My Soul Mate

Chapter Two - The Search Begins...

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There was chaos among the teachers too. Professor Flitwick looked extremely shaken and was speaking in an extremely shrill voice. Professors Vector and Sprout were sobbing quietly. Professor Moody was swearing loudly and made Flitwick even more nervous than ever causing him to start stammering like Quirell. Clearly, everyone was worried about Hermione's fate.

But when Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape strode in, silence fell like a rune in the Staff Room.

The three professors took seats on the staff table. Immediately, Dumbledore started speaking.

"I am aware that whatever happened is extremely regrettable," he said. "Miss Granger had the worst luck, but we do not have time to mourn. Draco Malfoy, no doubt, is a Death Eater. I know for a fact that Malfoy has negotiations with Death Eater Peter Pettigrew." He stopped as many teachers (except for McGonagall and Snape, of course) raised their eyebrows.

Therewith, he continued, "But that holds no importance. We have a lot to do. First, Professor McGonagall, I want you to inform Cornelius Fudge. The Defense Department must be made alert. I am sure this has something to do with Voldemort." Everybody flinched, but Dumbledore went on, "Then, I want you to contact the Daily Prophet; we shall reward anyone who spots Miss Granger or Draco Malfoy a sum of five hundred galleons. Do that straightaway, Minerva, we have no time to waste."

McGonagall nodded and left.

Dumbledore now turned to the others. "Alastor," he told Moody, "I want you to fetch Sirius Black and set up a missionary to find Miss Granger. Now."

"Severus, since Alastor won't be here," continued Dumbledore, "I would like you to fetch Remus Lupin to fill up his place."

Snape's face stiffened.

"And don't listen to his protests, Severus," added Dumbledore.

Snape nodded.

"As for the rest of you," concluded Dumbledore, "the school's fate is in your hands. I might be absent frequently from now on. I want you to take the charge of the school's management. Right now, I want you all to visit the houses and calm the students down. Is that understood?"

There was a murmur of assent from the other teachers.

"I must find Harry Potter," said Dumbledore, more to himself.

He had just turned to leave when Snape spoke. "Is this it, Dumbledore?" he said, "The war's started, has it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That's the essence of it," he said.

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Sobbing hard still, Hermione rushed to the bedroom and slumped to the bed lifelessly. Conflicts, sorrows, and worries clouded her mind. Her heart felt as if it were caged, and her brain, fogged. She couldn't think of doing anything, because she knew there was nothing to be done.

But suddenly, Hermione stopped crying ... she wondered if she could really do nothing.

She felt for the pocket of her robes and to her great delight, she found that her wand was still with her! She had her wand with her!

She could run away and Draco would never know. She would run away and find a nearest town and with the help of the people, she could go back to Britain.

That sounded brilliant!

Hermione smiled for the first time since she had regained consciousness. She got up, washed her face in the bathroom, and came out of the bedroom. She walked across the dining to room to the exit door. She turned the knob but it wouldn't open - the door was locked. Nevertheless, Hermione pointed her wand at the door's knob and said, "Alohomora!"

Immediately, the door flew open. Hermione looked at the greenery that surrounded the dwelling. It looked as if it had just been raining. Hermione smiled broadly. Herein lies redemption, she thought as she stepped onto the first stair.

The stair creaked and Hermione stopped in her tracks. After a moment, she cautiously lay her foot on the next stair.

Gradually, she climbed down. She was on the last rickety stair and then she put her right foot on the ground below.

Nothing could have prepared her for this. A very sharp pain shot through her foot and right to her knee. She screamed and backed away. She was breathing hard and after some moments, Hermione sat down on the stair and examined her foot. It was still hurting badly. She pulled the right shoe and sock out of her leg and rubbed the area vigorously. She didn't understand what happened. Why did her leg suddenly feel as if it were treading on red-hot coal?

It was lucky that she didn't try absconding anymore, since she was clearly unaware of the spell Draco had used. But the damage was done. She couldn't move her leg and when she tried to, it hurt even more. Her eyes had started to water and it was becoming difficult to focus on her leg. Involuntarily, tears streamed down her face. She swore inwardly.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" drawled a voice nearby.

Hermione started and as a result, hit her marred foot on the stair. She cried out in pain.

Draco, who was walking towards the house, saw Hermione sitting there, her back to him. And when he spoke, he saw her jump and shriek.

Curiously, he came closer to have a better look.

And at once he knew what had happened.

"Oh dear," he said in mock concern, "I did warn you to not to go out."

Hermione glared at him furiously, tears rolling down still.

"What did you do, Malfoy?" she asked, enraged.

