“This is so much like the two of you, you know?”, Hermione bellowed. “Still thinking I would be jealous of that hypocrite? This isn’t about being good at Potions anymore, you baboons! It is Dark Magic and as long as we don’t have any proof where that hag got it from, I tell you they invented it! And that means, they were as much a saint as Voldemort himself!”
“Hang on, yes?”, Ron murmured, glad that they were all alone in the common room.
“It’s like you knew who that Prince is?”, Ginny blinked, finally looking at her again.
“Of course not.”, Hermione calmed down a little. “I still have no clue. But as much as this spell saved Harry, as bad is it. Malfoy trying to jinx him with an Unforgivable Curse is cruel, yes, but the spell Harry used should become the fourth, if you ask me. I’ve looked it up. Nothing. It’s nowhere.”, in fact she had spent several hours looking at the page in Bullocks encyclopaedia it should be on, but there wasn’t a single hint, nor in any dark books in the Restricted Section. “It means it is not only an unauthorised spell, it never got noticed by anyone. Fortunately. But that also makes it more obvious that your so-called prince invented it, clearly knowing the effect because otherwise the book wouldn’t have said it’s for enemies. And that, can only be the work of someone who is capable of harming fatally, if not even killing. If you excuse me, I need to go to the library. There are still some things I haven’t had time to check.”, having said her last word, she stormed out, leaving the three of them linger in their depression.
~~#~~
Harry was lucky that he had only incurred detention with Severus. Even she would have thought, McGonagall would have expelled him for that. But not having known the effect of the spell he had read `by chance´ beforehand and yelling it in a life-threatening situation, was the only reason he had been spared. The only positive event was that, due to his detention, Harry missed the game against Ravenclaw. His mood may have made them all fail. This way, Gryffindor won, and not enough, finally he had managed to kiss Ginny, who had found enough courage to listen to her and Luna at last, some days earlier.
The news of the new dream-couple was like the birth of a new sun on the horizon of rumours and storytelling in Hogwarts. Still it wouldn’t fully reach Hermione. While Harry had at last calmed down on the whole prince-thing, she spent more and more time in the Restricted Section of the library. That, unfortunately, brought a lot more stress to her free time. It was now homework, preparation on exams, library and – Severus. Though, much less of him than she needed and wondered whether it had anything to do with Burbage. Because, it appeared more obvious as well that this woman had a talent for snatching him away before Hermione could reach him in their free hours. It could of course be coincidence, but in Hermione’s eyes it looked more like she was jealous or something. Or perhaps –
Eyes getting tired, she was flipping pages. Nothing about that Sectumsempra-madness. Evil magic, evil creatures, evil objects, people who turned evil. People who invented spells. People who invented evil spells. But nowhere the slightest hint. She didn’t even come across the word `prince´, just as if it didn’t exist in the wizarding world at all. `Principle´ was the closest she could find, but of course, the least possible help. She didn’t notice him coming from behind at all.
Her shriek was muffled by his hand, gently pressed on her mouth. The soft kiss on her left cheek however, was a big relief.
“What are you doing here again, my precious?”, he whispered seductively.
“Research.”
“Can’t you let it for once?”, Severus moaned and let go. “Ah I understand – until you know exactly how to create a Horcrux, you will not dare to rest. You see, I don’t think you will ever find anything about them in here. There is no book left here about them. None of them has been sighted in years.”
“And you tell me now?”, Hermione grunted, leaning back.
“I thought it would be obvious to you that you will not find a thing about such Dark Magic in a school library. Nowhere.”
“So you’d advise me to go to Hogsmeade, Apparate to Knockturn Alley and just ask some of those foul bastards hanging around there whether they know a shop that sells books about Horcruxes?”, she snorted. “And – that spell Harry attacked Malfoy with – do you know something about it?”
“Other than that it obviously works like a sword-blade?”
“Yes. I’ve tried to find out something about it too. But it’s even worse than with the Horcruxes. It’s like that spell doesn’t exist at all! But it must, since that Half-Blood Prince has copied it down into the book – which you apparently know.”
“Well, Harry’s mind is an `open book´ for me,”
“Yes. But the spell isn’t in the book you gave me for Christmas. So not even Bullock knew it. It has never been registered by the Ministry or anyone else. I really start to believe it’s been that so-called prince who invented it. Or have you ever heard about it? After all you dealt with the Dark side since you’ve been in school – ”
“I have never heard anyone saying that incantation.”, he went around her, pushed away some of the books on the table and sat down on it in front of her.
