Sympathy for the Slytherin

Sympathy for the Slytherin

Chapter 4: Free Fall

Hermione lay on her bed, sniffling quietly. She wiped away another tear and gazed out the window at the autumn night. As Ron had succinctly put it, no, McGonagall had not been at all happy. Interestingly though, hermain complaint was not Draco’s behavior although she said he would be punished. She was mostly upset that Hermione and the others had not found a professorimmediately when he’d returned. Her anger had increased tenfold, when Hermioneadmitted that he’d shown up having been hexed by some unknown party. Atthat point, McGonagall had taken away Hermione’s prefect badge for a week,suspended Ron and Harry from quidditch and assigned them to detention withHagrid in two days. Hermione was mortified. Her only comfort was that atleast the detention was with Hagrid. Meanwhile, a bleary eyed and incoherent Draco was revived and put to bed after McGonagall assigned Ron and Harry togetting him up for breakfast in the morning.

Stupid, stupid, stupid... she thought.

Yet, if she lived it all over again, she realized, she probably would’ve done the same thing. She’d been thinking more about Draco getting in trouble then about his safety. This worried Hermione. What did McGonagall know thatshe didn’t about Draco’s position? Was she afraid of him being hurt by someoneelse or only by his own self-destructiveness? Either option seemed as likelyafter the activities of last night.

She reviewed the facts once again. Draco had gone through something which had scarred his hand and which he refused to talk about. Dumbledore knew what he’d gone through and in some subtle way, appeared to be waiting for Hermione, Ron and Harry to figure it out. She didn’t put anything past Dumbledore. She figured he already knew about Ron’s sudden telepathy, her dreams and Harry’s itching. She’d decided by now that if all of this wasn’t related, it was somehow going to be. Another fact that Hermione couldn’t ignore was that whatever Draco wasn’t talking about, he also didn’t seem tohave anyone to not talk about it with. Then and there, Hermione decided she had no recourse but to be someone he could count on.

She was, after all, his tutor.

She discounted everything he’d said when he was drunk. He was confused, she knew. He wasn’t really like that anymore, if he’d ever been. It would be hard. He put up a tough defense. But Hermione was tough too. When she put her mind to something, she did not easily let go. And if nothing else, she would just nag him to death.

Hermione had a mission. And the mission was a Malfoy.

Hermione drifted off to sleep, wondering exactly how drunk Draco had been, when he’d thought of her “beautiful eyes.”

**********************************************************

Back in their dorm room, once he’d waited for everyone to fall asleep,Ron tiptoed over to Harry’s bed and shook him gently. Harry had been quickly revived once McGonagall appeared so that he would be awake for the dressing down the three of them received. But Ron hadn’t gotten a chance to talk tohim before now.

“Harry!” he hissed. “I have to talk to you!”

Harry woke with a start and glared at his friend.

“Ron! Geez, quidditch can wait! I just got to where I could ignore the itching-”

“It’s not about quidditch, genius,” Ron whispered. “Before you got back, I read Draco’s mind-”

“Now that’s a frightening prospect,” he said, suddenly looking anxious. “Oh, Merlin! What is it? Is it Voldemort? Is he involved? What?!”

“Sssh!” Ron hushed his friend and sat on the bed. “That’s just it...it’s...”

It was such an alarming bit of news that Ron hardly knew how to tell it.

“Spill it, Ron! If it’s important.”

“It is!”

“Then what is it? Just tell-”

“Malfoy killed his father.”

Ron watched the shock register on Harry’s face. He looked completely blank as he let the astounding information sink in.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, finding it hard to keep his voice quiet.

“It was the loudest thought in his mind!”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, feeling around for his glasses on the nightstand, as if they would help him understand.

Ron sighed. He’d learned a lot in the scant few days of having this powerful new gift.

“Well, it’s like... I can tune into bits and pieces of thoughts. Somebits are louder then others and I think it depends on how important theyare or how they feel about it. If I hear someone think that they need tobrush their teeth, for example, it comes out softly. But if they’re thinkingsomething like ‘I’ve killed my father’ it’s much louder. Draco’s voice wasbloody thundering when he thought that.”

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“This is the weirdest bloody year...”

“I don’t know exactly how it happened,” Ron said. “I couldn’t get anydetails. But it... well, I guess it makes sense. We know Luciusdied on Grier’s Mountain that night and we know Draco was there. What otherexplanation is there except that...”

Harry sighed, “He was trying to stop it. And he killed his father. I’ve got to find out what happened.”

“You’re not likely get anything out of him, “ Ron pointed out. “He won’t talk to anyone, least of all us.”