"Placed a curse on you," he said in a tone that suggested one and one made two. "You wouldn't be able to leave the house, baby," he ended sarcastically.

If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have been a dead man by now; Hermione was glaring so hard. "I am impressed!" she snapped at him.

"Thank you," said Draco with a slight bow.

Hermione had to count to ten to keep her cool. God, he was so frustrating! Gingerly, she tried to move her foot, but she failed and cried out again in agony.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" said Draco quietly. His sardonic exterior had vanished; he had felt that same anguish so many times before.

"'Course it does," said Hermione in a choked voice.

"You should've known better than to disobey me, Granger," said Draco in a matter-of-factly tone.

Hermione desperately tried to choke back a sob.

"Come on now, Granger," said Draco, "no point in sitting here all day."

Hermione narrowed her red eyes at him. "I don't find sitting here and talking to you amusing, Malfoy!" she snapped angrily. "If I could, I would have moved."

"Nor do I."

"Good, are you done?"

"Yes I am, are you?"

"Sure."

Hermione made to stand, in which she, thank heavens, succeeded. But she did not manage to maintain her balance and consequently, she fell ... on Draco.

Draco immediately grabbed her waist and steadied her. Hermione's hair cascaded down all over his face and for the first time, Draco felt how silky it was and how sweet it smelted. He felt Hermione's hands over his and he inhaled deeply. Eventually, he tightened his grasp on her waist noticeably.

Hermione felt herself landing on a broad and hard surface - Draco's chest. Hermione's head fell back on his shoulder blade and she took in his cologne. She had never smelled anything spicier than this ... she breathed deeply and her hands clasped fortuitously over Draco's. And then, she felt Draco's grip on her waist tighten hard. She inhaled sharply and jerked awake from her reverie. She didn't have the effrontery to look at Draco in his face. She muttered an incoherent atonement and released herself from Draco's grasp.

Draco felt Hermione move away. He blinked. For a moment he had forgotten what had happened, and when he recollected, instead of blushing, he paled. He cursed himself for what happened. He started it - it was his fault. Draco swore mentally.

He noticed Hermione try and walk, in which she failed.

"Oh well, Granger," drawled Draco.

Hermione spun around slowly.

"What?" she asked, a bit irked.

"Considering that you can't walk five paces successfully on your own," sniggered Draco, "I think I will have to help you with that." He pointed at Hermione's marred leg.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to stop him, even though she didn't like Draco's tone of offering some help. She let him support her weight all the way to the wooden sofa in the dining room, while blushing furiously.

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Harry forked his sausages half-heartedly on the Gryffindor table. Next to him was Ron, who was absent-mindedly mutilating his. Ginny on the other hand, ate quietly. Harry pushed his plate away. He didn't feel like eating.

Ginny looked inquiringly at him. "Have something," she told him softly.

Harry shook his head and exhaled deeply. "I miss Hermione," he told her for what seemed to be the fiftieth time.

"There's no point in starving yourself, Harry," said Ginny firmly.

"I don't blame him," said Ron, pushing his food away too.

Ginny shook her head in an aggravated manner and went back to her sausage.

Harry was staring at some point on the Gryffindor flags in the Hall, lost in thought, when Hedwig soared down to his seat. She had a roll of parchment tied to her leg.

Harry tenebrously detached the letter from Hedwig and shooed her without any snacks. Hedwig hooted indignantly and took flight.

Harry's eyes skimmed the letter mutely before he passed it to Ron, whose face grew worried immediately.

Dear Harry and Ron,

I know that you are both deeply affected by the unfortunate happenings of this morning, but it is time we took action against Draco Malfoy rather than sitting and mourning.

Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, no doubt. I believe that the assassination is somehow connected with Voldemort and this is rather a distraught affair. As for kidnapping Hermione, I think she's merely bait. So rest assured, Hermione will surely be all right, wherever she is.

In any case, I want both you to come up to my office. We need to discuss something. Password is Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

Dumbledore.

And thus, Harry and Ron left a disgruntled Ginny behind, and headed for Dumbledore's office.

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Draco laid Hermione on the wooden davenport and took a seat on the dining table himself. He waved his wand gracefully and an elaborate lunch appeared on the table. Plates of fat, juicy pork sausages and macaroni with white sauce. Buttered fried peas and a continental salad.

Hermione concluded that Draco had a very good choice of food. She watched him pile his plate with liberal amounts of everything. She looked at him zealously. Memories of the noon flooded her mind. His cologne and his hands ... Hermione decided that she rather liked those things about him. But the thing that amazed her most was how polite he seemed ... helping her out with her injured foot. It was almost like he was a different person, not the Draco Malfoy she knew. He was without malice and causticity. And that was saying something ... Draco Malfoy cordial towards a Muggle-born! Hermione thought that perhaps she had glimpsed the real him, the person behind the mask that was filled with malevolence to everybody else in the world. Then again, maybe he was just overwrought with guilt. Either way, Hermione came to the conclusion that if she had to live with a Draco Malfoy like this, it might not be too bad.

