Krum Do I Love?

Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 6

Not all opposites attract

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Remus Lupin felt the cold of the flagstone against his cheek. That must mean that he was awake. He wondered how long he had before moonrise. Probably not very long, as he spent most of the day sleeping off his riots as a wolf. Remus started heaving himself slowly off the floor, opening his eyes in the process. He looked around and released a low grunt. He was going to need a new mattress. Again.

Remus let out a sequence of soft curses, all directed at the greasy-haired Potions master who had disappeared a few weeks ago without prior notice, and without preparing any Wolfsbane Potion before leaving. Remus had only one more dose of the Potion, which he resolved to keep for an emergency. He had made repeated attempts to recreate the Master’s success, so far producing only glorious failures. Not for the first time, Remus was forced to lock himself in a cage for the duration of the three horrible nights of the full moon.

In his desperation, Remus even let Sirius help him with the last attempt. Judging by the hair on the back of his hands, the only difference this last potion had made was to turn his hair ocean-blue. And it didn’t wear off when he turned human again either.

Remus picked up his wand, happy that as a wolf he couldn’t use it. Using the wand, he unlocked the door and stepped out of the cage. He was going to find Sirius and give him a taste of his own medicine. Literally. He was going to make him drink some of the potion. Let his hair turn blue as well.

The most likely place to find Sirius was in the kitchen. Being on the run most of the time had made Sirius very appreciative of steady food sources. Remus stalked into the small kitchen, and found it surprisingly empty. There was a note on the wooden kitchen table, undoubtedly left there by Sirius. Only he would pin a note to the table using a large kitchen knife.

Remus wrenched the knife from the table, not without significant effort. He scanned the bruised surface of the table, grimacing with discontent. The wood was punctured in numerous places. He should probably get Sirius a corkboard. His eyes travelled to the piece of parchment. It said:

Finally up, are you, Moony?

Hope the new Wolfsbane was a success. Remus grumbled in response.

We’re out on a short mission. Remus almost tore the parchment in anger. Don’t be like that. This couldn’t wait. We should be back by early afternoon.

See you then

The letter wasn’t signed, but it had Sirius’ particular accent all over it, even if Remus had ignored the untidy handwriting, which he hadn’t. Remus looked out of the round kitchen window. Obviously, early afternoon had come and gone. They were on a mission, and they were late. That could only mean that something had gone wrong. It wasn’t like them not to keep their word. Not at times like this. Not even Sirius. He went to his study, opened a cherry-wood chest and retrieved a flask from inside it. He uncorked the flask and served it to his lips. "Cheers," he muttered, before swallowing its content in one particularly gruesome gulp.

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Harry placed the hood of his invisibility cloak over his head. He scanned the room around him, making sure he had packed everything he might need. He would not be able to come back. Not after running out on Ron and Hermione. And Malfoy, he reminded himself. Who cares about Malfoy? He argued back. He did save my life. Harry shook the memory out of his head. Malfoy got more than enough kicks from it. And anyway, I’m paying him back by not taking him on this dangerous search.

Harry passed through the portrait hole, confusing the Fat Lady with his disembodied password. He strode towards the entrance hall, careful not to his anyone with his waggling broomstick, and wondering what he would do once he got there. Get as far away from the castle and Hermione, that’s for sure. There was no reason to risk her just because he was careless enough to fall in the hands of Death Eaters with a sick sense of humour. And Ron. There was no reason to risk Ron either.

He didn’t care about risking Malfoy, he just didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Especially not after that little experiment Malfoy had, connecting both their Dark Marks. Harry wasn’t surprised that Malfoy had a Dark Mark. Like father like son. He was sure other Slytherins had it too. But he was still amazed by the coldness of his heart. He could still feel the pinch of the icy touch whenever he concentrated on the bond Malfoy had created. Connecting their hideous marks had mixed their souls for a few seconds, and Harry still shivered as he remembered how Malfoy’s soul had felt. It was worse than he had imagined.

Harry wanted to see Cho one last time before he left. He knew she was better for the simple reason that she wasn’t worse, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes. He stood in front of the closed hospital wing door, wondering if anyone would notice it opening seemingly by itself, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look, and had to jump aside as Hermione almost walked straight into him. She’s probably here for her boyfriend. Hermione must have heard his hushed grunt, because she looked around suspiciously, before smiling to herself as if she had just remembered a private joke. She opened the hospital door, and stepped in. Harry held the door behind her just slightly longer than it would take the door to close by itself. Cho was still unconscious, but she seemed at peace. Her cheeks had begun to regain their normal colour. The door closed, missing Harry’s fingers by an inch, and he made his way outside the castle.

The first stop in Harry’s solo search was where he’d last seen the Pensieve. That was also where he woke up hours later, hurt, and cold, and with the Dark Mark. He remembered hearing horses and seeing numerous hoof prints in the snow. At the time, he had paid no heed to it. He couldn’t have cared less about the way his attackers travelled. But now, when he was on the look for them, any detail was important.

Harry paced the edge of the Forbidden Forest, racking his brain for anything else that could help. Nothing came up. Maybe he should have taken his chances with Dumbledore. But now it was too late. After that Daily Prophet article was published, no one would believe he came in good faith. If he had good faith, he should have used it before.

Harry stopped pacing as he realised his invisibility cloak did not prevent his shoes from leaving their mark on the muddy soil. If only he had a point to start. All he needed was someone who was there. He’ll figure out a plan as he went on. A face floated in front of his eyes, the full moon face of his attacker. Harry knew whom he must seek. He had a lead. Goyle.

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Hermione went out of the library pressing a book to her heart. She measured the book critically. It would make a significant addition to her pack. She might need to use an additional levitation spell. Now there was one more thing she had to do, and then she was all ready to go. Hermione increased her pace, following the route to the hospital wing.

Her insides churning, Hermione opened the infirmary door and took a cautious glance inside. Nothing had changed there since she had left it the day before. Cho was lying still on the bed, white as a sheet. Viktor was sitting by her side, looking more sallow than ever. He looked almost as in need of care as Cho.

"Viktor, we need to talk," Hermione sat beside him, looking at Cho’s unconscious form on the bed in front of him.

He looked up at her, saying nothing. Hermione could see her reflection in his dark, distant eyes. He wasn’t completely with her, but she had no choice. She had to get this over with, or she may never have the chance.

"Viktor, I -" She choked on her own words.

"You vant to break up vit me," He said, his eyes two pools of sadness.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. Then, she felt she could no longer look him in the eyes, and she bowed her head. "I’m sorry."

"I vos expecting dat. It is okay." He placed a warm hand on her cheek. His touch was different than what she was used to. It was still caring, but it lacked the waves of passion that it usually sent through her.

"It was what I said about the emoplifier, wasn’t it?" The second she told him that she had never felt anything like the emotions recorded on it, she knew it was a mistake.

"Not really," he said to her great surprise. "It vos the fact that you repeatedly apologised about it."

"I did?"

"Every few minutes."

"Oh."

"Of every day."

"Ohhh."

"For two weeks." He smiled as she gasped.

