Bleeding Roses

Chapter 4

Discoveries

Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, her eyes set in a dreamy gaze and her mind wandering in fairy-tale lands. She had given up trying to push Draco's gray eyes away from her mind and now, she couldn't stop thinking about them. She wasn't falling in love, but she was starting to develop a very slight crush, even though she was oblivious to the new feelings. It was only when a shout disturbed her train of thoughts that she came back to reality.

"Hermione!" Harry said as she saw her.

"You're alive!" Ron said in mock relief.

"Yes I survived!" She smiled at her two best friends.

"If you hadn't come back right now, I was thinking that I would track down that git of a Malfoy, chop him into itty bitty little pieces, and brew his remains in a stew!" Ron said half-jokingly. "It was really Harry's idea though."

She smiled at Harry, but he wasn't paying attention. He was staring at what seemed to be her cloak... Of course! The cloak! Hermione thought in horror. Draco's cloak... She quickly took it off and looked at it, her mouth gaping open. The Slytherin crest gleamed in the light. Oh no... she thought, devastated. This can't be happening.

Ron noticed that something was strange and followed Harry's line of vision. His eyes landed on the Slytherin emblem and his eyes widened. He looked at Hermione, who looked even more horrified than they were. Hermione and the trip to Diagon Alley... Hermione and the Slytherin cloak... Slytherin cloak and...

Harry was the first to recover from the shock. He glared at Hermione. "Something tells me that this trip wasn't as horrible as we thought it was," he said coldly.

Hermione felt both the hurt and anger at her "betrayal" in his voice. "Nothing happened between us Harry!" she said worriedly. "We just did our shopping, ate our breakfast, and..." She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence, because Ron interrupted her.

"Nothing happened between you?" he asked angrily. "How about a romantic little breakfast date?"

"Listen to me you two!" she said furiously. "There is nothing between us! Absolutely nothing besides hatred! We only went to the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast was because we were hungry since we both skipped breakfast! We couldn't come back to the Great Hall because breakfast was over! We had no choice! It was either eat something together or starve to death!"

The common room was now quiet. Everyone was staring at her, her teeth gritted and her chest heaving with every breath she took. "What the hell are you looking at?" she snapped at them and they quickly went back to their previous occupations. She turned back to Harry and Ron.

"Also," she said, just as furiously, "he lent me his cloak because I was practically freezing to death, having forgotten my own! Would you two rather have me catch pneumonia and die from it or something?"

She looked at them, one at a time. Both looked a bit scared. The cloak still draped over her arm, she kicked the portrait hole open and stepped through. She wasn't sure where she was going, but her feet were carrying her there. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"I think we should apologize," Harry said nervously.

*****

The moment she entered the Head quarters, she walked to the other side of the common room. Draco's bedroom door was closed. She kicked it open with a loud bang and Draco's immediately sat up on his bed. Hermione threw the cloak at him and it landed in his face. With that, Hermione left without even looking at him.

Draco stared at her retreating back, not knowing exactly what to do. What was going on? She was happy a few minutes ago... So once again, he was following her, his curiosity getting the best of him. The door to her bedroom was still open, and Hermione didn't seem to be aware of his presence. He leaned on the doorframe casually.

"Hello," he said and Hermione jumped about a foot in the air.

"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly. "Step out of my bedroom."

"Well technically, I'm not in your bedroom," he said, smirking.

Hermione looked down, where his feet were and anger flared again. He was right. Outside was wooden flooring, but in her room, it was carpet. And Draco was standing on the wooden part of the floor. She sighed.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Do you know that you threw my cloak at my face?" he asked.

"So?" she asked, irritated that he didn't get to the point quickly.

"What made you so angry?" he asked, still smirking.

"Just because I threw your cloak at your rat face," she said, "it doesn't mean that I'm angry." She kicked her trunk open and bent down.

"I see," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up," she said, as she took out a thick book.

"I will shut up only when I choose to," he said. "What happened?"

