Harry Potter 1. Bitter Chill

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am but a humble supplicant at the feet of the great JK Rowling. All I have is 38 cents, a Bazooka Joe comic and the lyrics to Darling Nikki in my pocket so please don't sue me.  
  
Chapter 1 - Bitter Chill  
  
"If memory serves me Ms. Granger, your partner is Mr. Longbottom and not Mr. Malfoy. Is there any particular reason why you are pestering one of my most exemplary students?" Snape asked in his most chilling tone of voice.  
  
All eyes were now focused on the mismatched pair. As Snape and his billowing robes bore down upon the two, the air in the classroom grew heavy with silence and tension. Hermione inhaled in an attempt to center herself, but it was apparent she was ready to strike out with a blistering tirade.  
  
Hermione trembled with rage and firmly gripped the scalpel in her hand. The desire to plunge the object into the potions master's back was overwhelming. Were it not for Draco Malfoy's firm grip on her hand and his quelling stare on her face, Hermione could not say for sure that she would have resisted the impulse. The exchange between the sworn enemies was quick and nondescript. The only people keen enough to notice were Ron Weasly, Harry Potter, and Professor Snape himself. None of the three men viewed the interplay with charitable eyes. Snape's eyes narrowed at the silent solidarity before lashing out at the young woman once again.  
  
"Perhaps, the Gryffindor know-it-all doesn't know everything after all. Twenty points from Gryffindor for obstructing the education of another student and twenty-five to Slytherin for aiding someone less knowledgeable. You might stand to fashion some of your prefecting duties after Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. Prefects are to patrol in order to capture rule breaking students, not abuse their power to enable their own disregard for regulations. The Baron tells me he has seen a certain nappy-headed girl bearing a remarkable resemblance to you, running amok at night near the Slytherin dorms in a most unbecoming fashion. Have you nothing to say on this matter Ms. Granger?"  
  
Hermione pierced the potions master with a disturbingly blank expression and only delivered a simple "Why no Professor," in an equally noncommittal tone after being prodded in the back by young Malfoy. Snape tut-tutted before silkily delivering a simple rejoinder on how difficult he found that to believe. Something flashed in her eyes then and it was faintly mirrored in Malfoy's as well. It was elemental, far removed from human and for the first time Severus Snape felt a chill in his own dungeons and a deep seated unease within these hallowed walls of Hogwarts.  
  
He had seen something unnatural developing between the two prefects after an incident at the beginning of term, but now like a ball of curdled milk in the pit of his stomach, Snape realized a true threat lay in his alliance. He did not trust the junior Malfoy any more than the senior and now his wariness extended to Ms. Granger. They were hiding something dark and deep in his bones Snape knew no one would be ready for what they might unleash. 


	2. The Lines We Cannot See

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but sometimes I sneak into JK Rowling's back yard to play with them.  
  
Chapter 2 - The Lines We Cannot See  
Ronald Weasley was not a quiet boy by nature. In fact, if the truth were told he was prone to loud outbursts, expansive gestures and a volatile temperament. But at this moment he could be found sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room playing chess with one of his best friends, Harry Potter. The untrained eye would believe that the redheaded Gryff was pensive and silent due to a deep absorption in the game. The untrained eye would be wrong. Everyone at Hogwarts knew Ron and his chess pieces were full of bravado and taunting comments when playing. Harry Potter was in no better shape. He was also sullen and withdrawn. His knight and bishop were settling in for a nap, since over twenty minutes had passed and Harry had yet to look at the board or make a move. After another ten minutes Ron closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up it was to pierce Harry with a look full of sorrow and frustration. Were it not for his own preoccupation with similar emotions, Harry would have been taken aback by the sheer impact of that gaze.  
  
As one they began to pack away the old chess set and its pieces. After the last pawn was placed in the velvet lining of the beautiful antique chest that Hermione had bought Ron for his last birthday, the sixth year Weasley ran a tender hand over the engraved lid before shutting it with a resounding click. The sound worked as a trigger for the repressed words between the two boys.  
  
"Something has to be done! We have to find out what is wrong with her. Something happened to her and for all our sakes we need to know."  
  
"This is not the time or the place for this conversation," Harry pronounced as he took Ron by the arm and dragged him up to their dorm room.  
  
"Harry we have to talk to her!" Ron quickly raised a silencing hand. "Hear me out. Hermione needs us. If the situation were reversed, she would never abandon us. She would push and prod and investigate and do something absolutely brilliant. She would never leave us in the care of a Malfoy just because Dumbledore told her to. She has more gumption than that and so do we. We need to act.now.tonight."  
  
Harry looked up to the ceiling as if seeking strength from a higher power.  
  
"Ron you need to listen and hear me for once in your life. Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of our time for a good reason. I trust him completely, so does Hermione and so should you. He knows light years more than we do and I know he has a good reason for telling us to back off. If he wants us to leave her the hell alone, then that is what we will bloody well do. I will not collaborate with you on some cockamamie half-arsed scheme, which will probably put Mione in greater danger than she's already in. You know, I wish just once you would let your head rather than your arse lead the way."  
  
