On Storm Tossed Seas

Chapter 9: Aftermath

Hermione pushed open the door, as Draco pulled it open. The two froze when they saw each other. For the briefest moment, they gazed into each other's eyes, both desperate to turn the clock back thirty minutes; back before they were interrupted by Harry and Ron.

Draco wanted to apologize - apologize? - yes, apologize for what had he'd done. He wanted to take her back into his arms; he wanted to run his fingers through her hair; he wanted to finally feel her lips on his. He opened his mouth to say so, ready to acquiesce to the voice.

"Hermione--"

Time froze as her name fell from his lips. A shiver crept imperceptibly up her spine. Though she tried to convince her mind that it was a shiver of fear, she knew that the shiver had everything to do with the thought of those lips on hers; his strong arms holding her against his hard body. Would it be so wrong for her to give into that feeling? A silent battle waged in her mind as she weighed the pros and cons of such a union. The union of Slytherin and Gryffindor; of pureblood and Muggle-born; of evil and good. She chided herself. Why was she even entertaining such thoughts? She narrowed her eyes.

"Shut up, Malfoy. Or did you not understand when I said I didn't want you to talk to me?" She pushed her way past Draco and stormed across the platform.

When she reached the bags, she paused. She wanted to turn around to see if Draco was still in the doorway. If he were, what would that mean? Nothing. Something. Everything. It would mean everything. If he were gone. She let the thought die. No, he would be there. She tried to turn, but her brain wouldn't allow her limbs to move. With effort, she finally scooped up the bags and turned around, hoping.

Draco was gone.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she headed across the empty stones and back into the stairwell. Quickly, she made her way back down the spiraling stairs and turned the corner. As she did, she heard the distant voices of her fellow classmates; she'd made it down just in time.

Her heart was aching; she had experienced so many emotions in such a short time that she was unsure what to think or do. With her head down, she quickly moved through the hallways back to the Gryffindor common room, looping around the long way.

"Duffer doofer," she muttered at the Fat Lady.

"Aren't you supposed to be with the rest of your year up in class?" questioned the Fat Lady.

Hermione stood looking at the Fat Lady with exasperation written all over her face. "Just open up!" She waited for a moment longer before the Fat Lady, indignation stamped on her features, finally moved her large frame. Hermione stepped past her and moved into the empty common room.

Flames were still leaping joyfully in the fireplace. She moved over to the red couch, dropped her heavy load, sat down, and stared into the fire. The leaping flames took on their own shapes, her mind twisting them into images of Draco and her. Images that she could only imagine, but images that she undeniably wanted to turn into reality. She shook her head violently at the thought. What in the world was wrong with her?

Standing, she paced in front of the fire, relief flooding through her knowing that she had time to get herself back under control. 'Damn him', she thought. This was Malfoy! Not some nice Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. This was Draco Malfoy; son of a Death Eater; hater of Muggles. She needed to stay focused on that.

Besides, Harry and Ron would never understand if she actually gave into these insane feelings. They would think her daft. She would be put under consideration for being committed to St. Mungo's. She laughed out loud at the thought. No, that was a little much. Well, not by much.

With a huff she sat back down on the couch and turned her eyes back to the flames until her eyelids drooped, her dreams betraying her as they led her to dreams of Draco.

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With an ache in his heart, he watched her walk across the platform. It had taken effort to not grab her arm as she brushed past him. The effort it took to not move to her and make her listen to his apology felt like it would kill him. Every muscle in his body was taut with the desire to do so. His eyes bore into her retreating figure, willing her to turn. If she turned he'd go to her, that's what he'd do; if she turned. He watched her reach the pile of bags, his mind screaming at her to turn. She didn't. Tightening his hold on his bag, he turned and went back into the castle.