Hermione sighed and shut the lid of the trunk closed. "Harry and Ron think that we're going out," she said.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Draco Malfoy then did something that was completely unexpected. He actually laughed. "Us?" he asked between bursts of laughter. "Going out?" He stopped laughing gradually. "That'll be the day when the Dark Lord dances the Macarena in a pink thong!"

Hermione almost smiled, but she didn't. "Bad image!" she said.

Draco smirked. "Not as bad as the image of us dating!" he said.

Hermione glared at him. "Does that mean that I'm not good enough for you?" she asked. "Not that I want to go out with you," she added hastily.

"Let me emphasize the point I've been trying to make for almost seven years," he said. "You are a filthy Mudblood."

"Tell me Malfoy," she said, emphasizing his name with a disgusted intonation, "what difference does it make if I come from a Muggle background?"

"It makes a lot of difference," he said.

"And how so?" she asked.

"You have dirty blood."

"How is my blood dirtier than yours? How is it different? My blood is red and it keeps me alive. Is your blood green? Can you live without your blood? Does it do more than keep you alive? How are you so special, so superior?"

Draco was silent. How was he so superior? What did his father tell him? That Mudbloods and Muggles were ugly and stupid, but... Hermione was a Head Girl and she was not really that ugly... He had to come up with something. Hermione donned a satisfied look on her face.

"I think that you should really stop listening to your father's unsupported conjectures," she said. "It just might do you a little good. You should stop taking in every single thing daddy dearest tells you, especially since they are mere assumptions that are simply based on prejudice."

Draco glared at her. "You don't know anything about my family," he said in a dangerous whisper.

"Are you telling me that they tell you to love Muggle-borns now?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "So what do you do in Malfoy Manor, planning to move to Muggle London? Daddy dearest has decided to quit the Dark Arts and leave You-Know-Who? You don't plan to be a Death Eater just like daddy anymore?" Hermione dropped her sarcasm. "It's not hard to know what your family is doing or what your father says. Whatever he says, you listen like a good little boy, right?"

Draco was fuming. "You do not know anything that is going on in my private life," he said angrily. "You wouldn't feel this way if your father beat you up if you oppose his plans. Or if your father threatened to kill you if you don't obey him. Or if your father ever taught you to believe anything else. Or if your father only had you because he needed an heir!"

Draco finally realized what he had said and his eyes widened in shock. He darted out of her doorway, and into his room. Before Hermione could follow him in, he slammed the door shut behind him, Hermione's nose pressed against the wooden door. She sighed and walked back to her room, contemplating the new information. That accidental outburst provided answers for so many questions. With a pang, Hermione realized that she felt sorry for Draco. She never knew that his life was so awful! She should really try to forgive him for all these years. Now she knew that it wasn't entirely his fault...

*****

Hermione sat in the Great Hall the next morning, eating her breakfast slowly and quietly. Harry and Ron weren't down yet, but Hermione knew that it was typical for them to sleep in during the weekends. Nothing on her plate tasted good anymore, since she didn't have much appetite. She raised her eyes from her golden plate and scanned the Hall. Her eyes fell on Draco. He didn't seem to have an appetite either. He was dabbing his food with his fork, but never actually putting it in his mouth. Crabbe and Goyle, however, were eating their fourth helping of everything like two maniacs who had never tasted food before. Hermione averted her eyes to Draco again, trying to make him look up and see that she wasn't going to tell anyone about his outburst yesterday, but he didn't look up. Hermione knew that he was avoiding her gaze, not because he was unaware of it.

"Um... Hermione?" a voice said besides her and she reluctantly tore her eyes from Draco.

Harry and Ron were standing there, looking rather nervous. She glared at them.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly.

"We came here to apologize," Harry said.

Hermione's facial expression softened. "Go on," she said.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. Ron poked Harry and muttered something that sounded like "you go". Harry poked him back and muttered "no you go". This exchange continued for at least another minute.

"Do you want to talk to me or something?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Harry turned around and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you," he said, looking at anywhere but her.