"Bull Dumbledore and fucking bull you too Harry. You know I'm not the same immature fuck-up I was even a year ago. You however, are exactly the same. You're still Dumbledore little lapdog. For the record, I love Hermione and I would never put her at risk.knowingly." Ron grimaced over his hesitation, briefly assailed by memories of a time when he couldn't protect her and unwittingly landed them all in this position. His eyes were shuttered and disdainful when they fell upon Harry. "If you didn't have your head stuck so far up Dumbledore's arse you would see that."  
  
Harry's left fist shot out and connected firmly with Ron's freckled face. Ron's gangly frame went careening backwards into a bedpost and before he could recover himself Harry's wand was pressed firmly against his throat. With the most ruthless eyes Ron had ever seen Harry looked at him and spoke through gritted teeth.  
  
"Watch yourself Ron. Friendship can only take us so far and excuse so much before you walk onto dangerous ground. Oh and for the record, I am just as loyal to Hermione as you and for that reason I will chance hurting your feelings if it stops you from fucking things up. Now if you don't have anything else to say, then why don't we abandon this entire conversation?" Harry punctuated this question by placing even further pressure on Ron's vulnerable throat.  
  
The young Weasley was taking shallow staccato breaths while his chocolate brown eyes looked warily into Harry's emerald glare. In a hoarse voice Ron managed to recall a modified line from a movie called Snatch that Hermione had made them watch. "All right now, just hold tight rude boy and put your fucking wand away."  
  
As attempts at levity went it was weak, but it managed to get Harry to step away and lower his wand with a shaky chuckle.  
  
"Look Ron I apologize, but we can't take any risks. She means too much. Right now Dumbledore is our one eyed man in the land of the blind. He may not see everything, but he does see more than we do. And you are absolutely right, Hermione would not have just abandoned us at Dumbledore's request, but she was not foolish either. She didn't make a single move without research and lots of it. We still have two hours until curfew and I still have the self-refreshing pass to the restricted section that Professor Zareb gave me when I started taking those extra DADA lessons. Right now this is the only constructive action we can take.now.tonight." Harry lightly mocked.  
  
Ron's face twisted into an unattractive grimace before asking.  
  
"To the library?"  
  
"To the library my friend."  
  
Harry gave his friend a conciliatory pat on the back as they strode out of their room and headed to the portrait hole. To all observers in the common room nothing seemed amiss, but both boys knew their friendship had taken some hard hits just now. The days and weeks ahead did not promise to be easy. 


	3. Darkness Falls

Disclaimer: This land is your land, this land is my land, but all things in Harry Potter Land belong to JK Rowling and her affiliates.  
  
Chapter 3 - Darkness Falls  
  
Dark days were coming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sybill Trelawney glanced over the Great Hall and saw psychic noise. Sometimes it was absolutely unbearable. She spent four years at Hogwarts with Delphina Adelaide and six years in Romania studying under Madame Esmilka two of the most powerful seers to date, but it was all to no end. The problem was never with Sybill's powers, far from it. Sybill Trelawney easily had more psychic ability in her pinky finger than any of her contemporaries combined. Her countless years of further tutelage still failed to afford Sybill the control necessary to skillfully wield her powers. Sure she could do basic probes and scans on specific people, but even these simple tasks were avoided. The shift from psychic potential to psychic energy was often incomplete or a complete disaster when she tried to go beyond the basics. Killing someone accidentally with her mind was an all too real possibility for Sybill. No witch should ever be forced to absorb the perpetual influx of kinetic thoughts that Sybill dealt with daily.  
  
Sybill knew what everyone including the faculty thought of her. She honestly could not find a single point in her defense. The things she spouted off in class and around the campus were pure poppycock. She spoke of death, tragedy and brimstone because she used to believe everyone expected it of her. By the time she realized nothing of the sort had been true, well it really was expected of her. While she was the butt of many jokes, she knew no one dared to fault her teaching abilities. Divination was a skill that only worked where psychic potential existed. Anyone could learn the theory involved, but only a seer could practice the methodology. Less than one percent of the wizarding population consisted of seers, empaths and telepaths. Sybill Trelawney was cursed with all three powers. She was a rare find indeed. Not even Albus Dumbledore understood her plight, but he certainly sympathized. More importantly, he feared her ending up in the Dark Lord's clutches, which is why he found a position for her at the school.  
  
Her current sixth year students were a rare bunch indeed. In their first year, it had been seven years since her last true seer, but this class was blessed with three. Even though they were silly twits, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown both possessed the gift. Pansy Parkinson also accompanied them. The twits would probably end married pregnant and totally wasting their abilities, which they viewed as novelties by the summer after commencement. It was rumored that Parkinson was already acting as a seer for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Outside of her class a lone sixth year seer wandered the halls. Oddly enough it was Hermione Granger who was also a seer, but Sybill doubted the girl would ever know. Normally she would insist to Albus that someone with the gift remain under instruction, but Hermione was in no danger of psychic suppression. Ms. Granger excelled at Arithmancy due in part to her psychic aptitude. Her gift allowed her to narrow down all the possibilities to and handful of perfect possible futures. Professor Vector came from a long line of seers and while she did not have the gift, she certainly knew how to instruct arithmancers who possessed it.  
  