“Then I’m as wise as before. Harry’s hidden the book in the Room of Requirement. Um – you won’t sneak on him to Slughorn, will you?”
“Harry is my son, if you remember, and Horace is one of the last I would turn him in to. Draco tried to put the Cruciatus Curse on him and Harry defended himself. It was a reaction of panic.”
“I know. That’s what convinced McGonagall to keep him at Hogwarts.”
“Actually it has been me who convinced her.”, finally Hermione looked up.
“Oh.”, thinking, she bit her lips. “Do you have any more people in detention tonight?”
“Do I sense a need for distraction?”, he smiled softly.
“You can really read minds. I – just thought it would be a shame if Dumbledore died before we could ask him to go and buy some refill for our little box.”, he laughed vividly, Hermione feared someone could hear him.
“If not Lord Voldemort, surely you will be my death one day.”, he smirked, fondling her right cheek.
“Then throw me into your bed and stopper death already.”, Hermione grumbled, making him laugh even more heart-warmingly. “Sorry.”, she squinted, realising what she had just said.
“And a far more delightful person to be murdered by.”
~~#~~
Still dripping bundles laid glued to his shoulders, forming wet curtains to his head. His arms were crossed in front of his stomach, so were his legs below the white towel bound around his hips. It could have been cold anger, but also concern that stood in his grim face, lighted by the chandelier above. Leaning against the front of his desk, he stared at Lucius’ son who stood in mid room, having failed at more attempts to defend himself verbally. As good as the boy was at Occlumency, only a blind wouldn’t have seen his fear and just a deaf wouldn’t have heard the tremor in his voice while he had spoken about the matter. It hurt him to see the teenager like this and he therefore decided to change the topic. Staid again, he continued.
“Why are you actually here?”, Draco took a comparatively deep breath to have his short say.
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Your present. I received it.”, Severus nodded on it.
“I wanted to give it to you personally, but you were constantly out of reach.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“You should – ”, four knocks on the door, Draco spun around. “’Is can’ be fer real – ”, Severus mumbled to himself and snapped his fingers twice to unlock and open the door. “What?”
“Er – ”, was the greet they received.
Draco’s eyes stood wide open, fearing that he was blushing. Harry’s eyebrows were narrowed behind his glasses and Severus’ expression was back to infuriaton.
“Since when are you knocking like this?”, he huffed.
“Like what?”, Harry murmured. “Sir?”, he added in last second.
“And you are too soon.”
“Obviously.”, the music coming from a gramophone in a corner and the sight of his almost naked teacher cost him a smirk and he thought it better to check his watch for avoiding some grand drama. “No, it’s – ”, a bell rang in the distance, “Seven o’clock.”, he noted, in a sing-song tone.
“I said eight.”
“No, Sir, seven.”
“You said seven, Professor.”, Draco moaned. “Is it already that late? Damn.”
“I didn’t say – did I really – ”
“Yes.”, his students said at once and he scratched his momentarily tickling neck with his left hand, the right arm still in the same position.
“All right, all right.”, his eyes closed with annoyance behind his bent fingers to his brows. “Get in, Potter.”, he raised and turned around, holding to his desk.
Both of them gazed at his back, pulling a very similar face of askew narrowed eyebrows that transformed into frowning as their lips slowly drifted apart. He could see them mirror in the underwater window behind his desk.
“Are you done with it?”, he turned back to them with a moan and their mouths snapped shut. “Fine. You may leave, Draco. It is not your detention.”
“Why did you antedate it, Professor? What’s happening this Saturday morning?”
“This is my business, isn’t it? Now get out and do something a little more wise with the rest of that day.”
“I’m not taking orders on what to do on my birthday, Sir.”, the Slytherin mumbled and turned to go.
“It’s you birthday, Malfoy?”, Harry chuckled. “All the best then.”
“Save your breath, Potter.”, he grunted and slammed the door shut, leaving their ears humming from the noise for some seconds.
“Now then, Potter, just a little side note, I hate the smell of Filch’s office. Therefore I brought the cards here today. The usual time for you. Sit down and start working.”
He let go of the table and turned his back on Harry once more, making the latter wonder again. Nevertheless the boy shrugged it off and walked towards the chair in front of the desk. Though shortly before it, one of his feet got stuck and the edge of the desk suddenly came closer so fast, he didn’t even have time to fully reach out for it. However, his head shortly stopped before the wood as something firm caught him around the chest: a hand on his left shoulder and another arm was wrapped around his stomach. Panting heavily, he stared at the dark wooden edge in front of his nose.
