Vita Labyrinthae Similis In Quo Umbrae Vagamus

CHAPTER 14

is dedicated to Love Gordon, who drew me an illustration for this story :)

Who was the boy who had made so miraculous an escape? Who was the rangy stranger who had saved him?

--Mervyn Peake

The snow stopped falling around dawn. Nadezhda was already up, pacing her red-carpeted floor, trying not to think about what questions the Ministry might ask them later that day. She had bathed, early, with the greyish light barely making an impression on the dimness of her chambers, and dressed in her only set of dress robes, and tried to do something with her hair. More than ever these days it seemed to want to escape whatever bonds she placed it in, and fall in a profusion of blood-coloured waves almost to her knees. I should cut it, she thought. One less thing to worry about.

But she couldn't erase the memories of Severus playing with its long fall, twining the strands into intricate braided knots she had to un-charm with her wand before she could brush it out, and she knew she would not be able to cut it. She settled for braiding the stuff into two long plaits and pinning them in a coronet at the crown of her head, and hoping nobody would pay much attention to her appearance. Certainly the robes did her no credit. They were old, dating from her early days of Ministry work, and thoroughly out of style: cut straight up-and-down out of dark violet velvet, with no tailoring to her figure, and long sweeping sleeves that touched the ground as she walked. She had done her best with them, clasping a long silver-tooled belt around her waist to give the silhouette some shape, but she knew it was not a particularly impressive effect.

What the hell are we going to say? she demanded of the high windows that let out onto the lake. What can we possibly say to hide the fact that we used a sixteen-year-old and untried witch in the Vita Reflectus charm, which has probably unleashed powers she never dreamed of having, and will require a great deal of covering-up in order to train her properly? What can we say about our killing of a very prominent wizard in the defense of his son, who has done no real wrong? And what, in Merlin's name, is going to happen to us once we've said it?

She lit a cigarette, distractedly, still pacing. They were due at the Ministry at nine; it was now seven-fifteen. All around her the Castle moved sleepily through the rituals of morning. She could vaguely hear, and see through her multiple scrying charms, the house-elves scurrying about their business; outside the birds had begun to sing, welcoming a new day to the world.

Somebody knocked on her door, which startled her so badly she dropped her cigarette and had to hunt swiftly under her desk for it before it could singe the carpet. "Yes?"

"Professor?" A student's voice; a low, uncertain student's voice, close to the door.

She sighed, straightened her robes, and waved her wand at the lock. The door opened to disclose the dressing-gown-clad form of Harry Potter.

"Potter?" she demanded. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"

"Professor," he began, colouring, "I, um, wondered if I could ask you some questions about Draco Malfoy."

She lifted an eyebrow, but motioned to the seat before her desk. "Like what?"

Potter took the indicated chair, not looking at her. "Um. I...well, I've been concerned about Hermione Granger, you know, and last time I went to see her I was turned away because she and Draco were...studying together. That in itself is weird. But I mean...I've been wondering about him. Last time I saw him close up, he looked like death. In the dungeon bathroom. And then he disappeared, and nobody saw him for a month. I asked Hermione about it when I saw her, and she said she'd helped you and Professor Snape do a charm on him that saved his life. He was being cursed." He paused, looking fixedly down at his hands. "And...well, I was worried about him. I don't believe what the Headmaster said to us that day, that it was a magical accident that hurt him. I believe Hermione."

Nadezhda cursed volubly in Russian, staring at the ceiling. Once she'd got her feelings under control, she returned her gaze to Potter, who was looking a bit out of his depth. "Sorry. Fiery temperament, you know. Christ, Potter, what brought this on? I mean, I can understand your concern for Draco, what with the situation you and Granger walked in on, but why did it take you a month to come to somebody about it?"

"It happened yesterday," said Harry Potter very seriously. "Yesterday afternoon. I and a bunch of other kids were outside playing Quidditch, sort of. It was the sort of thing you do when you really don't want to be studying."

"I know," said Nadezhda mildly. "I saw you lot whizzing about out there around three in the afternoon."

"Yeah. Well, we went on playing for a while, and eventually we all got kind of wet and tired and decided to go in. Ginny...you know, Ron's sister....she was on a borrowed broom, and just as we all put our own brooms away she started screaming." He looked at her with wide guileless green eyes. "Her broom was failing. It was an ancient Cleansweep Five, I think, and apparently it stalled out at heights above a hundred feet. Anyway, we all panicked and ran around like headless chickens, while the broom jerked about for a few minutes and finally gave up altogether."