But as soon as she had, she slapped herself mentally. She couldn't believe it ... she was actually thinking benevolent things about Draco Malfoy! The Draco Malfoy that had tried to make her and her friends' lives miserable for the past five years! The Draco Malfoy who has kidnapped her! The Draco Malfoy who killed Hagrid! The Draco Malfoy who is a Death Eater!

"Did you have any breakfast?" asked Draco, when he saw her staring at something, though her eyes were out of focus.

Hermione jerked awake from her brown study.

"Huh?" she said.

"I asked," said Draco casually, "did you have any breakfast?"

"No," said Hermione, rather rudely.

Draco looked a bit taken aback at Hermione's sudden harsh demeanor. Yet, he asked, "Are you hungry? I've got some really good food here..."

Hermione glared at him. "You know Malfoy," she said cynically, "I can do magic too."

Draco narrowed his eyes. He felt insulted. He was trying to be polite, but if this was what he got in return...

"Oh yeah," he said venomously. "I forget that frequently, Mudblood."

Hermione felt a bit hurt. So the true Draco Malfoy is back, she thought spitefully. This confirmed her that the 'glimpsing of the person behind the mask' was just a figment of her imagination.

"Then you had better remember from now on, you bastard," she told him harshly. "You know, I am armed too ... and I know an awful lot of curses."

Draco looked at her blankly for a second and then laughed! He laughed coldly and loudly. "You ... you think you can harm me with a wand! Me? Me! Good joke, Granger!" His voice reverberated of the walls.

Hermione was agitated by his words. Without a second thought, she pulled her wand out and cried, "Stupefy!"

But unfortunately, Draco was too quick for her. He grabbed a plate and shielded himself from the scarlet light. The jinx rebounded and went off out through an open window. And then, as fast as lightning, Draco took his wand out and uttered, "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew out of her hand in arch and landed on the dining table. Draco picked the wand up and pocketed it. Then he turned to Hermione. He got up and with a few graceful strides, he neared her on the couch. His grey eyes had darkened and every pore of his body seemed to radiate Dark power. His jaws were clenched and he was breathing heavily. Hermione was absolutely petrified with apprehension.

Draco bent to his knees so that he was eye level with Hermione. He looked at her amber eyes directly. All of a sudden, he grabbed her wrists callously. "Was that the best you could do, Granger?" he hissed at her. Hermione cowered at his conduct. "Was that the best you could do, Granger?" he repeated. "That was pathetic. You know no curses - you know mere hexes and jinxes. I know curses. My father and Voldemort, both of them have trained me with Dark Curses. You want to know what real curses are, Granger?" He pulled her towards him, so that they merely inches apart. "I happen to be very good in the Dark Magic, as you have seen when you tried to escape. I could use the Cruciatus Curse on you or worse, the Killing Curse. Or even worse, use the Imperius Curse and make you strip in front of me," he added viciously and Hermione gasped in horror. "I am no kid, Granger. Do - not - play - with - me. Got that?"

Hermione nodded swiftly.

"Good," said Draco and let go of her. He pulled out Hermione's wand from his pocket and threw it at her face. "You can have that," he said nonchalantly. "Though you can hardly use it."

With those words he got up and took his luncheon from the table and walked out towards the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

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"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum." said Ron dolorously to the gargoyle that veiled the secret entrance to Dumbledore's office.

As usual the legerdemain escalator up, and he and Harry stepped on it. It took them up to Dumbledore's office. On reaching the door with the Griffin knob, Harry rapped his knuckles on it.

"Come in," said a heavy voice.

Harry opened the door and stepped in with Ron. Dumbledore was sitting on his desk, halfway through writing something on a piece of parchment.

"Good afternoon, boys," said Dumbledore as he indicated them to take seats.

"Good afternoon, Sir," they chorused dolefully as they sat themselves on the plush chairs.

"It is time," said Dumbledore, "to take action. You know Harry, don't you, about the prophecy that Sybill Trelawney had made?"

Harry nodded. Ron didn't look surprised by this; Harry had already told him and Hermione about the augury during summer holidays.

"And you remember what it said?"

"Yes, Professor."

"So you must be aware that either you, or Lord Voldemort, only one can tread on this earth?"

"Yes, Professor."

"And do you know why you are here?"

"No, Professor."

"You are here to start your training on dueling against Voldemort," said Dumbledore bluntly.