“Does Hermione know?”

“No,” Ron said, wincing. “It didn’t seem right to tell her. Besides,Malfoy was having some... unexpected thoughts about her and I didn’t thinkhe’d want her to know yet.”

Harry put up his hands in an almost defensive posture and squinted, partly from tiredness.

“Let me get this straight. Draco Malfoy went through some sort of... reforming and killed his own father at a death eater’s ritual. And now he, Draco Malfoy, has a crush on Hermione? And you, Ronald Weasley, don’t want to tell Hermione his secret out of consideration for Malfoy?”

The redhead rubbed his eyes and smiled sleepily.

“No one said adolescence was simple, Harry.”

****************************************************************

The dream she had that night cheered Hermione considerably. She dreamt of Harry and Draco. They were flying, that is, flying without brooms. They were barreling through the air at a great height, an expression of such joy on their faces such as Hermione had never seen, even after particularly triumphant quidditch matches. They were laughing and grinning, arms splayed out, high in the sky over Hogwarts until at last they came to a landing on the grass and lay down to rest next to Ron, Ginny and Hermione near a tree. The fiveof them were joking and talking, Draco’s head resting on Hermione’s stomachand Ginny sitting between Harry’s legs. Next to them sat Ron who, curiously,had a small and beautiful black bird with white tail feathers perched onhis shoulder. It was a dream that gave Hermione a satisfying sense of completeness. As if that it were the way things were supposed to be.

************************************************************

When he woke up the next morning, Draco’s only comfort was the perfectdescription he had in mind for how he felt.

Like one hundred screeching mandrakes... ALL SCREECHING IN MY HEAD.

Gritting his teeth, Draco tentatively opened one eye to the dimness of his dorm room only to shut it again immediately. He could hear the second years making their way out to breakfast and it sounded to him like a herd of wild manticores on the loose.

Forget it. I’ll skip again.

Why, he wondered, didn’t these ingenious drink concocting wizards maketheir alcoholic beverages hangover proof? He supposed it was a purposefulmeasure to prevent alcoholism among wizards or some such nonsense. He buriedhis head under his pillow and moaned quietly. Seconds later he was interrupted by the last two people on earth he wished to see.

“Malfoy?”

It was Harry who said his name first while attempting to relieve the incessant itching in his scar.

Draco didn’t move.

“Malfoy, c’mon-”

Draco unburied himself but kept his eyes shut.

“If you two bottom feeding gits don’t get out of my face as of five minutes ago-”

“If you don’t show up to breakfast, McGonagall’s owling your mother, “Ron interrupted.

“Stuff my mother.”

Ron mouthed something to Harry and then sighed heavily, “Have it your own way then. Let’s go, Harry.”

They started to walk away when Ron said loudly, “Hate to worry Hermione like this, especially considering how scared she was yesterday.”

Draco, his eyes still shut, abruptly stopped scratching his palm.

“Yeah, “ Harry agreed, “I’d never seen her in such a state. She was quite upset when she didn’t know where you were, Malfoy.”

“Well, she is his tutor,” Ron said casually.

Draco opened his eyes and resisted the overwhelming urge to close themagain.

“And just what would I care what that bitchy mudblood thinks of me?”

Harry started and Ron’s jaw twitched but he shook his head at his friend.

“Oh, nothing at all, I expect. C’mon, Harry.”

The two left but not before Harry noticed on Draco’s desk what looked like a brand new pensieve, next to which lay an envelope with Draco’s name on it.

Curious, Harry thought, curiouser and curiouser.

*************************************************

Ron and Harry exited Draco’s room and made their way to breakfast.

Harry couldn’t help but grin at their little manipulation.

“But how do you know it worked?”

Ron shot him a lopsided smile and explained, “I heard him thinking it over. I could hear him the whole time. Last night I thought perhaps it was just the Red Wonder but she’s very much in his mind. Although mostly he was trying to remember what happened to him last night. He’ll be at breakfast.”

“Did he mean it at all when he called her a... you know?” Harry asked, concerned.

Ron shook his head.

“It’s all an act. I don’t think he even believes that rot anymore. Besides, Hermione told me he’s become fond of the muggle world.”

Harry chuckled, “Draco Malfoy a Hermione-crushing, muggle-loving runaway.”

“Don’t worry, “ Ron said. “When this is all over, he’ll probably be the same slimy git he always was.”

