On Storm Tossed Seas

Chapter 10:Dententions and Tension

Harry trudged into the Gryffindor common room late Saturday evening after spending the day cleaning out the Quidditch locker rooms, without magic, as his detention for dueling. He made it across the room before collapsing on the couch. Moments later Ron followed him in, fingers looking like red prunes from finishing his day of washing meal dishes in the kitchen. With a sigh of exhaustion, he collapsed next to Harry.

"Man, I'm glad that's over!"

Harry nodded his agreement.

"I can't believe that Dumbledore didn't expel Malfoy. How he got out of that is beyond me."

Again, Harry nodded.

"Hi guys," Hermione chimed, walking down the stairs from her dorm. "Glad it's all over?"

Harry managed to find his voice. "Very. I had no idea that a locker room could be so dirty. I thought for sure I'd be done by lunch."

"Well, at least you had that hope. I knew I'd be stuck in the kitchen all day no matter how fast or slow I worked."

Hermione took a seat between the boys. "Well, you guys did deserve detention."

"Hermione! We were trying to help you! Who knows what Malfoy would have done if we hadn't shown up." Ron's face began to take on a pink tinge. "I mean, he had his arms around you, for crying out loud. What kind of spell did he put on you? Did you eat or drink anything that he gave you? I mean--"

Hermione tuned him out as he continued, unabated, for another few minutes. She knew that this conversation would have to eventually occur; now that it seemed about to, she wished it wasn't time. She didn't know how to answer Ron's questions. She still wasn't sure how she'd found herself in Draco's embrace. She couldn't understand why her heart beat faster whenever she thought about it or why she'd actually had a dream about him. A part of her almost believed that Draco must have placed a spell of some sort on her, there just wasn't any good explanation as to why she was having these thoughts and feelings.

"So?" Ron practically screamed in Hermione's ear, shaking her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Ron. What?" She watched Harry stifle a laugh.

"I asked you, why were you in Malfoy's arms?" He watched her carefully.

Taking a deep breath, she answered. "Ron, I don't really know."

Silence, punctuated by snaps and pops from the fire, lasted for a brief moment.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know!" his face completely red now.

"I mean, I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe he did perform a spell or something. All I know is that he was helping me with my nocturnal, and then--well, you guys walked out." She looked down, hoping that they couldn't see her blush in the low firelight.

Harry reached out a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder. "Hermione, we're not accusing you of anything," he shot a glare at Ron, "we just want to make sure that everything's okay. I mean, you have been spending a lot of time with Malfoy lately, not that you've had a choice," he added quickly when Hermione looked up at him with a flash of anger in her eyes.

As quickly as the anger flashed across her eyes, it disappeared. "I know you guys have been worried about all the time I've had to spend with Malfoy. I appreciate it, but he's been pretty much okay. Except for Tuesday night." She gave a heavy sigh.

"So, when do you have to start working with him again?" Ron asked, decidedly calmer.

"On Monday night. Dumbledore spoke with Professor Sinistra and asked her to forgive us our homework for this week. I don't think he told her why." She turned her head to gaze into the fire.

"Do you know what type of punishment Malfoy got?" Ron questioned.

She looked up at him. "Why would I know that? I know he wasn't expelled, but you obviously know that too."

"Okay, that was a stupid question. I think I'm just overly tired. I'm gonna head up to bed. You coming Harry?"

"I'll be up in a bit."

"Okay." Ron stood, stretched and headed up to his dorm.

The two remaining friends sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Harry finally broke the silence.

"Herm, I want you to be honest with me." He turned to look at her taking one of her hands into his and tilting her face up, to look into her eyes, with his other hand. "What was going on up there that night? Because it didn't look like you were struggling to get away from him. It looked like you wanted to be there."

Staring into Harry's caring emerald eyes, Hermione had the urge to tell him everything. Everything from when she first felt her heart beat fast when Draco looked at her; how he'd so tenderly held her hand in the infirmary; how she had looked forward to seeing him every evening; how she had wanted nothing more on Tuesday then to feel his lips against hers. She felt her pulse quicken as that thought pulsed through her mind again. The time was right; she'd tell Harry. Perhaps he could help her get past this insanity. She opened her mouth to say so, but nothing came out.

"Herm, whatever it is, I promise, I won't get upset with you." He watched her carefully for a few more minutes.

"Harry," she said, gently removing his hand from her face and looking down, "I really can't answer that question. Not right now. I'm just--well, a lot has happened this week, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I promise, though, that if I ever need to talk to someone, you'll be the first one I come to." She gave him a quick hug and darted up the stairs before he could stop her.

