The Serpent and the Eagle

Chapter Nine - Insult To Injury

[Hero of the Day]

[Metallica]

Mama they try and break me

The window burns to light the way back home
A light that warms no matter where they've gone

They're off to find the hero of the day
But what if they should fall by someone's wicked way?
Still the window burns
Time so slowly turns
And someone there is sighing
Keepers of the flames
Do you feel your name?
Did you hear your babies crying?
Mama they try and break me
Still they try and break me

'Scuse me while I tend to how to feel
These things return to me that still seem real
Now deservingly this easy chair
But the rocking stopped by wheels of despair

Don't want your aid
But the fist I make
For you, can't hold off fear
No not on me
So please excuse me
While I tend to how I feel

But now the dreams and waking screams
That ever last the night
So build a wall
Behind it crawl
And hide until it's light
So can't you hear your babies crying now?

Still the window burns
Time so slowly turns
And someone there is sighing
Keepers of the flames
Can't you hear your name?
Did you hear your babies crying?

But now the dreams and waking screams
That ever last the night
So build a wall
Behind it crawl
And hide until it's light
So can't you hear your babies crying now?

Mama they try and break me
Mama they try and break me
Mama they try and break me
Mama they try
Mama they try
Mama they try and break me
Mama they try and break me
Mama they try and break me
Mama they try
Mama they try

Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, Early October 1996

Hermione awoke with a moan of pain. Her lifeless right arm felt like shards of glass were sliding deep into her flesh.

Barely two hours ago, it had lost all its power of movement when Madam Pomfrey removed the bone with a simple spell. She and Ron had howled with laughter making it bend backwards and forwards. The deep gash had been healed in moments, so Ron had examined the arm and given her his sound medical opinion - 'It's grand!'

Ron. Hermione looked at him and smiled fondly. He had fallen asleep in the wooden chair by her bed, his head on her pillow and his hand resting on her head. She felt his palm and fingers gently cradling the crown of her head, a strand of nut-brown hair entwined around his fingers as though he had been toying with it.

Pain blossomed again in her arm. She winced and rubbed the skin gingerly, hoping to ease the throbbing. She gasped as she was rewarded with blinding pain. She jerked her good arm away quickly, shaking the bed.

With her movement, Ron awoke. 'Hermione,' he said sleepily. 'Are you all right?'

'The bones are beginning to grow back,' she whispered. 'It hurts like anything! How did Harry go through this and still come out sane?'

Ron chuckled. 'He told me all about it,' he said, his voice familiar and reassuring through the fog of pain. 'Just focus on something that makes you happy,' he added. 'If you focus all of your attention on that one thing, you'll begin to ignore the pain. It's like when you're in History of Magic, you just learn to tune out Binns and play hangman with Harry until the bell goes.'

Hermione laughed despite herself. 'In case you hadn't noticed, I take notes in History of Magic,' she scolded.

Ron shook his head fondly. 'Ah, there's your problem! You didn't learn how to tune him out early enough.'

They both laughed appreciatively at the joke and stopped as Hermione winced again.

'Come here,' Ron said kindly. He clambered onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Hermione. She relaxed in his grip, and left her boneless arm sprawling down by her side, as limp as an overcooked noodle.

'Is that any better?' he asked, stroking her head absently.

'Things are a little quieter up here, at any rate.' She smiled, indicating her head.

'Jolly good then,' Ron teased, deliberately throwing the stereotypical British response.

He watched her closing her eyes peacefully as she shifted her back into a more comfortable curve of his torso. She suddenly flinched as a particularly violent spasm stabbed her damaged limb.

'Have you figured out what the thing that makes you happy is?' Ron asked gently.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyebrows sloping in pity and her lips and eyes betraying her true feelings, emotions she had sought so long and hard to hide from him. How could he understand so much, and yet so little?

'I think I have,' she confessed.

'Good!' Ron encouraged. 'Tell me what it is, and I'll see if I can help you think of it more.'

'Oh, Ron...' Hermione moaned. 'You're almost too dense to be allowed.'

'That's a little uncalled-for,' Ron protested.