Just when he became aware of the warmth to his upper body, he was lifted back to his feet by the strong arms. Turning immediately, he found his eyes in height of little, though evenly spread thick black hair on a slightly muscular fair chest. A tiny black and purple sack as well as a small silver locket and two rings on a silver chain rested on it. He hadn’t paid attention to the objects first, but in the short moment before that deep, soft voice made his eyes rush up, he had enough time to study them with all interest. As if to purposely stretch the tension of the situation, the song was over and none came after.
“And you are supposed to be the only one able to stop the Dark Lord.”, unable to straighten himself, Harry swallowed at the whisper and the dark eyes piercing into his before they wandered down, Harry’s look following him as he knelt to his feet. “You cannot even – ”, a little fierce, he began lacing the boy’s left shoe, “Prevent yourself – ”, an additional knot in the bow, “From being killed – ”, the same on the other side, “By your own shoelaces.”
Another snort and he stood straight again, adjusting his towel. When Harry swallowed the second time and could finally manage to straighten as well, Severus forced himself to look away into space. He could bear a lot, but the look Harry gave him was too much. He had to resist. The urge was strong, but he just couldn’t. Having held him for those seconds had to be enough – especially since he was nearly naked. He just couldn’t. Even worse –
“What’s in that locket, Sir?”, his son aspirated, trying to ignore some smell of apricot his nose clearly perceived.
“Get out.”, a whispered rejection of prudence.
“Sir?”
“I said, get out.”
“And – the cards?”, Harry raised an eyebrow.
“No need.”
“Sorry?”
“Are you deaf?”, even Harry was surprised by how calm he spoke and the emptiness in his gaze.
“But – detention?”
“No detention today.”
“Er – ”
“Are you masochistic enough that you’re not even able to take a good chance when it is offered to you?”, that made Harry step back a bit.
“But I – ”
“What.”, he was still facing the floor beside his desk.
“I’m not supposed to be out now, Sir, remember? Or what do you think I should tell the Aurors?”, a frustrated sigh, eyes rolled and he turned his head further away.
“You really are still a child.”, Harry opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. “And I believe you were told to carry your cloak with you all the time.”
“Well, if you can remember, it was you who told me that one of them – ”
“Please spare me that and sit down.”
“What?”
“Sit down, don’t touch anything – apart from the cards, if your really fell in love with that work so much. I’ll be back in five minutes.”, he gave the gramophone a flick of his hand and the needle sank back to the beginning of the record.
Harry’s brows had already disappeared in the hair over his forehead, but he nevertheless obeyed, watching his teacher approaching a shelf. He couldn’t see what he did, though suddenly the shelf moved and he was gone behind, leaving it just as open as Harry couldn’t see inside, as well as him alone with a song he fairly knew from somewhere.
~~#~~
It struggled. Chirruping heavily, the bird fought against his grip. But he didn’t care. It wasn’t the first bird he had brought to the room without notice. The cage was almost empty, yet he hadn’t heard anyone complain. Nobody missed the birds. Fixated on the task, he marched down the corridor. All the best, then. Tz. That tosser and his empty words. He didn’t need such people. Not at all.
“You’re holding it wrongly.”
The soft, dreamy voice from his right hit him so hard that he tripped forward before he could turn to see who had stopped him. Even in the sparse light, she shone like the moon. Her pale skin, the long fair hair and the yellow clothes she wore, were totally out of place. Blinking a little, he just stared at the girl approaching him from behind a statue. Had she been spying on him? The question was answered by her immediately by holding up a pair of trainers by their laces.
“Someone stole my shoes again.”, she sighed over the bird’s cry and put them into the wide, soft blue crocheted bag on her shoulder. “Let me help you.”, a smile as absent as her look when she reached out for his hand. “Here.”, she loosened his grip a little and brought his hand up to his heart – the bird calmed down. “You see? That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Er – yes!”, he was simply taken aback by the whole situation.
“Be careful tonight. Peeves is a little outraged.”
“You know, I’m a Prefect.”
“Oh yes. Even though your badge is upside down.”
“Wha- ?”, he checked and turned it with a snort. “But you know that I can take points off your House or even give you detention for sneaking out?”
