On Storm Tossed Seas

Hermione's eyes shone with joy, a joy she couldn't share with any of her Gryffindor friends - any of her friends, for that matter. Harry stood at the call of his name and shared a tight-lipped smile with Hermione and Ron before moving to the front of the room, all eyes fixed on him. He reached the clear space in front of the Head Table and stood next to the blond headed Slytherin awkwardly. He glanced from the corner of his eye and caught Draco glancing at him at the same moment. He traded the slightest nod with him before snapping his head to look back across the Great Hall.

Dumbledore stood, raising his hand to still the cacophony of the students. Slowly the sounds died. After waiting for a few more moments, he spoke.

"A little over a week ago we witnessed an incredible feat of daring and bravery. A student risked his own life to save the life of another."

Applause began, stilled again, by the hand of Dumbledore.

"More importantly, the two students before me are from two houses which have been noted for animosity towards each other in all things. Today, we applaud the efforts of Draco Malfoy in his saving of Harry Potter."

A deafening roar met the words of Dumbledore. Hermione clapped hard, her eyes seeking out the eyes of Draco, a smile spreading across her face as he gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement, his eyes speaking of his love for her, before turning his gaze back into the air above the heads of the applauding student body. Though he'd declared to his housemates that his saving of Potter would make him look good, he was decidedly uncomfortable.

Praise did not sit well with him. Malfoy's did not receive praise.

Dumbledore again raised a hand and once the applause died out, he spoke again. "It is my privilege to award Slytherin house one hundred points for Mr. Malfoy's self-less act."

Again the room erupted, the loudest cheers coming from the Slytherin side of the room. Dumbledore raised his goblet in a silent toast and then the two wizards, each biting back the sneers that attempted to rise to their faces, turned, as per earlier instructions, and shook hands, before turning and following Professors Snape and McGonagall into the antechamber of the Great Hall.

"Ah, Draco Malfoy!" Rita Skeeter cried, pressing his hand with hers before pulling it back. "An amazing save. Breathtaking. Of course, if only I had been there, what a story it would have made, however I suppose I will have to do my best with a thorough interview." She trained her horn-rims on Harry and beamed. "And Harry! Last year the youngest Triwizard Champion, and now saved at the hands of an enemy. What a st..."

Snape stepped forward, cutting off her words. "I do believe that Headmaster Dumbledore gave you permission to have no more than 10 minutes with the two, Ms. Skeeter. Perhaps it would serve you better to skip the chatter and get to business?" Though the sentence came out as a question, the arch of his dark brow clearly indicated that it was not such. Rita nodded quickly, much to the relief of Harry.

The two students took their seats, Rita situated across from them while Snape and McGonagall remained standing behind their young charges acting as visual reminders to Rita as to just who was in charge here.

"Well, then, let's get started," she said, unhooking the clasp of her crocodile-skin bag and pulling out her quill and a pad of parchment. "Now, let's begin with you, Harry. Tell me, what were your thoughts when you lost control of your broom? Heartfelt terror? Astonishment?"

Harry's eyes darkened a tad. "I did not lose control of my broom. It was determined that the braking charm malfunctioned."

"Of course, of course. That is what I meant," she nodded vigorously, her impeccably manicured hand moving rapidly across her parchment. "So, when you're braking charm malfunctioned, what were your thoughts?" she questioned in a saccharine voice.

"Erm...I was thinking of trying to hold onto my broom," he answered, feeling decidedly stupid and wondering again why he had agreed to this interview, especially knowing that Malfoy would be interviewed with him.

"When you lost your grip and were plunging to certain doom, what thoughts went through your head?"

He blinked at her in utter disbelief at the stupidity of the question, his brain balking at the small effort it would need to use to even answer. "Er...I...well, I didn't want to die."

She nodded, smiling at him as if his answer were brilliant. "How does it feel to owe your life to a student who, for years, has been a known nemesis?"