Nadezhda drew a long, measured breath. "And?"

Potter looked at her levelly, his eyes clear and full of memory. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet. "She was falling. My Firebolt was locked in the broomshed and my wand was back in Gryffindor Tower. All I could do was watch her die. But...before she hit the ground....someone Levitated her. None of us did it. We all watched her float to the ground. Everyone assumed I'd done it, for some reason. I happened to glance up at the hospital wing...you know those windows look right out over that stretch of ground. Malfoy was leaning out of the window at the far left, his wand in his hand. I think...it was hard to tell, from that distance, but I think he looked concerned." He paused, fixed Nadezhda again with that emerald gaze. "Malfoy saved her, Professor. What happened to him?"

Nadezhda passed her hands over her face, thinking fast. "It's not my place to tell you that, Harry," she said at last. "You're right...something did happen to him. Something life-changing. But it's Draco's story to tell, if he chooses to tell it. All I can say to you is that he is no longer limited to being the Malfoy you always knew him as. He's been...freed, in a way."

"And Hermione?" pressed Harry. "What's going on with her? She's seemed so odd and withdrawn lately."

"That, you may find, has changed," said Nadezhda, crushing out the smoldering cigarette butt. "She has recently discovered she has some rather remarkable abilities, which will require additional training and possibly registration with the Ministry. Look, Harry, like I said...it's not my place to tell you these stories. Ask Hermione. Ask Draco. I can say that they're both....recovering."

"Ron's having issues thinking about Malfoy as the guy who saved his sister's life," said Harry moodily, scuffing his toe against the carpet. "He's so used to equating Malfoy with evil that the idea of a human Malfoy is kind of hard to internalize."

"He won't be the only one," said Nadezhda quietly. "Both Draco and Hermione will have a difficult time of it for a while."

Harry looked up, and again she found herself thinking how green those eyes were, how very green, like the dark depths of icebergs, or the banded shadows of malachite. "Professor," he said simply, "they...made a connection, didn't they."

"Yes, Harry," she said. "I believe they did."

He nodded, resignedly. "I should be going. Studying, you know. Waits for no man."

"Indeed," said Nadezhda. "Good luck, Harry. And....do talk to your friend Hermione, won't you? I think she might need someone's support for a while. What she's suddenly able to do is not necessarily all good."

He nodded again, and left. Nadezhda sighed. Poor kid. He's got tests to worry about on top of whether Malfoy's making time with the girl he'd just realized he rather liked.

She had just finished drinking her third cup of extremely powerful coffee when Snape knocked on her door. He, too, was in dress robes, only his were rather elegant and much newer than her own, made of deep green velvet with silver clasps at the throat. He looked pale and tired and worried.

"Hello, love," she said. "Shall we get this over with?"

"Oh God yes," he said. "Do you know, I haven't felt this nervous since my NEWTs?"

"I've gone beyond nervous," she admitted. "I'm sort of lightheaded."

He grinned suddenly. "All we've got to tell them is the truth, right?"

"As far as I know."

Together, they made their way to the entrance hall, where Dumbledore had set a Portkey in the shape of a torchbracket on the wall, held hands, and touched it. There was the familiar lurching sensation in the pit of Nadezhda's stomach, and then she blinked in the sudden brilliance of early morning in London.

She and Severus stood before the great facade of the Judiciary Wing of the Ministry. It looks like the Winter Palace, she thought absently, in all this snow. The building was done in a pale stone, quite simply designed (by Inigo Montoya-Jones in 1799, her mind added helpfully) and yet thoroughly imposing. She felt Severus's hand tighten in hers as they approached the great entranceway. He was coughing again in the sharp air. She wondered absently what memories this place brought back for him.

"We're expected," she said in a brittle voice to the young wizard behind the great walnut desk in the foyer. "The hearing on the Malfoy case."

"Ah," said the wizard. "Severus Snape and Nastasya Serenskaya?"

"Yes,"

"Please, follow me."

He led them through vast echoing corridors to a door flanked by pillars and surmounted by the Ministry crest. "The hearing will begin in half an hour. Please go in."