“Oh I know.”, Luna still smiled. “But you won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’re not a bad person, you see? I just know you won’t. And – ”, she reached into her bag and pulled a little colourful something which she held under his nose. “Happy Birthday.”
Completely thrown off the track, he marvelled at the pentagonal parcel for some seconds. Nevertheless he took it, holding it in same height as she had. Her smile a little bigger now, she spun on her heels and hopped away, down the corridor and out of sight.
~~#~~
Exactly five minutes later; Harry had checked his watch about three times a minute; he closed the shelf-door, completely dressed in usual black trousers, matte black shoes, a high buttoned black robe and a floor-length black cloak thrown over. His now dry hair was as bushy as Harry had never seen it before and the ends of the black waves stood in every possible direction. Unable to help it, Harry slipped a grunt.
“I cannot remember having told you a joke,”
“Sorry, Sir.”, Harry tried hard to swallow down his laughing, but the grin on his tightly shut lips gave him away anyway. “Is – is that John Lennon?”, he mumbled, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, probably to distract himself, and he saw the annoyed frown fall off with a snort and some obviously embarrassed blinking.
“Yes.”, was the constricted answer he got himself. “Why?”
“Well, I knew that first song, but what’s that one called?”
“”Crippled Inside.”, Harry snickered.
“A bit lively for such a title, isn’t it?”
“In case you haven’t heard of irony before, I might take some time to explain this mystery to you.”
“Yeah. Really ironic.”
Harry chuckled after the first lines of the next song. The silence that fell between them then, had nothing pleasuring. He just stood there by the shelf staring off at the dark window to the lake, and Harry on the floor, both unsure about where exactly to look at while Lennon sang and whistled along the chiming piano. Severus caught his own lips drifting apart when Harry’s fingers suddenly began to move. He probably didn’t even notice, and it wasn’t all completely right, but they moved on his thighs, just as if he knew the song by heart, but didn’t bother to follow its tune. In addition, the boy’s lips curled, his stare at the stone tiles.
The needle snapped up again and with it, Harry’s head jerked. Severus went for the small table. Harry watched him taking the record off and carefully put it into its cover as well as the shelf behind. When he walked back around the desk, the front shelf closed itself, trapping the gramophone inside behind more books. That moment, a hand firmly closed the box with cards on the table. Their eyes lingered on one another’s for some seconds, though his expression was as hollow as earlier.
“How is your acne doing?”
“Er – ”, Harry was momentarily so struck, that he couldn’t answer immediately. “It’s – fading – thanks! I – I mean – probably you see it – I don’t need makeup anymore.”
“I can see that.”
“And the rest’s healing too. You should tell Madam Pomfrey about it,”
“She is neither a Potioneer, nor a Herbologist. I still wonder how she passed her exams for being a Healer. Madam Pomfrey, you see, has a wide knowledge of Potions in her head. But she dares not to brew them herself, and concerning the use of herbs, she likely entrusts Professor Sprout with the task.”, Harry frowned and blinked at once. “Oh pardon me, if you believed she was almighty.”
“Actually,”
“That is what she tries to make everyone believe, yes. She is very full of herself. No doubt she is skilled, and of course she boasts about it in a way everyone takes it as humbleness, but in fact, when it comes to methods she has never laid hand on herself or seen proof of their efficiency; and if it is merely old domestic remedy; Poppy becomes a cowardly whimpering puppy.”
“Good to know,”, Harry smirked.
“I trust you not to tell anyone what I just said to you,”
“Of course. I’m as silent as a grave.”
The reaction on that common phrase though unexpectedly shocked him a little. Within a split second, the hint of anger slipped off the pallid face and those dark eyes became more hollow than he had ever seen them, while the lips drifted ajar. Needing some seconds, his teacher’s lungs sought in a lot of air which left him less dramatic, but trembling, and the lids blinked several times, gently somehow, yet with a hint of sadness. A sadness that began to crawl onto Harry’s face as well, but before he could feel it show, the man straightened and meant to go for the office door. Harry stopped him.
“What you said to me – after Sirius death – about wishing someone dead thoughtlessly – ”, torn between two urges, Severus halted at about the side edge of the desk. “Do – do you believe that?”, for some moments he just pondered what he should actually do, but eventually decided for his own chair behind the desk, on which he sat down.
“I have – ”, he began quietly, but fleetingly cleared his throat and went on more composed. “I have evidence, I’m afraid.”