"I’m sorry," said Hermione, looking truly miserable. "I didn’t realise I was so obsessed with it. I just didn’t want to hurt you. You’re a wonderful guy, and I do care about you." She tried to make him feel a little better. Despite his timid smile, he looked so miserable.

"At first, I vos hoping dat you vill learn to laff me. But ven I saw you kiss Malfoy, it helped me overcome you. If dat is your type, I’m glad you don’t laff me."

"I did not kiss Malfoy!" Hermione cried, extremely upset about the implication. "He attacked me! I thought you knew that. You hit him!"

"I hit him because he kissed you vile you vere still my girlfriend, and because it is alvays good to hit Malfoy." Hermione couldn’t help but smirk. "But you forget dat I vos in a very good view point to see dat kiss. He certainly vos not kissing you unilaterally."

"That is not true!" exclaimed Hermione, but inside, she knew he was right. She didn’t even like Malfoy, but she also didn’t have the inner power to resist his wonderful kiss. Maybe it’s all for the best. Maybe Viktor was better off thinking she liked Malfoy. If it helped him with the break-up, then she should just let him think that.

"Goodbye, Hermy-own-ninny." He gave her a peck on the cheek, and turned his attention to Cho.

Hermione started for the door. "Goodbye Viktor. Thanks for everything," she whispered before leaving him for good.

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"What’s he doing here?"

Ron and Hermione had just stepped into the entrance hall to see Draco already waiting for them there. That question, dripping with venom, was asked by both boys simultaneously, the second their eyes landed on each other.

"I’m his best friend!" exclaimed Ron to Hermione’s visible chagrin.

"Well, I saved his life," Malfoy drawled coldly. "Can you honestly say you did something like that for him?"

"Don’t be so self righteous, Malfoy," Ron spat. "If Hermione wasn’t there, you would have left him to die."

"Not true," Draco said, sounding very sincere. "I would have done it again, if I had to."

"Oh, please," scowled Ron, but Hermione wondered if it was possible that he actually meant it.

They both sulked for a few seconds, Ron in his fuming, sizzling way, and Draco in his chilly, stiff way. When the awkward moment was no longer bearable, Ron asked, "Where is Harry anyway?"

"Probably trying to ditch us," answered Hermione with a smile.

Ron seemed to steam even worse, thinking of Harry leaving him behind.

"What are you smiling about?" asked Draco, a shadow of a smile decorating his face, too.

"Oh, he’s in for a little surprise," Hermione’s smile widened. She looked at her watch. "We still have about half an hour. Let’s discuss our best course of action."

"The first thing is to find Harry, don’t you think?" asked Ron, who managed to relax a little.

"No," said Malfoy coolly. "Let’s sit.

"You sit. I’m going to look for him." Ron started walking towards the doors, certain that Hermione would follow him, but she didn’t. She took a chair close to the doors to the Great Hall and sat herself comfortably. Ron watched as Malfoy dragged a chair too close to her, and slumped on it like it was a folding beach chair. He hesitated a little, and than decided that Hermione was probably in a greater danger than Harry, and stayed. He tried to get a chair between Hermione and Malfoy, but there was no way to insert it in the few inches gap between them. Eventually, he gave up, and placed it in front of the two.

"Okay," began Hermione with a very decisive voice. "We’re looking for whoever snatched Harry on Yule night. Draco, you’re the only one of us who was awake that night. Tell us what you remember."

Ron fixed his stare on Hermione. Draco? What ever happened to calling him Malfoy?

"I’m afraid I didn’t get to see much," Draco said, watching Hermione in much the same intensity as Ron. "I was –" he paused to give Hermione a meaningful look, "I was busy."

Hermione blushed as she remembered what Draco was busy with. He was holding her as she slept through the duration of the sleeping potion’s influence. She wondered if he was already in love with her then, and blushed a deeper red. She felt lucky for whatever effect she had on Draco. Without it, he never would have come with her to help Harry’s life then, and he never would have come now. She had no trouble accepting the fact that they needed his special expertise with the Dark Arts.

"Hermione, are you all right?" asked Ron, worried about her flushed face. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead. "You feel normal."

Hermione held Ron’s hand against her cheek, indulging on its coolness against her feverish skin. The penetrating look Draco gave her made her insides freeze, and she dropped Ron’s hand. She no longer needed anything to cool her down. She took a deep breath. "Maybe we should try a different angle." She ignored the fact that her voice quivered, hoping that the others would do the same. "Everything we know about that night is from what Harry told us. Unfortunately, his story doesn’t make much sense."

"What did he say?" asked Draco, who, naturally, hadn’t heard Potter’s version of the events.

"We should try to screen out the facts," suggested Ron.

"What doesn’t make sense?" Draco tried again.

"Well, we’re sure that the Pensieve was stolen," Hermione started listing.

"And that Harry went chasing after someone who was in the castle," stated Ron dryly. He couldn’t understand how it was always Harry in the spot light.

"And we know he was taken someplace for a few hours."

"Can you please tell me what Harry said about that night?" said Draco, returning to his old drawl. He was getting increasingly resentful.

"How do you know he was taken?" asked Ron, more to annoy Draco than anything.

Hermione choked. Ron didn’t know about the Dark Mark on Harry’s arm, and she certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.

"Because otherwise, he would have been frozen solid hours before we found him," replied Draco scornfully to Hermione’s relief. "Now, tell me everything he told you."

They did.

"That’s not a lot of information," noted Draco when they were done. They both nodded. "So, the arrogant git is claiming that he was able to levitate the Pensieve?"

"Just for a short distance," said Ron, hoping that this didn’t sound like the diminution of Harry’s achievement that it actually was. As much as he hated Malfoy, he had to agree that ‘arrogant git’ suited this part of the story very well.

"He’s probably right about Gregory’s father," Draco mused out loud. "He is in You-Know-Who’s service. Could have been him. We should probably seek him out."

A loud thud was heard from the direction of the great oak door, as if someone was banging on it with a huge fist, or if something was thrown at it.

"What was that?" Ron turned sharply towards the door.

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Oops," she piped. "I guess that would be Harry." She strolled towards the door as naturally as she could, leaving the stunned Ron and Draco far behind, and managed to hold back her sprint until she was only a few feet away from the great oak door. She opened it to find Harry’s head hovering at waist-height above the top step, looking greatly bemused.

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Sirius woke up with a horrible headache. Hangover? I don’t remember drinking. The memory of the events that let to his current situation started streaming back into Sirius’ consciousness. Oh. And then SNAPE! If I lay my hands on that –

"Good morning, Black."

Sirius opened his eyes. The hatred that filled him left no room for the pain and it simply evaporated into thin air. A room formed in front of his eyes. It was as small as a room can get without feeling crowded. Its walls were made of large blocks of rough white stone. No windows were visible, but dim light lingered in the room, giving everything a grey tone. Snape was sitting five feet away, leaning against the stone wall, looking at Sirius with bored eyes.

Sirius jumped at him. At least his mind told him that he jumped at him. His body, on the other hand, kept lying, slouched on the white flagstones. He tried to curse Snape, but all that came out was a deep, meaningful snarl.