Heading towards the dungeons, he halted and spun, reaching the empty classroom and pushing the door open. Moving to the familiar window seat, he collapsed and stared out on the ever-peaceful Hogwarts' grounds. He replayed the evening in his head unwillingly. He could recall every curve and line on Hermione's face; closing his eyes, he could smell the intoxicating scent of her hair. He could feel the softness of her hands as he had held them. His stomach flip-flopped when he remembered how she had wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. He let a noisy breath exhale from his lungs, and shook his head.

The voice had tried; the voice had lost. He knew this was his last night in the safety of Hogwarts. Once Dumbledore learned what he'd done to Ron, he'd be expelled. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about Azkaban, not yet anyway; being an under-age wizard had some benefits. Once his father had finished 'molding' him, however, the fear of Azkaban would become an ever-present worry.

A violent shiver ran up his spine as the events of the summer invaded his mind. Screams of tortured muggles echoed in his brain. Revulsion spread across his face as he remembered the joy with which his father recited incantations. With pride, his father had pointed out the subtle differences of the effects of the curse, depending on how long you held the curse in place. He demanded that Draco practice again and again. He could remember the way that the muggles' voices turned from loud screams to harsh, hoarse pleas as the torture was continued for long, uninterrupted periods of time. The scent of blood mingled with sweat invaded his memory and he had to focus hard to get rid of the thoughts.

His father taught him the intricacies of knowing when the victim needed a break, in order to keep the victim alive, and when to finish off a victim. He had learned curses that were known only amongst those in league with the Dark Lord, and had not only performed them on others, but had been the victim of them as well. His father reasoned that it was important to know what each curse felt like; it created a stronger feeling of joy performing a curse when you knew the effects.

Suddenly, Draco was aware that he was shaking; sweat ran in rivulets down his ivory skin. His eyes snapped open, and he forced himself to gain control of his nerves. It took great effort, but he finally managed to calm down. Standing, he paced the length of the room. He almost chuckled out loud when he remembered the last time he'd been in here; the night he made his decision to forget about Hermione. A lot of good that decision did.

Moving back to the window, he resumed his former position and stared out of the window until his eyelids drooped.

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Finally, it came; the moment where their pride broke. Hermione stood at the parapet, her astrolabe in hand, as she sighted Polaris. She could feel his presence behind her and swallowed hard as his arms wrapped about her waist. Without thought, she turned and wrapped her arms about his neck. His eyes bore into hers.

"Hermione. It was mistake. I didn't mean to curse Ron. Please, can you forgive me? I was an idiot. All I want, Hermione, is to kiss you."

She shivered at the timbre of his voice. How could she possibly not forgive him. The raw honesty in his voice compelled her to do so. She nodded as her hands ran, finally, through his silky soft locks. She always knew that this was what his hair would feel like. Her eyes fell onto his smooth lips. If his hair felt so good, it was a sure bet that his lips would feel divine.

"Draco, I do. I forgive you."

Without another thought, she pulled his lips to meet hers. Shockwaves ripped through her body. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue grazed lightly along her lower lip before entering to explore the soft contours of her mouth. She shivered with delight. Kissing him was more wonderful than she could have imagined. He pressed his hand into the small of her back, bringing her closer to him as she moaned against his mouth. His lips moved from hers to trail hot kisses along her jaw line to the milky white column of her throat. She gasped as he nipped her neck lightly, his fingers running nimbly into her cloak and robes, seeking entrance.

His hand brushed along the waistband of her skirt before he pulled the shirt out and slipped his hand underneath to trace lazy patterns on her soft skin. He smirked against her throat as she goose bumped. Her hands gripped his cloak tightly and she moved her head to capture his soft lips again. Her entire body tingled as his fingers continued to run across her skin, her breathing came out in ragged breaths as she pulled from his kiss again.

"Hermione!"

The sound of a female's voice startled her. 'No,' she thought. 'Damn, not now.' She heard her name called again and Draco began to slip from her arms. Suddenly, she felt someone shaking her.

Her eyes popped open and she groaned. She had been dreaming. Lavender stood and looked at her, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Hermione? Are you alright? Why are you sleeping on the couch? And why weren't you in class last night?"