"Yeah," Ron said, "I'm sorry too. It won't happen again."

Hermione smiled and brought them both into a tight hug.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco stared at the trio bitterly. He would never admit it out loud, but he hated to see that Mudblood Granger had better friends than he did. Potty and the Weasel actually cared for her and they were her real friends. How did he ever get stuck with the two idiotic goons anyway? But he knew the answer to that question already. Father. The events of yesterday resurfaced in his mind. Usually, he always had control of his anger, but what happened yesterday? No one had ever made him so mad that he would shout out so much about his personal life! How did Hermione do that to him? He had to learn to control his anger when he's around her, especially since they were going to the Forbidden Forest today. He stood up and left the Great Hall, still avoiding Hermione's gaze.

*****

"You're late," Draco said coldly, as he watched Hermione's figure approaching.

"Sorry," she said and she did sound genuinely so. "Harry and Ron kept me."

"What were you doing with your two boyfriends?" he asked, just as coldly. "Having snog sessions?"

"They're not my boyfriends," she said, as she got closer to Draco.

"Weasley dumped you," he said, smirking, "are you going after Potter then?"

"Will you just shut up?" she said angrily. "We actually have things to do."

"How are we going to be able to find Unicorn blood and leaves from the Twisted Willow?"

"We can get the leaves first," Hermione said to herself, ignoring Draco's question. "Professor Dumbledore said that when we see the Willow, we will know. "

"Well what if we don't see the Willow?" Draco asked.

"Stop being so pessimistic!" Hermione snapped. In truth, she was wondering the same thing, but she had hope that they will be able to see it. After all, Professor Dumbledore did say that it was the biggest tree in the forest.

They entered the forest together and immediately stepped onto the path. It was November, so the tree branches were almost completely barren, save for a few leaves that still hung loosely on the branches.

Once or twice, Draco's cloak slightly brushed on Hermione's arm and she would shiver. They were so close together, and they were feeling a little uncomfortable. Therefore, they made sure to keep a reasonable distance between them. They followed the path for over forty minutes until they came to a fork.

"Left or right?" Hermione asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Draco said.

"Let's just pick one randomly then," Hermione said.

Together, they both turned right and walked on that path. Slowly, the clumps of trees became denser and the roots were creeping onto the path, threatening to trip an unsuspecting traveler. Magic was thick among these parts of the woods. The enchanting air almost felt stuffy. Magic seemed to have kept the leaves on the trees and scrubs lush and green. Little sunlight filtered in through the thick canopy of leaves. It was beginning to be hard to see. They both took out their wands and muttered "lumos". Slowly and unconsciously, they closed the distance of several feet between them. The path was starting to be overgrown by vegetation. It was obvious that few people had traveled this way. Suddenly, they could see no path anymore. What was left of the ruined trail was entirely overrun by undergrowth. They had to stop.

"Great," Hermione said sarcastically. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"How should I know?" Draco said. "You got us into this mess."

"Oh and how so?" Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at Draco.

"If you didn't stab my hand with your stupid quill, we wouldn't be in detention!" he said.

"Well, if you weren't being such a prat, I wouldn't have to stab your hand with my quill!" she retorted. "This is your fault as much as it is mine!"

"If you"--however, Draco never got to tell her if she did what, because they heard a low growl not too far away from them.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, fear evident in her voice.

"I don't know," Draco whispered, straining his ears to hear more of that growl. Suddenly, the bushes at a slight distance from them shook. Then, everything became quiet again.

Hermione's heartbeat accelerated and her breathing became heavier. She looked at Draco and he looked back at her. His face was emotionless. It took all of Draco's control not to let fear slip onto his face. The bushes stirred again. The two of them slowly started to back away, keeping their eyes on the cluster of bushes. The bushes shook a little harder this time and a few leaves fell to the ground. Draco and Hermione froze. With a thud, a black paw, tipped with long, razor-sharp claws appeared from underneath the leaves. This time, the thing let out a roar that shook the ground below their feet. Suddenly, the huge, black, shadowy thing leapt in the air and landed right in front of the two frightened teenagers. It was growling and spitting as it surveyed its prey with glowing green eyes.