"Don’t strain yourself. We put three different restraining hexes on you." Snape’s voice was as indifferent as his eyes. For lack of a better thing to do, Sirius snarled again. "I see three hexes still didn’t restrain you completely. You’re strong." Sirius thought he heard a trace of appreciation in Snape’s monotonous voice, but it must have been only his imagination.

Snape shook his feet as if to restore the blood flow in them. "I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for quite some time. I need you to understand I had no choice. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else. This way I’ve gained a little more of You-Know-Who’s trust. And this was good for you too - Don’t look at me like that - I used a mild stunning curse, while the others were firing all known torture curses. Believe me, you’re much better off with what I hit you with."

Snape rose to his feet and walked slowly over to where Sirius was lying. He stepped over some obstacles. Adjusting his eyes to the shadows, Sirius was able to recognise those obstacles as Arabella and Mundungus.

"I need your help. If you say one wrong word about me to any one of the death eaters around, I’m as good as dead. They must not know I’m still in touch with Dumbledore. This is frustrating. If I take the restrain off your voice, do you promise to behave?" Snape’s voice took a sudden turn towards desperate. Sirius didn’t react, still considering.

"I’ll take your refrain from gnarling as an agreement." Snape pointed his wand towards Sirius and muttered several words.

"Eehhh –" Sirius tried his voice. "You scummy little piece of –"

"Come now, Black. You don’t want to be heard. I don’t want you to be heard. We’ll both be dead in less time than you could say, ‘Rita Skeeter is a Death Eater’".

"What?!" Sirius was so shocked he forgot about being nasty to Snape.

"Didn’t you know? Than why on earth did you come to her house?"

"To save her from the Death Eaters who were controlling her using the Imperius Curse?" Sirius sounded hesitant.

Neither of the men could remember the last time Snape laughed so heartily. "So you had no idea? You didn’t know this was You-Know-Who’s headquarters? You just walked right in? You should change your name to Daniel." Snape paused to give Sirius a snide look. "On second thought, Daniel is not really a good name for a dog. ‘Spot’, I think, would be more appropriate."

That reminded Sirius why he was so angry. "You," he rumbled. "What possessed you to tell them the dog was me? I could have got away if you hadn’t." Once again, Sirius was harshly reminded that he couldn’t move. His desire to grab Snape by the throat was so evident, that Snape took a hurried step backward.

"If I hadn’t, they would have known I’m a spy. There was someone watching us. Someone who knew you were that dog." Snape searched in Sirius’ eyes for a glimpse of understanding.

"Who?"

Snape swallowed hard. He took another step back, and turned his back towards Sirius. "It was - Pettigrew." He swirled back to face Sirius, but failed to meet his eyes.

Sirius closed his eyes. His heart leaped with joy. For a moment, he forgot were her was, and felt free - more liberated than he had been for fifteen years. For the first time, someone had seen Pettigrew. Someone whose testimony would be accepted by the Ministry. This was the end of his life as a renegade. Welcome - to the first day - of the rest of your life.

"I’m sorry, Black. I saw him for the first time two days ago. I didn’t believe you before - I said some things -"

"Apology accepted," Sirius interrupted. He couldn’t stand hearing Snape grovelling with a shaky voice.

"Good." Snape’s voice was steady and venomous again, as if his previous words had never been spoken. He stepped towards a heavy metal door that stood on the other side of the room, opened it, and started walking through. "I’m glad you understand, though I must admit, I did enjoy hitting you."

As the heavy door closed behind Snape, Sirius tried to cover his face with his hands. Before he remembered he couldn’t, he found out that he actually could.

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As Harry saw Hermione’s wide smile, he started to understand the very recent developments. Moments ago, he was striding towards Hogsmeade, heading towards the post office in order to find Goyle’s home address, and take the train there. The next moment, he was uncontrollably flying back to the Hogwarts castle, faster than a speeding Firebolt.

"You put a spell on me," stated Harry angrily, glaring up at Hermione.

"You tried to ditch us," retorted Hermione, glaring right back at his detached face.

Harry took Hermione’s hand to help him up, making her jump a foot in the air. He had forgotten he still had the invisibility cloak over most of him, making his outstretched hand touch Hermione with no previous warning. This seemed like a good option for retaliation. He pulled the hood over his head, and began tickling Hermione, attacking her from all sides, making sure she couldn’t catch him. A small part of him wanted Hermione to catch him. He told himself that it was just so that the revenge would become more challenging, but somehow found that argument unconvincing.

Very quickly, Hermione found herself rolling at the top of the flight of stairs, unable to defend herself, or to stop laughing. But the laughter was only tickle-induced. Inside, she did not feel like laughing at all. She felt Harry’s hands touching her, teasing her, sending her stomach into a complete loop every time it made contact with her. She could smell him when he neared her, but she could no longer do anything about it. Her heart pounded faster than ever. She tried unsuccessfully to convince herself that it was just the physical effort of laughing so hard.

"What happened to her?" asked Ron, as he and Malfoy caught up with her at the door.

"No idea," said Draco. "Maybe someone put a tickling charm on her."

Harry was alerted by the talking voices. He peeked beyond the door and saw the two boys looking right through him into the darkened void. Malfoy and Ron. Great, two more people to try and hold him back. Harry let go of Hermione, and started descending the stairs quickly, before the boys could catch on.

Both Ron and Draco looked at Hermione, whose seizure of laughter has finally ebbed away, and was lying still on her back, working to catch her breath. They turned questioning looks to one another, and then turned their heads back, wearing matching disgusted countenances.

"There’s no point in trying to escape," Hermione called, still gasping for air, surprising Draco and Ron with this statement. Neither of them was trying to escape. They both stood perfectly still by her.

"The spell will just catch you again in half an hour," Hermione continued. "Care to take another flying crash into the door?"

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Harry took off the invisibility cloak, and commenced climbing the stairs with a protesting slouch. He wasn’t even halfway up when Draco and Ron recovered from their initial shock, and took either side of Hermione.

"Are you all right?" asked Draco, supporting her head with one hand, and interlacing his other hand’s fingers with hers.

Ron brushed away gently dishevelled strands of hair that covered Hermione’s face. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Hermione had no idea what to do. She kept her eyes shut. As flattered as she was by both of them worrying about her, she wished they were both gone. She did not want to be in the middle of a fight between the two.

A frightening sight greeted Harry as he finally reached the top few stairs. "Get your hands off her," he let out in a low grumble that made both boys jump in alarm.

"I didn’t mean you, Ron," Harry said in his normal voice, wondering why Ron looked so guilty. "I meant Malfoy." He straightened a look at Malfoy, and reproduced the low grumble. "Don’t ever touch her again."

"What if she wants me to?" drawled Draco, looking at Harry through narrowed eyes.

Hermione sensed the build-up of electricity between the two. They are going to be more difficult than I imagined, she mused. She took each of them by the hand, and marched them into the entrance hall, not giving either of them a chance to retort. Her action broke the accumulating tension between the two.

"We should get going," said Ron dryly, looking worriedly out of the window as the night was spreading its cold blanket over the school grounds. "Where were you going, anyway?" he directed the question to Harry.