Harry glanced at Draco and looked back at Rita. "I am grateful that he saved my life."

Her gold teeth glinted as she gave a large smile before turning her attentions to Draco. "You saved The Boy Who Lived. Quite the accomplishment. You must be aware that your spectacular feat will be talked about for years to come," she gushed.

With a carefully schooled voice, Draco spoke. "I truly never thought about that, Ms. Skeeter. My soul concern was to save Harry from certain death."

Harry glanced at Draco. To his knowledge he had never heard Draco say his first name before. It was surreal.

"Humility, Draco, is a wonderful quality to possess," Rita said.

Harry rolled his eyes, watching the two as they each played their game: one the humble savior, one the adoring fan. He was brought back to attention when he heard Professor McGonagall say his name and stood as he realized that the interview had been completed. He nodded with disinterest as Rita profusely thanked them both and followed the Professors back into the Great Hall.

The rest of the student body had left for their dorms and soon the two young wizards were striding across the empty room as the Professors slipped through side doors. Harry halted at the doors and turned to study the blond headed boy. Draco immediately put on his best sneer.

"Something you want, Potter?"

"As of matter of fact, yes, there is," he answered, crossing his arms.

Arching a brow, Draco simply waited.

"Why did you save me, really? I know it had nothing to do with any of that crap you told Rita. So, why?"

A strange flicker of something flashed through Draco's silver orbs. "It doesn't matter, Potter."

"Yes, it does."

The two stood, green piercing gray, until Draco finally spoke. "I did it for Hermione."

Without another word, he swept from the room leaving a confused Harry behind.

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

Hermione met Draco outside the door of Snape's office Friday after her last class. She smiled nervously at him as he took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You okay, Hermione?"

Shoving her nerves down, she attempted to give him a stronger smile, failing miserably. "Draco, Snape hates Gryffindors. He especially hates me. How could I be okay?"

She felt his hand tighten its grip on hers and looked up at him. The tenderness in his eyes as he gazed upon her helped to quell her nervousness, somewhat.

"I have a feeling, Hermione, that it's all an act. Don't ask me why, but I just have a feeling." He brought her hand up and brushed his lips against her fingers, ignoring the tinge of pain that simple gesture sent through his body. For the last few days he'd thought about almost nothing but his inability to kiss Hermione. He had reached a few conclusions of his own, but had not broached those with Hermione. From what he had concluded, he could not press his lips to her in any fashion without experiencing pain.

The touch of his lips on hers seemed to create the blinding, white-hot pain. He had schooled himself to deal with the lessened pain of his lips kissing her elsewhere, silently sending a hesitant thanks to his father for teaching him to deal with pain. A part of him felt bad for not having told Hermione that last part, but he knew she'd not allow him to kiss her soft hands and warm cheeks if she knew. And that was not something he was willing to give up.

He smiled down at her and kissed her nose, again closing his eyes to keep her from seeing the shock of pain that shone in his eyes. After a moment, he reopened them and turned to knock on the Professor's door. An indistinct sound came from the other side, which they assumed to be a 'come in'. Draco pushed the door open and entered the stifling smell of the room, his hand clasping Hermione's.

Hermione stood stock still, her eyes roaming around the room. Harry and Ron had told her a bit about Snape's office from their experience during second year, but she'd never had the chance to see inside Snape's domain. Her eyes lit up at the vast array of potions and potion equipment. One side of the room was lined with wooden shelves filled to a neat overflowing with ingredients of every sort. There appeared to be no order to the items at first glance, but Hermione's astuteness served her well; they were placed in accordance with the item's strength.

About five feet in front of the shelves resided a long wooden table covered with an assortment of vials, beakers, flasks and funnels. A burner, set on low under a beaker, coaxed a green liquid to create minute bubbles and a slightly acrid smell assailed her nose. Her eyes slid from the table to a wall chart that categorized the various elements in the wizarding world. She noted that it was familiar to the table of elements she'd learned in a summer Muggle science class a few years back. The difference in this chart was the sheer number of elements. Even her substantial memory skills balked at the idea of memorizing that particular list.