Harry stared at him. "I-I don-don't th-think I h-heard y-ou, s-sir," he stammered, completely taken aback at the Headmaster's words.

"You are here to start your training on dueling against Voldemort," repeated Dumbledore.

"What!"

"Yes, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Both of you can't walk together on this Earth for long. And unless I am gravely mistaken, Voldemort must have started plotting against you, should he have finished with the other devoir."

"What other devoir?" asked Harry curiously.

But Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to tell Harry about Manumission from Servitude.

"Unfettering his followers from Azkaban," Dumbledore lied.

"Oh."

"Then meet me tomorrow morning at six by the lake, will you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"Of course I will, Sir," replied Harry, who was still shaken at the sudden news.

"And Ron," said Dumbledore, "Professor Moody and Sirius Black are setting out to find Hermione and Malfoy. I thought you would like to join them."

Ron's face lit up at once. "Surely, Professor," he said effervescently. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow, after breakfast." replied Dumbledore.

"I'll be ready,"

"Thank you," said Dumbledore.

Harry and Ron nodded and left the office, Harry looking tenser than ever, while Ron, a bit glad.

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Hermione's breath was ragged and unsteady after her encounter with her abductor. She clutched her chest and rocked forward and backward continuously. She had to agree - Draco did scare the shit out of her. She recoiled slightly when she remembered the way his bluish-grey eyes darkened and his face hardened. From a sixteen-year-old boy, frightening, callous man. Hermione shuddered when she recalled his threat - she would rather prefer being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse and be killed by the Avada Kedavra Curse than to strip in front of him under the Imperius Curse. Her pulse rate quickened by the very thought of it.

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. So she was right. The 'glimpse of the person behind the mask' was a figment after all. All that had happened during the noon was nothing ... it meant nothing. But then, why did he help her? Help someone to whom he referred to as dirty blood, Mudblood? Why did he?

The faint hope that Hermione held that her life with him wouldn't be that bad was completely lost. The fleeting generosity that Draco showed was lost. The person behind the mask was lost.

Involuntarily, a single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek, as Hermione was lost in thought and gradually, fell asleep.

A hand, as pale as a sheet with long, spidery fingers, clutched the evening mail of the Daily Prophet. The proprietor was turning the pages when a certain advertisement caught his scarlet eyes.

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ATTENTION: A sixteen-year-old boy by the name of Draco Malfoy (son of the late Lucius Malfoy) is believed to have assassinated someone. However, the victim is unknown.

Draco Malfoy, a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin, was caught this morning. But unfortunately, before the teachers could take action, he fled; but not before kidnapping a fellow student, a sixteen-year-old Gryffindor, Hermione Anne Granger, a Muggle-born witch.

DESCRIPTION: Draco Malfoy has bluish-grey eyes and silver blonde hair. Muscular personality of about six feet. Hermione Granger has long, wavy brownish-red hair and hawk-like eyes. Slim form of about five feet six inches. Both of them were last seen wearing black cotton robes and white shirts within grey sweaters bearing the Hogwarts crest.

If there are spotted, please write to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts to inform him and claim a reward of five hundred galleons.

"I see," hissed a voice. "But whom did he kill?"

But Lord Voldemort did not know the trembling figure that stood next to him, knew everything.

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Draco slammed the door behind him. Hardly had he ever felt this angry in his life. He vanished his meal with a Vanishing Charm and then slumped onto the bed. A vein in his temple was throbbing violently.

He put a strong hand on his forehead and his face looked strained. Memories of noon rushed in his mind. The way Hermione's reddish brown hair cascaded over his face. The soft, silky feel of it and the smell of lilac...

Draco felt inebriated. For some time, he thought that he had rather underestimated Hermione. It had never mattered to him that she Muggle-born. That mattered to his father, but ever since the old doddery fool died, Draco did as he wished. He only cared to carry out his father's last wish because he saw that it had a point. The only reason he despised Hermione was that she was a Gryffindor and Harry's best friend. Other than that, he had never held any umbrage against her.

And this very noon, he felt as though he saw her for the first time. For the first time he recognized her as a human, who was not a Gryffindor, but a girl, who was not one of Harry Potter's best friend, but his host.

But then, all of a sudden, she behaved as she had for the last five years. Draco felt a bit dejected - not that there was any significant reason, but for the first time, he had felt something pleasant that afternoon. He thought that there was a beautiful woman behind the know-it-all mask that Hermione showed to everybody. He tried to be affable but she turned away from him. Even for the last five years, he thought that she was a goody-two-shoe, but now he thought she had, more or less, an inkling of Slytherin attitude in her persona.

He exhaled out in lassitude. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt hurt.