Flagstones and Fire

And so, I was told to write my story. I am. But, before I start, I have a confession to make: It wasn't only his fault. Yes, the Ministry blames him, but I know that I never listened like I should've. No one did.

It was also his fault only because when we did talk to him, he'd never take us seriously, being content to let us do the dirty work for him.

I suppose that's where the evil rooted, in his desire to do something by himself, without anyone's help.

Remember: we all make mistakes. Some bigger than others.

That really would be my only story, my lesson, moral, but they expect more. But where should I begin?

The summer of the twenty-first chapter of my life was spent in Africa. Ethiopia, to be exact. I was spending time there to help a certain tribe, the Monoques, rid of a demon, which was luring children out into the forests, and murdering them.

The Monoques called the demon 'Zaref Camog' or, in English, 'Darksome Shadow'. A mediocre name, but I didn't come up with it. I was there to vanquish it, maybe study it, until I took up residence at Hogworts as the Defense against the Dark Arts, still a popular class, although we never really needed it any more.

One night, while tossing and turning in the hut the tribe had built me, I decided that as soon as I had rid the demon, I would leave. Africa was not my home, and I longed for Britain, with its dirty streets, and polluted skies, millions of people, rushing, tearing, laughing, living.

Very soon after, of course, I defeated the demon, and, with the Monoques singing ballads about me, I took my leave. I soon as I had set foot on my country, I felt safe. It had been here for millions of years, and it would stay for millions more.

The summer was passing quickly. I returned home from Africa on the seventh of July; it seemed that the time before I had to go teach was not there. Soon, it was the twenty-fourth of August, and I received a summons from Hogworts. A new year had begun.

Once at home, there was much to do before the students came. Cleaning, locking spells, the spell that didn't allow people to Apparate on grounds had to be renewed, stuff like that. I spent much of my time figuring out the curriculum for each of the classes in each separate year, as I had vowed not to let two classes of the same year do like work, as answers could be passed.

September first. I eagerly awaited the arrival of the students, along with the Herbology teacher, whom I delighted to find out it was Neville Longbottom.

"Hermione! So glad to see you!" he said nervously to me the first day back. "What's it been, three, four years?"

"About two, but you were close enough. How was your summer, 'Professor Longbottom'?"

"Never stop teasing, do you? It was fine. Yours?"

"It was wicked. You see, I-"

"I have to work with a mudblood? This makes my day."

Neville turned white. "I forgot to mention that he got a job. Teaches Muggle Studies, and Dueling."

" 'Muggle Studies'?" I repeated. "Draco Malfoy is teaching Muggle Studies?"

"Problem with that, Granger?"

"That's Professor Granger to you, thanks very much."

"Nice comeback," Neville was almost drooling.

"Yes, Longbottom, if it were any lamer, I could've used it as a stunt dummy for Dueling."

I was incredulous. "You called that lame? Think about what you just said. If mine was lame, it was nothing compared to yours."

"I don't have the time to argue with you." Draco yawned.

"I don't think I can ever make it up to myself for even talking to you." I retorted.

"Wow..."

"Stay out of this, Longbottom," Draco said, without taking his eyes of me. "So, am I to think that you think I amount to nothing as a teacher? Well, then, for my first Dueling class, I propose a little demonstration-" his eyes glinted. "-of you against me. Satisfied?"

"You haven't beaten me yet."

"Um, guys?" Neville suggested feebly. "I wanted to ask: who is the new headmaster?"

Draco and I stopped glaring at each other. "I don't know," Draco admitted. "I haven't seen him."

"Who says it's a 'him'?" I wanted to know. "It might be a 'her'. Girl power!" At this, I jumped up and did a funky dance around Neville and Draco.

Draco coughed. Neville looked like I was belly dancing for him or something. Honestly, he should've gotten out more often.

"Anyway," Draco said. "Can we get back to staring at each other?"

"You are so perverted."

"Thanks for the complement."

Now that you have a taste of what my first days at Hogworts as a teacher was like, I must tell you about the duel that Draco and I had.

Second day back, I was sitting in my classroom grading papers from my second fifth year's class quiz (To see what they knew.), Draco burst in, trailing his class behind him.

"Quiet, please!" He instantly got it.

"Can you teach me that trick?"

Draco glared at me. "Act your age," he told me sternly.

"Only if you act yours when you lose the duel."

With a wave of his wand, Draco cleared the floor of desks. "Students, quiet. We will begin in one moment. To the side."

"Scared?" he asked me.

"You wish, loser."

We bowed, with Draco explaining. When one student asked why you had to bow, Draco sighed.

"It's about a little thing called r-e-s-p-e-c-t," he spelled out.