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Draco entered the Slytherin dungeon and swept across the room ready to go to bed. It had been a long day spent scrubbing cauldrons for Snape. Saturdays would most definitely not be something to be looked forward to from now on; though scrubbing cauldrons every Saturday until Christmas was highly preferable to being expelled. He reached the stairway preparing to move straight on up, when an unwelcome voice stopped him.

"Where have you been all day?"

Without turning, he answered. "It's none of your business, Pansy." He continued to proceed up the stairs, but Pansy moved in front of him, one step higher, placed a hand on his chest and glared into his eyes. Draco cocked an eyebrow, and spat, "What?"

"I just think I have a right to know what kept you busy all day long. It wasn't that Mudblood, was it?"

Draco almost backhanded her when she said Mudblood. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain calm, and kept his hands by his side. "Again, Pansy--it is none of your business." He removed her hand, none too gently, and pushed past her skipping every other step to reach his dorm.

The snores of Goyle and Crabbe echoed around the dark room. Draco quickly discarded his robe and clothing and slipped on a pair of dark green silk pajamas. Climbing into bed, he pulled the curtain closed around him, and lay, staring up at the green velvet canopy. A sense of injustice swept over him.

He was astounded that his detention only required him to clean cauldrons every Saturday. True, it was tough work, but it was really nowhere close to what type of punishment he should have received. He couldn't put a finger on why that exactly bothered him, though. Most people, himself included, would be thrilled with receiving less of a punishment than they deserve, but this time, at least, Draco was not satisfied. A loud sigh escaped him as he rolled over to get some sleep.

But sleep evaded him, his eyes opening focusing on the green curtains around his bed. His mind kept betraying him as his thoughts fell on Hermione. No, Granger. Mudblood Granger. He sighed, Hermione. Damn, why her? He couldn't figure it out. He'd been trained to hate her, to hate her kind. Perhaps the events of the summer had changed him in a way his father hadn't intended. That he'd helped Hermione when she shattered her jaw still plagued him. Part of the training that summer was to harden his sensitivity, but that apparently hadn't happened.

Yet, how he could help Hermione and curse Ron? It seemed contradictory; some of the training had stuck. And now that training had ruined something that could've been, what? Did he really want to be with Hermione? Be with her, no. Kiss her? His stomach flip-flopped as he knew the answer was a resounding yes. He closed his eyes at the realization and attempted to force her image from his mind as he finally gave way to exhaustion and feel asleep.

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Snape finished grading the last stack of essays just as Draco finished cleaning his last cauldron.

"Professor, I'll be going now," Draco had announced. With a nod, Snape dismissed the young man, his mind returning to his conversation with Dumbledore earlier that week.

_________

He shook his head at the Headmaster's request. "Albus, are you sure I'm the best one to talk with young Malfoy? Certainly there must be better qualified people."

"Qualified or not, Severus, you are the best person to reach him. You, better than anyone, know what he's facing." Dumbledore watched the face of the young potion's instructor carefully.

A heavy sigh escaped him. "Albus, I know you're right. I just don't know if I'm going to be able to do any good."

Dumbledore sat in silence for a few moments. "What I am about to share with you is strictly confidential. I suppose that if I am to expect you to fully understand why I need you, of all people, to mentor Mr. Malfoy, I should let you know the darker information he shared with me."

Severus looked up, uncertain if he really wanted to hear this.

Dumbledore launched into a lengthy description of what Draco had shared with him in the office only the night before. He watched as the potion master's eyes alternated between anger, compassion, and empathy. He noticed that Severus gripped the arms of the chair so hard at times that his knuckles grew whiter than normal. By the time Dumbledore had shared everything with Severus, his mouth was set in determination; Dumbledore knew he'd succeeded.

_________

Severus shook his head and looked around the empty classroom. "Now, if I just knew what to say," he muttered, standing and leaving for his quarters.

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September ended and the chill of October had fully set in. Draco and Hermione completed their nightly calculations in tense silence. Draco wanted to apologize to Hermione; he wanted to break the tension. Her stony appearance stopped him every time; Hermione's façade was more Slytherin-like than most Slytherin's. Her demeanor told him all he needed to know. She had no interest in discussing what had happened.

Hermione kept watching Draco out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to ask him why he'd performed the Cruciatus Curse, but every time she looked over at him, the hard look on his face stopped her. She wanted to believe that there was a reason why he'd done it; that it had been a mistake. But that Slytherin look on his face old her all she needed to know; it hadn't been a mistake. So why hadn't he been dismissed from Hogwarts in disgrace? Sure, Dumbledore was known for giving second chances, but this was an awfully risky second chance.

Each evening, the two students followed the same plan. Hermione used the nocturnal and the astrolabe; Draco, the sextant and cross-staff. They performed an eerie dance with one another: completing measurements; filling in the log book; glancing unobtrusively at one another. All the while never once touching each other, talking to each other, or actually catching the other's eye. Sailing homework created an even more difficult atmosphere. Tense words were flung across a large table in the library; parchment pushed brusquely between separate quills; large tomes shoved quickly from one side to the other.