Sybill often wondered what outcomes Hermione divined from her equations. Did her equations come to her like visions or were they something else entirely? Trelawney had only ever been able to focus her power enough for concentrated visions twice in her life. Both times the chaos in her head had been silenced and a lone thread had taken hold until she fell into a trance and prophesied. Both times the Boy Who Lived had almost died.  
  
Sybill continued to survey the Great Hall until her eyes fell onto Draco Malfoy. For an instant she dropped the dreamy eyed act and focused on the boy with all her might. She had long since gleaned that he was not all he seemed to be. His deceptions ran deep into the core of his house. The only other time she had gotten a reading like that off of someone was with the illustrious Severus Snape. She liked Snape because even though she saw his innate darkness, he never transmitted his noise. Sybill found this to be a blessing for if he ever revealed himself to her the sound would be her undoing. Malfoy used to be silence as well, but now he emitted a feral growl in her symphony.  
  
Sybill caught Malfoy's gray stare lasering in on Hermione Granger. In previous years his disdain for the girl had been genuine and hissed in Sybill's mind like a venomous predator. Now however, she heard a different note in his thoughts. It was overwhelming and primal. He was...he was looking at his...mate? No, that did not seem right. It wasn't that simple. As Sybill tried to concentrate on Malfoy's thoughts a psychic force knocked into her and Sybill nearly passed out from the blow. The pain in her mind burned like acid, but she forced herself to go through her extensive training and attempt to find her attacker. When her mind refocused her gaze was wrenched towards Hermione Granger. The look in the girl's eyes was clear. It was predatory and clearly told Sybill to keep out of Draco Malfoy's head.  
  
Sybill could not contain her shock. Hermione had just manipulated her powers on an advanced level. Not only had she sensed Sybill's probe, she had obviously established some sort of link with Draco Malfoy and was able to attack on a psychic level. Tentatively Sybill sent out a psychic thread to Hermione, but before her intentions could be stated Sybill felt searing pain in her mind. Through the pain a small part of her deteriorating mind wondered why she couldn't ever keep her nose where it belonged or just have a nice little vision about Hufflepuff winning the House Cup. Everyone in the hall turned at the sound of the Divinations professor's keening cry as she collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.  
  
All at once the Great Hall was filled with murmuring students. Quite a few stood on benches to gawk at the spectacle at the head table. Madame Pomphrey rushed over to the seer's side and began examining her. Professor Sprout gasped and turned into Hagrid's massive chest when she saw blood begin to leak out of Trelawney's nose and mouth.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore inhaled deeply before turning his back to the grim scene. When he faced the students his voice resonated in the room.  
  
"SILENCE. Prefects please direct all housemates to your common rooms. There is to be no talking in the hallways. Any student who chooses to do otherwise will find a severe decrease in house points. When you have all reached your common rooms you will remain there until your head of house arrives to tell you otherwise. If anyone is found loitering or wandering in the halls they will receive a minimum of two weeks detention. Our Head Boy Mr. Boot and Head Girl Ms. Chang will patrol the halls to ensure these rules are strictly enforced."  
  
There was no twinkle in his eyes only a steely gaze that brooked no argument. After Dumbledore turned his back the mass exodus began. Not a single sound was made as the students headed towards their common rooms. Slytherin and Gryffindor walked out side by side. Hermione and Draco led their respective houses away. Professor Snape's obsidian eyes honed in on the two and narrowed when their shoulders brushed before they diverged over the threshold.  
  
Much later on, after everyone had settled in for the night and Sybill Trelawney was safely ensconced in the Hospital Wing, Snape glided into the Headmaster's office. For the first time ever, Albus did not offer him some sickeningly sweet confection as he took a seat. Albus sat back in contemplative repose. His hands were folded atop his slight midsection and his snowy beard fell on either side. His lips were pursed and he gazed at several lone sugar granules on his cluttered desk. Severus sat patiently and waited for the Headmaster to collect his thoughts. When Dumbledore finally looked up, it was to pin the young professor with an intense blue gaze.  
  
"You will be pleased to know that Sybill will be fine. Poppy has decided to keep her overnight, but assures me she will be ready to teach her first class."  
  
Severus raised a raven eyebrow at the Headmaster's assumption that he cared for the other professor's well being. Before he could comment on this he was cut off by the Headmaster's weary voice.  
  
"It would seem that Professor Trelawney's injuries were sustained via a severe psychic blow. Poppy's preliminary scans show that something temporarily stunned Sybill's third eye. As it stands Sybill does not remember what she was doing before she collapsed so we cannot know for certain who inflicted these wounds or what provoked him or her to attack. Scans indicate that the extraneous psychic residue in Sybill's body is indicative of a trained diviner."  
  
"Well I suppose that rules out the hopeless Hufflepuff cursing herself in the foot so to speak." Severus rolled his eyes at Albus' frown. " Come now Albus, it would not be the first time she accidentally stunned herself. Considering the evidence it would seem that Mademoiselles Brown, Patil and Parkinson are the immediate suspects. They are the most advanced divination students at this time. On the other hand Ms. Granger may not be classically trained, but the obnoxious twit does seem intent upon memorizing every book in the library. I would not be surprised if she knew more about divination at least in theory than that fruit Trelawney. It is not outside the realm of reason that she might be responsible for Sybill Trelawney's injuries."  
  