'Despite your denseness,' Hermione continued, 'you make me happy. Despite all the arguments, all the times you've called me a "know-all", despite each and every time you and Harry ganged up on me, and even despite the fact that you haven't noticed that I've been dropping so many hints lately that you could build a ruddy palace with them...' She trailed off. Ron was looking intensely confused.

'Oh, bugger it!' she exclaimed, and leaned close to him.

His blue eyes widened as she pressed her lips against his, and he sighed once he realised what was happening. His lips pushed back at hers, moving in perfect synchronicity, the pressure of the other's lips feeling delicious on their own, the unique scent they so strongly identified with each other so close they could physically taste it, and the sensation of her hair on his cheek, his hand on her face, skin against skin, eyelashes, damp brows, noses and chins banging together in their haste and desperation...

And he smelled, oh, he smelled warm and reassuring in her pain, and his hair smelled like honey and his aftershave had just the right blend of spice and sweetness, just like him. Ron buried his face in her hair and neck, descending his kisses across her jawbone and down to her neck, savouring the heady aroma he always associated with Hermione - parchment and ink, mingled with some indescribable sweetness that made him think of a lazy summer's afternoon, which was ironic, considering that Hermione was anything but lazy. He pressed his fingers against her cheek and kissed her forehead, once on each temple and again in the middle.

Hermione began to shout some well chosen swear words. The pain had reached its zenith and was threatening to rip her arm in two.

'Do you think,' Hermione panted, 'that I've made myself clear at last?'

'Well,' Ron said. 'I think perhaps you should kiss me once more, just to make sure I'm in no confusion.'

'You're so bloody cheeky!' she said with a wry smile.

'And you're still a know-all,' Ron rejoined. 'But I'm glad, 'cos if you weren't such a know-all then there's no way you'd be able to kiss like that!'

Hermione allowed herself a laugh. 'I suppose you do know how to do one thing right, after all,' she teased. 'Shall we try it again?'

'It goes without saying!' Ron replied. So wonderful to have her cradled against his body, their forms seeming to fit in a way he had never previously encountered with any other girl. So thrilling to feel those lips physically moving against his in a perfect rhythm, one he had only ever dreamed about prior to this moment.

Nothing could spoil this for them now...

A light flared in the room, startling them both.

'I might have known!' Madam Pomfrey shouted. 'Get out, get out this instant!'

Ron's face burned in the harsh light as he scrambled off the bed, stooping to pick up the bag of Bertie Botts' Every-Flavour Beans he had dropped. Hermione admired the view.

'Miss Granger, I am surprised at you,' the matron admonished.

Hermione grinned guiltily at Ron as he straightened up.

'I'll visit you tomorrow, all right?' he asked, kissing her hand.

'Less of that, you pair!' Madam Pomfrey shrieked, scandalised. 'I'll have to report you for this, you know. And the two of you prefects! Whatever is the world coming to?'

She continued prattling on about standards and decency long after Ron had scuttled out of the room. Hermione lay dreamily on her starched hospital bed, ignoring the ranting and lost in thoughts of her love, proudly saying over and over in her mind, 'I've finally kissed Ron! I've finally kissed him!'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'I'm reckoning you found Hermione, then, yeah?'

Ron glanced up guiltily from the portrait hole. Harry's head was watching him from the sofa with a conspiratorial smile, his hair tumbled on his scalp like freshly tossed hay. The sofa's back faced the portrait hole, and it seemed that Harry had been asleep there. It certainly explained why his hair looked more electrocuted than normal.

'Yeah,' Ron admitted.

'Why so late back?' Harry pushed, his grin broadening.

'Well...' Ron's face flushed crimson right to his ears.

'You scored?' Harry chuckled.

'Well... Hey, wait a second!' Ron retorted. 'What do you mean by "scored"?'

'I mean: you kissed?' Harry replied.

'Yeah, but that's not important right now,' Ron protested vainly.

'Yeah, right!' Harry guffawed. 'You two have been pining for each other for years now, and you finally kiss and then you start spouting rubbish about it not being a big deal? That's like someone telling me that Voldemort's just a bump in the road! Where is she anyway? Straightening her robes?'

Ron lost his temper. 'Hermione was attacked!' he raged. 'That's why I'm more concerned with other things than sex talk. All right with you, mate?'