Another Monday morning came and Hermione awoke early. She climbed out of bed and got ready before the other girls began their daily fight for the bathroom. She slipped out of the room, her bag slung over her shoulder, deciding to head to class a bit earlier. She reached the classroom door and pushed it open, sitting down and removing the navigation work that she'd worked on with Draco that week.

She dreaded the start of class each week; the joint presentation that Draco and her reported on meant working together. Glancing at the clock she noted that she had a half-hour of quiet to finish up a few items that she did not make her particularly pleased on their weekly report. Pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment, she began to sketch out a better way to record the star movements when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger. You are certainly here earlier than you need to be."

She looked up, her eyes being met by the deep blue of Dr. Branefeld's. She smiled at him and set down her quill.

"Good morning, Dr. I decided to take advantage of the quiet of the classroom. I'm trying to work out a better system to record the star movements. Something to make it less tedious and clearer."

He sat down in an adjacent chair and smiled. "Thinking like that is what makes you a top witch, Ms. Granger. I've heard about you, at the Ministry. You've made quite the name for yourself in your few years here at Hogwarts."

To her annoyance, she blushed. "I-I have?"

He chuckled lightly. "Oh, yes, Ms. Granger, you certainly have. You consistent above-board marks and your creativity has been well noted. As of matter of fact, it is quite fortunate that I have run into you. I was going to ask you to remain behind class today, however, no time like the present. I would like to offer you an internship in the Arithmancy department of the Ministry for the upcoming summer."

Hermione's eyes widened. An internship. "Dr. Branefeld, I'm honored that you would consider asking me, but doesn't the Ministry only take seventh years for internships?"

"Typically, yes, but in your case the Ministry is willing to make an exception. I don't expect an answer at this moment, Ms. Granger. For one, you will need to discuss the opportunity with your parents, since accepting the offer will mean that you will spend your summer at the Ministry. But, I would also like for you to consider what accepting this position will do for your future in the wizarding world. I do not know what thought you have given to the future, however this opportunity could give you an avenue towards determining that future."

Hermione sat in stunned silence. Dr. Branefeld had just offered her something that she had planned to work towards during her seventh year. A huge smile spread across her face. "Dr. Branefeld, if my parents agree, I will accept your offer. I was planning on applying for an internship during my seventh year."

He reached over and took her hand, pumping it heartily. "Wonderful, Ms. Granger. I'm pleased that you've accepted. Let me know as soon as your parents give you an answer. Now," he said, glancing at the door, "it appears that your fellow Navigator has arrived. I shall leave you two alone to work out your day's report."

As he stood and moved to the front of the room, Hermione's head swiveled to the door. Her eyes locked onto his and the light in the room seemed to all gather around him. Her heart began to increase its rhythm and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. He appeared to be as mesmerized by her as she was by him. Finally she tore her gaze from his.

"Malfoy."

He walked into the room and threw his bag onto the table. "Granger."

Sitting down the two tensely put the finishing touches on their report as students began to enter the classroom in small groups.

"So, an internship, Granger? Think your better than others? You know the only reason that you were offered the position is because you are friends with Potter and you are a Mudblood. It's good publicity for the--" His eyes widened as when she grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into his skin. He attempted to pull away, but her grip was like iron.

"Malfoy, I happen to know that you are just downright jealous that I have been offered an internship and you don't have an offer." She dug her nails deeper into his skin as she pulled him closer to her until only inches separated their faces, her eyes flashing dangerously and her voice coming out in a hiss. "You're just jealous because a Mudblood is superior to you, in all ways." She released her grip on his wrist, more because she suddenly wanted to kiss his lips.

He rubbed his wrist, his eyes narrowed, ready to make a caustic remark just as Dr. Branefeld called the class to order.

"Good morning class. Let's start right off with the report from our Navigators."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Wednesday night, Hermione gathered up her bag and headed out of the common room, Harry's Cloak and the book from the Restricted Section safely stowed in the bottom of her bag. She had decided to go to the library again to hunt for more information on the hydrophanous orb. She had read the unknown wizard's journal over more times than she could count, and she still hadn't found any other mention of the orb. Sighing, she reached the foot of the spiral staircase and climbed slowly to the top.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the bitterly cold air. Draco stood across the way already taking measurements with the sextant. For a long moment she stood and watched him. With a seemingly natural grace he moved his hand to adjust the instrument, brushed back a stray lock of hair, and glanced down to record his findings. He looked up again to finish his final measurement and bent down to replace the sextant in its case. Before he picked up the cross-staff, he placed both hands on the low wall before him, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hermione watched him, transfixed.