Inside, it was like every other courtroom Nadezhda had ever been in; wood-paneled walls, rows of spectator seats, the great high podium of the judge with the witness-stand beside it. Witches and wizards in a plethora of dark subdued colors already thronged the spectator section and filled the chairs of the council panel; she could make out some familiar faces from her Ministry days, but most of the people here seemed to be here in order to gloat over the downfall of House Malfoy. She couldn't really blame them.

She and Severus took their seats in the main courtroom, and she could see Severus pointedly ignoring the whispers and fingers pointed in their direction. She looked straight ahead of her and waited for all of it to be over.

It took a long time, and was unpleasant. Both Severus and Nadezhda felt as if the entire crowd of spectators was pointing accusatory fingers at them, even though the questioning mostly dealt with their knowledge of Lucius Malfoy.

"Severus Antonius Snape," said the judge quietly, and the buzz of commentary quieted abruptly. "You were once a Death Eater, is that right?"

"Yes," said Severus evenly. "I was once a Death Eater, but I am no longer part of that brotherhood."

"We recall. Last year when your Mr. Potter had his last run-in with the Dark Lord, your name came up as one of the ex-Death Eaters involved with the return of You-Know-Who. You were cleared by this tribunal from all guilt."

"Yes, your honour," said Snape, as if he felt less than cleared by the whole thing.

"In any case, you were aware of Lucius Malfoy's activities?"

"Some of them, your honour. I knew that Lucius was involved with Muggle drug and prostitution rings, and I was aware of his Dark Arts alliances, of course."

"And you never reported him to this court?"

Severus looked ill. "Your honour," he began. "Despite my name being cleared, Malfoy and his associates still kept a close eye on me. Closer, perhaps, after the hearings. Had I made any move to report Malfoy, I would not be here now. Malfoy is....was....extremely well versed in the Dark Arts."

The court was quiet for a moment or two, internalizing that. "We see," said the judge. "So. Malfoy and his cronies were engaged in the Dark Arts, and this affected his son?"

Nadezhda sighed and nudged the counsel sitting next to her. "May I speak?"

He attracted the judge's attention and announced her. "You are Nastasya Kallikrevna Serenskaya," said the judge evenly. "Daughter of the famed Auror Kallitrates Serensky and one-time employee of this Ministry?"

"I am," she said, rising. "I now teach Defense against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School. Your honour, Draco Malfoy would have approached me several times to discuss the problems he was encountering with his father and his assigned future. I asked him if there was something he'd like to tell me, and it was clear that he could not speak about it for fear of something I didn't understand. However, on the night of October 31^st, two of his schoolmates found me at the Halloween Ball and told me that Draco was desperately ill and needed help. Following them, I found him to be under the influence of a powerful Dark curse, and brought him to Severus Snape for help."

"Why not the nurse at Hogwarts?" inquired the judge.

"Many reasons," said Nadezhda wearily. "Mostly, because Draco asked for Professor Snape. Draco isn't exactly popular at Hogwarts, your honour, and Professor Snape is among the few people he trusts. I felt that it was important to obey his wishes."

"Go on."

"Thank you. I brought Draco to Professor Snape, and we examined him. It was apparent that he was dying of the simulacrum mortus curse."

There was a murmured whisper that ran through the crowd at that; the simulacrum mortus, as Hermione had said, had been outlawed in the middle ages because of its sheer cruelty. "Draco was lucid enough to tell us of the events he'd experienced in the days preceding the curse. His father Lucius had apparently been grooming him to accept induction into the Death Eater brethren, and he had been excited about this until he had come by accident upon a Pensieve belonging to Marcus Crabbe, the father of a friend of his. The Pensieve had shown him events from the life of Mr. Crabbe, and also events from the life of his own father Lucius Malfoy. Apparently Mr. Crabbe had been employed for some time as an unofficial servant of Mr. Malfoy, and the things Malfoy had had him do....were not exactly pleasant. Draco mentioned several murders his father had done for which Mr. Crabbe had had to clean up. Having seen this Pensieve, and understood what exactly his father was—and what he himself was getting into--Draco was less than enthusiastic about joining the Death Eaters. He asked for some time to consider it. Lucius Malfoy granted him twenty-four hours." Nadezhda paused, ran a hand over her face. Beside her, Severus was shivering in the chill of the courtroom.