Albus eased out of his chair and walked towards a large enchanted window. The window was similar to a muggle security camera system. It allowed the Headmaster to view all known portions of the castle. It was also the reason why the Dumbledore seemed omniscient at times.well that plus the fact that he was a bit of a seer. He watched the scenes flashing before him intently. Slowly he turned and afforded Severus a profile view of his face.  
  
"My boy, how has Pansy Parkinson's behavior been lately? She has always had a strong personality and you have said that in the past she has done minor psychic exercises for Voldemort. I should think she is a suspect you should seriously look into as well."  
  
The silence following Dumbledore's words was deafening. Severus was ashen faced, more so then usual when he stood up stiffly and stalked over to the Headmaster's side. In deceptively soft tones the Potions Master spoke to his superior.  
  
"There times Albus, when I forget that you are nothing more than a man. Your greatness clouds my memories of your follies, which is rather ironic when you consider the fact that I am your greatest folly. It may not be obvious to all, but the dynamic of Granger and Draco's relationship has changed. I did not wish to believe, but now I know we have reason to worry. You initially told me to watch them because you saw a dangerous union forming." Slowly Snape stepped back from the Headmaster and headed toward the spiral stairway.  
  
Just then the Headmaster refocused his eyes on the window. An image of Hermione Granger exiting the Gryffindor portrait hole was quickly followed by one of Draco Malfoy stealthily walking away from the Serpents Den. Albus' shoulders slumped and in that instant he shrank in stature and was molded into the form of a tired old man. His voice was reed thin when he called out Severus' name.  
  
"It would seem that we have two students out of bed after they were expressly informed to remain in their houses until morning. Will you please handle the situation?"  
  
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. The Fat Lady was rustling about and if the old cow woke up and spotted her, she would cause nothing but trouble. The sturdy brunette reached carefully for her wand and pointed it at the portrait hole before murmuring a spell that would keep the painting slumbering until she chose to reverse it. Once she was sure the spell had worked, Hermione turned determinedly towards her destination.  
  
Malfoy had better be on time, she thought grimly. Hermione did not fancy loitering in the hallway. That could only lead to an undesirable encounter with Filch or Snape or worse still both. If she had been able to plan this tryst a bit better, she would have remembered to snatch Harry's cloak. But she hadn't been thinking clearly. Her thoughts were jumbled and confused.  
  
A line had been crossed today and all Hermione could think to do was find the git that got her into this mess.  
  
"Malfoy." she hissed in a loud whisper from just inside the library doors.  
  
Draco Malfoy reclined against a wall underneath a large stained glass window in the large library. His aquiline features were bathed in colored slats of moonlight and a secret part of Hermione's spirit thrilled at the sight of him. As he turned to face her, the young Gryffindor's body went haywire. She hated the wretched way her nipples tightened and the blood underneath her skin rushed up and made her feel super-sensitive. It was a betrayal of the worst kind. Intellectually Hermione knew her reaction was instinctive and did not reflect her true feelings towards Malfoy. Yet she found little comfort in this explanation. Each day it became just it little more difficult to resist the stranger inside and cling to the real Hermione.  
  
She feared the day she would cease to call him Malfoy. Conceding his name would seal her fate in this dangerous game they had started. The experience would be unbearable were it not for the fact she knew the insufferable prick was fighting similar demons.  
  
As the shapely brunette approached, Malfoy languidly moved from his position of repose and rose to his full height of 6 feet 3 inches. He carefully placed his elegant hands with beautifully tapered fingers into the pockets of his equally elegant tailored slacks. He looked at the statuesque form of Hermione Granger with an artfully arched brow. His eyes were unblinking and Draco Malfoy looked relaxed and in control of his surroundings.  
  
Upon closer inspection Hermione found tell tale signs of his discomfort. His jaw looked painfully tense and a pulse point in his right temple pulsed clearly. His whole body was held tightly and his breaths were accompanied by a tell tale flaring of his nostrils. These physical cues gave Hermione all the comfort she needed. And because she could not bear to stand so close to him without some type of contact, she humbled herself and reached out to touch his face. Both expelled an audible sigh of relief. For a perfect instant their skin stopped burning, their nerve endings stopped jangling and they were at peace.  
  
Then the mood shifted as Hermione eased her hand up the side of his face to gently cup his ear. There was an odd hitch in Draco's breathing which quickly became a hiss of pain as the muggle-born witch twisted his right ear. The action served the purpose of maintaining contact while satisfying the part of Hermione that still hated Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy, I don't like this. I don't like losing control. I'm sorry if it irritates you that I wasn't born with your Slytherin implacability, but I just can't hide the need as well as you can. Now you need to meet me half way on this. We knew from the start that I would have less tolerance as time wears on. I trusted you to be there for me, but I am sick of having to beg for you. We can't risk another incident like we had in potions. I will not be."  
  