*****************************************************

When Harry and Ron had left, Draco slowly rolled out bed, feeling as if lead weights were in his socks. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room for the first time that morning to see that his mirror and pain potion had been repaired. Though at the moment, his hand wasn’t sore but quite itchy. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hermione really had been worried about him. He couldn’t remember much about the previous night but he did recall having some unusual thoughts about his new tutor. Not that this was exactly new. It had been coming on for a couple of days. He tried to distance himselffrom the notion. He was, at least physically, a normal teenage boy. Andany normal teenage boy would not be able to but have tender thoughts workingin such close vicinity to such a beautiful girl who also happened to be highlyintelligent as well as kind. It was something he would never have consideredbefore this year. Not ever. But then again, he’d never bothered to spendmore than five minutes of time alone with Hermione before. Not willinglyanyway.

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not my fault she has such pretty eyes or soft pink lips or... Damn.

Draco tried to shake himself out of such thoughts and was about to drag himself to the showers when he saw the pensieve sitting innocently on his desk. Next to the magical basin sat an envelope with his name on it. He picked up the envelope to see the seal of Hogwarts on it and he opened it hesitantly.

Draco,
Pensieves are quite useful for sorting out difficult memories. Perhaps this will assist you in sorting out yours.
-Albus Dumbledore

Draco was flummoxed.

So basically, he thought, I break about forty different school rules... and the headmaster gives me a present?

Next to the pensieve was a fresh bottle of pepper-up potion, whichDraco knew to be an aide in getting through particularly nasty hangovers. Draco unstuck the cork and took a large dose, chasing it with a large swallowof pain potion.

****************************************************************

Harry and Ron found Hermione in surprisingly bright spirits at the breakfast table.
She was laughing with Ginny about something and nibbling on bacon.

“You’re certainly in a good mood,” Harry said, taking his seat. “Considering...”

“I know,” Hermione said, nodding. “I was just telling Ginny about it. I can’t believe Draco didn’t get expelled but I suppose they’re making some sort of exception for him.”

“Tell them about your dream, Hermione!” Ginny urged.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden at the memory but decided she’d skip that portion of the dream.

“What was it this time?” Ron asked.

“I dreamt Harry and Draco were flying without brooms,” Hermione said, grinning. “Although I suppose hurling through the sky is a better way to put it. Theyflew over the quidditch field. And you and Ginny were there. We were watching. And Ron, you had a black bird on your shoulder.”

“A black bird?” Harry asked. “Wonder what that means.”

Hermione shrugged and couldn’t help but imagine over again the part ofthe dream she’d left out. The part where she sat, leaning against a treewith Draco lying next to her, his head in her lap. The dream so vivid thatshe could almost now feel her fingers interlaced through his. The memoryof the way he’d smiled at her a smile she’d never seen on his face before. And they way it felt so normal and not strange at all.

Hermione looked up to see Ron a with mischievous expression on his face.

Good Lord, I’ve got to watch my brain around him!

She glanced over at Harry and Ginny to see them engulfed in each other.

Ron, if you can hear this, STOP EAVESDROPPING!

Ron leaned over and smirked.

“Just what is it about that smile you find so charming?”

“Ron!” Hermione yelped, turning a shade of fuchsia.

Ron laughed, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. But I think you’re ridiculous.”

“I can’t help what I dream, ya know, ”Hermione said haughtily.

“Well, I can’t help but hear your thoughts,” Ron shot back.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Here comes your fire breathing dragon now,” Ron said, nodding at the door of the great hall.

Hermione looked to see Draco moseying into breakfast with his old characteristic swagger. He didn’t look in their direction and sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table by himself. Hermione frowned and looked at Ron expectantly.

“I don’t know,” Ron said, looking shifty. “I think he’s ... grouchy.”

Hermione glared at Ron, knowing very well he was keeping information from her. Ron had suddenly started being reasonable about Malfoy and the only logical conclusion was that he knew something she didn’t.

Hermione got up from her seat, walked purposefully over to Draco and sat across from him.

“What do you want, mudblood?” Draco snapped.

Hermione blinked and ate a bite of eggs off the plate that had appeared in front of her.

“I want to eat breakfast. If it’s okay with you, that is.”

He kept his eyes on his plate and poked at his toast.

“Why don’t you eat with Potter and the Weasettes over there?”

Hermione noticed that he hadn’t actually said it wasn’t okay for her to eat with him. She also noticed that his insults were rather weak andsurmised that his heart wasn’t really in it.

“Because I want to eat over here,” she said firmly. “And it’s a free table and I can eat where I please.”

Draco leaned closer and stared straight into Hermione’s eyes.

“Look, I know you think because you’re a prefect you have to go reforming criminals or saving homeless orphans or whatever you like to call it. But get over it. I don’t need some dog faced mudblood under the mistaken impression that she’s doing me some kind of favor. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. You make me ill.”