"In any case, Draco decided he couldn't become a Death Eater. You must understand that this was an incredibly important decision for him to make. He had been bred and groomed all his life to become a servant of You-Know-Who. He had been told that the Death Eaters were a righteous and valorous band of brothers to whom he should be honoured to belong. But he found himself unable to reconcile righteousness and valor with the things he'd seen his own father doing in Crabbe's Pensieve. He told Lucius that he would not be a Death Eater. Lucius...reacted badly." She looked down at the desk in front of her, back up to the white-whiskered judge. "He told Draco that he would have nothing to do with a son who would not carry on what he considered to be the family name and pride, and that if Draco would rather die than become a Death Eater, he would have his wish. That night, at the Halloween Ball, Draco began to feel ill. Shortly afterward he realized that he was under a curse. When Potter and Granger found him, he asked to be taken to Professor Snape."

"So you are saying that young Malfoy was attacked by his own father?"

"Indeed we are," said Severus, rising. "It was apparent to me on examining the boy that he was under the influence of powerful Dark magic. His story corroborated my examination results. I did a few further tests on him and found out that he was being killed by the simulacrum mortus. It gibed with my own experience of Lucius Malfoy and his tactics. It was apparent to both myself and Professor Serenskaya that Lucius was killing his son with the simulacrum mortus. Neither of us knew what to do."

"So how did you save young Master Malfoy?" demanded the judge, curious despite himself. In his long experience with the wielders of Dark magic, nobody had ever survived a Seventh-Level curse like the simulacrum mortus. Nadezhda swallowed, looked at Severus.

"Well," she said, "we didn't know what to do until Miss Hermione Granger knocked on the door. Granger was one of the students who had found Malfoy in the first place. She had come to see if he was all right. Unfortunately, she caught a glimpse of Malfoy, and we had to explain to her exactly what was going on. She showed surprising maturity and professionalism. We both had given up on Draco when she discovered a possible cure in Burnside's History of Magic."

An ancient wizard waved happily from the spectator section. "The Vita Reflectus!" he called. "Love that spell!"

Nadezhda smiled tightly. "Indeed it was the Vita Reflectus charm. Miss Granger was unable to read the German passage of the book dealing with the possible cure. Professor Snape translated it, and Miss Granger agreed to assist us in casting the spell." She paused, flicking tendrils of hair out of her eyes. "Believe me, your honour, we would never have agreed were the situation not so dire."

"The Vita Reflectus charm," mused the judge. "Does that not send the effects of the curse back to the original caster?"

"Yes, your honour," said Snape, raising his head. "We were not thinking very clearly at the time; yet I believed beyond a reasonable doubt that Lucius Malfoy was responsible for the curse on Draco, and would happily have seen him dead. For my sins, I suggested that we try the Vita Reflectus."

"For those sins, I think you can be forgiven," said the judge dryly. "Go on."

Snape sighed, coughing a little. "We performed the charm. I am ashamed to say all three of us collapsed after the casting of it. When I came to, I checked young Malfoy, and found that he was alive, if hurt. I hurried up to Headmaster Dumbledore's office to inform him of what we had done, and found that he already knew most of what I was about to tell him. Professor Serenskaya, meanwhile, conveyed Miss Granger to the infirmary, and the Headmaster agreed to have young Malfoy moved there too as soon as he was stable. Professor Serenskaya and I were sent to the Malfoy estate to discover what the Vita Reflectus had done to Lucius Malfoy." He coughed dryly, muffled it behind a handkerchief. "What we found...well, I believe this court has already been apprised of."

"Mr. Lucius Malfoy had been killed by what appeared to be a simulacrum mortus curse, and his wife Narcissa Huntingdon Malfoy had been murdered. According to the evidence presented by Lucius Malfoy's wand, it had been Lucius who killed her."

"Indeed," said Snape. "Mrs. Malfoy had also been...mauled, after her death. Her throat had been torn open. There were marks on the wound that looked a great deal like those of teeth. In my own experience of Lucius Malfoy, I had seen him....bite women, several times, and..." He paused, swallowing hard, "drink their blood. We found evidence that he had in fact done this to his wife."

The judge was a trifle pale. "I see."

