Abyss

Abyss

Draco inched closer to Granger as they followed Potter towards the house Longbottom directed them to. Ridiculous as it might seem, he actually felt... apprehensive... at the thought of being surrounded by goody-goody Gryffindors and their goody-goody professors. No, he thought, shaking his head. Apprehensive wasn't the right term. More like suffocated. He bet he was the only Slytherin in this place. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs he could handle, but a whole lot of Gryffindors? Unconsciously, he lifted a hand and pulled at his neckline a bit.

As if sensing his discomfort, Granger stopped walking and turned to him. "Malfoy?" she asked, her voice soft and tender. She placed a hand on his arm. "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

He feigned surprise at her question. "Nothing," he denied, looking away. He never really did figure out when and how he lost his power to lie to her. Before, lies could come from his mouth without as much as a thought. Now, though, things were different. At least, things were different when it concerned her. "What made you think something's wrong?" He glanced at her.

She drew her brows together, and continued her somewhat analytical gazing. "You're sweating," she pointed out.

"I'm sweating because it's hot," he reasoned, wiping at his forehead for good measure. "And have you forgotten? We just came from a long walk."

Granger pursed her lips, and crossed her arms in front of her. The sight was both annoying and endearing, he must admit. Annoying because he knew she knew something was bothering him. Endearing because he knew that look was only for him.

Bloody bleeding hell, he thought, scowling. What in hell am I thinking? I've finally lost it. Or it's the fumes. I've definitely inhaled too much smoke. Blasted fire. Oh, damn it. Draco looked away, and saw that Potter had just opened the door and stepped inside the house, leaving him and Granger outside. "Stupid Wonder Gi--"

"Also, you're not looking at me when you're talking. And you're scowling, too. Do you want me to continue?"

He rolled his eyes. "And that's enough reason for you to suspect that--"

"Just tell me what's bothering you, damn it!"

Her voice was so loud, Potter returned to them. He stood on the doorway. "Are you coming inside or not?"

"We are," Draco said, at exactly the same time that Granger said, "We're not."

They looked at each other, their eyes challenging, a battle of wills done without touch or words.

"Better find a way to quickly settle whatever it is going on between you two, because I just found out that a convention is about to start," Potter spoke. "I'll leave the door open in case someone won in your little debate." True enough, when he went inside he left a small gap that prevented the door from closing shut.

A few minutes leisurely passed by. He counted the times her toes touched the ground as she tapped her foot rhythmically. He counted the times he would glance at her, only to find her staring at him seriously. "Look," Draco said, waving his hands around impatiently. "Nothing's wrong, all right? I'm fine."

Though there were still lines creasing her forehead, and that mouth of hers pressed on a thin line, she nodded. "All right," she said, sighing. She was obviously reluctant to give up this time. "But you do know you could tell me anything, right? After all we've been through together, there's no point in keeping secrets from each other."

He smiled. "I'm touched by your concern, however unwanted it may be at this moment."

She shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. Have it your way, then."

That was when he noticed a fine streak of soot on her left cheek. He reached out and stroked his thumb over her skin, removing the offending dirt from her. She kept looking at him, her eyes unmoving as he did. Draco kept his focus on his task, not wanting to entertain sinister thoughts the simple act was bringing upon him. At least, not wanting to entertain them now.

Damn fumes, he thought, shoving his hands inside his pockets. "So can we go inside now? I could just imagine your housemates waiting impatiently in there for you."

She was quiet for a moment. "This is about that, isn't it?" she asked, voice soft and tender once again.

"What's that?" he asked, wondering just what she figured out.

But instead of answering, though, she smiled at him, brilliantly showing off her teeth. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't let them bite you. If you want, I'll even hold your hand when we go inside."

Her perceptiveness startled him, bringing a halt to all his thoughts altogether. How on earth could she have known what he was thinking? Draco blinked at her, not knowing what to say.

Granger chuckled. "Now you're wondering how come I know what you are thinking," she said, reaching out to tuck several strands of hair behind his ear. "I know you, Malfoy. Believe me, being stuck with you through all this time, I am confident to say that I know you inside out. Maybe in the future I could write a book about you. Do you think it would sell?"

"Like chocolate frogs," he said, basking in her humor. "But I really doubt that you know me that well, Granger. Maybe some day, I'll challenge that theory."