Draco tasted sugar in his mouth, assured that she would do what he told her and continued, “So leave me alone and go crawl back under whatever rock you came from, little girl.”

Hermione swallowed some pumpkin juice and met his glare with an air ofbottomless determination.

“Shut up and eat your eggs, ferret face. I’m not going anywhere.”

********************************************************

At lunch, Harry could be seen walking hand in hand with Ginny down a path to Sprout’s greenhouses. Potions and herbology were Ginny’s new passions. She was highly adept at configuring new uses for commonly used as well as little known plants and would soon be advancing to Double Potions with the sixth years as well as Advanced Herbology. Sprout was ecstatic over Ginny’s interest and even Snape had to begrudgingly admit that the Gryffindor was greatly talented for her age.

“I can’t believe Malfoy had goat’s horns on his head! And you didn’t call me?” Ginny yipped in mock aggravation.

“Green hair too, “ Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “We were a bit preoccupied with trying to stop him from cursing us into oblivion. A sober Malfoy with a wand is bad enough...”

Ginny pushed open the door to the greenhouse and breathed in the welcoming scent of ripening golt corns.

“And you think he has something to do with your itch?” she asked, leading him to several trays of dittany.

“I started to notice that it itches most when I’m around him,” Harry admitted. “And yesterday when he was in Hogsmeade, I was fine.”

Ginny picked several dittany buds out of the trays and dropped them ona mortaring stone.

“Strange. You don’t think it means he’s dangerous, do you?”

“No. It doesn’t feel dangerous. More like... I have an itch to do something and I don’t know what. It’ s like if you woke up one morning without your nose and never remembered having a nose... But you still felt like something was missing and you still had the urge to smell.”

Ginny grinned and said, “Smell this.” She handed him several small leaves of something green.

Harry inhaled and his eyes lit up.

“Peppermint. I didn’t know Sprout grew muggle plants in here.”

“Actually, it was something I thought of this summer,” Ginny said, blushing. “I think they might come in useful. I wrote to her asking if I could bring some buds and things over to experiment with and she loved the idea. The peppermint is just for fragrance right now. Since I’m using bubotubors for this paste.”

Ginny turned to face the lab table and Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he said softly.

Ginny couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at his interest in her interests and gladly explained, “Well, as you know, dittany is a powerful paralyzing agent in potions. But if I mash up just a tiny little bit...” Ginny did so with her pestle, picked up the bubotubor laying nearby and squeezedsome disgusting yellow pus into the mashed up buds. “And add some bubotubordrops to take down the swelling and irritation from your scratching it nearlyraw...”

She added the peppermint and ground the ingredients together to a finepaste.

“And throw in some mint to take away the terrible petrol smell...” she said, scooping a bit of the stuff with her finger. She turned carefully to face Harry and begin to rub it into his forehead.

“It should be a decent numbing solution that will relieve the itchingand has a pleasing scent,” she said. “Peppermint also enhances the effect. Muggles use it that way all the time.”

She finished rubbing the ointment into his skin and wiped her hands ona rag nearby.

Harry just gazed at her happily.

“You’re beautiful when you’re brilliant,” he said.

Ginny beamed and her cheeks turned pink which set off her hair as wellas Harry.

“Which must mean you’re perpetually beautiful,” he finished.

Ginny giggled, “My fingers are numb now.”

He smiled slyly and took her hands in his.

“Let’s hope your lips are not.”

Harry leaned in and kissed her gently, tasting a hint of raspberry lipgloss. Her lips seemed to tremble as much as the first time he’d kissedher and the thought he caused it had his blood rushing. He tangled his fingersin her hair and deepened the kiss, instantly forgetting about scars and dark lords and former Slytherins.

********************************************************

Hermione sat in Potions, drumming her fingers absentmindedly on the table. To her right sat Harry, who seemed to have found a cure for his itching andto her left, Draco who looked mutely enraged. Snape was barking out ingredientsand their various uses as they took notes. She looked over to see Dracowith his arms crossed, refusing to right down the instructions for theirnext assignment. What Hermione recognized was an attempted return to the“old Draco” with notable absence of his characteristic smirking arrogance. This Draco wasn’t just mean, he was very angry. He’d been much the same all day. Though in their other classes he’d managed to find seats far from her, this time she’d cornered him.

She whispered, “Draco-”

“Sod off.”

“But-”

“Sod. Off.”