“Many – many people – did – ”
“Almost none of my students hadn’t wished me the oddest deaths in times; the most creative I have heard of so far, I believe, was that the snake on the Slytherin crest in the common room would spring to life one day and hunt me through the entire castle, until I cannot run away anymore. Charming people, you Gryffindors.”
“Yes.”, Harry pondered, avoiding his eyes, and swallowed hard. “I – wished you dead – ”, the unmistakable guilt in Harry’s eyes that were fixated on the box between them, did as much fascinate him, as it troubled him. “At the Start-Of-Term Feast.”
“Did you believe it? Mean it?”
“Er – I’m not – sure – ”
“Then why bothering?”, Harry’s head raised, their eyes meeting, more than ever, and he was somehow a little glad about the sudden change of topic that came.
“How d’you do that? Convincing him?”, he knew whom Harry meant, but waited for him continue, not breaking eye contact. “How can you make him believe, that you’re working for him, pretending that you work for us in order to get insider information, while it’s actually the other way round? Or – is it? I mean, you seem to be good enough to make him believe, but who tells me that it is exactly that way round and that you don’t – ”
“You see, I have been told to own a certain talent for persuasion. Apparently, this appears to be true. I have my ways, yes. But surely, Professor Dumbledore also told you, that there exists another one with such an ability.”
“Voldemort.”
“Yes. While most people, even among his followers, are too afraid to not obey his wishes, I have figured methods to impress him, while not playing a total show-off. That would just be counterproductive, given that he sees himself as the ultimate one, the only person with the right opinion, with the greatest intentions. I tell you something now, I have never confirmed to anyone.”
“Which is?”
“The Dark Lord, is not as powerful as he claims to be. He might have done his best to diverge from this state, but he is still some sort of human being. And those, have flaws. It is the nature of every tyrant to seek for those flaws in people and use them for his or her own benefit. However, they tend to overlook that they themselves are flawed. I find it highly entertaining to show him his lacks in the most subtle ways, so he alone sees them. If others did, he might blame me for it, and therefore have a good reason to kill me.”
“So you’re – ”
“After all, and although people tend to question my methods, I used to be a successful teacher for many years, able to make people remember the words I had said to them, even years after, when they actually need it, and yet they find themselves embarrassed enough to admit their defeat so long time ago.”
“I confess,”, Harry frowned boredly, “I had just thought of using a Bezoar in both a lesson for antidotes as well as Ron’s accidental poisoning, just because you taunted me in our very first lesson.”
“You see,”
“Yes. But you still didn’t answer my question, Sir. How can you understand Voldemort? In a way to know how he thinks, but not making him notice or doubt you?”
“Oh, he does doubt me, but as I said, I can be very convincing. A trait I have taken advantage of hilariously many times in my life, for the one or other cause. I do see the world neither from my usual point of view alone, nor completely objective; I see it as whole, consisting of zillions of tiny pieces of a puzzle, each and every living being, the same for themselves. We are nothing but differently arranged energy. Once you understood its vague way of travelling in a certain field, you can draw conclusions from that.”
“You mean, you do nothing but – dismantling – a gadget of nature?”
“Very well phrased, indeed. Yes, so, while I bothered to study and understand the Dark Lord as a whole individual, as well as an accumulation of many, many bits of various kinds, for others who are too insecure about their own abilities and therefore frightened to even consider the possibility to understand him, the Dark Lord has ever been, and will ever be, a riddle.”
Severus could prevent a smirk from moving his lips, however, he couldn’t help throwing Harry the flicker of a wink. But what that did to the boy, once he got the hint, prevented every possible cheer from leaving himself: with a sighed chuckle, Harry closed his eyes, lowered his head once more and started laughing brightly.
Just to watch him lean back into the chair, with his head gliding into his neck, the closed eyes, the broad grin, the whole body trembling with sudden joy – and then, the eyes, like in slow motion, the green eyes became visible again by the lids lifting. It had been so long ago, Severus could hardly believe it to have been in the same life, when Harry had stood there, yet much smaller, but some snowflakes on his mess of thick black hair, those eyes behind the glasses that still fitted him, and the cheeks below a bright red once he had realised he had gotten a present, with the same cheer, the same sparkle in the green sea, a smile more honest, more true than anything in the world.
Only seconds, it had lasted, only seconds before it slid off, became confusion, concern.
“Sir?”, Harry whispered.
