One Life for Another

The room was painfully quiet as Hermione sat waiting for Draco’s return. She had Nimue’s notes laid out before her, studying the instructions for controlling the flow of dark magic. After about three hours of reading she was fairly certain she got the gist, but she had to wait for Draco to get back before she could actually attempt it.

When he got back, they would practice. She kept reiterating the ‘when’ in her mind. He’d been summoned before Voldemort, and even if he didn’t show concern in front of her, Hermione knew that it was dangerous for him. A moment’s lapse in control and Voldemort would see him for who he now was, and what he now wanted.

With a loud sigh she bent back over the notes, trying to learn them so well that they’d be as good as engraved in her mind.

I really must impress upon you the importance of your role as Dame. I know that you are, rather painfully, aware of the power and evil of your Dark Lord, this Voldemort. That doesn’t mean you understand the importance of this skill. And trust me when I say that, when all is said and done, you will agree with me about your original naivety.

Magic is something everywhere around you. When you use your wand to cast a spell, you are essentially applying the magic that surrounds you to a specific purpose. As Dame, it is within your ability to feel this magic, and to filter or guide the flow of it as suits your purpose. Think of the Lake as a conduit, as are Avalon and the Stone Henge when accessed through it. If you close your eyes and reach out, you should be able to feel their presence. If you have difficulty, then go to those places and memorize the feel of them, then search for that distinct feel when you are back at the Lake. It may seem difficult, but try not to overanalyze it. Once accomplished, you will find the process unbelievably simple.

Once you have mastered reaching out and sensing the magic around you, begin to learn the distinct feel of different types of magic. The essence of magic, which permeates everything and simply exists around us, will feel a certain way to each Dame and thus I can not tell you for sure what you will sense. Active magic, which is being tapped into with spells, will feel another. And that active magic that is accomplished through dark spells feels another way altogether. Dark magic tends to feel similarly to most Dames. It is dark, not like solid black but more like a looming shadow, and seems almost smothering. To me it is like a thick fog that is unnaturally colored. To the Dame that taught me it was almost like mud. If you ask your Protector or a trusted friend to perform different spells near you, you will see what I mean.

Practice at first with magic being performed in the same room. Once you have accomplished that you will be able to extend your senses, reaching out further and further until few areas of Britain are beyond your reach. If you cannot get far enough, tap into Avalon or the Stone Henge and then extend your reach from their energies. It helps at times.
Above all, you must become so completely comfortable with your abilities that when the time comes there will be no hesitation before you act. You must know, instinctively, what must be done and do it without any thought of failure. If you do this, then the Dark Lord you fight against will have no chance of victory.

By the end of the page Hermione had closed her eyes and begun reciting Nimue’s words from memory. She had practiced reaching out as Nimue described, and she was beginning to sense the magic around her. Or, at least, she thought she was. It was really hard to tell whether it was ability or imagination that she was sensing, and she wouldn’t be able to until she had someone to help her practice.

“Ugh,” she said aloud to herself, “what is taking Draco so long?”

Only seconds later she heard footsteps descending the stairs and pale blonde hair came into sight. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, she thought to herself, amused. Rising from her seat and meeting him at the door, she kissed his lips briefly and helped him remove the Death Eater garb. She waited for him to speak first, not knowing just how bad the meeting may have been.

“It could have been worse,” Draco said in answer to the unspoken question. “He wasn’t really interested in me tonight. He had other’s he wished to crucio.”

Hermione shuddered, knowing all too well the horrors of the Cruciatus. “Did you learn anything of the attack on Grimmauld Place?”

“A little,” he said, moving over to a chair and pulling her with him. “He wasn’t pleased with the results, and it was those responsible for the attack that he was so angry with tonight. Apparently everyone in the Order got away with only a few injuries sustained, and he lost a Death Eater in the process. He accused several of attempting to thwart the attack. I’m not among those he’s deemed guilty or I wouldn’t have made it out of there.”

“I’ve been thinking about the Order,” said Hermione. “I think, maybe, it’s time to invite certain members here and explain everything to them. They’d be safe here, at the very least.”

Draco nodded briefly. “We can do that later. For now, how did that studying go?”

“I know her notes word for word, but I don’t know how far that will get me. Sometimes I close my eyes and I think I can feel the magic around me, and then other times I’m certain it’s just my imagination.”