The girl's words were halted by a pale hand over her mouth. With his free hand Draco reached up and removed the painful grip on his ear, before dragging the girl's frame into his embrace. At first, Hermione was too stunned to move and then she began to struggle with all her might. Years of quidditch had given Draco a deceptive strength. He held fast to the spunky Gryffindor and leaned his face in until his mouth brushed against her ear. In a gravelly voice he spoke quietly into her ear.  
  
"Why are you fighting? Isn't this what you need? To be touched by me? To be close to me?" Draco chuckled as the spunky girl fought with even more vigor. "Granger I don't like this either. I relish my personal space and I certainly never wished to have it contaminated by a little mudblood, but we rarely get what we want in this life. Now I promised to take care of you and I do. It's not my fault you are weak and can't resist your impulses. Lucky for you, it does not suit my purposes to have you draw further attention to us and I need that mind of yours fully functioning. That being said I have a proposal for you. How would you like this night and every other in bed with me?"  
  
Now it was Hermione's turn for her breath to hitch. A shiver worked its way up Hermione's spine and she dropped her head to Draco's chest to avoid the smirk that was sure to be on his face. Not for the first time, Hermione cursed her body for its weakness and betrayal.  
  
"Be reasonable mudblood," Hermione's hackles automatically went up at the term and her back stiffened with indignation when Draco rubbed her back as if she were a recalcitrant child. "You can't go around partnering up with me in potions and attacking teachers or anyone else for that matter. You obviously can't sustain yourself on the few touches we managed in the halls when this all began. Your appetite has become too great. Perhaps if you have eight hours of constant contact with me each night, you will be able to act normally during the day. Now be a good girl and do as Draco says."  
  
Hermione's brown gaze crackled with pent up fury and for an instant not even Draco's imbedded prejudice could stop his hormonal reaction to the brilliantly upset female in his arms.  
  
"Fuck you Malfoy."  
  
Hermione carefully enunciated each word and hoped that her words and her eyes conveyed her complete distaste for the boy.  
  
With a seductive smile Draco delicately disentangled himself from their embrace.  
  
"If it comes to that Granger. But for now I think sleeping will suffice."  
  
"Let the record show I still hate you, you albino ferret. You had better be covered from head to foot too, you pervy git."  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Really where did you get those manners? It is my room and I shall sleep as I always have. Completely nak."  
  
"Shhh! Do you sense that?" Hermione's head was tilted slightly and she was delicately sniffing the air. "Someone is coming. Leave the door to your room open and I will be there shortly. "  
  
"Granger you don't know the way to Slytherin Dorms much less my own chambers."  
  
With an exasperated sigh, Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Don't worry, I will find you. I'll see you in an hour, maybe less. Now just go."  
  
Just as Draco's figure became totally obscured in shadows Hermione turned to face the library one last time and checked for any signs of their visit. Satisfied with what she saw, Hermione turned around and stepped out the doors. With her back to the hall she quickly cast a locking spell. When she finished the incantation a look of resignation fell on her face. Without even turning around the young witch stated a meek "Good evening Professor Snape."  
  
"It is morning Ms. Granger. Now please face me and explain why you are out when you have received strict orders to remain in your house," Snape commanded in a low purr.  
  
Languidly the girl turned to face her professor. When she finally faced him, her back was flush with the doors and he was disconcertingly close to her person. He wore his usual severely cut midnight robes. The only pieces of flesh left visible and exposed were his battered face and his equally battered hands. Even at 5 feet 8 inches, Hermione had to crane her neck back to meet her professor's ebony eyes.  
  
"Would you believe I was sleep studying? I do it all the time. Harry and Ron usually catch me before I get this far, but I guess all the excitement made them forget to keep an eye out. Well, so sorry for the inconvenience I'll be sure to let Madame Pomphrey know and have her whip up a cure. See you at breakfast."  
  
Hermione moved to her right, but found black wool cotton on either side of her head. She wisely chose to keep her eyes focused on the jet button just between the potions master's lean pectorals. When he leaned in to speak directly into her ear, Hermione vaguely thought to herself that all Slytherin men must receive lessons on how to evoke shivers every time they use the signature move.  
  
"Ms. Granger you have always been an insolent little know-it-all, but you have remained shrouded under the protective wings of your Gryffindor mentors. I think it is safe to say that this time you will not escape from the pit you have dug yourself into. I am almost certain you were not.sleep- studying unaccompanied, but I will leave the third degree to Professor McGonagall. You have crossed some very definite lines today Ms. Granger and I am sure that by the end of this night you will find that mine are not the only watchful eyes at Hogwarts."  
  
At his last comment, Hermione's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed upon the raven-haired man's face. She saw the satisfaction spread across the greasy bastard's face and wanted to claw it with all her might. Something in her eyes must have spoken of suppressed violence. Snape slowly shook his head as if to warn her against any rash actions. She was vexed because Snape was enjoying drawing out her misery.  
  
While I am sure that your head of house will take her own pound of flesh out of you along with stripping you of your prefecting duties, I believe I shall take a round 100 points from Gryffindor for your untruthfulness and attempt to escape punishment. Now if you will follow me."  
  