Suddenly, Ginny's pale face joined Harry's on top of the sofa.

'Hermione was attacked?' she gasped. 'What happened? Who did it?'

'Ginny?' Ron asked. His brows knit in confusion and shot into his hairline as the realisation dawned. The pieces of the puzzle slotted into place, almost making an audible click as his face transformed from a worried red to an ashy white. 'No, I'm not even going to ask why you're there...' He sank wearily into an armchair and rubbed his hand against his face. He had the appearance of a world-weary old man, bent and haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his freckles stood out starkly against his ashen skin.

'Forget that, is Hermione ok?' Ginny snapped.

'She is now,' Ron replied. 'She's in the hospital wing. Her arm was very badly broken, Gin, I could see the bones...and oh God, the blood...' he trailed off and looked away.

Ginny and Harry exchanged a glance. Harry got to his feet and shuffled over to Ron. Crouching by the armchair, Harry took the liberty of patting his friend on the arm in a comforting fashion.

'Easy, Ron, easy,' Harry soothed. 'Let it come at its own pace.'

'I found her there,' Ron continued eventually. 'She was just lying in the corridor. I tripped over her and fell to the ground. When I realised it was her, I thought she was dead. It was awful, Harry, it felt like my world had just ended and You-Know...sorry, Voldemort, had just won the war. It felt that bad!'

Ginny wrapped reassuring arms around her brother's neck and kissed his red-crowned head.

'I woke her up with an enervating spell, and she started to... She was c-crying! Hermione, crying!' he stammered. 'I think it was out of pain, but it could have been because she was afraid, too. I asked her what happened and who did it, and she said she couldn't remember. I think someone hit her with a memory charm. You know our Hermione, never one to forget anything!'

The three of them smiled fondly.

'What happened then?' Ginny prompted gently.

'But I brought her to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey let me stay cause Hermione had to have her bones removed and grown back because the break was so bad, like you did in second year, Harry,' Ron glanced at his friend for confirmation.

'That's right, yeah. How'd she cope with the pain? It's awful...'

'She woke up a while ago,' Ron said. 'The pain was getting bad, so I tried to help her forget about it...'

'And that's how you ended up kissing, yeah?' Harry teased.

Ron grinned. 'Well...yeah, actually,' he admitted.

'Men!' Ginny said dramatically, throwing her eyes heavenwards.

'Shut up, you love us,' said Harry confidently.

'Ah, but you love us women more!' Ginny rejoined triumphantly. 'So Hermione's ok?' she asked Ron.

'Yeah, she's fine,' the youngest Weasley male replied. 'Extremely fine. So fine, in fact, I'll have trouble sleeping tonight without an icy cold shower.'

'Right so, I'm off to bed!' declared Ginny with an exaggerated sleepy stretch. 'Goodnight, Ron. Night, Harry.'

'Where's my kiss?' Harry demanded.

'I think you've had enough for tonight. Don't want you getting addicted now, do we?' the redhead teased, blowing a kiss to him. Harry caught it and placed it to his lips with a saucy wink.

Ginny giggled and whispered, 'Love you!' as she mounted the stairs.

'Love you more!' Harry said.

'Whatever,' Ginny laughed, disappearing up the stair with a rustle of robes.

Ron shook his head. 'You two are great with each other,' he admitted.

'Oh, so you're not going to club my head in for laying hands and/or lips on your little sister?' asked Harry.

Ron laughed. 'As I said before, as long as you don't hurt her. Fred and George can get quite nasty when provoked!'

'How about you?' Harry asked. 'I've never seen you this incensed...except when you and Hermione argue. Sexual tension, I assume.'

Ron laughed merrily. 'I have no idea, mate! But you're right; I am insanely pissed off. If I ever find out who hurt Hermione, they will be very sorry indeed. I'll do worse to him...or her than what he...or she, or it, did to her!'

Harry scratched his head. 'That's getting a little confusing.'

'I know,' Ron confessed. 'I think I need to sleep.'

'Good plan,' Harry concurred. 'To bed?'

'To bed,' Ron agreed.

They hesitated at the foot of the stairs.