“Close your eyes, Hermione,” he said softly, playing gently with her hair as he spoke. “Close your eyes and do as she instructed. Try to feel it, and tell me when you think you sense a change.”

She closed her eyes obediently and reached out with her mind. To her, the magic she believed she felt was almost like a warm breeze on a summer day. It was comfortable, and seemed to caress the skin and sooth the mind. “I think I feel it. It’s like I-- oh...”

Draco smirked, though she couldn’t see it as her eyes were still closed and a look of wonder on her face. He knew it would come easily to her. Midsentence he had silently cast Wingardium Leviosa on a quill across the room. It was silently dancing in the air, and she had noticed the flow of magic immediately.

A moth was fluttering around the room when Draco noticed it and changed his practicing techniques. Being a Death Eater, however young of one, had certain perks, and he was fully capable of casting a silent Imperius. He felt Hermione go stiff in his arms immediately, and the look of wonder faded into one of disgust. “Oh, Merlin, stop it, Draco. Stop...”

He continued manipulating the moth. “No, Hermione,” he said. “You stop it. You can do it. I know you can. Cut off the flow.”

Hermione’s fingernails dug painfully into his shoulders as she tried to do as he asked. To her, dark magic was not like mud nor was it like a thick fog. Oh, those were present to be sure, but it was so much more. To her, it was like an intensified version of a Dementor’s presence. She wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t. Finally she just imagined sunlight and clear, blue skies. As she did so, the darkness stopped. She no longer felt the cold and despair. Cautiously she opened her eyes, wondering if Draco had just given up on her.

Draco was grinning at her and upon opening her eyes he kissed her enthusiastically. In that enthusiasm, she could see Galahad shining through. “You did it, cariad.”

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. He hadn’t stopped. She had stopped it. She did it. She actually managed to stop the flow. Once she got past the disbelief, her excitement threatened to have her going all over Britain stopping people’s spells in progress. “I’ll need more practice,” she said happily, “but I think this may be the time to bring the Order in. At least some of them.”

He wasn’t exactly happy at the prospect of having the Order around, but he could see her point and felt compelled to concede. “Alright, some of them. Unless I’m very much mistaken, Professor Snape is one of them. I wouldn’t mind telling him.”

“How did you know?” she asked, very surprised. Snape had always seemed gifted in his ability to keep his true allegiances quiet.

“I didn’t,” he said, “until the attack on your headquarters. I got to see him in action when the rest of the Death Eaters weren’t around. He wasn’t... well... he wasn’t being quite so cruel to Order members as the Snape I’m used to seeing. He was casting plenty of hexes, but nothing that would cause permanent damage. I was looking for you, though, and I think he’s used to others being too involved in their fighting to notice what hexes he casts.”

“Ah,” said Hermione, snickering. “I guess it’s just your Slytherin tendencies at work. I don’t think I would have seen anything but a sinister Snape no matter what. Except maybe if he was playing with kittens, but I’m fairly certain I’ll never see that. Alright. How about Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley, and Remus Lupin? I trust them all, and I think they will do well with keeping it from the rest of the Order if that’s what we decide to do. Of course, Harry and Ron will have to know too. They won’t accept anything less than the truth when I’m not present for the battle.”

Looking back on things, Galahad couldn’t help but respect the other two thirds of the Golden Trio. At least somewhat. Draco, on the other hand, thought no better of them than he thought of the rest of the Order. Simpering fools, to his way of thinking. Not like Hermione at all. She’d always been brilliant and courageous, ordering Potter and Weasley around whenever she felt the necessity. Potter had begun to get a bit better, at least showing more of that infamous Gryffindor bravery. Weasley, on the other hand, was one that Draco doubted he’d ever care for.

Still, Hermione was, as usual, quite correct. It was inevitable, and Draco would deal with it. “What would you like me to do, cariad?”

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A/N: The term Cariad, which I used in this chapter and may incorporate again later, is a Welsh word meaning ‘love’ or ‘dear.’ I wanted something a little more original to use, something that I could easily imagine Galahad as using. While I could have looked to a couple of languages/dialects for it, I felt that Welsh would do nicely. :)

Thank you so much to everyone who has been leaving such lovely reviews, indulging me in my neediness. It really does help along those muses and it's great to hear that others are enjoying the story as I am.