"Anytime Malfoy," she said, taking his hand and leading him inside the house. "Anytime."

*

Truth be told, Hermione was anxious herself. She glanced at her hand, which was curled around Malfoy's, and she found the comfort and reassurance she needed. She read somewhere before that holding hands was the most intimate act a person could do with another person without it being overtly sexual. She always dismissed it as some writer's technique of overdoing things, adding undertones where one should not.

Now, though, she thought that writer was indeed correct.

And just as she was entertaining these thoughts, she rammed them shut, not wanting to think more about things she might just be imagining to be between them. It would hurt her, not to mention humiliate her, if she assumed too much, and then only to find out that in the end... stop it!

Hermione pushed the door with her free hand, and took in the sight of the spacious hall, as well as the people inside. As though on cue, they all faced her and smiled. Some faces she could recognize, some she could not. But the happiness she felt, at finding people who lived to be here, was a feeling that filled her up from head to toe and made her grin in pleasure.

She squeezed the hand she held, and it squeezed back.

"Oh, Miss Granger!" a voice said from her left. As she turned, Hermione noticed the deep green robes before it smothered her as she was pulled for a brief hug. When the person withdrew from her she was shocked to see that it was Professor McGonagall. The elderly witch removed her eyeglasses for a moment and dabbed at her eyes. "It is so wonderful to see you."

"Professor McGonagall," she said, her own eyes filling with tears. It had been too long, she realized. Too long before she saw another woman who did not look at her with contempt, who did not want to kill her with a flick of her wand. "Oh professor, it's good to see you again."

Professor McGonagall nodded, briefly smiling. Her eyes lifted off of Hermione and focused behind her. Was it just her imagination, or did the professor actually pursed her lips and frowned? "Mr. Malfoy," she acknowledged, nodding.

"Professor," Malfoy answered.

"Oh, look at you two, you're both covered in filth!" the professor said, taking out her wand. She muttered a cleaning spell and all the smell and feel of smoke, soot, and fire deserted Hermione. She glanced at Malfoy, and found him cleansed as well. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Oh, Hermione!"

She spun to see Susan Bones opening her arms and hugging her tight. Hermione was surprised; it wasn't as though she and the Hufflepuff were that close. "Hi, Susan," she said, somewhat uncomfortable. "How are you?"

"Oh, Hermione," Susan said, pulling away. Her smile was so wide it caused the tips of her mouth to reach her ears. "I'm so glad you're alive! I thought you were dead because they said Malfoy--"

The tears in her eyes disappeared. The Hufflepuff need not finish her sentence; the meaning was very evident. "Obviously I'm not dead. And, quite obviously, Malfoy didn't kill me. Did you?" she asked, turning to the stoic boy behind her.

Susan blinked, looking back and forth from her and Malfoy. "No, right, I-I mean, I wasn't implying anything, it's just that..."

"It's just that, what?" Hermione demanded, her tone sharp.

"Granger," Malfoy intervened, slightly pulling at her arm. "The poor girl was just saying she's glad you're alive."

"Yes! Yes, that was exactly what I was saying," Susan said, nodding repeatedly.

"Good," Hermione said, coolly. "I'm glad you're alive too."

There was a very awkward silence that followed the exchange. Then, the Hufflepuff mentioned something about needing to be somewhere else before she departed.

Hermione shook her head. "It's so annoying how some people could just be so--"

"Look, it's Hermione!"

She whirled around to see Seamus and Dean moving towards her. "Hey, Seamus, Dean," she said, smiling politely. "How are you both?"

"The question is, how are you?" Seamus said, casting a meaningful glance behind her.

"You sure you're not under any spell from Malfoy, Hermione?" Dean said, taking out his wand and brandishing it around. "You know, all you need to do is say it and we'll make the smarmy git disappear."

"The smarmy git could hear you both, you twits," Malfoy said. He stepped beside Hermione and lifted their intertwined hands. "Does this seem to you like she's under my spell? If anything, I'm the prisoner around here."

"Mal--"

"You better control that tongue, Malfoy, or I may not hold myself back and kill you," Dean said, squinting his eyes at the Slytherin.

