Bleeding Roses

Chapter 2

A Detention and A Visit

Even though Herbology was cancelled, Double Potions certainly wasn't, much to the Gryffindors' disgust. Traditionally, the class was shared with the nasty Slytherins. Hermione arrived first outside of the door, waiting for Harry, Snape, and the rest of the class. Not to her surprise, Harry arrived with someone less welcome. Ron. She stared determinedly at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with Ron. The truth was, if she looked at Ron, she would cry again. The Slytherins were already arriving. There was no way she would ever let them see her cry.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said more cheerfully that he had planned, which sounded oddly fake.

"Well hello Harry," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Snape had arrived. He opened the door and Hermione rushed in, before Harry and Ron. She took her usual seat, took out her book, quill, and parchment paper. Harry came in first, sitting next to her. Ron sat on the other side of Harry and Hermione was very grateful that he did so. She wouldn't be able to bear having to sit next to Ron. Harry was making very forced conversation. Both answered normally, but refused to look at each other, let alone talk.

"Settle down," Snape barked at the class and the class became dead silent. "Today, we're going to make a very complicated potion that I have reasonable doubt that some of you will fail miserably." He glanced at Neville, who squirmed. "It is the Draught of the Living Dead. It is not to be confused with the Draught of Living Death. This is a very dangerous potion that should not be meddled with. It is a potion that can revive the Dead. If you are not careful and don't follow my directions, you will face consequences worse than that of expulsion." With a wave of his wand, Snape had directions on the chalkboard. No one, not even Hermione, had seen so complicated a potion. "You must follow the directions exactly as it says or you will either kill a living thing, or worse, you will reverse the Dead with the Living and vice versa. Some of you dunderheads might be wondering why I am making you concoct a potion that revives the Dead. If you work for the Ministry, sometimes, you must revive some of the Dead to interrogate them. However, the Dead can only stay alive for one hour and they cannot be revived again once they had taken the draught. So time is precious."

"We're reviving the Dead?" Harry asked in a low whisper to Hermione. "Isn't this necromancy? The worst Dark Magic there is?"

"It is," Hermione said. "What is Snape playing at?"

"We're learning Dark Magic here!" Harry said.

"Maybe it's because this is a N.E.W.T. class..." Hermione said. "Maybe we need to know some things like this."

"Why are you defending Snape?" Harry asked. "I mean maybe it can be useful, but we can't--"

Harry never got to finish his sentence because Snape had strolled over, his face contorted into a nasty and triumphant smirk.

"My, my," he said, his smirk widening. "Talking in class, are we? Fifty points from Gryffindor. Maybe you need a change of seats too..."

"What?" Harry shouted indignantly. "Fifty? Fifty? And a change of seats? Are you mad?"

Snape's smirk faded. "Detention Potter," he said in a very nasty voice. "Tomorrow five o'clock sharp."

Harry opened his mouth as if to shout more, but nothing came out.

"You can't do that!" Ron shouted.

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Weasley," Snape said, shooting Ron a dark look. "Now, why don't you, Ms. Granger, switch seats with Ms. Parkinson?"

Hermione looked where Pansy Parkinson was sitting and her jaw dropped. It was right next to Malfoy! Draco looked over and saw that he had to sit next to Hermione; he shot her a very dirty look. Pansy didn't look happy at all either. It was common knowledge that she had a huge crush on Draco. However, they didn't have a choice besides changing seats.

Hermione picked up her book, parchment, and quill and thrust them into her backpack angrily. One of these days... she thought, justice will be done to Snape. Pansy was already waiting for her, looking very annoyed. She picked up her backpack and swung it behind her, kicking her cauldron toward Pansy's old seat. She threw her backpack on the floor and sat as far from Draco as possible, who inched away. She glanced back at Harry and he gave her a sympathetic look. Facing forward, she ignored the repulsive looks Draco gave her.

"I can't believe I'm to sit next to a Mudblood for the rest of the school year!" Draco whispered to her threateningly.

"You're saying it like I wanted to sit here!" Hermione whispered back.

"Of all people! A Mudblood!" he said exasperatedly.

"Well I'm sorry I can't choose who I am!" she snapped. "Deal with it!"