Hermione grit her teeth and scribbled a note on a torn piece of parchment which she clandestinely slipped to Harry who slipped it to Ron. Ron didn’t bother to read the note, already knowing what it said.

Ron, what’s he thinking??

Instead he scribbled something on the back and slipped it back to Hermione. Hermione hunched over and unfolded the note.

He’s pissed. (But not that kind of pissed.) -RW

Hermione rolled her eyes at the double meaning and shot a glare atRon, thinking loudly.

Well I could’ve figured that out!

Ron thought for a moment, scribbled another note and slipped it toHermione.

It’s not personal. -RW

Truthfully, he could hear much more then that but he wasn’t about to reveal it to Hermione in the middle of Potions. All morning he’d heard nothing but the thoughts of Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco, who was by farthe loudest. It seemed whatever Hermione had inspired in the mode of “tuningin” had very much tuned him in to the minds of those he was closest to andhe couldn’t seem to tune out. He knew that Hermione in between focusing onthe subject matter of each class, was completely preoccupied with Draco. Harry thought about nothing but Ginny and the possibility of Voldemort’s returnand Ron now also knew his theory about the connection between Draco and hisscar’s itch though Harry had never mentioned it to him aloud. And Ginnythought constantly about plants and Harry, which made Ron queasy. Meanwhile,Draco’s mind seemed to keep itself hypnotized by an unending incoherent streamof consciousness which included bits and pieces of horrifying memories, broodingnotions of death and destiny and muggle song lyrics. Draco was also attemptingto squelch thoughts about Hermione which put Ron in a bitter sweetly wistfulmood as he recalled the crush he used to have on her. And Ron had no ideawhat his ramblings about sugar in his mouth were all about. But as Dracowas the most emotionally intense of the group, his thoughts were the mostdistracting. Ron shut his eyes and all he heard was Draco...

No colors anywhere, I want them to turn black... should’ve stayed... should’ve stayed away. Back in Cairo... no, or I shouldn’t have bothered killing him. Crimson and clover... over and over... no I don’t hardly know her... but the dark Lord’s gonna get that stone back anyway it’s all destiny and mine is sealed so what does she want with me? Staring at me all expectant? Over and over... Dammit, would she stop staring at me with those eyes. He’llcome again. He’ll come again, I might as well have let him live... I coulddo it. I could do it right now, hex them all. Crucio those smug idiots. Crucio Snape for that matter...

“Mr. Weasley! I’ll thank you to stay awake in my class.”

Ron’s eyes shot open to see a glaring Snape in front of him.

“That is, if it’s not too much trouble?” Snape snapped. “Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

Draco snickered.

Poooor Weasley...

Ron grit his teeth.

“You will all complete a table of the fourteen potent minerals by Friday, including a page for each mineral on its uses, effects and etceteras. Not that I expect any of you to remember what you have written by the end of term.”

Draco was cackling.

Snape looked up sharply, seeming not to know how to play it.

“Yes, Mr.Malfoy? Do we have a problem?”

Draco was tipped on the back two legs of his chair, his arms crossed. He rolled his eyes and said tiredly, “I dunno, Severus, do we?”

Hermione gaped, looking back and forth between Draco, who looked as ifhe didn’t give a damn about a damn and Snape, who normally would have beenlivid and now looked mostly irritated.

Snape gave Draco his best glower.

“Mr.Malfoy, I realize you have had some... difficulty so far this term. However, you will not disrupt this class. You will see McGonagall after this session. And I expect a flawless paper out of you on Friday.”

Hermione could hardly believe it. Snape hadn’t even taken points fromGryffindor.

Draco could taste the sweetness now and felt the dangerous combinationof secreted rage and a total lack of concern for future consequences. Thesweetness was stronger then ever before, like a sugar cube just melted onhis tongue. So Draco glared Snape in the eye and leaned forward in his chair.

“I’d rather not actually,” he said as obstinately as he’d ever said anything in his life. The class’s jaws dropped collectively to the floor. Snape dida sort of double take and scowled.

Hermione elbowed Draco.

“Draco, cut it out!” she hissed.

“You will not challenge me on this, Mr.Malfoy,” Snape said, examining Draco like a puzzle.

Draco only stared and just as firmly retorted, “I think I will. You see, I don’t want to do the paper or see McGonagall, and you won’t have me do so.”

Hermione was actually frightened.

“Draco, shut up!” she whispered urgently.

Snape seemed to falter for a moment.

“If...”

The class was on the edge of its seat but Snape collected himself and bellowed, “Mr.Malfoy, if you disrupt this class one more time-”

“Like this, you mean?!”