"We may not hold back and kill you," Seamus said, taking out his own wand as well. "We're authorized to kill enemies within our sight, you know."

Malfoy exhaled aloud, not looking concerned at the death threats hurled at his face. "Why is it that every bloody Gryffindor I know wants to kill me?"

"Because you're an evil, conniving, dirty bastard, and the world could stand to lose another like you," Dean answered, his mouth twisted in hate. "In fact, I may just do the world a favor by eliminating yo--"

"All right, that's ENOUGH!" Hermione said, pulling her hand free from Malfoy's. She felt all her blood rushing to her head, and she saw red. "First off, thank you for your concern, but I am fine. Second, I'm insulted to hear that you think I'm under Malfoy's spell, for surely you both know I'm stronger than that. And last, I don't want to hear any one of you insulting Malfoy, do you hear? I may not have a wand but I sure do know ways to make you both feel cursed." She glared at her two housemates who looked surprised at her outburst. "Well?"

"Come on," Dean said to Seamus. He glared at Malfoy before turning to her. "Let's find other people who haven't lost their minds yet."

"Aye," Seamus said. "See you around, Hermione. Malfoy."

Dean grabbed Seamus's arm and together they left the other two alone, disappearing behind a group of elderly wizards.

"You're right," Malfoy said, taking her hand again. When Hermione turned to him, she found him to be grinning widely. "I don't have to worry about them biting me. You're the one who's doing all the biting around here."

"I just hate it when people imply things," she answered, pulling her hand away. Her temper still badly frayed, she wasn't entirely in the mood to touch or be touched right now. "That's all."

"You mean you hate it when people imply me doing something to you," he said. When she glared at him, Malfoy raised his hands in self-defense. "I'm just saying you don't have to hide anything from me, Granger. I could read you like an open book too, you know. And as for the 'doing something to you' part--"

"Oh, do shut up." She looked away, feeling heat on her cheeks.

At that moment, Harry emerged from the crowd and joined them. "All right, Hermione?" he asked. "You look a bit shaken up. Do you want some water?"

"I'm fine," she dismissed.

"Potter," Malfoy said. "I thought you told me if I behave then no one would dare point their wands at me again? You seem to have forgotten your end of the deal."

"Why?" Harry asked, looking at the Slytherin, amusement on his face. "Who's been threatening to kill you?"

"Seamus and Dean," Hermione answered, crumpling her palms to fists. "I never thought those two were arrogant little gits." She got distracted when she saw Dumbledore step away from a witch he was talking to.

"They're not!" Harry said. "Maybe they're just--"

"Shh!" she said, waving her hand quickly. "I think Dumbledore's about to speak."

True enough, the Headmaster stood on the center of the hall, and his very presence commanded the attention of everyone. "Aurors, professors, students," he began, looking around him. "I am very much delighted to see that you have all escaped from the Death Eaters, and are safe once again. Though we have outsmarted them, we must not be overconfident and underestimate the powers of our enemies. To escape them once is pure luck. To escape them twice is ingenious. To escape them thrice might be impossible to do." He paused for a moment, as if gauging the effect of his words. When no one spoke, he continued. "We cannot lie in silence any longer. We cannot let them destroy the world that every one of us has the responsibility to protect. That is why I propose that an attack be made as soon as possible."

Murmurs filled the hall to the brim, made by the people who, though expecting it, were not anticipating its arrival to be so swift.

"An attack?" Hermione repeated, echoing the word that was in the other wizards' and witches' mouths as well.

"When?" Malfoy asked, looking distressed at the announcement.

"I am not one to resort to violence when it is not necessary, especially since this war would include those whose years are not yet ripe on our side," Dumbledore fixed his eyes at Hermione, Malfoy, and Harry, "as well as on theirs. However," he continued, looking away, "in all things sacrifices has to be done. In order to achieve victory, much has to be risked. And in order to achieve this victory, we must utilize the one advantage we have over our enemies."

"We have an advantage?" A wizard on Hermione's left asked.

"Of course we do, we have Dumbledore!" Harry loyally defended.