"Run!" Draco shouted and took off, with Hermione following closely behind.

The abnormally gigantic panther ran swiftly after them, closing in the short distance. Draco and Hermione ran faster and faster, but were still unable to evade the feline. They ran like they had never run before. Hermione's foot caught under a tree root. She screamed as the ground came speeding to meet her face. With a thump, she fell onto the ground, just as a sickening crack sounded. From her ankle, pain shot through her body. She turned around and saw the panther advancing on her, its lips almost smiling. As it got ready to pounce, something blindingly white charged at it, its head bowed low, so that a horn was held out in front. The horn collided with the side of the panther and the cat roared in pain.

A hand grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her up. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and draped one of Hermione's arms over his shoulder. They tried to run as rapidly as they could as the Unicorn and the panther engaged themselves into a deadly duel. With every step she took, Hermione's ankle was sending pain all throughout her body. She winced.

"Hang on there Granger," Draco said. "There's a small house a few feet away."

Hermione nodded and bit her lip until she drew blood. The pain was becoming unbearable. Just when she thought that she couldn't take it anymore, Draco was already opening the door of the wooden, two-story cabin in a clearing. A musty scent and an overwhelming wave of rot greeted them and Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. They went in and Draco immediately put Hermione down on a moth-eaten couch. In fact, all of the furniture was moth-eaten and coated with spider webs. There was a fireplace by the couch, which didn't seem to have been lit for centuries. Inside the fireplace, hung a pewter cauldron. Next to that was a wooden table that was coated thickly by dust. There was also something that seemed like a pantry. There were also stairs that led up to the second floor.

Hermione set her wand by her side. Carefully, she took off her shoe and her sock. She massaged her ankle gingerly. It was now turning into a yellowish green color. She winced.

"That looks really bad," Draco said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

"You think?" Hermione said sarcastically. Let's see...she thought. What did Madam Pomfrey teach me? She picked up and wand and muttered, "Finite Dolor."

She felt the stabbing pains slowly leave her and relief washed over her. She stood up slowly, using Draco's shoulder for support. He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut up after seeing the look on Hermione's face. She tested her ankle. Although it did not hurt anymore, it stood out at an odd angle and was very wobbly. She still could not apply pressure to it.

"What spell did you use?" Draco asked, forgetting to hide his amazement.

"It was just a temporary pain reliever charm," she answered. "Nothing special. The pain is going to come back in about an hour."

"Can you walk?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, sort of..." Hermione said.

She took her hand off of Draco's shoulder and began limping across the room, ignoring her broken ankle. Draco watched with amusement.

"I think you're going to be fine," he said, smirking.

Hermione ignored his remark and said, "Who lived here before? This place must be at least four hundred years old!"

"I'll go upstairs to see if I can find anything that will tell us something about this place," he said. "I've never heard that there was a cabin in the Forbidden Forest."

"Me neither," she said. "I'm coming with you."

"You can barely walk!" Draco said amusedly. "Am I supposed to believe that you can actually climb the stairs?"

"Don't underestimate me!" Hermione snapped.

"Gryffindor pride, huh?" Draco smirked.

Hermione glared at him and limped toward the stairs. She still could not put her weight on her injured ankle, so she grabbed the handrail tightly with both hands and slowly made her ascent. She tried to ignore Draco's laughter as much as she could. Finally, her foot reached the last stair and she breathed heavily in exhaustion.

"I told you I could!" she said.

"Actually, you just told me not to underestimate you," Draco said, still smirking.

Hermione groaned in frustration. "You are impossible!" she said.

Draco smirked even more as he ran up the stairs. Hermione looked around the single room. It had a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, and a closet. In between the desk and the bookshelf was an old chest. She limped toward it, wondering what it could be. She tried to open the lid, but it seemed to be locked. Something brushed her side and she saw Draco kneeling besides her, looking at the chest curiously. He withdrew his wand and muttered "Alohomora", but nothing happened.