Snape set his jaw and rushed up to Draco and Hermione’s seats where hetook Draco firmly by his arm and yanked him from his chair.

“Mr.Malfoy, “ he growled, “you are coming with me to Dumbledore’s office. Class, you will remain absolutely silent until I return. Continue copying down the attributes of potents.”

Snape sounded more calmly fierce then any of them had ever heard him.

Draco followed him out of the classroom but yanked his arm out of Snape’s grasp.

“Lay off, ya daft codger. I can walk myself.”

Snape ignored him but could be heard grumbling, “I told him itwas too soon. I told him it would never work. But will he listen?”

Hermione, Ron and Harry blinked helplessly at each other.

Ron smiled slightly and said, “Well, that was entertaining.”

“I can’t believe Snape didn’t explode,” Harry said.

“Ron, what was he thinking about when he said all that?” Hermione said, prodding her friend with the end of the feather end of her quill.

“I don’t know!” Ron said. “His mind moves too fast and it’s all fragmented. I can’t make much sense of it.”

Hermione only felt a renewed sense of that desire to solve the mysteryof Draco. To get past the Wall of the Drawl.

“Someone’s got to get the bottom of it,” she said softly. “And it might as well be me.”

Harry and Ron gave her withering looks.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

“I am his tutor.”

***********************************************************

“I’m just saying, the nearer I am to him, the itchier it is.”

It was nearly ten that night, and the four friends were sitting aroundthe fire in the common room discussing, of course, Draco Malfoy.

“But it’s not like you-know-who, he’s not evil,” Hermione argued, getting a bit defensive on Draco’s behalf.

“I know he’s not evil!” Harry snapped, frustrated. “I didn’t said he was evil.”

“Why else would your scar itch?” she asked. “And how do you know it’s because of Draco?”

“I don’t know, “ he said. “It’s just a hunch. But it’s awfully coincidental.”

“Maybe your scar is like... a measure of danger,” Ron theorized. “A sixth sense.”

“Like a barometer?” Hermione asked.

Ron just looked confused.

“You didn’t hear anything useful in his head?” Ginny asked her brother. “Did you, Ron?”

Ron gazed at the ceiling and said, “He was mostly cursing people and thinking about his father...”

At that Ron and Harry exchanged a meaningful look.

“He was thinking about a stone at one point.”

“A stone?” Harry asked. “What stone?”

“I don’t know. Something about ‘the dark lord’s going to get the stone back anyway’.”

“He couldn’t mean the sorcerer’s stone,” Harry said, perplexed. “Everyone knows that was destroyed. Was there anything reported about a stone at Grier’s Mountain?”

“Not that I remember,” Hermione said. “But if it’s important enough, the ministry might be keeping it a secret.”

They heard a slam and their heads turned to see Draco storming into the common room, headed straight towards his dorm.

“Draco!” Hermione hollered, standing up quickly.

Draco just snarled, “Not tonight, muddy. I have a headache.”

With that he slammed into his bed room, leaving the four watching blankly.

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“No. Not evil in the least.”

********************************************************

Hermione’s dream came out of darkness and suddenly there he was. Draco’s face, sweaty and full of fear, and in his eyes the recognition of pure horror. She watched him, feeling his fright and urgency. He was holding something but she couldn’t see the whole picture. He had dirt and blood on his white dress shirt. She saw tears, sticky on his dirty cheeks. He was shaking.

“No!” he cried.

And now he was whispering desperately, No... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...it can’t end be like this... No!”

His chin shook and she heard a whisper that was not his.

“Stop them, Draco.”

And then his eyes went very wide and Hermione could feel his heart beating.

“NOOO!”

He let go of whatever he was holding and then he was running. Hermione’s dream followed him out of a cold dark room and down long gray stony corridors. He ran up stairs and down the halls of what Hermione could only guess was Malfoy Manor. Out the door and into the black night, he ran wildly like ananimal. Hermione tossed and turned in her dream, feeling like she was runningbeside him. Down the barren roads near Malfoy Manor and beyond through forestsas purple lightning struck overhead. And soon he was running through thegates of Hogwarts and over the stretches of lawn. She heard his gasping pantingand felt his desperation as he burst through the front doors of Hogwarts andshe followed him down the halls and up more stairs, further and further untilshe realized he was taking the steep spiraling stairs to Astronomy Tower. She wanted to stop him. She knew as deeply as she knew how to breathe thatthis was wrong. But she had no voice. Finally he reached the highest pointin Hogwarts and Hermione could only watch as he ran up and stood in the sillof it’s largest glassless window. The tails of his shirt flapped in theharsh gusty wind of the angry night and Draco’s silent tears flowed downhis face as he looked down into the depths of the abyss below Hogwarts. Hermione’s heart pulsed dangerously in her chest and she felt her soul screaming but she could only watch as Draco stepped out of the window and fell into the darkness beneath a final purple lightening bolt.