'Now, now, Ron, you're with Hermione!' Harry gasped in a tone of mock horror. 'You can't go inviting me to your bed in the dead of night!'

'If I remember it right, you were the one doing the bloody inviting!' Ron retorted.

Both boys glared at each other intensely and promptly dissolved into fits of laughter.

'Being in love suits you,' Harry chuckled.

'Thanks,' Ron said with a grin. 'It doesn't look too badly on you, either.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco lurked in the shadows of his dormitory, nursing his wounds like a wolf licking blood from its lesions. He had no idea how his hand was burned. He had no notion of what had injured his hand to the point where it looked as if he had stigmata, something Lucius would undoubtedly frown upon. And he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was weeping like a child into his blankets.

His father had punished him more than enough in the past for pain to be almost tolerable for him. He could withstand almost anything, and he didn't scream as loudly as most while under the Cruciatus Curse. And yet, tonight it felt like he would soon die.

'It's not my hand,' he muttered between sobs. 'My hand doesn't hurt. It's something else! But what?'

Having never loved anything or anyone more than himself, Draco could not even hope to comprehend the desperation that unrequited love can bring. Nights of torment, seeing the object of one's affections every time the eyes are closed, can drive even the healthiest person to dementia. When it was a Malfoy, someone who had never known true love apart from the love of power and position, it spelt tragedy.

This was not your basic, garden variety unrequited love.

This was Androphonus, a love potion so potent that even the most evil witches and wizards hesitated to use it. Cho Chang, the Head Girl of Hogwarts, had unwittingly used it while under the influence of Pan's Ether, making it so much worse. Ignorance had spawned this disastrous love that would almost certainly destroy Draco Malfoy.

He leaped with alarm as a frog croaked nearby, its black eyes staring ghoulishly at him from Crabbe's bed. He had forgotten that Vincent had a pet frog this year, but it only served to disturb him more. He remembered his father telling him once that frogs were more to be feared than ravens, black cats and thestrals. He had forgotten why.

He cradled his injured hand against his ribcage and gave a soft moan of pain.

'The pain is in here?' he said, wonderingly. 'But how? And why?'

An owl pecked at the window, disturbing his musings. He struggled with the catch with his good hand and stood back to allow the owl to enter. It dumped an envelope addressed to him from its beak and hooted, taking off as Draco tore it open with his teeth.

It was a letter from Cho. He gasped in delight, tears coursing afresh down his face as he pressed the parchment to his heart and face, desperate to hold something of hers close to him. He inhaled the scent of the paper and whimpered his grief when he could not detect her scent.

His tears blurred the ink as he read:

Draco,

I know you're hurt. It was Granger's doing, and she also tried her best to hurt me. I made sure she did not remember what she saw tonight, so we are safe from her for now.

Remember, I need your help to complete the potion. If we fail, we can never revenge ourselves on Potter. If we succeed, I will love you forever and a day.

I will meet you tomorrow night by the statue of Lachlan the Lanky at midnight.

Don't be late.

Cho.

Draco reread the note, memorising every line, every word. He then kissed her signature and vanished it with a word, 'Evanesco.'

Curling up into his bed, he felt a little less empty than he had done. She had promised she would love him forever if he helped her finally revenge herself on Harry Potter. He would do whatever she asked him to do, no matter what it took.

He finally understood. It hurt because he was without her. It hurt because he should be with her every moment of every day, without end, and here he was without her!

'Love,' he said, as if testing the word like an alien taste on his lips. It felt strange to say it aloud, as though he was simultaneously weakening and strengthening the sway it held over him.

'Love!' he moaned, pressing his hands to his temples.

'Do shut up, Malfoy,' someone groaned sleepily.

Draco leaped to his feet and ran to the common room. If he couldn't be with her now, he wanted to be alone.

'Solitude,' he whispered. 'Solitude. Without her, without her! But I must help her, but how? Destroy Potter!' His speech grew increasingly incoherent as he rambled on. 'But how? Talk to her tomorrow...must sleep now.'

He drew a potion from his robes and noted the irony. Hadn't he had enough potions recently?

He shrugged and drank its contents. He barely had time to restopper the phial before sleep claimed him and paraded her flag across his face, closing his eyes. He passed out on the sofa and remained there until morning.