"To find Goyle." Harry sighed to the sight of questioning looks around him. "Well, he’s the one who attacked me when I dropped the Pensieve. It figures that he would know where I was taken."

"Dropped the Pensieve," Draco repeated after him. "Yes, I’ve heard that fantastic story of yours about levitating it."

"What do you mean?"

"You can’t levitate a magically loaded object. It would drain your magic faster than you could say ‘squib’. I think you made that up just like you made up the story of how Diggory died."

Harry launched himself at Draco, sending all his weight forward into a single great punch. Unfortunately, Draco moved aside, and let Harry scud past him with his fist in the lead, crashing into the wall behind him. Before Harry had another go at Draco, Ron grabbed him around the waist, and whispered calming words in his ear. Harry let the tension in his muscles relax slowly, and then attempted to wriggle out of Ron’s grip. The way Ron held him was nice, but with all his heart he wished it had been Hermione.

"Come on," said Draco with a sly smile. "If you’re done fondling each other, I know where to find Goyle’s father."

Ron and Harry broke apart hurriedly, both blushing to the roots of their hair. They walked to the outside, careful not to look at one another.

"And I was going to find him in the wizarding yellow-pages."

"I was just wondering," said Hermione, her brows wrinkled with thought, "Finding Goyle was exactly the course of action Draco suggested."

The looks Draco and Harry exchanged after that almost made both of them freeze.

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It was time for Draco to start administering the old Malfoy charm. Nothing stole a girl’s heart like taking care of her. Except for diamonds, maybe, but that was saved for the more advanced stages of courting.

Draco stopped and turned towards the group as the menacing forms of the Forbidden Forest’s trees started closing on them. "I don’t think Hermione should come with us," he said.

"What? Why?" snapped Hermione.

"Well, at the risk of sounding cruel," he began,

"That would be a first," muttered Ron sarcastically.

Draco glared at him and went on, "You are a Mudblood. And you are going on a dangerous mission with two Death Eaters and a moron," he couldn’t resist the opportunity to punch it in to Ron.

"I’m a muggle-born!" Hermione’s voice drowned Ron’s protest.

"And I’m not a Death Eater!" Harry proclaimed.

"Oh, no? Than what’s this?" Draco grabbed Harry’s arm and bared the Dark Mark on it.

Ron goggled at it, his mouth hanging open.

"Oh, Close your mouth, Ron," Hermione said angrily. "He’s no Death Eater. He just had that branded on him when he was unconscious."

"Is that true?" Ron looked at Harry, dreading the answer.

Harry nodded and pulled his arm away. Malfoy’s touch on his skin was like frozen knifes. "He is right, though," Harry said, looking at Hermione and ignoring Ron’s dubious look. "You should stay here. Malfoy is a real Death Eater, and we’re bound to encounter more. It is not safe for you."

Draco looked to the sky, as if wishing for a shooting star to hit him. Harry was using his own tricks to lure Hermione. No falling star came. Few regular stars could be seen through the dense vegetation.

"Oh, and it’s so very safe for you!" said Hermione angrily.

"I don’t have a choice," retorted Harry. "For me its either this or Azkaban. Not much of a choice."

"And what about Ron?"

"What about me?" Ron was jolted back into the conversation.

"He’s in much less danger than you," ruled Draco. "He’s a pureblood. He can always claim that he has come to join the dark forces, but you don’t have that option."

"I would never do such thing!" exclaimed Ron, his Gryffindor blood steaming.

"Than you should stay here too," stated Draco. Getting rid of the Weasley was not such a bad idea even if it didn’t help him get the girl.

He looked at Harry. The boy was competing with him for the girl’s heart. It was time to discredit him a little. "And as for you," he said with narrowed eyes, "I don’t believe your story about getting that mark when you were unconscious. I think you chose to have it." He reached for Harry’s arm again, but this time Harry was too quick for him, and moved away before Draco could grab it.

"You’re wrong, Malfoy." Harry’s voice was dripping hatred.

"Prove me wrong," teased Draco, the illuminated wand in his hand giving additional malice to the words.

"How can I?" said Harry in frustration. He hoped the others didn’t take Draco’s words as good.

"Actually, I think we can prove that beyond any doubt," said Hermione, rummaging her rucksack.

Draco paled ever so slightly. This was not going his way at all. He did not want Harry to prove his innocence, certainly not to Hermione. "So, you developed a Dark-Mark-tracer?" he mocked.

"No," said Hermione, pulling out a clear crystal flask and holding it up victoriously. "I have Veritaserum Syrup."

Harry took a step back, and Draco gasped. Ron, who had suffered one too many shocks for such a short period of time, remained staring at her, looking numb.

Harry considered his situation. "I’m not taking that," he announced finally. No matter what that would make the others think, some things were better to remain private.

Draco closed his mouth and smiled. Maybe this was going well after all. "You’re absolutely right not to take it," he said seriously, a grey spark playing in his eyes. "You might end up telling us what really happened."

"Not funny, Malfoy. I don’t mind telling you where I got the mark. I’m afraid of what else you’re gonna ask."

"What on earth could you tell me that I don’t know? The password to the Gryffindor tower? That is a secret you should guard with your life, Potter."

Harry was thinking more in the line of Sirius’ whereabouts. "There are - things," he said, trying to sound mysterious.

"Well, there are Weasley and Hermione here. They’ll ask the questions. You can gag me, if you’d like." Draco smiled mischievously, but his smile was directed at Hermione.

"Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, with or without a truth potion," Harry smirked.

"Forget it," said Draco. "I believe you. You didn’t want the Dark Mark put on your arm, you’re not a Death Eater, and you also levitated a Pensieve," he jeered.

"All right!" Harry fell for the provocation. "I’ll do it. But if you ask anything irrelevant to the mark, you’d better run really fast, because I’ll kill you." His green eyes burned the inside of Draco’s scull. "I don’t mean just cause you a serious injury, I mean kill you."

With a swift motion he took the flask from Hermione’s unresisting hand, and knowing that if he gave it any more thought he would retract, poured three drops into his mouth.

No one spoke. They all waited anxiously for something to happen. "How long does this take?" Harry asked.

"It should be instantaneous," replied Hermione. "But you should know better than anyone. You’re the one who’s seen it work."

"You have?" asked Draco, surprised.

"When Dumbledore questioned Barty Crouch," answered Harry, not knowing exactly why he said that.

"Is the potion working?" asked Ron.

"I don’t know," said Harry. "I’d expect a ‘yes’ to come out of my mouth if it was working." Harry grimaced. He didn’t really mean to give that long speech. "I guess it does," he added as an afterthought.

"Lets give it a test," suggested Hermione, as she sat herself on a near-by tree-stump. "We’ll calibrate it just like a polygraph machine. All right?"

"Sure," said Harry, taking after her, and finding another fallen stump to sit on. Ron and Draco had a short concealed race to the position next to Hermione. Ron reached her a second earlier, and sat almost underneath Draco. Reluctant, Draco trudged towards Harry, and sat as far away from him as the stump allowed.

"What’s a polio-graph?" asked Ron, not sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"It’s a muggle version of Veritaserum," Draco told him with a patronising voice. "Not very effective. I would have thought a muggle-lover like your father would have one at home."