"Maybe we can smash this," Hermione said. "The wood doesn't look very solid."

Draco was already one step ahead of her. He snatched the candelabra from the desk and was raising it up above his head. Hermione quickly crawled away. As the candelabra fell, Hermione covered her face with her arms to block the splinters. However, still nothing happened. Draco threw the candelabra aside and knelt down again. Hermione inched closer, and her eyebrows knit together. The chest was as good as new. There was not even a scratch on it.

"Finite Incantatem," Draco said.

Hermione tried to open it again, but still, nothing has changed.

"After hundreds of years," she said, "one would think that the spell must be weakening."

"The witch or wizard must be very powerful," Draco said.

"But what could be so important?" Hermione wondered.

Draco merely shrugged.

"Maybe I can research this in the library and come back later on to open this chest," she said.

She stood up clumsily and limped to the stairs, with Draco following. As she tried to descend the stairs, she lost her balance and kicked something down the steps. If two arms hadn't wrapped themselves around her waist to steady her, she would have followed the object to the first floor. She took two steadying breaths and turned around. Two gray eyes met her. She smiled hesitantly.

"Th--thank you..." she said to Draco.

He remained silent. There was an awkward pause.

"Er... what was the thing that fell down the stairs?" she said quickly to cover the pregnant pause. "It seemed pretty small."

"It looked like some kind of a necklace," he said.

Together, they descended the stairs, very much aware of each other. Hermione didn't know why, but she was beginning to become self-conscious. Did she look stupid? Did she smell really bad? Did her palms sweat too much? And the most traumatizing question to her... was she blushing? And why in the world was she so nervous?

At the foot of the stairs lay the mysterious object. Hermione bent down to pick it up and held it toward the window where light came through. She frowned. It was a sort of necklace all right, but what was the pendant? It looked so much like a crest. It had an emerald background with a silver and elegant letter M, topped with a crown. On each side were two snakes facing the M. Underneath was a ribbon where "Pure Sang" was written.

"What is this?" Hermione held it out to Draco.

He took the pendant in his hand and his eyes widened in shock.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"It's the Malfoy crest!" he answered disbelievingly. He turned it around. Jean-François Malefoi was engraved in the silver. "Jean-François Malfoy? He was the only Malfoy exiled for 'falling in love' with a Mudblood!"

"We have French ancestors," Draco answered. "That was the old and French version of our last name."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Hermione said. "Malfoys changed the spelling of their surname? Why?"

Draco shrugged.

"So this is..." Hermione looked around the cabin once again. "This is your ancestor's cabin? This was his... hideout?"

"Apparently," Draco replied.

Suddenly, the wall that Hermione had been leaning on for support shook like something slammed against it. She jumped back in surprise and looked out of the window. She first saw a bloody Unicorn, barely able to stand. She quickly pocketed the pendant and hobbled out of the cabin as fast as she could. The Unicorn was dragging something black out of the clearing into the deep woods. A trail of vivid red blood was splattered on the grass. It was also mixed with silver blood. Hermione followed the trail and found the panther and the Unicorn nearby. The black cat seemed to be dead and the Unicorn seemed to be too weak to live for too long. They were both lying on their sides. The Unicorn had a long wound down its neck and silver blood was still gushing out from the wound.

"You'll be all right," Hermione said to the Unicorn even though she knew it could not understand a word she was saying.

She reached down and ripped a strip of fabric from her robes. She brought it to the Unicorn and began to dab at the cut. The Unicorn neighed softly. She patted its long, white mane affectionately. She knew that it was beyond help, but it made her feel better to have something to do. She was so immersed by the Unicorn that she didn't see Draco stepping by her side, watching her.

"Thank you for saving our lives," Hermione said to the Unicorn, still oblivious to Draco's presence.

It neighed again. Then, it stopped moving. Hermione stroked its mane and she knew that it had just taken its last breath.