Feeling it just when they did, his lips closed softly, and he knew it wasn’t much, though distinct enough for Harry to see it. That much he could tell from the next change in his expression. Now the boy’s lips drifted open with an obvious sensation and Severus shortly closed his own eyes, his head bending closer to his chest with a deep breath.
“Forgive me.”, he sighed in return. “It doesn’t happen all too often that you laugh in my presence. Especially not, that it has been my silly words to – ”
“Not at all.”, meant Harry, and he could then see the gentle hint of a smile that came back to Harry’s face, understanding that he must have looked the same. “It was a surprisingly pleasant change.”
Merely a few seconds later, after forbidden lingering, Severus decided it was better to get up and do what Harry had asked him to do many minutes ago. With a sigh of his own, though wordless, Harry followed him outside.
Walking to his right, he passed the blue torches of the underground corridor with him, towards the spiral staircase to the Entrance Hall. Though halfway up, heavy panting and loud, fast shoes tore Harry from his thoughts. He could barely press his back against the wall. Everything was just a blue lighted black mass, stumbling back downstairs. A loud, high pitched gasp. Even more intense panting. It sounded like someone was close to suffocate. Utterly confused, Harry took the few stairs to the ground in reverse, where he saw him against the wall, obviously towering a student.
Her breath became dangerously close to actual suffocating now. Then she was already laid down flat on the corridor floor, eyes wide open in panic as she struggled for air. Horror rushed through Harry’s veins and bones when he recognised her.
“Breathe slowly.”, his soft, low voice tried to calm her down, his left hand under her head and the right on her shoulder. “Concentrate on your breath. Only your breath. In and out. And in, and out.”. looking straight up at his face, she followed his orders, though her inhaling still sounded very alarming.
“Hermione – ”, Harry aspirated and he knew immediately he had done the wrong thing.
Her head had rushed at him and her breath got stuck. The rattling was arrows of ice to Harry’s blood and he felt that the terror on his face was nothing short of hers.
“Don’t look at him.”, Severus was still serene. “Look at me. Breathe. Slow. Slow. Calm down.”, his right hand was now on her cheek. “You are safe. Just breathe.”, her eyes fell shut and she swallowed in between, but she could actually breathe easier. “Sh, sh, sh.”, his voice became an even softer whisper. “Everything is all right.”
The words struck Harry as much as her. A familiar feeling shot through him. The feeling of warming arms, rocking him back to sleep. He tried to lock it out, when Hermione started to weep quietly.
“Sh. Don’t cry. You are safe here. Everything is fine. Don’t cry.”, her breath had calmed down, but it trembled from her crying now.
“M-make it – s-stop – ”, Hermione gargled in tears. “H-hurts – so much – ”
Only then Harry saw what had happened. He stepped closer to her head, the shock back. Her clothes were soaked with blood at her chest and Harry recognised the wound to be exactly along the scar she had kept form the battle in the Ministry last year. Paralysed by the familiarity of the situation, he could hardly grasp the words past his flashing memories.
“Hold her head, Harry.”
“What?”
“Hold her head, for Heaven’s sake!”
“Right – ”, Harry knelt down and shoved his hands beneath his friend’s bushy brown hair, the tips of his fingers briefly meeting the hand that pulled back.
A long black wand was drawn from his left sleeve and wandered down the blood trail. The song-like incantation Harry had heard him mutter before, zoomed the still trickling blood under the fabric back into her wound and closed it. A finishing flick and Hermione’s clothes looked as though nothing had happened to them. Now it all broke into her. She cried heavily and trembled on the floor, against the calming hand that was pressed to her shoulder again, her head quivering in Harry’s palms.
“Who did this to you?”, Severus asked softly.
“P-”, she sniffed, “P-”, one more try, “Peeves – ”, Hermione chuckled feebly, her eyes remaining closed.
“All right. Can you breathe?”, she nodded. “Does it still hurt?”, she shook her head. “Where?”
“What?”
“Where is he?”
“Was on watch – heard – looked – ”
“Where.”, he pleaded.
“Class-classroom – the – classroom – up – seventh floor – ”
“Good. You stay with her. Bring her to your House as soon as she can walk.”, leaving Harry speechless, he stormed upstairs.
“Harry – ”, Hermione gasped so quietly, he almost missed it again, though his eyes were on her instantly when he realised.
“Hermione – are you – ”
“Yeah.”, she tried to sit up, but couldn’t without his help. “What were you – doing on the stairs?”, she was still just whispering. “With him?”