Starting by the wall chart, and spanning the remaining wall space in the office, were bookcases loaded from top to bottom. She glanced at the title of one book in particular, a smile tugging at her lips: Moste Potente Potions. Memories of the fun she'd had with Harry and Ron over the last few years flooded back in a heartbeat, reminding her how distant they had been over the last month. Draco pulled her from her reverie with a tug on her hand.

"Hermione," he whispered, nudging her.

She snapped her head up and flushed a bit as she realized that Snape had asked her a question.

"I'm sorry, sir. Could you repeat the question?"

Snape cocked an eyebrow above a dark eye and studied Hermione for a moment. "You are certainly disproving the current belief that you are one of Hogwarts best and brightest." He kept his imperious gaze locked on the girl until Draco stepped forward, shielding Hermione from view.

"Professor Snape, we have something of some urgency to speak to you about. Might we take a seat?" he asked, inclining his head towards the chairs scattered around a small round table.

Snape gave a Draco a cursory glance before turning, more to hide the smile on his face than anything else, and heading to the table. By the time he had occupied his chair, his customary sneer once again graced his face. With an impatient wave of his hand he indicated for Draco to get on with it. Surreptitiously he watched the interplay of the two former enemies while they interrupted each other, completing thoughts and sentences, during the weaving together of their story. At one point he realized that this relationship could do more to lead Draco from his path than any intervening on his part. He nodded in thought as Hermione finished speaking and leaned back in his chair, templing his fingers together and pressing his pointer fingers to his lips.

"I will need to look into this, but I have my suspicions. There is a curse, Adstrinxi Animae, however this curse is rarely used due to the instability of the results. I also only know of three wizards who could pull this off," he declared, giving a pointed look at Draco. The two students shared a look and then Draco's gaze locked onto Snape. He opened his mouth to speak but Snape cut him off with a look.

He stood and walked to his bookcases. Silence hung in the room as Snape searched the shelves before tapping the spine of an old tome and pulling it from the shelf. Leafing through it, he walked back to the table and placed the volume on the table before the two students. They each leaned in to read the words that Snape pointed out to them, Draco reading them quietly under his breath.

"Adstrinxi Animae. A most volatile curse. The Adstrinxi Animae curse must be performed under rigorous conditions and with the use of a variety of incantations as well as the use of wizard's sand. It is most potente if completed within the first three days of the birth of the infant."

He continued to read the page out loud. The text went on to explain, in much detail, the proper use of the sand, the patterns to be drawn, and the incantations to speak and when to speak them. A lengthy section cautioned against making mistakes, as a simple mistake could incapacitate the infant mentally. His voice faltered a bit as he reached the section explaining the reason for use of the curse. Hermione gave his clammy hand a gentle squeeze and picked up the reading, both students completely unaware of the presence of Snape at this point.

"Following the above instructions will have the desired effect of binding the soul of the infant for the desired purpose to keep the individual from ever being able to experience true love. If the individual begins to experience the emotions of love a searing pain will incapacitate them for a few moments. This should proof sufficient enough to prevent the individual from continuing down the path of love. There is no known counter-curse for this spell, hence it should be used only when matters demand it."

Hermione looked over at Draco and gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. He closed his eyes tightly. Snape cleared his throat, an unbidden lump having formed, after a few moments before speaking.

"Mr. Malfoy, this is only one possibility. I only bring it to your attention due to your father's," he paused, noting that Hermione listened with rapt attention, and searched for the right word, "associations. Give me some time and I will look for a way to determine if this curse is the reason for your pain. There are other possibilities, after all. It could simply be coincidence that you feel pain."