“DRACO!”

Hermione woke with his name on her lips, her blood racing. It had felt so real. More real then any normal dream. She pushed her covers off herself and got out of bed, brushing her hair now damp from sweat, behind her ear with a shaking hand. She glanced at her clock and saw that it was nearly three in the morning. But she was much too wound up to sleep now and the sense that Draco was in some kind of mortal danger was too acute to disbelieve. She decided to sneak into his dorm just to check on him and didn’t bother to put a robe on over her pajamas. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and was once again thankful that as prefect, she had a roomof her own. She opened her door quietly and was about to tip toe up thestairs to the boy’s dorms when she heard a voice behind her.

“Hermione!”

She turned to see Harry in a chair by the fire, looking at her questioningly. Hermione felt briefly embarrassed to be caught in such a position but shrugged the feeling off and padded down the stairs in her bare feet to meet Harry.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked.

Hermione couldn’t help but blush and explained herself, “I had a nightmare. It was about Draco. I was going to check on him actually. Have you been up long?”

Harry looked a little pale at her explanation.

“Just a couple of minutes. It’s my scar. Ginny’s numbing solution wore off. It’s worse then ever. It’s my whole head. I can’t sleep.”

Hermione frowned and brushed Harry’s hair back off his forehead. She gasped in surprise, “Harry, it’s glowing!”

Harry looked sick. “Glowing?!”

“It’s glowing purple!”

Indeed, Harry’s scar was lit much like a neon sign. Hermione felt theworld spin around her.

“A purple lightning bolt...” she breathed. “Draco’s in trouble!”

She grabbed Harry’s hand and started to run to the door.

“How do you know?!” he demanded, resisting her pull.

“I just know!” she cried. “We’ve got to go to the tower!”

“Let me get the cloak! We’ll get caught!”

She pulled him through the Pink Lady, pleading in her eyes.

“There’s no time! We’ve got risk it! HURRY!”

Harry decided to trust Hermione’s prophetic dreams and the two raced down the corridors, passing a bewildered Nearly Headless Nick on the way. Harry couldn’t help but wish he was wearing something a bit more dignified than his red t-shirt and sweatpants as he ran alongside Hermione and hoped against hope that she was right to take the risk, praying that Filch was in some otherwing of the castle. He really didn’t want to add another detention to hislist. They had yet to fulfill their hours of detention due with Hagrid.

It was a familiar sensation, this dire fear for a friend’s well-being,indeed for a friend’s life. But usually it was Harry or Ron or even Ginnyin trouble. It was all too strange yet Hermione was finding herself runningwith every bit of anxious energy in her body towards Astronomy Tower. Andup the stone stairs, four at a time to the top of the tower.

“HURRY!” she shrieked.

Harry caught up with Hermione and burst into the top room of the tower. Hermione stopped short, Harry slamming into her.

Draco stood in the sill of the largest window in the tower, his hair blowing in the wind and his white t-shirt over his black trousers billowing up. Hewas just standing there silently, inches away from oblivion. As soon asshe saw him, her heart caught in her throat and she felt an jolting sense of deja vu. Hermione ran forward to the window, grasped him around the waist and fell backward.

“Hermione!” Harry yipped in surprise.

The two tumbled to the floor, Draco falling on top of her. Hermione ignored the stone scraping the backs of her arms only awash in gratefulness that shewas not too late. Draco rolled off of her and stood up, gaping at Hermione on the floor and Harry in the doorway.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he demanded.

“You were going to jump!” Hermione shouted, pointing at him accusingly.

Draco Malfoy wasn’t often speechless but there were so many odd thingsabout this particular moment in time that he wasn’t quite sure where to begin. He did know that he was not eager to discuss what he was doing in the tower, or rather, what he considered doing.

“How did you know I was up here?!”

Hermione looked away and flinched as if embarrassed.

“I dreamt it.” she said quietly. “I have dreams about you.”

Draco, upon whom was heaped not only the normal measure of sixteen year-old confusion but quite a few extra doses as well, could not stop his pulse from inexplicably quickening at the thought that Hermione was dreaming about him even following a near attempt at suicide. Meanwhile in the corner, Harry seemed preoccupied with his forehead. He had also just noticed Malfoy’s Firebolt,lying on the floor across the room.

That’s odd. He must’ve flown up here.