"Miss Granger," Snape said, "I did not reassign your seat for you to talk to Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione opened her mouth indignantly, but decided it wasn't worth it. Gryffindor had already lost sixty points in five minutes. However, she couldn't help but notice Draco's smirk. She shot him the darkest look she could muster. Instead of erasing that smirk from Draco's face, Draco's face split into a wide grin, and he shook with silent laughter.

Hermione looked around on her desk and her eyes landed on her quill. She picked it up. A small smile playing at the corners of her lips, she eyed her quill as a sudden idea immerged. She jammed the tip of her quill into the back of Draco's hand. Draco stopped laughing at once and let out a rather high-pitched shriek. Hermione watched satisfactorily as bright red blood ran down his hand and his fingers to drop on his lap. However, her joy was soon to be ended. Snape looked livid.

"Detention Ms. Granger!" he barked and a few people jumped. "Tonight--eight--o'clock--my--office..." he seemed to be forcing his words out through gritted teeth. "And you Mr. Malfoy!" Draco looked up from bandaging his wound using his tie. "Why did you let her do that to you? Detention! Same time, same place!"

Draco's jaw dropped. He had always thought that he was Snape's favorite student! How could Snape give him a detention? And for something so stupid? Before he could say anything, Snape had already turned away. For the rest of the class, the Head Boy and Girl ignored each other, silently brewing their potion like nothing had happened, though their faces were bright red.

*****

In the Great Hall, Hermione ate her dinner slowly and quietly, almost calmly, but Harry could see that her hands shook. She was halfway through her baked potato when she threw her fork down with a loud CLANK. She rose and muttered something about going to take a nap before disappearing through the double doors.

Harry glanced at Ron, who seemed suddenly absorbed by the few peas on his plate and didn't look up. Ron's ears were red though. Harry sighed. He got up and ran to catch up with Hermione. When he called out her name, she only picked up her pace and ignored him. Eventually, they were running, one after the other. Hermione got to her Head common room, said the password, and got in, slamming the door in Harry's face. Harry sighed again. He shouted a bit more, but there was no response besides the noise of a glass shattering. Harry took this as his cue to leave before getting his skull cracked open, and he went back to the Great Hall, to finish his dinner.

Hermione buried her head in a pillow on the couch. She felt like crying, but no tears came out. She didn't know why she felt so angry with Harry, since he didn't do anything to her, but she wasn't thinking clearly. The reasoning part of her brain seemed to be clouded and blurred. She turned over and stared at the blindingly white ceiling. Snape was so unfair! Malfoy was such a spoiled little git! Now, she even has to serve detention with him! Ron... oh, how she'd like to put her hands around his neck and strangle him! He's the one who made her so miserable! If he hadn't broken up with her, she'd still be happy, and detention-free. She groaned in frustration. How bad can the day get? Oh A LOT worse, knowing Snape, her conscience told her. What time is it? Somewhere in the back of her brain, she wondered vaguely. Oh who cares? She thought, but nevertheless, she checked the grandfather clock up against the wall. It was five minutes to eight. She sighed and stood up. Better go serve her detention now.

When she arrived at Snape's dungeon, where his office also was, Draco was already sitting in a chair, his chin resting on his hands. Snape was pacing around in his office, glancing at the clock on the wall. Hermione sat in a chair farthest from Draco and waited for Snape.

"Now that you are all here,"--he shot a dark look at Hermione--"you can start your detention. For this task, I will need you two to cooperate. You are to go to the library and research the antidote for the Sleeping Death Curse and make it. You should return the potion to me in a month from now. It better be correct, because I will be testing it on you," he added nastily.

Neither Hermione, nor Draco uttered a word as they walked to the library. But why did Snape want an antidote for the Sleeping Death Curse? Hermione knew that the Curse puts people to such a deep sleep that they cannot be awoken. Some of these "sleepers" were mistaken for dead and buried. They can never be awoken unless they drank this antidote. But very few people knew how to make them. Hermione didn't even know what the antidote required. Well, that was what research was for. They had a month. It was enough time to brew a potion! Well, at least, she hoped.