Quite suddenly, he turned.

"Herm--Granger! Finally decided to show up? Think that just because you'll be working at the Ministry you can do as you please?" He managed a half-hearted sneer.

"I--shut up, Malfoy." Embarrassed to have been caught staring, she briskly moved to her spot and began to pull out her instruments. Without further discussion, the two finished up their calculations. Hermione quickly packed her bag and spun on her heel ready to head to the library.

Draco watched in silence as she swept regally across the cold platform and through the door. Sighing, he reached for his bag, and followed behind her.

She reached into her bag once she had stepped into the hallway. Pulling out the Cloak, she flung it around her shoulders, and stepped lightly down the corridor. She reached the library, slid through the doors, and moved again to the Restricted Section. Placing her bag, and the Cloak, on a chair, she lit her wand and began another search. She had looked through three books before running across one that contained information, limited though it was.

The book ::Rare and Dangerous Magical Items:: had a small paragraph about the hydrophanous orb.

"There is only one known example of a hydrophanous orb known to exist. It is inky black in color and becomes transparent when wet. All other information on this orb is completely unknown."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione closed the book, and pushed it back into its spot on the shelf. Apparently, she was not going to be able to discover what the orb was for easily.

"So, you're at it again, Granger? Oh, what would Dr. Branefeld say if he saw you in here?" She spun and saw Malfoy casually leaning against a bookcase holding Harry's Cloak in his hands. She stared, slack-jawed, at him. "You know, you should know better than to leave something so valuable lying around." He smirked at her, and threw the Cloak around his shoulders.

Hermione flew into action.

In two large steps, she closed the gap between her and where Draco had just been. Grasping with outstretched hands, she unsuccessfully tried to grab a hold of Draco. She heard a low chuckle just behind her, and spun.

"Missed me, Granger."

She moved quickly towards where his voice emanated from, tried to find him, and shrieked when she felt him tug at her hair.

"Damn you, Malfoy, give me back the Cloak!" she hissed.

He laughed, "If you can find me, I'll be glad to give it back."

She listened carefully at the directions in which his footsteps faded and pursued him. His laughter at her failed attempts spurred her ever onward in the midnight chase. A book landing with a thud up ahead moved her even quicker down the aisle. When she reached the end, she paused. He could have taken any of the four forks ahead.

With a frustrated moan, she chose the farthest left aisle and slowly started down it.

"Wrong aisle, Granger. Thought you were smarter than that," Draco said, from behind her. She turned and started towards the sound of his voice. For another fifteen minutes, she stumbled about the Restricted Section hunting for any sign of Draco. Exhausted from an overuse of her senses, she leaned against the cold stone of a nearby wall. Her eyes slid closed, and she muttered some expletives about Draco under her breath.

"Those are some pretty harsh words coming from you, Granger," Draco murmured into Hermione's ear. "Though, strangely, they turn me on."

Her eyes popped open. Draco was standing in front of her, the front of the Cloak open. He stepped forward, grabbed her, and pulled her in. She struggled against him, trying to grab the Cloak at the same time. He only pulled her closer, slapped his hand over her mouth, and moved her close to the wall.

"Quiet!" he whispered. "Listen!"

Hermione obediently stopped her struggle and strained her ears. She heard a shrieking laughter followed by a loud crash.

"Peeves," Draco hissed in her ear. He then removed his hand from Hermione and the two pressed themselves tighter against the unyielding wall. A few seconds later, they watched books flying across the end of the aisle, and then Peeves popped around the end of the aisle. A look of glee was plastered across his face as he pulled and threw more books to the ground.

"Peeves!" a voice yelled. The two students watched in amazement as the Bloody Baron moved through a stack of books. He came to a stop in front of the now cowering Peeves. "I told you to stay out of here," he snapped, with a threatening gesture from his unsheathed sword.

"Y-your Bloodiness, I was just looking around for the Fat Friar. You haven't seen him, have you?" Peeves gave a nervous laugh. The Bloody Baron glared at Peeves, until he finally turned and fled from the library. Glancing around, the Bloody Baron sheathed his sword, smoothed his bloodstained clothing, and floated slowly down the aisle toward Hermione and Draco.

Hermione cowered closer to Draco as the Bloody Baron approached them. She wasn't entirely certain that he couldn't see them. She jerked slightly when she felt Draco's arm move around her waist, pulling her closer to him, as he simultaneously pulled the cloak tighter. Just when they thought the Bloody Baron was going to pass through them, he swooped upwards, and passed through the high-vaulted ceiling above.

They both sighed with relief. Hermione attempted to move away from Draco, but he held her firmly. She glared up at him, ready to tell him off, but a strange look in his eyes caused her to freeze.