"We returned to Hogwarts," Severus continued. "Headmaster Dumbledore sent an owl to the Ministry explaining what had happened, and we were told we would be called up to give evidence before this court." He sat down again. Nadezhda glanced at him, looked back up at the judge.

"The Ministry," said the judge quietly, "has been apprised of Lucius Malfoy's activities, and has sent the entire Malfoy estate into receivership. The house and estate are currently being gone over with a fine-toothed comb for further evidence of Dark activity. The fortune is being held in Gringotts until it can be determined how much of it is hereditary and how much of it was ill-gotten gains from Malfoy's activities." He paused, stared at them. "Young Master Malfoy is...indisposed, still?"

"Yes, your honour," said Severus simply. "He....has been through some extremely difficult times recently, and the curse caused him to lose a great deal of blood. He is recovering, slowly. We believe he will be well enough to give testimony in another few weeks." He looked at Nadezhda. She whispered something to the counsel.

"Miss Serenskaya has further information," he said mildly. She rose.

"Your honour, after Draco came to, he suffered from extreme depression," she began. "He seemed to withdraw from the world. He had, after all, lost everything that had ever been certain for him. He refused help, and not even Headmaster Dumbledore could pull him out of it. We were all extremely worried. Not long after the events we have just described, he attempted suicide."

There was a hush. Even the more loquacious of the spectators shut up.
"However," Nadezhda continued, "Miss Hermione Granger saved his life a second time. In doing so, it became apparent that the Vita Reflectus Charm had acted as an Awakener on her, and had activated some latent wandless powers which she is still struggling to understand. I felt it was important to apprise this court of these events, since Miss Granger's new abilities may well require Ministry registration and training beyond what Hogwarts can provide." And because she needs to be helped through this by people who understand what she is. None of us can do that.

"What sort of abilities?" inquired the judge.

"Well, your honour, she performed several very complicated spells without a wand, including Expelliarmus, Curatio and Dissimulare. She had never shown any inclination toward wandless magic before the Vita Reflectus charm."

"She performed Dissimulare wandless?"

"Indeed, your honour, and she had never studied it—or Curatio—before."

"Very well," said the judge. There was a whispered conferral between him and the two counsel wizards. Nadezhda and Severus stared at one another. I wonder what the price is going to be, she thought absently. For all of us.

At length the counsels resumed their seats and the judge banged his gavel. The low sussurus of conversation in the room died away. "It is the decision of this court," said the judge, "that Nastasya Serenskaya and Severus Snape are free from guilt in the matter of Lucius Malfoy's death and that they be allowed to return to Hogwarts forthwith. Moreover, the Auror Counsel to this court has finished testing some of the Malfoy possessions, and these are to be returned to Master Malfoy. Miss Hermione Granger will be called to the Ministry for testing of her new abilities and possible registration as an Archmagus after the conclusion of this case. In the interim, we suggest that she focus on her regular studies and not attempt further wandless magic without training."

Nadezhda sighed. She had known her testimony wouldn't produce much in the way of happiness for Hermione, but she knew it would have come out at some point, and it was better—knowing the way the Ministry operated—to inform them as soon as possible in order to get some sort of training and assistance for Hermione.

The judge banged his gavel. "This court is adjourned until further notice."

The spectators filed out first. Nadezhda and Snape followed, docilely, and found each other in the great marble lobby of the Judiciary Wing. They looked at each other. Is that it? Nadezhda wondered. All that ceremony for nothing much? I feel like we've missed something.

A youngish wizard in a pinstriped cloak hurried up to them, puffing. "Serenskaya and Snape?" he gasped.

"Yes?"

"The Ministry's finished with this. Um. It's Malfoy property. Could you return it to the heir?"

Nadezhda looked down at the box in the young wizard's hands. "What is it?"

"Um," he said. "Perhaps we could call it a pet?"

She peered into the round airholes of the box. Two unblinking brown-gold eyes stared back. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "I didn't know they had a snake."

"Apparently it's a very expensive specimen, um," said the wizard, clearly desperate to get the box off his hands. "Pedigreed."

She took the box, aware of how heavy it was. "I suppose so. It's not dangerous, is it?"

"They didn't say so at the Department of Magical Creatures," said the young wizard over his shoulder as he hurried away. She looked from the box to Severus, and back.

"God," said Severus, coughing, "I need a drink."