“What do you mean you dream about me?! What sort of dreams?!”

Hermione stood up and dusted herself off.

“I dreamt you were... Well, you came up here and you jumped out the window. And here you are!”

He couldn’t get his head around her reply. He couldn’t even decide whether or not he was glad she had stopped him. It was a little too bizarre, so hethrew it to the back of his mind.

“Yes, here I am! Not that it’s any business of yours, mudblood. I told you to leave me alone! This doesn’t concern you or your heroic little friends!”

She stalked towards him and stood between him and the window, putting her hands on each end of the sill behind her.

“Yes, it does concern me. You were going to jump. I saw it happen. And I’m not going to let you. You’ll have to go through me first.”

“Don’t tempt me, Granger,” He said in a dangerous low voice.

Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to ignore his forehead that felt as if it were vibrating. He’d dealt with monsters before. Dark lords. Giant snakes. Dementors. He had no clue as to how to deal with asuicidal Malfoy. He stepped forward, a tension in his stomach. Draco lookedjust desperate enough to take Hermione up on her offer.

“Careful, Hermione,” he said uselessly.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Draco,” she said.

They were standing eye to eye. Hermione looked determined as ever, but Draco could hear the wavering in his voice.

“But-”

“You don’t know ANYTHING!” he shouted.

“Draco, it doesn’t have to be this way!”

She felt helpless and she didn’t know what to say in this situation.

She grasped for words and stuttered, “Just... just...”

“WHAT, MUDBLOOD?!” Draco screamed.

“JUST TURN FROM IT!”

Hermione’s cry seemed to echo, at least to Draco. He let out a breath, his mask of rage unchanging. Behind them, Harry watched and felt awkward, suddenly wishing there was some dangerous but necessary wand duel he could partake in that would return the three of them to some semblance of normalcy. Draco finally dropped his gaze and walked across the room, picking up his Firebolt. He held the broom in his left hand and stared at the scar on his right. He walked over to another window in the tower and Hermione felt sick.

“Draco...” she whispered.

Draco was giving them a funny look and leaning, almost sitting on the edge of the sill. Hermione and Harry slowly came forward, hoping they’d be able to stop him if he took the leap. Draco looked out on the windy night, wistful. He held his broom out in front of him.

“According to gravity... If I drop this broom and drop myself at the same time, we should fall at the same speed.”

Hermione could hardly comprehend what he was saying. All she could think of was the horrifying combination of Draco and the abyss below him.

“Draco...”

She looked at Harry and was somewhat shocked to see an expression of wide eyed anticipation on his face. It happened very fast. She turned back and took another step only to see Draco drop his broom and then himself, nonchalantly launching from the window sill and over the cliffs beneath. Hermione screamed bloody murder and scrambled along with Harry to the window.

He was tumbling through the air and Hermione was screaming hysterically, “NO! NOOO!! DRACO!”

Harry was grasping her arm tightly and shouting, seemed breathless, “’MIONE!”

She screamed, a hand over her mouth and tears suddenly on her face. Yet even as she screamed, she watched as Draco, falling swiftly through the air toward the rocks below somehow managed to grab his broom barreling end over end beside him, mount it, gain control and fly upwards. He soared high above them, turned in circle and then flew down to the other end of the castle, eventually disappearing through a window into Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione was left with her heart beating dangerously fast, panting andcrying.

“Oh God... Oh God...”

Harry, on the other hand, was jubilant.

“Merlin! That was bloody amazing!”

Hermione flapped her hands and gawked at him.

“Amazing?! Amazing?! He could’ve been killed! He obviously has a death wish!”

Harry rolled his eyes but was still grinning.

“Well, he’d have to to try that, wouldn’t he? It’s called free falling! I’ve heard about it, of course. But I’ve never seen anyone do it!”

Harry was heading back to the stairs babbling as Hermione stood staring at him.

“He’s got to teach me how! That was bloody brilliant! Wait’ll I tellRon!”

What Hermione didn’t know was that Harry had experienced something of a high when Draco had jumped. The adrenaline had already been pumping in the tension of the moment but when the blonde boy had let go of the ledge, Harry had felt the inexplicable urge to follow him and a heady rush ten times that of anything he’d felt the first time he caught a snitch. The rushebbed a bit as he talked but he still considered with interest, that he wasn’tcertain he was in his right mind.

Hermione blinked. He was mad. They were all mad. She was clearly the only sane person left at Hogwarts.

“Amazing?” she mumbled. “I can’t even feel my feet.”

Harry stopped suddenly and turned back, his head quirked in confusion.

“Hermione? You coming?”

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