The attention was shifted momentarily from Harry to Draco. "How would a proud pureblood like yourself would know about this?" questioned Hermione.

"Advanced muggle studies," Draco said curtly.

"You take Muggle Studies?" Ron found this hard to believe.

"Know thy enemy," quoted Draco.

"ENEMY?" howled Hermione.

Draco knew when it was time to stop talking. "Maybe not the best choice of words," he said, looking intensely into her passionate brown eyes, trying to estimate the damage of his words.

"You’re an arrogant, slimy, stupid git, Malfoy," said Harry. "I think the truth syrup is making me say that." Harry released a tiny moan and folded slightly, holding his side.

Hermione looked at him worried. "Let’s get this over with," she said. "I’m going to ask you two questions. Try to answer both with ‘yes’."

Draco thought that was a stupid test, but he didn’t want to aggravate Hermione any further, so he said nothing.

"Is your name Harry Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry. He didn’t feel any different than normal. Maybe the potion wasn’t working. Maybe he was immune to Veritaserum.

"Is your name Draco Malfoy?"

"Yuck! Y -" Harry tried to say ‘yes’, but a gale of pain seized him. It was very much like the Cruciatus Curse. "No!" he called out the answer that carved itself into his brain. The pain has immediately ceased. "It’s working," he panted.

"So, Potter -" Draco began.

"I’ll ask the questions," Hermione interrupted him adamantly.

She softened her voice, trying to conceal her tension. "Harry, are you a Death Eater?" She shot straight to the point.

Harry wanted to say ‘No’, but he began to feel the pain build up. He tried to form an ‘I don’t know’ answer, but that only increased the pain. He felt the word ‘yes’ forming in his head, although he knew it wasn’t his own thought. This part was very similar to the Imperius Curse. Great, he thought. Two unforgivable curses for the price of one. "I guess this mark says I am," he admitted, not daring to look her in the eye.

Hermione’s voice shook when she spoke again. "I guess that’s it, then."

"No," objected Harry. "I didn’t want it."

"Than why didn’t you want Hermione to come?" asked Draco, taking advantage of Hermione’s downcast spirit.

"Because I -" before the words formed in his mouth, they reached Harry’s brain. Because I love her. Harry rolled off the tree stump, crying out in pain, but refused to let the words out. "None - of your - business," he groaned through gritted teeth.

"That’s all right, stop, STOP!" Hermione called. She jumped to Harry, knocking down Ron as she went. "You don’t have to tell us!"

When the agony subsided, Harry saw Hermione’s face very close to his. It was a mask of worry. Harry’s heart skipped a beat when he looked into her eyes. She’s worried about me, but now I know what I feel for her. I love her. Could she ever feel the same for me? He turned his head away, afraid that his eyes would surrender his thoughts. She is with Viktor Krum. She loves him. What was I thinking?

Hermione’s knees began ache where they had hit the hard forest ground. She ignored the pain, and continued stroking Harry’s wet temples. He looked all right now, but a moment ago - what has she done to him? She would have died if anything had happened to him. Hermione tried to catch Harry’s eye, but he refused to look at her. She straightened her back, and tilted her head, pondering. The pain in her knees increased steadily. What was he trying to hide, anyway?

"I swear to you," Harry said, still not looking at her. "I didn’t want this mark. I don’t know who put it on me, and I would -" he tried to say ‘I would never hurt you’, but according to the new wave of anguish that started welling inside him, he realised that wasn’t the truth. He didn’t mean to hurt Cho as well, but he had nearly killed her.

From this close, Hermione saw the signs of his attempt at another lie very clearly. She got up, and strolled over to her rucksack. She pulled another flask out, and tossed it towards Harry, who was now sitting on the forest floor.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Bezoar juice." Hermione didn’t look at him as she said that.

"I thought it’s only good for poisons."

"Veritaserum is a type of poison. Just drink some of it, and let’s go. Half the night is already gone." She sounded very impatient, which she considered as a good thing. Much better than whimpering, which was truly what she wanted to do.

Harry got up, and took a small sip from the flask. "Draco Malfoy is adorable," he tried. No pain. The Bezoar juice was working. He gave Hermione the half-full flask back, placing it carefully in her hand. He let his fingers linger on hers until she pulled her hand back.

Hermione turned away from Harry, afraid to look at him and getting a little apprehensive about the potential danger he presented. She packed both flasks hurriedly, and turned into the forest, leading the way from two steps ahead, before breaking down into tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark Lord had been watching the scene in his silver hearth, as he has often done in the last several days. A wide smile was spread across his face. As wide as his snake-like face allowed.

"You see, Nagini," he hissed in a language intelligible only to the serpent at his feet, "Our plan is proceeding well." He stopped to watch Harry slowly heave himself from the ground, and begin to shamble along the path set by his friends. "His friends are losing their trust in him, and he is letting himself be led by one of us."

Voldemort turned away from the fire. The image behind his back immediately dissolved into ordinary flames. "Very sloppy," he hissed with half-disappointment. "How unrewarding. I was expecting a more intriguing battle. But, no matter. Soon, he will kill one of his companions, and then, my dear Nagini, then - we shall have him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hermione, wait up."

"Leave me alone, Draco. I need a few minutes."

"May I remind you that you are walking deep into the Forbidden Forest, you don’t know where you are, and what’s worse, you have absolutely no idea where you’re going?" Draco caught up with her, leaving Weasley a few yards behind. Potter dragged his feet way in the back, increasing the distance between him and the rest of them all.

"I’m sorry you had to find out like this."

"What exactly is it that I ‘found out’, Draco?"

Draco placed a tender hand on her back, creating twirls of chill between her shoulder blades. "I’m sorry," he repeated. Hermione increased her pace in a failed attempt to shake Draco away. "We should have taken a right turn there," he added hurriedly.

"Where?"

"Just now. You passed it two second ago."

"There was no turn."

"Oh yes, there was."

Hermione turned so abruptly that she walked right into Ron. Draco jumped aside in time to avoid the collision.

"Are you all right?" Ron wrapped her with both his hands, barely managing to stop her from falling.

"Yes, thank you." She made no move to get away from him. She looked too tired to do anything.

"Your face is wet. Why are you crying?" Ron held her with one arm, releasing his other hand to gently wipe her face. He moved his thumb under her eyes, cupping her chin in his large palm. She leaned her cheek on his hand, seeking comfort in its familiarity. Ron felt his heart racing wildly. Her face was so close, and getting closer still. He could sense her warm breath on the heal of his hand. An inch closer, and he would feel it on his lips.

Draco cleared his throat as loudly as he could, which had absolutely no effect on either Ron or Hermione. Ignoring the fact that he couldn’t possibly fit in the tiny gap that separated the two, Draco stepped between them.

"Go away, Malfoy!"

"You’re in my way, Weasley." Draco didn’t know if he was referring to the road, or the girl.

"What way would that be? There is no road here."

"Yes there is, you just can’t see it."

"Oh, that’s just fantastic, Malfoy. Do you honestly expect us to get off the trail and into the forest just because you say there is a road here?"