"That's a song," I added helpfully. "R-E-S-P-E-C-T," I sang.

"Are you alright? You never acted like that at school."

"It's a little thing called -duh- s-u-g-a-r."

"Can we get on with it!"

So, we bowed again. "Then, you raise your wands, solute, and then...begin!"

I swung my wand up and shouted, "Terminaninice!"

Draco started melting. He also shouted, "Flourata Nanue!"

I felt my hair start to be shorn away.

I got mad then and yelled, " Expelleramus," about the same time Draco shouted, "Cattaboound!"

My spell worked, as soon as his spell hit me, he dropped his wand.

Unfortunately, Draco's spell worked too.

Soon, I was meowing from the floor. Angrily. When one student tried to pick me up, I hissed, and bit her hand. She jumped back.

Draco just laughed. He stopped as soon as he saw I was back to normal.

"Sorry," Turning to his class, he said, "Class dismissed! I want a two-inch essay by Friday explaining the traditions and reasons behind the salutation during the beginning of a duel. Dis-missed!"

As they ran out, he said again, to me, "Sorry."

"Just - go - away - now," was all I managed.

He looked at me pityingly, but obliged.

When he left, I sat down in my chair, put my head on the desk, and covered my head with my arms.

"Hermione?" it was Neville. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice shaking. "What's wrong?!"

"Are- are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be? That was the most fun I've had in a long time!" I finally lifted my head, and then I couldn't stop laughing.

***

Second day back passed, as did the third the fourth, a week, a month, and two months

I finally realized something was wrong around December 18^th, when the students we allowed to go home early, because, the new headmaster (Whom we still haven't met.) decided that they had learned enough and had earned a long break.

So many students were delighted to be free that none stayed behind; except for a sixth year Ravenclaw who happened to find out her parents had died.

So the castle seemed very empty with no children rushing about, and only the other professors to talk to.

So, it was December 18^th. I had already finished grading papers, and since I had nothing else to do, I decided to go exploring. After all, you never know what you'll find.

I started off in the dungeons and worked my way up. Snape's old classroom was the same; as were the Slytherin's hallway.

So I went up to the ground floor. More rooms I hadn't seen there; with old hanging, portraits, trophies, secret passageways I was surprised that Fred and George hadn't found, chamber pots, beds, one room had a collection of animal skulls.

One room in particular stuck in my memory: it led outside, only not to the Grounds. It led to a hedge-maze of sorts.

I promised to myself that I would explore the maze another day, but I had to go back now, because it was getting late. So, I found my way to the Great Hall, where dinner was just being served.

"How was your day, Neville?"

"Oh, fine, I guess," he looked preoccupied. "I'm not quite done with my work, so I'm sorry I had to eat and run." He grabbed a sandwich, shoved it down his throat, chugged some Pumpkin Juice, and ran off, saying, "sorry Hermione!"

"Well," I said to myself. "He was certainly odd just now."

"Mind if I sit down?"

I didn't look up. "If you must."

Draco sat in Neville's empty chair. "Sorry if we kind of got off on the wrong foot...Just because I treat you differently doesn't mean I like you!"

"Glad that's cleared up," I said absentmindedly.

"You don't care?"

I was absorbed in my macaroni, but looked up at this. "Goodness, no."

"That's good," he looked relieved. "Listen, are you doing anything tonight?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Just wondering because," he thrust a finger at Neville's retreating back. "he told me to ask you."

"Oh," said I. "Is that he was so weird?"

"He was? Oh, well, he told me to ask you if you were doing anything."

"Well, you already heard my answer," Draco ignored my intentional dismissal. "What else do you need?"

"I just want you to know," Draco said, his voice icy, face are hard. "that if you do anything, and I mean anything, to mess him up more, I will hurt you."

"Mess with who? Neville?"

"Use your eyes, Hermione. He's got it bad for you. And-"

"Why so protective of him, I mean, he was a Gryfinndor and all, so-"

"I can't tell you that. But know this, if you hurt him, I will hurt you, got it?"

"Loud and clear," I said, and got up form the table. "Listen, I'm tired. Goodnight."

I made my way up to my room.

I don't think you've ever seen Hogworts empty, let alone empty at night, but it's the creepiest thing.

Ghosts appearing out of the walls: the pictures, the darkness, the delicate hum of magic underlying all other sounds, and that feeling of someone- or something- watching you.

Invisible eyes pored their strength upon me, as if seeing my every fault and pride.

Needless to say, I was quite glad when I finally arrived at my room.

I collapsed on my bed, suddenly tired beyond all reason. My last coherent thought was that of the maze I had found.

Maybe that was why I dreamed of it.