Even as the words left his mouth he knew, as did the two students, that there were no other possibilities. In bitterness of spirit, Draco pushed himself back from the table and hauled himself from the chair. Without a backward glance he trudged across the room, pulling the door open and disappearing.

Hermione sprang from her seat to go after him when a hand on her arm stopped her. In annoyance she turned to see who dared to stop her, her face paling when she looked up into the eyes of Snape.

"Ms. Granger, I applaud your concern for young Malfoy, however it would be best if you were to give him some time alone."

Exasperation sprang to her eyes at his words and she pulled her arm from his gentle grasp. Without thought for who Snape was, she snapped at him. "And if I go after him, are your going to take points from my house? Knowing you, you probably will."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she turned to follow Draco again.

"Ms. Granger, I know you care for him. I would strongly advise that you listen to me, however."

She halted half-way to the door when he spoke. Did she detect a hint of - compassion - in his voice? In disbelief she turned to look at him. His constant sneer had been replaced with what could only be described as concern.

"I do not presume to give you 'love' advice, Ms. Granger, however I have my reasons for wanting your relationship with Mr. Malfoy to continue. If you do desire to continue with him, I would suggest you leave him on his own for a while. He needs time to digest what he has just learned. I am sure, that with your intellectual prowess, you can understand that."

Hermione nodded mutely, a feeling of surrealism surrounding her as Snape spoke to her.

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I must look into this." He motioned for her to leave, turning to the still open book as she closed the door.

He sat heavily in the chair, pulling the book to himself and rereading the passages on the curse. There was no question in Snape's mind that Lucius had, in fact, performed this curse on his son; he knew Draco had no doubt either. That Lucius, fifteen years ago, felt his power strong enough to perform such a dangerous spell brought a deep, unsettling feel to Snape. It made him question, at the same time, his wisdom in attempting to help Draco out of his prescribed future.

True, Snape had been acting as a spy for many years, but he'd never really faced much danger; at least not until the end of last year. With the complete return of Voldemort, his own loyalties had been brought under some suspicion. He had been able to convince those of importance that he was still a faithful Death Eater. It would be the easiest thing in the world to step back and leave Draco and Hermione to their own devices. Getting involved in the situation would necessitate, at some point, Snape revealing where his allegiance truly lay.

Slamming the heavy book shut, Snape stood and tucked it under his arm. Dumbledore would need to be made aware of this particular situation. If Snape were to get involved it would need to be under the blessing of Dumbledore.

Reaching the stone gargoyle Snape sneered the password and stepped in as the gargoyle slid aside. After Dumbledore's acknowledgment, Snape entered the Headmaster's domain.

"Ah, Severus! And what brings you to my office on a Friday evening?" He pulled out a tin of lemon drops as the Potion Master slid into a chair. Snape cocked a brow at the tin, causing Dumbledore to smile at him. "Lemon drops not on your list of needed items at this juncture, I presume?" His smile only widened at the look that Snape shot him.

Taking a lemon drop for himself, he snapped the tin shut and sat down across from Snape.

"Then I will presume that you are here for a far weightier reason," he said, his eyes flickering to the large tome settled in Snape's lap.

Flicking the book open to the proper page, Snape handed it to Dumbledore. "Young Malfoy is apparently under the effects of this curse." At the incredulous look Dumbledore shot him after his perusal of the passage, Snape launched into a quick summary of what Draco and Hermione had shared with him.

"As you can see, there can be no other alternative. If it were any other student, I would search for alternatives, but knowing Lucius as I do, it is the only option that makes sense. The question is, for what purpose."

Dumbledore's ever twinkling eyes turned dull as the import of Snape's words registered fully. He leaned back in his chair after rereading the passage.

"What ultimate goal is Lucius seeking for in regards to his son, that is the question," Dumbledore corrected.

"Without question we know that Lucius fully intends for Draco to join the Death Eaters," he glanced at Dumbledore as he continued, "but that does not explain the purpose of the curse. A Death Eater has no restrictions upon them in regards to love. The only abiding rule is that a Death Eater be fully loyal, blindly loyal, to Voldemort."