"That would be a good summary, yes."

"Forget about it," Ron said with a particularly nasty tone. "I don’t trust you."

"Walking off the trail does sound a little dangerous, Draco," Hermione contributed.

"I’m telling you, there’s a trail right here. It’s only visible if you have one of these." Draco exposed the Dark Mark on his arm. "Potter, tell them there’s -," Draco’s voice faded. "Where is Potter?"

Hermione’s knees nearly gave way. She turned her head slowly towards the way they came from. It was dark and very empty. "Harry!" she called from the top of her lungs. A few moments ago she was crying because she felt she had lost him, and now she really had. "Harry!"

Harry came into view with lightening speed, rushing in from a turn down the road. He was with them seconds later. "What’s wrong?"

"What’s wrong?" said Hermione angrily. "You disappeared in the middle of the Forbidden Forest! ‘What’s wrong’ indeed!"

"I was right behind you," Harry said defensively. He lowered his voice so only Hermione could hear him. "I didn’t think you wanted me around."

Hermione felt stupid for her hysterical behaviour. "I do want you near. No, I don’t want you anywhere around me. Argh!" she called in frustration. She stomped her feet like a little girl. Her bruised knees almost crumpled underneath her, and felt even more stupid. This was an unusual experience for Hermione. She took a deep breath, and let the cold night air chill her feverish brain. "Go away, just don’t go too far."

Harry blinked at her suspiciously, this being the second time in the same day he had reason to believe that she was not all herself. The first time had been when she asked Malfoy for help, and look where that got him.

Draco pointed towards the turn he wished they’d take. "Potter, we’re going to follow this trail until we reach a hut. If you lose us, just continue with it until you reach the hut. We will be waiting for you there." Draco tried to ramble casually, in order to divert Potter from the main issue.

Harry nodded. It worked, thought Draco. "What trail?" Harry asked, after scanning the trees with a confused expression. Or maybe not.

"Don’t play games with me, Potter. I know you can see that trail." Draco glared at Harry. "Just follow it."

"I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about."

Draco felt three pairs of eyes stabbing him from every direction. He started towards the hut, showing his back to the group. "You can come with me, if you’d like, or you can stay stranded in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. There are still several hours till dawn."

Hermione followed Draco without hesitation. She had trusted him enough to follow him so far, there was no point in stopping now. No, trust was the wrong word. She rationalised that since Draco was in love with her, he would do nothing to hurt her. Ron came right after, not willing to leave Hermione with Malfoy. He considered placing a supportive arm around her waist, but decided against it, afraid of her reaction. Harry didn’t really care where they went. He resumed his shambling, this time careful not to lose the sight of Hermione’s back.

Surprisingly, after only a few minutes on the visible-to-Draco-only trail, a little hut popped up in front of them. It reminded Harry of Hagrid’s hut, with the difference of the scenery. True, you could see the forest from Hagrid’s kitchen window while making dinner. Harry just hoped that this wasn’t the case where the hut was visible while the forest was planning dinner.

Draco stopped the group several yards from their destination. "Let me go check the place first."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Is there someone in there you need to warn before we arrive?"

"Don’t be stupid, Weasley," said Draco, pleased to see that Hermione, too, fixed Ron with a dissatisfied stare. "If I wanted to warn someone inside, I could’ve just led you up there and made some noise. Wouldn’t have had to strain myself either. Making noise is something you’re good at."

With that, Draco left the group, putting out the light at the tip of his wand as he walked. He came back a few minutes later, to find everybody at exactly the same position as they were when he’d left.

"Let’s go before something here decides to have you for dinner," Draco said, moving his re-lightened wand around them in a circle.

"That means the coast is clear?" Ron made sure.

"It is now," stated Draco dryly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius had spent the last few hours watching his friend sleeping. Snape had released the bounding charms that held him, smartly doing so after he was out of Sirius’ reach. Sirius used his renewed ability to move to check on his peers. Since they seemed to be deep in a normal sleep, he let them be.

Sirius couldn’t tell how long it had been. The room contained nothing that indicated the passing time. He did know his limbs were completely numb by the time Arabella had begun to move. At first, she just winced slightly, producing delicate moans. Then, her eyelids fluttered, and she eventually opened her eyes. She seemed startled by the alien environment. She scanned the room, beginning at the low white ceiling, and moving downwards. Her eyes paused for a moment on Mundungus, who had just started to move, and then stopped on Sirius.

"Mornin’ Arabella," Sirius said.

Arabella let out an anguished grunt and shut her eyes again.

"Horrible headache, huh? Had one too. It’s about to get much worse once I tell you where we are."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco left the door to the hut ajar, and they all walked through it. Harry was the last one to enter. He closed the door behind him, and released a sigh of relief. He was happy to leave the hundreds hungry eyes of the forest outside the cosy hut.

One look around was enough to realise that the hut wasn’t as cosy from the inside as it had looked from the outside. The wall in front of him had one large silver fireplace in the middle, and the rest of it, as were two of the other walls, was covered with shelves. On top of the shelves, in a very orderly manner, were lines upon lines of small flames, burning in a unified green. The fourth wall had jars stacked by it, but it was mostly missing, which led Harry to believe it opened up to more rooms.

Hermione walked over to one of the small flames. It looked like fire, but it was green. It didn’t feel hot. Actually, the room was relatively cold for a place with so much fire burning. She raised a hand to check the warmth of the flame.

"I wouldn’t touch that if I were you," Draco whispered in her ear, standing very close behind her.

Hermione felt a shiver starting at the delicate hair behind her ear, and spreading towards the rest of her body. "Why not?" Her voice quaked more than she had anticipated.

"Because," Draco began patiently, pronouncing each syllable separately, making a point of almost touching Hermione’s ear with his lips, "It would alert the Death Eater who’s connected to this specific flame." Hermione shivered.

"You’re cold," whispered Draco. "Here." He opened his cloak and wrapped it around both of them, holding Hermione from behind. When she was well-wrapped and warm, he kept his arms around her, and started nuzzling the scruff of her neck. Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side, allowing him an easier access.

Draco felt a strong tug from behind, but worse, he felt Harry’s existence inside him. "I told you to get your hands off her!" Harry howled, a little off from Draco’s touch in his soul.

"That’s none of your business, Potter! And anyway, she was cold. I was just helping her get warmer."

"You? Help her get warmer? You’re colder than a snowman, Malfoy. If she’s that cold, I’ll give her my cloak. In its unoccupied form."

"I’m not that cold," Hermione interrupted the grapple. "Honestly."

"You were shivering," Draco insisted.

Hermione knew exactly why she was shivering. "It was because of what you said about the flames," she said. It was actually more because of the distance from which he had said it.

"All right," said Draco, taking a step backward. "I think we should all get a few hours of rest before we go on." He scanned the exhausted faces around him with a vain smirk. "I think I’ll take the first watch."

"Forget about it, Malfoy," said Ron. "I don’t trust you to watch over me while I’m asleep."

"If you haven’t noticed, Weasley, we’re in the communications centre of You-Know-Who. All I have to do, is pass my hand through these flames, and the place will be swarming with Death Eaters." Draco made a threatening gesture towards one of the shelves.