"Well..." Draco said softly. "At least we've got one ingredient after the whole ordeal."

"How could you say that?" Hermione shouted. "That poor creature just died! Is that all you care about? How can you be so insensitive? But I guess I can't expect much from you, treating your own house-elves like they are--"

"Oh so it's back to that 'spew' thing, is it?" Draco shouted back.

"It's not 'spew'!" Hermione said. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! But of course you wouldn't care, because you don't give a damn how others feel!"

"Oh and how would you know?" Draco retorted. "It's not like you actually know me!"

"Well if you gave me a chance to be friends with you, I would know you!" Hermione said.

Draco had nothing to say. Damn Granger, he thought. Why did she always have to be right? Why can she always have the last word? The moment he saw her with Harry and Ron, he stopped wanting to be friends with her. The moment he learned that she was Muggle-born he started to despise her. And things went downhill from there.

"So... er... do you want to... er..." What was wrong with him? Malfoys do not stutter.

"Be friends?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah sure." Draco shrugged.

"Then we need to start calling each other by our first names." Hermione hesitated. "Draco."

I love the way she says my name, he thought. Wait... WHAT?

"Hermione."

My name sounds so much better when he says it, she thought. Wait... WHAT?

"Anyways..." Draco cleared his throat. "Could you give me that cloth you're holding? ...Hermione."

"Of course..." Hermione held it out to him. "...Draco..."

When Draco took it from her hand, they're hands brushed. She could feel her cheeks burning. What is wrong with me? She wondered. Fortunately for her, Draco didn't see her. He was fumbling in his pocket for his wand. He muttered something under his breath that Hermione didn't quite catch, but the blood had stopped drying at once.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked, interested.

"It's just a Preservation Charm," he said.

"You have to teach me how to do it," she said.

Draco looked at her, shocked. Then, he remembered that they were supposed to be friends.

"Sure," he answered.

Hermione smiled and he felt his heart skip a beat. What's happening to me? He wondered. Then, Hermione gasped.

"What?" he asked.

Hermione just pointed at something over his shoulder. He spun around. It was a tree, but it was no ordinary tree. It seemed like it was ten trees intertwined together to form the trunk. The leaves fell almost to the ground. It was easily the largest tree in the forest. Ten adults could have formed a circle around it if they were hand-in-hand.

"The Twisted Willow," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione was already picking the leaves off of the willow and stuffing them into the pockets of her cloak and robes. Draco followed suit and soon, their pockets were stuffed with leaves.

"Our work here is done," he said and looked around at Hermione.

She was biting her lip and cringing. The pain in her injured ankle had returned at full force. Oh no, Draco thought. He could only think of one solution. He quickly swept Hermione off her feet and carried her back to the cabin, where her wand was. At first, she wanted him to let her go, but then, she realized that he was just trying to help her.

"We have to get back quickly," he said as soon as he set her on the couch.

But how are they going to get back? He didn't know where they were! Then, it came to him. It was so obvious. So easy. He walked out of the cabin and held his wand up in the air.

"Accio Nimbus 2001!" he said.

He did not have to wait for long. His broomstick came speeding to meet him. He went back inside to get Hermione. They mounted, but Hermione was shaking.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I--I'm f--fine," she said, her voice shaking.

He kicked off the ground and Hermione screamed. She snapped her eyes shut and tightened her grip on the broomstick.

"You're afraid of heights?" Draco asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Of course not!" she shouted, but her voice was shaking.

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and she seemed to relax, against her own wishes. They were speeding toward the castle at a distance. A chilly wind blew. Draco could smell the faint scent of Hermione's hair. It was... intoxicating. Soon, they left the Forbidden Forest and Draco pulled the broomstick into a dive. Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed so tightly that Draco's fingers became numb. They dismounted. Nobody was on the grounds, since it was so chilly. Draco took his broomstick in one hand and used the other to support the limping Hermione all the way to the Hospital wing, ignoring the confused looks other students gave them.