Over one hour later, Hermione lay on her bed like a condemned woman. McGonagall had seen fit to take another 100 points from Gryffindor for far too many infractions to count. She had not yet been stripped of her prefect powers. Hermione assumed it was because McGonagall was at heart deeply sentimental and could not simply rip away such an important post considering this was really only her second major indiscretion. The only satisfying part of the whole ordeal was that she had been sentenced to a month of detentions with Snape. It gave her an excuse to be in the dungeons near Draco. The part of Hermione that was still a well-behaved Gryffindor truly lamented the trouble she was in. It weighed heavily on her heart to have Snape imply that at the very least McGonagall and Dumbledore did not trust her. At the heart of it all she was alarmed by the fact that her charade was no longer fooling the people that mattered most. A new plan of action would have to be employed for her plan to work. With a resigned sigh Hermione prepared to break yet another rule.  
  
Harry Potter could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of Hermione assailed him. She was in trouble, but it was up to her to come to them. He knew Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape all secretly thought she had turned dark, but Harry knew better. Maya was too strong for that. For the life of him Harry could not figure out what could possibly connect Maya to Malfoy. At first he thought Malfoy was blackmailing her, but that idea was tossed quickly. Maya obviously wanted to be with the prat. If it were as simple as an affair, he and Ron would have found some way to deal with it. Their bond obviously went deeper than sex. Harry cringed a bit at the last thought. As far as he was concerned Hermione and sex should never be in the same sentence EVER.  
  
Ron's personal theory was that she was under a dark spell. After surreptitiously testing her, they found that no traces of spells manipulating her free will. Harry's new theory seemed to be the most viable. A month and a half into the beginning of sixth year, there had been a surge in the magical energy surrounding Hogwarts. The surge had happened on the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. One minute the students were gallivanting about and the next the sky was overcast and all hell broke loose. Something reversed the polarity of their powers and none of the students could control their abilities. It took the work of Rosmerta, the Weasley twins and a few teachers who happened to be on hand to herd all of the students together and suppress their haywire magic. For some reason, the surge had only affected the students. An impromptu three- day weekend was given since many students were recovering well into Monday. Maya, Malfoy and a handful of other students opted to skip the trip to Hogsmeade. Both Hermione and Malfoy claimed they slept through the disturbance. About a month after that day, Harry noticed an odd interchange between the unlikely couple. Harry was certain that the surge had something to do with Maya's change. If he could figure out the source of the surge, then maybe he could glean a way to get Hermione back; hence all the research he and Ron were doing. Harry could not help but think a bit wryly that the surge theory would have occurred to Hermione immediately. Losing the brain in their trio was a real pain in the ass.  
  
Harry sighed deeply and reflected on the events that transpired today. He hated to believe it, but he was certain Maya and Malfoy had something to do with Trelawney's episode. The Headmaster made rounds to all the houses to ensure that all the students were settled. Dumbledore had spoken to him briefly during the lock down tonight. He reminded Harry to let him know if Hermione came to him for help. Harry muttered the obligatory assurances, but he had been lying through his teeth. The fact of the matter was that if Maya asked for help, he would give it unconditionally. His loyalty was to her first and foremost. Ron was in complete agreement.  
  
Just as Harry closed his eyes to make another attempt at sleep, he felt the bed dip underneath him. The only two people who ever sneaked into his bed were Ginny and Hermione. When he turned his head, he saw a wealth of tight spiral curls a voluptuous woman.  
  
"You came," he exhaled in a relieved breath.  
  
"Harry, help me."  
  
A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, but I have finals coming up and several major deadlines at work to deal with. I know this has been a very vague story to date. If anyone is still interested and reading this, I swear I will explain what is going on with Hermione and Draco in the next chapter. Once again I don't have a beta so if the grammar and spelling becomes unbearable let me know. I'm just now starting to truly flesh out this story. To be quite honest I doubt I will be able to do it justice. Still I'll give it a whirl and see how I manage.  
  
Let me say this again. I do not want to be one those fanfiction writers that make you cringe when you read their work. I have a pretty thick skin so I can deal with strong criticism. If anyone wants to flame they should feel free to do so. Notoriety is so much interesting than fame anyway. That's about all she wrote folks.  
  
Big warm thanks to my reviewers:  
  
Florence Blanche Dubois LadyBrannon Caraena Amiella Rogue Rosmerta Psycho-Kitty-Purra 


	4. Absolution

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters worth mentioning in this story. Harry Potter and company are the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, but I sure do wish I had thought of it first.  
  
Chapter 4 - Absolution  
  
"I need to borrow your cloak and the map."  
  
Harry hoisted himself to a sitting position. He ignored the fact that his comforter was pooled low on his hips now. Nudity was nothing new between the friends. Hermione, Ron and Harry had seen each other in varying degrees of undress over the last six years. It was really too late to be shy about it.  
  
"You may borrow them," Harry seemed to be weighing his words carefully. Hermione was not foolish enough to think his answer would be as unconditional as that.  
  
"Maya, I won't renege so stop looking like the other shoe is going to drop. I won't lie and say knowing why you need them wouldn't be a comfort, but I won't force you tell me anything. Ron and I love you and we want to help, but we can only do that if you let us in. Tell us what you're doing." With a pleading look Harry tried to penetrate the wall Hermione had erected between them. When he saw no change in her features he let out a long- suffering sigh. "Give me a minute to find the map."  
  