Ron went completely white and his freckles jumped into hiding. "Don’t do that."

"What? This?" Draco waved his hand even closer to the flames.

Ron jumped on him, and grabbed his hand, pinning it to the side of his body. Draco swirled in his place, turned his back to Ron, and stabbed his elbow hard in Ron’s side. Ron’s ribs made a sickening cracking noise. He folded to the ground, dragging Draco with him. They both started rolling on the floor, trying and succeeding to hurt each other as much as they could.

Hermione looked at them with a detached feeling, as if this was a weird dream. With horror, she suddenly realised they were about to roll into one of the larger fires burning in the room. "Harry!" she called to the one person in the room that still seemed sane.

There was no need for Hermione to call him. Harry rushed towards the wrestling mess the second he understood they weren’t joking. He grabbed a handful of filled silky robes in each hand, and pulled.

Harry fell backward, and found himself sitting beneath a very flustered Draco Malfoy. He miscalculated the strength it would take to untangle the scuffling knot. He saw Ron relax his muscles, having Malfoy’s weight removed from his chest. Ron rested on his back, and stretched his long arms to the side. He almost placed his hand inside the largest flame, when Hermione jumped in and stopped it.

Hermione felt so relieved she was able to block Ron’s hand in time, that she collapsed beside him, still hugging his hand.

Ron was moved. Hermione seemed like someone who was just saved from his worst nightmare. "I’m all right," he assured her.

"Huh?" said Hermione. She was still too engrossed in her mental image of the room being filled with black-robed and masked evil wizards. "Oh." She realised she still had Ron’s hand, and released it. "I’m sorry for jumping on you, Ron, but you were about to stick your hand in that flame."

Ron, who up until now found her nursing him rather endearing, paled to the verge of blue. "What... which flame?" he stammered. He looked to the side and saw it behind Hermione’s back. He shuddered, and released a tiny weep. "I’m glad you stopped me."

Hermione got to her feet, a very determined look on her face. She looked down at Ron. "Ron, go to sleep. Draco will watch us for two hours, and than you’ll take his place. Harry, get out from under Draco. You’re going to bed, too. And so am I." An unpleasant thought just occurred to her. "Draco, how many bedrooms does this place have?"

"Enough," answered Draco, not showing any intention to get off Harry. "Just don’t take the second one on the left."

"Why?"

"Because that one’s already occupied."

"You mean - you want it?"

"Yes. That’s it. That room is mine."

"Oh, I see. Well, good night everybody." She followed Ron, who had already left, accepting her authority.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"If I ask nicely, would you get off me?"

"Beg."

"What?!"

"Beg me to get off you. You’re the one who got us to this position in the first place. Come on, beg."

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"If you wish to live to see the light of day, I suggest you get up now."

"When you put it that way." Draco heaved himself with deliberation.

"You didn’t have to stick that elbow in my thigh, you know."

"I needed to lean against something."

"You did it after you were already on your feet. You actually bent over to do it."

"Next time, you should try the begging."

Harry gave Malfoy one last glare, and left the room, walking with a slight limp. He felt anticipation beginning to well inside him. It had been a while since he last slept, and he was looking forward to the wonderful dreams that lately filled his nights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hermione, wake up."

"Wha- what? Is that you, Harry?" Hermione tried to give a shape to the blur that was shaking her shoulder.

"No, It’s Draco."

Hermione sat bolt upright, rubbing her eyes to chase away the sleep. "What are you doing here, Draco?"

"It’s your turn to take the watch."

"I thought Ron was supposed to replace you."

"That’s what you said, yes. But if you think I’m going into Weasley’s bedroom, you’d better think again."

"This is stupid, Draco. It’s Ron’s turn to take the watch."

"Actually, I thought you’d say that, so I took his watch as well. You’ve all been sleeping for four hours now. It’s technically your turn."

"What?! It’s almost morning, then, and you didn’t get any sleep. You’ll be completely useless tomorrow."

"I’ll be fine. Won’t be my first white night." Draco sat on the edge of her bed and placed a hand on Hermione’s upper arm. "Thanks for worrying, though."

Hermione was still very warm from the sleep, and his hand was like the rush of cold water. She instinctively covered it with her palm, trying to warm it up a bit. Draco wrapped his other hand around her, his chest pressing against hers, trapping her hand between them.

Draco used the dim pre-dawn light to stare deep into her eyes. They were warm, and tender, and reminded him somewhat of what Harry’s soul had felt like. He pushed away the thought about Harry, and concentrated in Hermione’s eyes. They were a rich shade of brown, and seemed anticipating.

Hermione felt Draco’s gaze piercing her heart. She wanted to push him away, but found herself completely enthralled by his eyes. His pupils were extremely dilated, which made them almost completely black, with the thinnest ring of silver in the rim, to indicate he had an iris.

She knew where this was leading. Held tightly in his arms, she wasn’t able to fight against his grip and against the wishes of her own body at the same time. "Get away from me, Malfoy," she said, struggling to form the words.

Draco didn’t say anything, he didn’t move, either. He just kept holding her, pressing against her even harder. He closed his eyes, and began leaning closer, his breath sending waves of chill from Hermione’s cheeks, going up and down her entire body.

"Don’t you dare try and kiss me," she choked.

He opened his eyes and looked at her haughtily. His pupils shrank a bit, and she was able to see some more of the silver around them. "Are you sure?" he whispered, every syllable puffing another wave of chill on Hermione.

As much as she wanted, Hermione was no longer able to speak. She groaned her answer, and tried to turn away her head. Draco took his hand off her arm, and placed it on her nape, forcing her head forward. He ignored her faint protest, and pressed his mouth hard against hers. He felt her lips spread in acceptance. Slowly, he started teasing her tongue with his, galvanising her with each strike. His explorations of her mouth became longer with each of his entries, and he felt her completely melting under his kiss.

When he felt the kiss was just right, Draco moved his head slightly backwards. He felt Hermione’s weight pressing heavily against his embracing arm. He released some of the force with which he supported her, and she slumped back into her bed, her body weak and shaky. Draco gave her a charming smile before leaning forward and kissing her again.

When the second kiss was over, Hermione felt a familiar Filibuster Firework fizzing in her stomach, ready to blast. She remained lying on the bed, pressed under Draco’s weight, flushed, and confused. No, not confused. She was down right outraged. How dare he make her feel like that? The arrogant brat thinks he could just take her by storm. He believes everything would just go his way. He –

He kissed her again. This time, Hermione used her free hand to move it through his hair. It was softer than his silk robes. It felt like mercury between her fingers – fluid, soft, elusive. When the kiss was done, she didn’t want to let go. And then she remembered – Malfoy. True, ever since his confession in the library, she knew he wouldn’t do anything to harm her. She trusted him with her and Harry’s life for that, but that did not include this. She collected every shred of self-control she had, and pushed him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry fell asleep almost instantly. He found a room next to Hermione’s that contained a large four-poster and a sink. He washed himself up a bit, got dressed again, in case he needed to jump into action in a hurry and plonked onto the four-poster bed. The mattress was soft and welcoming, and Harry was immediately wrapped in the warm feeling of his dreams.