"I wasn't feeling too well," she answered in a groggy voice as she still tried to grapple with the truth that she had been dreaming about Draco. Not just dreaming, but dreaming about kissing him. Unbidden, her hand rose to trace her lips before she abruptly pushed herself up and stood. Brushing past the excitable Lavender, Hermione headed to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and got prepared for the day.

She headed to the Great Hall where she picked at the food on her plate. Unconsciously her eyes kept darting to the Slytherin table searching for the flash of blond hair. Suddenly she pushed herself up from the table, her uneaten food growing cold as she left the Great Hall and made a bee-line for the Hospital Wing. She just needed to be around Harry and Ron, that would make her forget the memory of his lips on her skin in her dream.

Pushing the door open, she called out, "Madam Pomfrey?"

Madam Pomfrey popped out of her office when she heard the student's voice. "Ah, Ms. Granger. I am guessing you are here to inquire about the condition of your friends?" She waited for Hermione's acquiescence. "Well, Harry should be up at any moment, he'll be joining the rest of the school today, however, Ron will be here for a while, still. I'm not sure why, but he's still feeling poorly. What happened with your little 'wand problems'?"

"Oh, I-I don't know. That's why I brought them here." Hermione hated lying, but she wanted to wait until Ron was feeling better before she made a decision about whether to tell on Draco or not.

Madam Pomfrey looked suspiciously at Hermione. "Well, okay, you may go see them." She watched Hermione maneuver her way around hospital equipment as she made her way to Harry's bed. 'If there is not something going on with that girl, I'll eat my apron,' she thought, before returning to her office.

"Harry?" Hermione gently shook him. "You awake yet?"

Harry mumbled something unintelligible.

"Harry, come on, wake up."

Harry slowly opened his eyes. "Huh?"

A smile spread across Hermione's face. "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"

"What time is it?" he asked, groggily.

"Seven in the morning. Madam Pomfrey said you could leave, if you want."

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and turned to look at Hermione. "Yeah, I want to get out of here. What about Ron?"

"He needs to stay a little longer." Guilt crossed her features. "She's not sure what happened to him, so she's keeping him for observation."

"Look, Herm, we have to go to Dumbledore about this." Hermione looked away from him. "I don't understand why you are so reluctant. I mean, this is Malfoy we're talking about. If it had been, oh, let's say, Lee Jordan, who had done this, I'd be willing to find out why, but we know why Malfoy did this. He did it because he's going to be a Death Eater; because he is evil."

She stood looking at Harry, knowing that what he was saying made all the sense in the world. She took a quick breath, banishing the shiver that attempted to creep up her spine. "You're right. Will you go with me to see Dumbledore?"

A smile of relief appeared on Harry's face. "Yes, I will." He looked over at the sleeping Ron. "Should we wake him?"

"No, let him sleep. I'd rather get the whole telling on Malfoy thing out of the way, first."

Harry nodded and stood up. Grabbing his cloak from a nearby hook, he draped it over his arm and left the Hospital Wing with Hermione in tow.

"Do you want to get something to eat, first, Harry?"

"Nah, I'd rather go talk with Dumbledore, first."

"Okay."

They walked in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts until they reached the stone gargoyle standing guard in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's. Harry turned abruptly and studied Hermione for a few quiet moments.

"Herm, what's going on? I mean, it's not like you to attempt to protect Malfoy. Did, did something happen last night?" He could swear he saw her cheeks flush a bit.

"Harry, it's," she paused and took a deep calming breath. "Nothing happened. We were working on our navigation work."

"With your arms around each other?" He lifted a brow incredulously, his eyes locking on hers and searching.

She tore her gaze from his after a few uncomfortable moments. She wanted to tell Harry. More than anything she wanted to tell Harry. The problem was, she didn't know what to tell him. She wasn't even sure about what had happened last night. She wasn't sure about anything that had happened between her and Draco since they had first been assigned as partners for sailing class. 'You're sure you want to kiss him,' her mind taunted. She shook her head, banishing the thought, however temporarily. She finally looked back into his eyes.