Arrived at the library, they chose a table at the shadowy corners, afraid to be seen with each other. Hermione took out her quill and parchment, and saw Draco do the same. Still not speaking, they walked over to the shelves. Hermione arrived at the Curses section and ran her finger down the spines of the thick volumes. After a while, she finally found a large book that she thought might be useful. Sleeping Curses by Pyanor Orgden... She pulled the book from the shelf and walked on, looking for more books. She stopped near a book, Death and Sleep (The Difference and the Spells) by Seymour Jancks. The two books were already heavy in her arms, and she decided to set them down and start her research. She propped open Death and Sleep on the desk, and began taking notes, as Draco settled down at the table.

Sleep and Death are sometimes confounded, she wrote, especially when the Sleeping Curse is a very strong one. The Sleeping Death Curse is a curse developed by Willard Wendall who took advantage of the confusion of Sleep and Death. This Curse makes the victim plunge into a deep sleep, never to be awoken again, unless given the antidote.

Then the book went on about an entirely different spell. Well this is useless now, she thought. Putting the book aside, she went through the index of the second book. Not finding what she was looking for, she set the book aside. Then, Draco let out a small cry.

"What?" Hermione asked. "Did you find anything?"

"Thanks to me," he said, "we can already start with the potion!" He smirked at her smugly. Hermione had the urge to smack him across his face as hard as she could, but restrained herself from doing so.

Draco turned the book toward her. There it was: the whole list of ingredients and exactly how to brew to antidote! Hermione looked at Draco, who was still smirking.

"How did you find this?" she asked.

"You are not the only one who frequents the library, you know," he answered, his grin unwavering. "How else could I have become Head Boy?"

"I call it luck and bribery," Hermione said coldly.

"Call it whatever you want Granger, but I call it pure genius," he said.

"That's so modest of you!" she said sarcastically.

"I know." Draco grinned wider.

Hermione rolled her eyes and began copying from the book. She was worried. She wouldn't be able to find many of the ingredients even from Snape's personal store, let alone the student cupboard! And the directions were clear, yes, but they would have to be extremely careful and take everything slowly. She pointed out the ingredients that were difficult to obtain to Draco, but he seemed rather unconcerned.

"There are some we can get at Diagon Alley," he said. "And others, I'm sure we will be able to get it from the Forbidden Forest." The corner of his mouth twitched at the mention of the Forbidden Forest, but Hermione pretended not to notice.

"Are we allowed to go to Diagon Alley though?" she asked.

"This is schoolwork so I can't see why not," he said.

"Do we need to report back to Snape?" she asked, packing her things.

"He didn't say we had, did he?" Draco replied.

"No, I guess not," she sighed. "Let's go."

They both left the library and headed toward their Head quarters. The moment she entered, she saw a large plate of food on the table. Curious, she walked over and saw the note that lay by it. It said:

Hermione,

You didn't eat much at dinner today, so I just thought you might be hungry. Against her will, her stomach growled. I told Dobby to deliver it to you and I hope he did. Enjoy the food!

Harry

Hermione couldn't help but smile at Harry's thoughtfulness. She picked up the fork beside the large porcelain plate, and carried the plate of food to the table by the fireplace. She sat down on a comfortable red armchair and dug in. She ate so fast that she barely tasted the food in her mouth. When she finished, she took a large book from the couch beside her--she had left it there the previous night--and started to read.

Draco dug into his backpack and took out his textbook and a long roll of parchment. He also retrieved his quill and inkbottle from his backpack. Reading a passage from the book, he started to write his History of Magic essay.

They both worked in silence for the next two hours, completely ignoring each other. They were used to this. Since none of them were really talkative, this suited them both fine. Between them, there was nothing to say anyway. At around eleven o'clock, Draco stretched and yawned. Putting his things back into his backpack, he walked lazily to the bathroom he shared with Hermione.

The first thing that came into his view was a large mirror that stood over two sinks. He stared at the reflection he knew so well. The first thing he noticed was that he looked really tired. I should really go to sleep now, he thought, or I would look like Frankenstein's creature tomorrow morning. He yawned again. There wasn't as much gel in his platinum blond hair by this time and a few locks fell over his gray eyes, making him look, well... quite nice. His thin, rosy lips stretched slightly into a half-smile. His look made him have so many girls chasing after him, but he wasn't exactly sure he liked the feeling of never being able to breathe some fresh air, nor... have any real friends who liked him for him. He sighed.