They Apparated to Diagon Alley. All around them, the lunchtime crowd swirled and drifted in Brownian motion, multicoloured robes brilliant in the noonday light. Nadezhda felt empty and drained, despite the favourable verdict. "So that's it," she said absently, scuffing snow out of the gutter with a boot. "We're done."

"I very much doubt it," said Snape, taking the box from her. "I wonder what exactly Lucius Malfoy thought an appropriate family pet would be." He unlocked the latches, and a moment later yelped as an elegant four-foot-long python wound itself around his neck. Nadezhda gasped in horror. Snape waved a hand at her. "It's all right," he said, catching his breath. "She's not trying to kill me."

"She?" Nadezhda inquired. Severus gave her a little smile.

"I think I recognize this one," he said weakly. "Her name's Naga, or something. She was just a hatchling when I first saw her."

"At the Malfoy estate?"

"Yes. She was in a big silver cage over the mantelpiece." Snape paused, looking the snake in the eyes. "Lucius never let her out. I remember thinking how bored she must've been."

Naga hissed eloquently, and stuck her nose into Snape's left ear. Snape made an extremely expressive face.

"Now I really need a drink," he said, and led her into the Leaky Cauldron.

Some time later, they sat at a table thronged with bottles and glasses, and were feeling a great deal better. Nadezhda hadn't seen Severus laugh so uninhibitedly for months. She herself felt rather as if there could be a happy ending to all of this, somehow. As long as nothing else horrible happened, they might be able to get through the year without further angst.

Riiight, she thought. Horrible things always happen to us. Always. It's part of the job.

"It's almost Christmas," she said idly, swirling the dregs of a rather good Beaujolais in her glass. "Christ, the year has just flown by, hasn't it."

"Mmm," said Snape. "Funny that we've even had time to teach classes, what with all the drama we've experienced. No, Naga, you can't have any wine." He moved the decanter out of the snake's reach. "I'm surprised she's still around," he said mildly. "As far as I recall, You-Know-Who gave her to Lucius as a hatchling...a kind of special favour to his most faithful Death Eater....several years ago. His darling little pet Nagini had had a litter, and Naga here was the firstborn. I don't think Lucius was cut out for animal husbandry, though. He never let her out of the cage, and I'm pretty sure he didn't feed her too often. Narcissa was terrified of snakes, you see."

Nadezhda held out a finger to the python. "Hello," she said tentatively. "My name's Nadezhda."

Naga stared at her with that peculiarly piercing reptilian stare, but deigned to flicker her tongue at the proffered finger. She hissed mildly. Nadezhda looked up at Snape questioningly.

"She must like you," he said. She smiled a little.

"We should be getting back," she said. "Tests tomorrow, and everything. Got to be on top of it all."

"I know," said Severus tiredly. "It's just...rather nice here, you know. Not fraught with work and politics." He paused, looked at her, looked away. "You're right. Let's go." He coughed a little, again just that little shaking of the shoulders, the catch in each breath.

Nadezhda sighed and threw a handful of coins on the table. "Are you sober enough to Apparate?"

"Just about." They took hands, and the world around them blinked into blackness before resolving itself into the road just in front of the vast iron Hogwarts gates. Severus waved his wand at them, and they creaked slowly open. "Home again," he said. "It should be nice over the Christmas break," he added. "Peaceful, you know."

She took his free hand in hers. "I, for one, intend to take a well-deserved rest. You ought to relax, too."

"I'm fine," he protested, as they began the long walk up to the castle.

"You've still got that cough," she pointed out. "Anyway, we've all been under stress, and so on. It should do us good to have a few weeks free of classes. And Weasleys."

"Are they all going home?" asked Severus hopefully.

"Every one. Even Ginny. Arthur Weasley's taking them off to Egypt."

"What a lovely prospect," he sighed. "A month free of Weasleys."

"Exactly. Something to look forward to."

"Potter's not going home, is he?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Damn."

****

"Ha!"

"What?" asked Hermione tiredly, looking up from her Herbology text. Draco was sitting up in bed and looking gleeful.

"I've just finished the study guide Snape gave you! I know everything!"

"Well, bully for you," said Hermione. "Now you can help me study Herbology. What are the three uses of Melissa officionalis?"