"Can we deal with that later?"

He continued to study her. He could see, quite plainly, the conflict in her eyes. One thing he knew about Hermione, pushing her would not get him the answers he sought. He smiled after a moment.

"Sure. One problem at a time." He turned to face the gargoyle.

After a few tries, Harry stumbled upon the correct password and the two students ascended the narrow staircase.

Harry reached up and knocked on the door. A muffled 'come in' was heard, and he pushed the door open.

"Ah, Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger! Please, have a seat." He motioned them to a couple of chairs as he pulled a tin from his robe and opened it for them. "Lemon drop? I always find a lemon drop helps the words to flow better." Harry politely shook his head as Hermione muttered a thank you and took a proffered lemon drop. Dumbledore popped one into his mouth, snapped the case closed and took a seat.

"Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, sir. There is," Harry replied.

"Well, then, no time like the present." His blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses.

"Well, sir, the thing is--"

"We have sort of a hypothetical question," Hermione interrupted, receiving a glare from Harry. "Let's say that some students are having a duel, and one of them, without meaning to, casts an Unforgivable Curse?"

Dumbledore silently looked at Hermione for a long moment. "Well, to begin with, a duel is punishable by detention and loss of house points. But, for a student who casts an Unforgivable Curse, he or she faces much more serious action. Fortunately, for a student, being put in Azkaban is extremely unlikely, however, other repercussions are unavoidable. Now, did you two come here to ask me about hypothetical problems?"

Harry looked over at Hermione and gave her a look that told her to stay quiet.

"Draco put the Cruciatus Curse on Ron last night." Harry said quickly, before Hermione could stop him again.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and looked back over at his students.

"Continue." For the next half-hour, the two told Dumbledore what had occurred in the Astronomy Tower; Hermione being careful to not include any of the more private moments she's had with Draco before the interruption. They finally reached the end of their story and both looked over at Dumbledore.

"Thank you for informing me. I will take care of it. I would ask that you two keep your knowledge to yourselves; you two may leave now. If I am in need of further information, I will let you know."

The two stood and prepared to leave Dumbledore's office. But he stopped them with his next sentence.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter, when Mr. Weasley is feeling better I will inform the two of you of the nature of your detentions." Harry grimaced and followed Hermione down the stairwell.

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Draco entered the Great Hall rubbing at a sore spot in his neck from falling asleep sitting up, and slid into his customary spot at the Slytherin tables. He reached for a plate of pancakes, and stacked a few on his plate before drowning them with pumpkin syrup.

"Draco, hey man, where were you last night?" Crabbe asked, slipping onto the bench next to Draco while Goyle sat down on the other side of Draco.

"None of your business." He violently attacked his stack of pancakes with his fork.

"I was just wondering." Crabbe turned to look at the variety of food on the table and quickly piled up his plate. Goyle quickly copied the actions of his counterpart, and the three boys ate in silence.

A flutter of wings announced the arrival of owl post, and students looked up eagerly awaiting packages and letters. A large barn owl swooped down and dropped a small note in Draco's lap. He opened it, curious.

Mr. Malfoy,

I request your presence in my office after your Care of Magical Creatures class to discuss a matter of some importance.

Thank you,

Dumbledore (password: chocolate ice cream)

Draco folded up the letter and shoved it in his robe pocket, a sinking feeling settling on his stomach. Tomorrow he would be back at home for good; tomorrow he'd begin his forced training in earnest. He suddenly felt extremely ill. Jumping up from the table, he raced out of the Great Hall, leaving a confused Crabbe and Goyle behind.

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The morning passed quickly; too quickly. Before he knew how it had happened, Care of Magical Creatures was over. Slowly, he made his way to Dumbledore's. He reached the gargoyle quicker than he wanted to, and muttered the password.

