride and inhibitions, letting her Gryffindor side totally take over. "Can I ride him?" she asked desperately.

"You couldn't handle it yourself," Draco scoffed. "I bet you've never even been on a horse."

"I've ridden a hippogriff," Hermione argued.

"You're terrible with a broom," Draco shot back.

"I'm not terrible! Just average. Most witches and wizards aren't great with a broom, Malfoy," she insisted.

Draco stood silent for a moment, thinking it over. Hermione hated being at his mercy, but I want to ride that aethenon. No matter what!

"Alright," he finally replied. "You can ride it. But I fly with you."

Hermione barely hesitated. "Fine." She strode over, and prepared to swing into the saddle. Unfortunately, the horse was much larger then she was, and this proved too difficult.

"Need help?" Draco asked, smirking.

A "no" was on the tip of her tongue, but Hermione smiled tightly, said "Yes" and allowed Draco to put his hands on her waist and boost her into the saddle. This already putting her high above the ground, Hermione searched for reins to clutch. There were none.

"What am I supposed to hold onto?" she cried.

"Aethenons don't tolerate reins. It's hard enough to train them to allow themselves to be saddled. Move back, so I can get on," Draco answered.

As the aethenon shifted beneath her, Hermione nervously scooted to the back of the saddle. Draco swung up in front of her, and grasped the winged horse's mane.

"Hold on," he ordered.

"Not - not to you," Hermione spluttered out. Draco shrugged, nudged the aethenon with his foot and Hermione scrambled to throw her arms around his waist as the creature reared and galloped forward, wings beating hard as it leaped into the air.

She gasped as they hurtled up, the aethenon flapping it's wings, and turning to wheel happily through the air. The other winged horses soared in circles towards them, one swooping above their heads.

Hermione's jaw dropped open in awe and wonder. This was fantastic. She held happily on to Draco as the aethenon flew through the air, spiraling higher and then diving down. This is nothing like a broom, Hermione thought. Harry would give his up in an instant for a ride like this.

They skimmed the surface of the lake, Hermione and Draco's reflections zooming into a blur on the glassy stillness of the water. Then they were soaring sky bound again, and Hermione's robes were flapping hard against her, hair fluttering in her face.

Eventually, Draco nudged the aethenon and it glided in to the ground, taking a few galloping steps before settling impatiently to let them off. The moment both Draco and Hermione had dismounted, and Draco had pulled its saddle off, it sprung back into the air.

Hermione tilted her head up, watching it whinny and join its fellows in the sky.

"Thank you," she said honestly.

Draco shrugged and muttered something under his breath. Hermione was intrigued. It wasn't a "your welcome" but he hadn't bit her head off either. How odd.

"How will we get back without it?" she added, somewhat stupidly, still dazed by the flight.

"Walking," Draco retorted. "How else did you get here?"

So much for a softer side.

"But that'll take another hour at least...." Hermione's voice trailed off. She didn't want to spend an hour with Draco Malfoy. It would be a very awkward hour - what do you say to the son of your kidnapper? To a boy who had always been your enemy? To a wizard who was powerful and had the penetrating grey eyes....

Draco rolled his eyes in disgust. "God forbid you have to walk a little, Granger." But he removed a ring on his left hand, an old silver one with the Malfoy crest engraved in the emerald that glittered on top of it. Grabbing her hand, he whispered words, tightly grasping the ring with his free hand.

Hermione saw the world begin to blur around her as they moved faster and faster, literally flying above the path back towards the Manor, although their feet didn't move. Draco continued whispering words, and Hermione leaned in, wanting to know what he was saying. It sounded French....

They stopped abruptly, on the pavilion Hermione had entered on her first night at the Manor. Having already started to lean in, Hermione's body continued falling forward due to her momentum. She threw her arms out in front of her to avoid toppling onto Draco, but instead she managed to tackle him to the ground, both landing together in a heap.

Draco looked extremely surprised and ruffled, his mouth dropping open at the girl who'd collapsed on top of him. Hermione tried to scramble up, but elbowed Draco as she was doing so.

"Christ! Watch it!" he shouted, his breath whooshing out of him.

Hermione hurriedly rolled off of him, kneeling beside Draco and yanking him upright, nearly wrenching his arm out of his socket. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

Draco stared back at Hermione in shock. She'd tackled him to the ground, elbowed him so hard he'd lost his breath, and then nearly ripped his shoulder out of place. But she wanted to know if he was okay?

Hermione bit her lip, pulling it between her teeth, waiting for him to answer her. "Well, are you, Malfoy?" she cried.

Slowly realizing that she was much more complex then he'd originally thought Draco nodded. Then, overcome by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, he began to laugh.