Draco picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Then, he took a quick shower. After drying himself with his black towel, he put on his silk boxers and a T-shirt. He almost screamed when he saw Hermione waiting for him outside the door, looking very impatient.

"Glad that you finally decided to stop admiring yourself in the mirror," she said coldly. "What do you see in yourself anyway?"

"Oh many things," he said, smirking. "Devilish handsomeness, great intellect, great--"

Hermione interrupted him. "That was a rhetorical question," she said.

"But I thought it would do you some good to know," he said.

"Yeah right," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

"I'm still available... well, for now anyway," he said.

"Like I would ever want to be with you," she said. "But did you count your little girlfriend, Parkinson?"

He stopped smirking. "What about your boyfriend, the Weasel-King?"

Hermione felt her eyes stinging and turned her face away from him. "I already told you. We broke up."

"Right," he said and left. He felt satisfied that he touched the spot where it hurt the most, but somewhere in his heart, he felt sorry for her and he cursed himself for making her so miserable when she already was. He pushed the latter as far from him as possible. He wasn't about to feel guilty because of a little thing like that.

He lifted the smooth, comfortable covers from his bed and slid under them, feeling the cold sheets below. He shivered ever so slightly, but soon, he felt comfortable. Several minutes later, he could already feel himself drifting into unconsciousness, but a hiccup from the room on the other side of the Head quarters made him fully awake again. Cursing, he opened his eyes and stared at the clock. It was twelve fifteen. Falling back on his bed, he tried to sleep once again, but found that he couldn't. Someone was crying in the other room. Hermione.

"Damn you Granger!" he whispered. "Some people are actually trying to sleep here!"

He got up and walked over to the Head Girl's room to see what was going on. The door was left ajar so he pushed it fully open. Hermione was in her nightgown, her face hidden in the pillow. Her bushy hair was a mess and she was gripping onto the pillow like her life depended on it. She was crying and hiccupping at the same time. Draco couldn't help but feel sorry for her this time. Even if he was feeling anything else, the pity was drowning all of the other emotions.

"Granger," he said.

"GO AWAY MALFOY!" she yelled. "EVERYTHING'S ALL YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU!"

"How is it my fault?" He was starting to feel a little indignant.

"YOU ARE AN INCONSIDERATE PRAT! YOU CARE ABOUT NO ONE BUT YOURSELF!" Hermione yelled. "YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHY I WAS HURT AND WHERE IT HURT THE MOST, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO SAY IT, DIDN'T YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU WILL NEVER LET AN OPPORTUNITY TO THROW AN INSULT AT ME PASS YOU BY! YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ANYTHING OR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO AND MARRY YOURSELF?"

This hit him harder than he expected. Although he didn't want to admit it, he knew that it was the truth. His conscience made sure that he wouldn't be thinking otherwise.

"Look Granger," he said, "I... I... didn't... mean it."

Silence. Even her crying seemed to have softened.

He swallowed and continued, "I was just... trying to get... get back at you for... for saying that I... I liked Pansy... I'm... I'm... I'm..." He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

Hermione sat up and faced him. He walked over to her bed, but it was rather difficult since his legs seemed to be unable to work properly. He propped himself on the bed. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth...

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out.

There was a pause. Hermione just stared, but Draco wished that she wouldn't. It made him feel even more awkward than he already was. He just wasn't taught to apologize to "Mudbloods". That was a true psychological battle that he had just fought, but Hermione didn't even say anything to show that she heard him, let alone be grateful!

Suddenly, Hermione's head fell on Draco's shoulders and she started sobbing again. Draco, not used to this kind of things, reached out a shaking hand and patted her on the back, not knowing what he should do. For a few minutes, they remained that way, taken to a world where thinking was optional.

When Hermione finally stopped crying and lifted her head up, her eyes caught Draco's and she couldn't tear them away from his silvery orbs. She wanted to say something, but she didn't need to. Their eyes said everything instead. She was grateful that he had lent her a shoulder to cry on (literally), even though she wasn't sure whether it was intentional or he just simply didn't have a choice.

"Thanks..." Hermione muttered. "Thanks for being here for me."

"Well, don't get used to it," he said rather coldly.

He stood up and left the room, leaving Hermione as confused as ever.