The gargoyle slid open, and Draco ascended the stairway with a heavy heart. He knocked on the door, and entered when Dumbledore's voice instructed him to.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, take a seat."

With mounting fear, he took quick strides to the chair, and collapsed in the chair. He kept his head down, and studied the contours of his black robe. Excuses for his actions were racing through his head; he didn't want to go home. He snapped his head up and shook it mutely as Dumbledore offered him a lemon drop.

After returning his tin to his robes, Dumbledore spoke. "I have heard some disturbing news, and I would like to hear your take on what occurred."

Draco, his mouth dry with fear, tired to speak, but couldn't. He could feel pressure behind his eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore stood and moved over to an adjacent chair, "I cannot assist you if you to not tell me what happened. As it stands, I may have to dismiss you from this school." Dumbledore carefully gauged Draco's reaction to his words. He nodded to himself when he saw the young man imperceptibly stiffen. "However, if I determine that you were not acting in malice, but for another reason, dismissal will not be considered." He watched the young man's shoulders relax a little.

For a time, the two sat in silence. Draco finally spoke. "I didn't mean to do it, sir." He flinched as he recalled saying those words to Hermione, and the cold look he'd received from her. "It was an accident."

"An accident? Mr. Malfoy, casting a curse of that magnitude is not something that any fifth year student can do. It's not even something that seventh years are likely to know. I do not want to pry into your personal business, but I must know two things: one, how you learned this curse, and two, why you deem it an accident." He watched as Draco leaned forward in his chair, and dropped his head into his hands. "I know that it may be difficult, but the alternative is dismissal. Therefore, Mr. Malfoy, I believe you are left with little choice but to give me the information I require. I promise you, what you say in here will not go beyond the door."

Staring at the floor, Draco tried to figure out how to tell the Headmaster all that had happened to him over the summer. "Sir, I--I can't tell you everything, without harming--others." He thought about the threat his father had thrown, so casually, at Draco at the end of a muggle torture session. 'My son, I sense your reluctance to join us. Please, take care that you do not do anything that would ultimately cause considerable pain to your mother.'

"Again, Mr. Malfoy--I give you my word that I will keep all that you tell me private. I understand that some secrets have dire consequences if they are divulged."

Taking a deep breath, Draco began. "My father is a Death Eater--," he looked up, "but I believe you know that already, according to Potter." He waited for acknowledgement from the Headmaster, before continuing. "He has great plans for me in the future ranks of You-Know-Who--"

"Please, Mr. Malfoy, let's not show fear of Voldemort's name."

Draco gave a reluctant nod. "Since I was young, my father has been teaching me the Dark Arts--makes my Defense class a piece of cake--" He laughed derisively. "But this past summer, things changed. He has been pushing me harder than before; almost desperately. This summer, he forced me to participate in the--in the--" He buried his head in his hands. "In the torture and death of muggles." His voice broke, and a sob wracked his body. He'd never said that out loud before. As he did, the screams of those he'd tortured and killed came back, louder this time. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he forced himself to gain control of his emotions.

Dumbledore watched as Draco regathered his strength, and continued, in a gentle voice, "Mr. Malfoy, I am certain that what you have experienced is beyond imagination. For your sake, you need not go on. Just tell me why you performed the Cruciatus Curse on Mr. Weasley."

Looking up, he gave the Headmaster a grateful smile, before his face resumed it's typical exterior. "I didn't mean to do it. It was reflex. He attacked me from behind, and--and it was the first curse to pop into my head." He dropped his head again, in defeat, as Hermione's stony face flooded his mind. In a hoarse whisper he said, "If I could take it back, I would."

"That's what I hoped you'd say, Mr. Malfoy. I will get back to you later with your punishment, as I must give it some thought. Also, I will be asking Professor Snape to speak with you. You are dismissed."

Draco gave Dumbledore a strange look at the mention of Snape, but the Headmaster did not appear inclined to go into details. Slowly, Draco stood, and departed from the office.