"Haven't the foggiest," said Draco breezily. "Give it a rest, Hermione. We've been studying all day."

"Yes, and the tests are tomorrow, so I don't think we can stop now."

He looked at her, and as always she felt the power of his silver eyes. "What's the matter?"

She looked down at her hands. "Nothing. It's nothing. Come on. Herbology."

"Screw Herbology," he said, leaning forward and catching her hands in his. "Hermione, what is it? You've seemed...worried...all day."

"It's just....well, Snape and Professor Serenskaya were going off to see the Ministry today. About..."

"About my father," Draco said evenly. "I know."

"Well, they're also going to tell them about my newfound ability to do wandless magic. Look, Draco, you should know that most of the people in history who can do wandless spells are Dark magicians. What's going to happen to me? Everyone's going to think I've turned Dark, or I'm a freak, or something. I'm frightened."

He looked at her, steadily, then let her hands go. "Look," he said. "Of all the people in this entire school, you're the last one I'd believe to be a pawn of Dark magic. Weasley'd make a better Dark mage than you. Your new powers....well, they're going to be a pain in the arse, but they also mean you can be a much more important witch than anyone ever thought you could." He paused, sighed. "You're right about a lot of the school thinking you're a freak. However, I have to deal with the entire school thinking I'm either the worst sort of traitor or a totally evil little bastard. You're not alone, Hermione." He gave her a little smile. "We can blow them off together, you know. You and me. The Losers' Club."

She managed a grin. "Is that a promise?"

"Of course." He held out his arms, and she leaned into his embrace.

*********

"Can't sleep?"

Ron slid onto the windowsill beside Harry. The dark-haired boy was ensconced in his usual seat, curled up on a heap of cushions, staring out at the darkened lake. He turned at his friend's approach, dredged up a little smile.

"No," he said. "Must be test anxiety or something."

Ron shrugged. "We've always muddled through before, somehow. I think Dumbledore makes sure Snape won't fail you, but I haven't got that luxury. Still...you're not doing that badly in classes, are you?"

"No," sighed Harry. "Not really."

Ron made an intuitive leap. "It's Hermione you're worried about, isn't it? I mean, we haven't seen her for a month, and she hasn't been in the library studying."

"Kind of." Harry looked at his friend. "Look, Ron....I think that we need to talk to her. And to Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" repeated Ron.

"Yeah. Like I said at dinner that day, something happened to him. Something that also affected Hermione. I think we need to find out what that is, Ron."

"But he's Malfoy," said Ron.

"You're getting kind of repetitive," Harry pointed out. "Look, nobody could call me Malfoy's friend, not by a long shot. It was me he focused on, remember, and you and Hermione were targeted by association with me. I've got no particular reason to look at him with anything other than distaste. But I've got to admit that the Malfoy we knew would not have saved Ginny. Not unless there was an ulterior motive in it. And I can't think what that would be. Besides, Ron....like I said, something horrible happened to him, something that nearly killed him, which is why he's spent the past weeks in the hospital."

"Harry, don't you remember that incident with Buckbeak? Madame Pomfrey must've fixed his arm in about twenty minutes, all told. He kept those bandages on for ages. I wouldn't trust the little bastard."

You didn't see him on the night of the Ball, thought Harry morosely. "I know, but he's been in the hospital wing under Madame Pomfrey's care for a month, and she hasn't thrown him out. She's got no reason to let him malinger, Ron, and she's very good at telling people off. I don't think Malfoy would still be there if he wasn't really ill."

He sighed, looked back out over the lake. "I hope all this blows over soon," he said. Ron shrugged, slid off the windowsill.

"At least exams will be finished in a few days. Then you've got the entire break to laze about and spy on Malfoy."

"Yeah, while you go off to Egypt and have a really great time in the pyramids, and so on." Harry yawned. "Bring me back a mummy or something, won't you?"

"I don't think they'll let me. I could bring you a bit of one."

"Deal." Both boys padded back to their respective beds. There was silence for a while.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"You better spy on Malfoy. Cause I want some answers."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Harry?"

"Mmmm?"

"Which bit of the mummy would you like?"

Harry grinned into the darkness. It was impossible to stay moody and depressed with Ron around. He took so little seriously.

"The bit that hasn't got the curse in it," he called. "Go to sleep. We've got tests to fail tomorrow."