“He wanted to escort me upstairs.”
“And your detention?”, Harry was surprised by how good her brain was working, even in her state.
“Er – cancelled.”
“Cancelled?”, Hermione giggled, but coughed atrocious immediately.
“I think, you shouldn’t laugh.”
“Oh really?”, she let out a sarcastic groan. “Why did he cancel it? First he was so eager to move it to today and now he’s cancelled it?”
~~#~~
Tapping. Impatient tapping of a shoe on stone floor. Curling lips, a furious stare down the corridor. Crossed arms. An old oaken door materialised to his right in the wall he leaned against. He didn’t take his eyes off the corridor when it opened.
Silent tears. Something white clutched in his hand, lifeless. The door vanished behind and he walked straight forward, trying to dry his tears with his sleeve.
“Is this what you call wise?”
The boy spun around on his heels, dropping the messed feather ball in shock. Seeing the angry face, he started crying once more.
“You lost something.”, Draco jumped and looked down, letting out a miserable whimper. “Why.”
“Why what.”, he picked up the dead bird.
“Why did you do that.”
“Did what.”
“Don’t worry. She couldn’t speak openly in front of Harry. He believes, Peeves attacked her, or so I hope, he does. But we both know the truth. And he isn’t dumb, so – ”
“The Mudblood was spying on me!”, Draco cried.
“Don’t call her like this.”
“But she is!”
“That is an awful word, Draco.”
“Tz.”, Severus took a deep breath, shook his head and went over to him.
“So, what did she do to you? Did she hurt you? Threat you?”, Draco avoided his look. “Did she give you any reason that justifies – ”
“Justify? What justified Potter – ”, his sentence was shut by a forceful hand on his chin, turning his head.
“He had no idea what the spell would cause.”
“How can you know?”, Draco mumbled angrily, not looking into his eyes that hit him like hot iron needles. “Read his mind?”
“Whereas you know exactly what it causes. So?”
“Yes. I know exactly what I do, Sir.”
“No, you don’t.”
“And she had no right to nose around.”
“It was her watch. She had all right to. You, on the other hand, hadn’t. It’s not your day. But it is your birthday and it disappoints me to see how you spend it.”
“You got it, Sir. It is my birthday.”, he snarled, “If you excuse me now,”, he seized his teacher’s hand, “I’d like to go to bed.”, and squeezed the dead bird into it.
“Draco – ”, hasty footsteps down the corridor, the boy spun once again.
“Ah you caught him already, Severus!”, the little man called, a girl with dark hair and skin in tow. “Well, well.”, none of the other three saw the plumed white thing disappear in the pocket of a black robe and a wand being drawn. “According to Miss Patil here, he attacked Miss Granger?”, the two had closed up. “With an evil spell?”, Draco frowned at the strange movement of Parvati’s eyes.
“No, Sir!”, the girl sang. “I said, she was bleeding like hell! And he witnessed it! It was Peeves who attacked her!”
“Peeves? What? But – ”, Flitwick was confused. “Didn’t you just say – ”, he looked around between the three, “But – Malfoy – ”
“No, Filius. It was Peeves. I already got him. He confessed.”
“Oh.”, visible depletion emerged on his face.
“You should bring Miss Patil back to her House.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll do that.”, Flitwick sighed. “Come on, girl.”
Once they were gone, drab silence was back in the corridor. It seemed like hours passing, hours in which Draco only stared down at the distant wall before the corridor turned left, ignoring the eyes piercing into his neck.
“You should give that to Loony Lovegood, Professor.”, he then huffed and began to walk in the direction he still faced, “She likes animals that are connected to death.”, and stumbled as something small hit the back of his head. “Ow!”, he rubbed the area and turned around, finding himself presented with the most livid look his Head of House had ever given him. “You – you just – ”, his eyes wandered down to the white misery on the battered stone tiles and back up, “Threw a – you hit me with a dead bird, Sir!”
Without a sound, Severus became only a mass of black fog, making Draco’s clothes flutter as he rushed by and turned invisible even before he flew around the corner. But the boy didn’t see it. His lips curled and his grey eyes became lakes again. With a sniff, he crouched down, and carefully picked up the lifeless white bird, holding it gently to his heart with both hands. A cry echoed from the ancient walls of the empty corridor and his chin dropped to the tiny head that peeked out atop, his eyes falling shut like the bird’s were.
~~#~~
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