Harry reached over to get his spectacles from his nightstand and then began rifling through the deep middle drawer. Hermione could not help but notice the symphony of muscles in his back shift. She thought to herself rather appreciatively that quidditch had been as good to Harry as it had been to Malfoy. Normally, only a vaguely heterosexual portion of Hermione would have noticed Harry, but the longer she watched the interplay of muscles the more aware she became. Her pupils became fully dilated when Harry leaned over further and the beginning portion of his firm ass an outer thigh became visible.  
  
By Merlin, I'm like a bitch in heat, Hermione thought to herself. Things were definitely serious when the site of Harry started to get her aroused.  
  
As if sensing her scrutiny, Harry turned his head toward her and gave her a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders at her deep flush. He had long since stopped trying to read Hermione.  
  
"Give me a minute love. The hidden compartment is being a real bitch to open."  
  
Without preamble Harry rolled completely out of bed and went onto his knees before the battered old nightstand. Hermione made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. She had forgotten the guys were commando sleepers. Last year Hermione had walked into the dorm room and seen more meat and veg than if she had gone to the Great Hall for dinner. She had turned pink for weeks after when she saw Neville and Seamus around campus.  
  
She cursed Draco Malfoy once again. One of the many side effects that she suffered when she did not get enough bonding time with the bastard was a severe awareness of those around her. Her hormones went haywire and just about anyone could get her humming. But Hermione had already come to learn that no other contact, but Malfoy's could stop the constant prickling and tactile sensitivity. Over the winter recess, Hermione had endured unbearable discomfort. At times she thought of ripping her skin off layer by layer to gain relief. Eventually, she became fed up with her hypersensitive awareness of anything with a pulse and consented to a heavy make-out session at a club. The poor muggle she practically mauled had ended up as unsatisfied as Hermione herself, when she realized that arousal was only worsening the discomfort to painful levels. She had stopped the activity immediately and drove home like a madwoman to owl Malfoy for help.  
  
After Harry finally liberated the Marauder's Map from its hiding place, he eased back onto the bed and lay back down on top of the covers facing Hermione. He supported his head with his right hand and extended the map with his right hand. Hermione's color was high and her breaths were shallow when she snatched the map from his hands. She quickly rose to a sitting position and began to ease off the mattress. Just as her feet touched the ground, Harry stopped her by calling out her name. She paused and turned her head slightly to acknowledge him, but was too afraid of her body's reaction to face him completely again.  
  
"I know I said I wouldn't ask," at the tensing of her shoulders, Harry rushed to expel his next words, "and you don't have to answer, but do you need them to see Malfoy?"  
  
Perhaps it was only a second, but it seemed as if a lifetime had passed before Hermione gave a single choppy nod of her head. He knew it was silly, it was obvious what her answer would be, but a secret part of wished she hadn't nodded. Then as if only a dream, this whole mess would not exist and it would be September again and they would all still be inseparable. Harry had learned a long time ago that wishing never amounted to much so he faced reality and plowed ahead.  
  
"Will you need to use the cloak again after tonight?"  
  
Once again there was an infinite stillness before the inevitable nod came. Harry's shoulders slumped and he bent his head to rub the bridge of his nose. For a minute he grappled with his next question before it wearily tumbled off his tongue.  
  
"Is he...forcing you to go to him?"  
  
A dry, tinny sound came from Hermione's throat. Harry did not dare call it a laugh; the sound was too tormented for that. When Hermione spoke her voice was thin and weak, as if it had been and not minutes since she had last used it.  
  
"It's complicated. Harry,"  
  
Before Hermione could finish the next sentence, the curtains around Harry's bed were wrenched aside and Hermione's eyes were in direct line with a washboard flat abdomen and the most intriguing trail of red hair which tapered (thankfully) into a pair of snug and worn maroon boxers. Ronald Weasley had also been honed to Adonis status by quidditch training it would seem.  
  
"What kind of half-arsed answer is that? Does he have under some kind of dark spell? Better still are you boinking the bastard? Is that why you need the cloak, to go fuck your platinum lover?"  
  
Ron's questions were fired rapidly and venomously. Hermione and Harry were both at a loss for words. Harry recovered first and tried to placate the flame-haired boy.  
  
"Ron, why don't you just sit down? Calm your nerves. Hermione doesn't need to tell us anything. We are her friends, not her parents. Right?"  
  
"Wrong, friend! You can try that nice guy shit, I want answers. Well Maya, what is going on?"  
  
Somewhere to their left, Seamus Finnegan raised his head and interrupted the torrent.  
  
"For Merlin's sake Ron shut the fuck up and let Maya talk. Maya hon, I'm glad you finally came to your senses and talked to Harry. Ron means well, but he's a dick so ignore him. Now would one of you please be kind enough to cast a 'silencio'? My wand is too far or I would do it my bloody self."  
  
"Sorry Shea," Hermione replied before extending her wand and casting the requested silencing charm.  
  