"We have the element of surprise on our side," the Headmaster said, walking in a little circle in order to talk and make eye contact with everyone in the room. "As much as we didn't anticipate their attack on us, they must not anticipate our attack on them. But aside from this tactic, we must employ everything, absolutely everything in our power to defeat the Death Eaters. We must put a stop to the destruction that is reigning in our world!" A loud cheer greeted the last few words, Hermione's and Harry's the loudest of them. "We must put an end to the evil that Voldemort has unleashed upon us, and we will start with reclaiming Hogwarts!"

At this, the applause and shouts from the audience were so loud, Hermione had to cover her ears to protect her eardrums from shattering.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said in an attempt to squash the noise down. "A plan has indeed been formalized, and I call on Severus to relay to you the important details of this attack. Severus?"

From the opposite corner of the room, Snape emerged from the crowd as though a shadow from a colorful garden. His face was unusually blank and his lips were not curled into his patented expression that made its absence all the more noticeable. "The plan to attack is relatively simple," he began. "We have decided to group the wizards and witches in this room in order to mobilize them in different areas of the school. A leader will be appointed to head each group, and that leader is responsible for the welfare of everyone beneath him. Each member's responsibility, in turn, is to follow the leader's orders and to eliminate all enemies within his sight."

"Eliminate all enemies within sight," Hermione said, feeling a cold tremor pass from the back of her neck to the lowest part of her spine. She knew what that order meant, and that knowledge filled her with fear and trepidation.

"Chosen through expertise and experience the leaders are: Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Sinistra, and myself, the Aurors Moody, Tonks, Arthurs, Sylvinia, Augustus, Garrison, Leon, Klein, and Smith, and finally, Misters Weasleys--"

"Weasley!" she exclaimed. The mere word stopped her from hearing the other names altogether. She turned to Harry and clutched at his robe "Did you hear? Weasley..."

Harry nodded. "I guess I never did mention it," he said, instantly looking sorry. "Bill and Charlie are here."

Hermione felt her whole body tremble. "I have to talk to them later," she said, withdrawing her hold on him. "I have to."

"--and now that we know their names, it is time for us to know who among them each of us will be following. At any moment now your wands would glow and point you to their direction, as a name would emerge on it. But do not worry; it is only a spell, as we need all wands to be intact."

And, exactly as Snape said Harry and Malfoy's wands glowed. The word 'Snape' appeared on Harry's, whereas on Malfoy's a 'B. Weasley' was written.

"Great," Malfoy said, tucking his wand with a little too much force. "Now I'm to follow a Weasley."

"At least you have someone to follow," Hermione spoke. "But there's absolutely no way in hell that I'm going to be left behind in this."

Harry opened his mouth in protest. "Hermione--"

"You have to be," Malfoy said, looking very grave. "Granger, this is a bloody war. Those with wands are still likely to die, and those without wands are going on a damned suicide mission. There's absolutely no way in hell that I'm going to let you go."

"But--"

"I'm afraid I would have to side with Mr. Malfoy on this one, Miss Granger."

She turned to find Dumbledore on their side. "Professor!" she said, not missing the relieved expression on Malfoy's face. "I know I don't have a wand, but please, give me a chance! I could fight!"

The Headmaster smiled at her. "I know you very well could," he said. "Your knowledge and abilities would be very invaluable to us, Miss Granger. That is why..." He fished out a wand from his robe, and handed it to her. "...this wand seemed to have been crafted for you."

With shaking hands Hermione took the wand. It seemed to be the perfect replica of her lost wand; from the size down to the rough edges that stuck out when she held it. "I...I don't know what to say," she said. "This... this feels like my wand, but I... I lost mine so long ago..."

"It is your wand," Dumbledore told her.

She looked at him. "How could it be? Mine was left at Hogwarts..."

"Well," the Headmaster said, smiling and tossing a meaningful glance at Malfoy. "Not everyone that shops at Vandel's is a follower of the Dark Lord."

"Well congratulations, Granger. Now we all get to die. I have a question," Malfoy said, turning to Dumbledore. "We've all been told about the leaders and all, but I still don't know when we are going to attack."

Dumbledore nodded at Snape. "Severus is just about to reveal that."

"--I don't need to tell you the severity of the situation, seeing that you have seen for yourselves how much everything changed around us. A fight calls to us, and this call we cannot ignore any longer. Therefore, with the permission of our Headmaster, as well as the consent of all the leaders appointed tonight, I say that the attack would be done... tomorrow evening."