He was flying with his father again. They reached together the last of an incredible number of Snitches, and were about to fly back towards their home. Harry knew the feeling of home – it smelled like his mother’s cooking and his father’s mischievous tricks. Harry loved it. He loved the vast grounds outside it, with the roses his mother had kept. He loved its green tiles, and the silver eaves that decorated it...

Harry woke up with a start. It took him a few seconds to return to reality and realise what it was that woke him. This was exactly what Malfoy was talking about. The green and silver. It was in every one of his sweet dreams. Was this really Voldemort’s signature?

Odd noises coming from Hermione’s room took Harry’s mind off the dream. He sat bolt up right and listened. He heard it again, but couldn’t make out what it was. He got out of his bed, and stalked towards Hermione’s room, his wand held in front of him.

Without a light from his wand, Harry could see almost nothing out of the ordinary. There was nobody standing in the room, and the only moving figure has that of Hermione, on the bed. Or was it really Hermione?

"Go away, Malfoy," Harry heard Hermione’s voice, quivery and choked.

Without giving it a second thought, Harry darted forward and grabbed the figure that was crouching over Hermione’s bed. By now, he was able to make out Malfoy’s silver hair at the edge of that figure. He hurled Malfoy well into the opposite wall, and had his wand ready in his hand, pointing it steadily at Malfoy.

Hermione seemed to have recovered very quickly. "Don’t do it, Harry!" she called with an urgent edge to her voice. "It’s not what you think."

"Where you consenting to him being in your bed?" asked Harry. His tone indicated that he was very sure about her answer.

"No, but –"

"Than it’s exactly what I think," Harry ruled. He raised his wand, a curse starting to form on his lips. He had decided to hit Malfoy with an extremely vicious skin-bubbles hex.

Hermione grabbed his wand hand from behind. "Don’t do it, please."

Malfoy was just then able to draw a first breath after having it blown out of him when he hit the wall. With the breath, he drew his wand, and directed it at Harry. "Expelliarmus," he coughed out.

Harry was so busy fighting over his wand with Hermione that he didn’t even notice Malfoy’s spell. He did fell a strong tug at his wand that didn’t seem to have been the product of Hermione’s pulls, but she pulled in every direction, so he might have been wrong.

Finally, Harry was able to release his wand from Hermione’s hands. With one great swing, he sent her toppling to the floor with empty hands. He witnessed Malfoy looking strangely at his wand, but nevertheless, keeping it pointing at him. It was obvious that Malfoy, although confused, was about to lash a curse at him. Harry wouldn’t give him the chance. He began mumbling the words of a counter-curse, and was barely able to hold it back when Hermione placed herself in front of him.

"Move over, Hermione," Harry grumbled.

"No."

"What’s going on in here?" came Ron’s voice from the door.

Only then, Harry noticed that Hermione had her wand in her hand and she, too, was pointing it at him. Malfoy rose slowly from the floor, and took her side. He was standing very close to her, his upper arm brushing her shoulder. They were wearing matching masks of determination.

"I thought that Malfoy was attacking Hermione, but I was wrong," Harry spat in answer to Ron’s question. "She’s with him. I should have realised it yesterday. Malfoy can’t convert, it’s Hermione who’s changed sides." All the while he was talking, he didn’t take his eyes of the pair in front of him.

"It’s the mistletoe curse," mumbled Ron.

"You’re going too far," Draco stated coldly. He took a step forward, half hiding Hermione behind him. Then Ron’s whisper sank in. "What mistletoe curse?"

"The one from Potions class," whined Ron. "I didn’t think it would work so fast." Ron shook his head sadly.

"But I saw Potter give Hermione his feeble excuse for a kiss," insisted Draco. The floating image of that moment made his brain steam. He felt now, as he had then, the rabid heat of jealousy. He steadied his wand, making it more obvious where it was pointing.

"It was too late," Ron continued his wail. "He had the mistletoe down before he did." He shook his head again, and looked down, unwilling to watch one of his best friends kill the other. "I knew it was too late. I hoped -" he trailed off.

"Oh," said Draco. "stupefy".

Although Harry had anticipated some move on Malfoy’s side, he was still caught by surprise by the stunning spell. He didn’t form a counter-curse in time, and barely managed to deflect it with his wand. Still, he tossed it back at him, sending Malfoy hard into the wall for the second time in a few-minutes interlude. Oddly, Malfoy wasn’t completely stunned, but he was rendered breathless and completely out of action.

Hermione screamed and darted at Harry, casting a Bluebell Flame at him. She had become quite good with it, and although Harry was able to ward off most of the wide Bluebell, the hem of his cloak caught on fire. He put it off with a thrash of his hand, and looked up at Hermione, not as much enraged as deeply offended. She was standing close to him, examining the result of her handiwork. Her wand was pointing at his neck. Harry rose slowly to his full height, moving his gaze from Hermione’s wand, staring deep into her eyes. He didn’t recognise the girl who started back at him. There was an unfamiliar furious spark deep in her earthly brown eyes.

Without taking his eyes off Hermione, Harry shifted his posture a little, so it would be clear he was talking to Ron. "Are you sure about that curse?"

Ron released a tiny whimper that sounded frighteningly close to a ‘yes’.

Harry’s shoulders slumped, and he let his wand drop to the floor. It landed with a sharp ‘clink’ that sounded too metallic for a wooden wand on a stone floor. "I’m not going to kill you, Hermione." He lowered his eyes to his wand on the floor. "Get it over with."

"Get what over with?" asked Hermione, not lowering her own wand.

"The killing thing. You heard Ron. This won’t be over until you kill me. So just do it."

"That’s stupid, Harry. None of us has to kill the other."

"You just sent a potentially deadly curse at me, and I was about to do the same. I don’t want to end up killing you, and let’s face it -" he looked up at her again, and noticed that her wand was still pointing at his neck. "If you don’t grab this opportunity, judging by what happened to Cho, that’s the more likely option."

Hermione’s face screwed up in disbelief. "You don’t fool me, Harry. I’ve seen you pull this helpless act before. You’re just waiting for me to fall sobbing into your lap, and than you’ll hit me like you did Draco." She gave Malfoy’s collapsed figure a quick gaze before looking at Harry again. Her eyes were welling up with tears. "I know now why you tried to lie to me after taking the Veritaserum."

Harry closed his eyes. He felt a cloud of numbness sinking on him. His heart was racing rapidly. This was all Malfoy’s fault. If he hadn’t asked that question, if he hadn’t made Harry realise h loved Hermione, none of this would happen. The rage that he had missed before, was building up inside the haze that had his thoughts. Through it, he heard Hermione’s far-away voice: "stupefy".

Harry’s legs had surrendered to his weight, and he fell to the floor. He expected darkness to envelope him, but it never came. After giving it enough time, and finally accepting that it wasn’t coming, Harry opened his eyes. He was sitting on the floor. Malfoy still lay by the opposite wall, Ron was still standing by the door, but he was whiter than ever. His mouth and eyes were open to equal saucer size. Very close to him was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, as still as the stone on which she fell.

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