With some of her old fieriness, the girl yanked Ron down onto the mattress beside her. In a matter of seconds she realized the error of her actions. Hermione gave a silent groan. Not even Ron's irritating attitude could distract her from his attractiveness. Now she was sandwiched between her two most beloved men and her skin crawled with arousal. Hermione blushed deeply as x-rated images flashed before her eyes. She had only ever seen such images once before by accident on a muggle porn channel, this mess was turning her positively pervy. Somehow Hermione managed to mask her high coloring as rage and turned to her impetuous best friend.  
  
"I'll have you know Ronald Weasley, I could be screwing all of Slytherin and it would be no concern of yours. I said the situation was complicated and I really don't need any of this shit. Fuck it, I'll risk detention."  
  
Hermione scrambled to her feet, but was yanked back down by Ron's firm grip on her wrist. When she turned to scold the boy, she swallowed her words. Ron's head was bent, but she still caught a glimpse of the regret in his eyes.  
  
"Maya stay. I'm sorry," the red head pleaded from under cinnamon lashes. When he looked up and pinned her with his electric gaze, Hermione felt her defenses disintegrate. Ron implored soulfully to his friend.  
  
"I just want to protect you. Let us in. I know you think you have to do this alone, but you don't. Together we can make anything happen. Right now you're hurting us so much more than you can know by freezing us out." Gently Ron reached up to cup her face in his hands and Harry eased up against her back and bussed a peck on her right shoulder. Ron's deep baritone reached out to her very soul.  
  
"Tell us, love."  
  
Hermione felt the bile begin to rise up in her throat. For the last seven months she had been keeping secrets too deep and dark to imagine from her best friends. It killed her to separate herself from their lives and walk the dark path she was on without familiar friends. In her heart she knew it was all for the best. She was protecting Harry and Ron from what she had become. She was doing the honorable thing by keeping them in the dark. Unfortunately, Hermione was rapidly learning honor had no place in this war. Sacrifices and casualties were facts to be accepted. While Hermione still wanted to protect her boys, she needed their help and the only way they would completely give it was if she told them everything. She hated herself for not being strong enough to get through this without asking for help.  
  
"Maya, I know we fought before and I never told you how sorry I was. If I had known my last words to you would be so cruel and brutal, I would never have.. Hell, I shouldn't have said them to begin with. I have lived seven months of my life in hell for what I did. If I am the reason," the young Gryffindor stumbled over the lump in his throat.  
  
"If I am the reason why you are in trouble, then I'm begging you to give me a chance. I can make it better. I can fix everything I swear."  
  
The last word came out through fiercely gritted teeth. Ronald Weasley was holding back a well of tears. The sheen in his eyes was reflected in those of his two best friends.  
  
"No Ron, no!" She reached out her hands to firmly cup her best friend's face so that he was forced to look her in the eye. "You have to believe me when I say you are not the reason why I am in this predicament."  
  
Harry got off the bed and walked to a chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of black boxer briefs before slipping them on. With a decisive push of his left hip, he shoved the drawer closed before pivoting to face his two friends. His lips were slightly pursed as he leaned his right shoulder against a bedpost at the foot of the bed. He had something to say, but was searching for the best way to say it.  
  
"Spit it out Harry. What do you want to know?" Hermione asked in a resigned voice.  
  
"Are you afraid that Malfoy will find out? Maya, as much as I want to crack his jaw open you know we will BOTH keep quiet if that is what you need from us." Harry finally managed in a slightly offended tone.  
  
With a mirthless laugh, Hermione shook her head before letting them both in on the joke.  
  
"He already knows Harry. Malfoy knows everything about me. What I do. What I say. What I want. What I hate. What I eat even!" Her voice rose to a shrill crescendo before she caught herself and lowered it. "And I know just as much about him. The truth is we are both suffering together. No blackmail or power games needed. We are both cursed and that it is our gift to the world."  
  
Ron shook his head in confusion. Hermione was speaking in riddles and he just wanted her to get to the point.  
  
"Maya, I love you and I am trying not to be the insufferable little prick you know me to be, but if you keep up this cryptic act..."  
  
Hermione let out a bark of laughter at Ron's obvious exasperation. He really was one of the most darling boys on earth, when he put away his front and was just Ron and not "Ronald Weasley-poverty stricken-hot headed Gryffindor-best friend to the Boy Who Lived."  
  
On countless occasions in the past, she had found herself owing her life and her sanity to him. Ron stopped both Harry and Hermione from becoming too wrapped up in the seriousness of every day life. She knew that day so many months ago weighed heavily on Ron's mind. It had pained her to know that her last words with Ron were thick with anger and cruelty on both sides. She knew that he had convinced himself that he was the root of their rift. Hermione could do this one thing for him; she could alleviate his guilt. Slowly she exhaled all of her trepidation and inhaled a deep, steadying breath.  
  
A strange sentiment scurried across her mind. She felt an odd sense of capitulation and exasperation that was not quite her own. In that instant, she knew nothing was stopping her from letting Harry and Ron know the truth. Her entire being told her to go ahead and revive the dynamic trio she had missed being a part of for so long.  
  
She would tell them everything and the consequences be damned. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Angst, Romance