Weep No More

Draco had never found himself in a bigger mess than he did now. He was perhaps two feet from the door where, inside, he had planned a mad, passionate night of sex with Pansy. The thing was, the picture would be very wrong if he entered that door with Hermione Granger in his arms. His ruffled clothes and disheveled look wouldn't help him at all once Pansy saw him.

Of course, it wasn't his fault Granger was in his arms, muttering something about The Goblin Rebellion of '65. The plan had been simple, really. He, the mastermind of Potions, would prepare a simple Shrinking Potion, put it in Granger's goblet when she wasn't looking, and laughed his head off when she became no bigger than a thimble. But apparently he had forgotten to add the bee stings (or was it troll boogers?), and the potion had gone wrong. Very wrong. Granger had gone from amazingly smart prefect to barking mad. She kept rambling on about pain, deaths, children holding on to each other and acting like a six-year-old girl. The worst part, though, is that she kept calling him "Father".

Draco shifted her in his arms and kicked Pansy's door roughly. He needed help to get Granger back to her old self. He didn't think the teachers would be too pleased with him if she started singing "You Are My Sunshine" in the middle of the Great Hall. Though, they might be madder at him because of the potion...

"Draco!" Pansy squealed, opening the door in a rush. "Finally! I thought ---"

She trailed off as she stared at Hermione, then up at him. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH HER?" she roared.

"Lovely to see you too," Draco muttered, walking past her and into the room. He dropped Hermione onto the bed. "I have a problem."

"I'll say!" snapped Pansy. "Get that Mudblood out of my bed!"

"Don't be mad, Mother," Hermione whispered, looking at Pansy seriously. "Please."

Pansy blinked several times, and then stared at Draco. "Wha - Mother?" she demanded.

"She's gone off her dot," Draco tried to explain. "I gave her a Shrinking Potion, but it didn't work."

"THE ONLY THING THAT YOU MANAGED TO SHRINK MUST HAVE BEEN HER BRAIN!" Pansy bellowed.

"Screams," muttered Hermione, jumping off the bed. "People here use to scream as well. They huddled together in groups. Screaming, screaming..."

Draco gave Pansy a pointed look. "See! The hamster has stopped spinning the wheel in her head. I need you to help me reverse it!"

Hermione moved to the pile of dolls Pansy had on a shelf. She grabbed one and started to cradle it like a baby. "Will you play with me, Mother?" she asked, looking up at Pansy with a small smile.

"I'm not your mother!" Pansy snapped. Hermione giggled and continued to rock the doll. "You... you have to take her to Snape," she told Draco. "Granger's not like this."

"Snape will burn me alive," Draco said angrily. "There must be some sort of antidote."

Pansy let out a shriek as Hermione opened the closet and starting pulling out robes and dresses, throwing them on the floor. She finally stopped when she pulled out a red and gold gown. She twirled around with it. "May I have this, Mother?" she asked. "Father buys you pretty dresses. Can I have this one, please?"

"Absolutely not!" Pansy snapped, frantically picking up the rest of the clothes.

Draco thought it might not be wise to comment on the disgusting Gryffindor colours.

Hermione laid the gown on the bed mournfully. "That's what he told the children. 'Absolute not'. They starved. Starved..." She sat on the floor, looking at the wall.

"Who starved?" Pansy whispered to him.

Draco shrugged. "Granger?"

Hermione didn't look at him.

"Granger, I'm talking to you." She kept her eyes on the wall.

"You wouldn't call her by her last name, you idiot," Pansy said. "You have to call her by her first name. She thinks you're her darling daddy."

Draco looked disgusted. "Hermione?"

She turned around and looked up at him. "Grang --- Hermione, we're going to the shops, all right? We'll buy you a pretty dress like... like your mother's." He tried to not look disgusted.

"Really, really?" said Hermione, looking pleased. "Just like Mother's?"

"What are you going on about?" Pansy demanded, glaring at Draco. "You're going to buy a dress for her?"

"It's the only way to get her away from Hogwarts," Draco explained. "Look up an antidote while I take her to Hogsmeade. I know a secluded store."

"I will not!" Pansy snapped. "Just return her to Potter and Weasley. She'll never tell them what you did."

"And risk someone seeing me with her!" Draco gave her a glare. "Be a good girl, Pansy, and go do a bit of research. Meet me at Hog's Head at four."

"That's only two hours!" Pansy squealed. "We don't even know what she exactly has."

"There's a prefects' meeting at five, we don't have much time." Pansy nudged his arm and titled her head towards Hermione. She was pressing her hands against the wall and making soft squeaking noises. "What are you doing?" demanded Draco.

"This wasn't here before," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bars... jails... dementors..."

"You have to find out what she's rambling about," Draco added. Pansy nodded, took one last look at Hermione, and marched out of the door.

"Do you feel it?" Hermione asked him after a few minutes.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Feel what?" He expected that at any minute spiders - millions of them - might be crawling up his legs to answer his question.

"Can I have Mother's dolls?" Hermione reached up and pulled down a teddy bear from the shelf. "Mother has the most beautiful things."

"No, you cannot have Mother's dolls, and don't change the subject! What am I suppose to feel?" Take deep breaths, Draco thought. Deep breaths stay calm. What had gone wrong with that potion? He had been so careful. Stupid Granger, always messing things up.

"I want to go buy my new dress. Please, Father." Hermione smiled childishly at him.

Draco growled. "Come on then, Mudblood --- er, Hermione. Let's go buy you a dress." I am never, ever having children.

Hermione held out her hand. Draco didn't take it. What is she doing? Does she really think I'd touch something as filthy as her? Hermione just kept smiling at him. Did her pupils look bigger? She looked... well, weird.

"Father..." she urged, her hand still waiting for his.

She must be joking. "You can walk, can't you? Get up. I won't be holding your hand."

Hermione's lip trembled. "That's what the mother said to the daughter. 'I won't be holding your hand.' Then they escaped. The daughter crossed the rode quickly with her mother. Then, then..." Tears were falling down her cheeks.

"Then what? Why don't you finish your sentences, Granger?"

"I feel death, despair. Do you see them crying?" Hermione reached out her hand again.

Draco took it. He didn't know why, but he did. "Come on, Granger. Let's go buy you those robes. You really are off your dot. The only one crying here is you."

As he pulled her to her feet, she said, "The grim... it's real."