Dumbledore nodded slowly as he listened to Severus, his mind trying to think like Lucius. "Perhaps, Severus, the reason for the curse is simply to act as an extra measure of control on Draco. Lucius does not enjoy leaving things to chance. Perhaps he knew that, given the right circumstances, his son could choose another path. From what has transpired between the young Malfoy and Ms. Granger, it is substantially clear that Draco is choosing a different path. So, now we are left with the task of finding a way to counter this spell. However, you must do your best to keep him from closing himself off, Severus." At the questioning look Snape gave him, he explained further.

"The intention of the curse, though not fully stated in the book, is not to give pain for the simplicity of giving pain. Think about it for a moment, Severus. What would you do in this case? If you believed, as young Malfoy must, that there is no chance of finding a way out, no chance of love being allowed to fully blossom, what response would you give?"

Snape sat back and let his mind work on that for a few moments before lifting his eyes to look at Dumbledore again.

"Albus, I will do what I can."

The two shared a long look before Severus gave a curt nod of his head and stood, smoothing his hand down his robes. Without another word he swept from the Headmaster's office, his mind already occupied with what he needed to do both break the curse and to keep Draco from falling into bitterness.

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

Draco reached the Quidditch Pitch, his broom slung over his shoulder, and stood stalk still for a moment. His father was a bastard. Nothing else described him better. He flung a leg over his broom and mounted. Pulling up hard on the handle he took the broom to it's top speed, shooting out over the perimeter of the Pitch and heading fast across the grounds. The chill in the air stung at his cheeks, but he ignored it.

There had to be someway to get rid of this curse. He just knew it. Growing up he had been taught that there was a counter to every curse, every spell, every hex; it was simply a matter of finding it. There had to be someone, somewhere, who knew how to counter the effects. Snape had said only three sorcerer's had the power to perform such a spell. Obviously his father was one of them, and asking his father was out of the question. And, who were the other two? He ran a short list through his head: his father, covered that; Dumbledore? Possibly. Snape? Well, if he were, he would have said something, right? Voldemort? Most likely, but the chance of getting help from him was more than laughable. In the wizarding world of Draco's knowledge, that summed it up.

So, now what? Should he attempt to speak with Dumbledore about it? Dumbledore had proven, so far, that he could be trusted. Draco hadn't sensed any change in his father's attitude since the confession in the Headmaster's office. He swooped low over the outskirts of the grounds before stopping and hopping from the broom.

Checking to be sure that he could not see anyone around, he ducked behind a bush, which led him to the base of a small hollowed out tree. He'd found this spot during second year. It was a place he came on rare occasions - occasion where he needed to be as alone as possible; to be able to think. Though he liked the empty classroom, there was something about the hollow tree that gave him a measure of comfort the drafty room never could.

Pulling up his knees, he leaned back against the dry wood and closed his eyes. Before going another step in this, he had to figure it out. Did he really love Hermione? He let the silence of the small enclosure descend upon him as he mulled the question over in his mind. So much had changed in him since the end of last year. Never could he have imagined that he would have been in love this year, let alone with Mudblood Granger.

A small chuckle escaped him at that thought. He couldn't recall the last time he'd thought of her as such. When he thought of her now, it created tingles in the pit of his stomach. He'd never felt that feeling before this year. Pansy certainly hadn't every caused him to feel anything but ill, and he'd not really found himself more than physically attracted to any of the girls at the school - until now. Did this tingle mean love? He could only surmise that it did. He knew he'd be willing to die for her at this point. At least, he certainly believed he'd be willing to do so.

At that last thought, he opened his eyes and made a decision. He loved her. The only available option left to him was to find the counter-curse to this spell. If it took years, he would find it. And now, now he'd go ask the one person who could answer his next question. Why?