I stood in the doorway that led outside to the maze. Like in all dreams, I felt as light as a feather and as free as a bird. I took off running down a pathway.

I ran for a while. I stopped when I came to a small fountain with fish swimming in it, and the figure that stood spurting water in the middle was a faun.

The faun looked very old, and it carried an umbrella.

"Excuse me, Miss!" he said. "But could you find a Miss Lucy and give this to her?" He held out a small handkerchief.

I took it, without questioning how Mr. Tummis got into my dream.

I walked on. I think I must have dropped the handkerchief, because I backtracked where I had already walked, looking at the ground.

Which is why I ran into Inge. I recognized her at once as the old Celtic witch that was in one of my schoolbooks.

"Good morrow," she greeted me. "Have you a package for Lucy? I'll gladly give it to 'er."

"No. I'll do it myself. But thanks anyhow, Mistress!" Since Inge had a notorious temper, I thought it best to be very polite.

She seemed to like my manner, so she smiled, and swept past me, a small cloud of silver and wrought gold.

I strolled along, watching scenery. It was almost as if the ground were moving, as I was standing still! But, no, I was walking.

Suddenly, instead of being outside, I was inside an old classroom. I saw a handsome young man staring moodily at a painting, which in my opinion, behold a nasty visage and hazy countenance.

Ella burst in. "Ah!" the handsome man cried. "You mustn't look upon the aging of Dorian Gray!"

"An order!" Ella sighed, turning away. "Why is it always an order! Anyway, cook wants you downstairs." She flounced out of the room Dorian following.

Then I was inside a cool place. It was dark, and lit by only a few flickering torches.

"Peace and love are the only answers!"

The voice half scared me out of my wits. I grabbed a torch and held it high, to see better.

Three men struggled. One was dark and dressed strangely, in white, and wore his head bare and shaved.

The other two were white. One dressed in colorful fair, like a mistral, or a clown, while the other preferred black.

The clown-ish one was obviously drunk.

"Amontillado!" he was raving. The man in black was pushing him deeper into darkness while the dark one kept saying, "Peace and love are the only answers! Peace and love triumph over everything! Bless, yah, yah!"

Then I was outside again, in front of a roaring fire, except that I couldn't see well. I was covered in -straw?- and I couldn't move my arms or legs.

I saw people dancing around me, wearing homespun dresses.

What was that old tale, that every Midsummer, people would burn a witch to insure a good year? Good god...

I was suddenly picked up roughly and thrown into the bonfire.

Then- only pain, licking, burning pain. Ever.

And the people were still dancing.

And I was still burning. Hands shook me awake as I felt the cold blow of water wash over me.

I started to cough, for smoke was billowing out from somewhere, though I couldn't see for my eyes were beaded shut with ash.

"W- what happened?" I managed to gasp out between breaths.

"Fire," came the short, cold reply. I tried to sit up, to ease the pain of breathing, and pain shot up my arms. My whole right arm seemed encased in burning.

"Ow," I gasped. I reached up with my other, my left, arm, to wipe the dust and soot away.

My bedchamber was in ruins. My bureau was still smoldering softly in the corner. My bed was half crumbling. The drapes were on the blackened ground somewhere.

But that wasn't what bothered me. The dream fit in perfectly with the fire!

I looked to see my rescuer, and was surprised to see Malfoy. "What happened?" I asked again, although this time I meant it differently.

"Look, my room is on the other side of the wall. I came because I thought you were smoking, and I didn't think you would be." Malfoy looked flustered, a first for him, so I left it at that.

Ah, well, everyone makes mistakes.

"Who started it? Do you know?"

Draco looked at the ground. "No."

I leaned back against my pillows as I inspected the burn on my arm.. I groped around for my wand. I found a few stubs of wood and a sharp, pointy thing that was all that was left of my wand.

"Damn it..." I muttered. I brushed away some ashes, and got out if my bed. "Damn it..." I said again, because my nightgown, also burned, was flaking off, leaving my white under garments.

"Um..." Draco turned around, handing me his cloak. "This doesn't mean I like you," he warned as I put it on gratefully.

"Silly prat," I said. "Who would like you? Unless, of course, they were under a sp-"

"Enough. Here." He transfigured the burned bed into a couch. "Look, it's only three o' clock. Go to sleep." He turned to leave.

"Draco?" I called.

He stopped. "Yeah?"

"Thanks." He said nothing to this, and only disappeared from the room. I sat with a sigh. But I was thirsty, so I got up and went to the tiny bathroom connected to my bedroom. I got a glass of water.

I walked back to the couch. I didn't even have time to scream as the half-burned floor sagged and gave way underneath me, plunging and falling, as I could only watch as the tiny rays of light slowly backed away from the darkness that surrounded me.