Midnight Grace

Chapter Summary: Draco and Tia head back to the school after having a conversation that puts a lot of things into perspective for Tia – or at least should have. But Draco can’t resist being his usual sarcastic self, even as Tia is trying to help him.
Meanwhile Coultier and Pansy discuss her motivations while Jo and Thane hide out in a farmer’s barn from the sudden downpour.


Chapter 12: Revelations


Draco pulled Tia out of the back door, which he had only minutes ago entered. He released her arm without looking at her, and took a few steps away from her, turning his back to her. He ran his right hand through his white-blonde hair, as though he were trying to snare one of the many thoughts that were flooding his mind right now.

“I thought you said you’d be careful,” he finally said to the trees opposite them, his head slightly bowed.

Tia rubbed her arm where Draco had gripped it. It was sore and it aggravated her to no end. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t you?” he asked, his hand running through his hair again. He turned around and caught her green eyes with grey ones, leaving them unguarded for only a moment as he asked, “Why?”

Tia felt her heart vacate her chest, leaving it empty and hollow as she caught a flicker of something she didn’t want to see in his eyes. She unconsciously clutched at her heart with both hands, as if trying to find the beat that was no longer there.

Seeing her reaction, Draco turned away from her again and examined the trees shadowed by the dark clouds swirling overhead. What was he doing? Nothing made sense. His father, Tia, Coultier – it was all like a bad dream from which he desperately wanted to be awakened.

Finding her strength and her heart once again, Tia stepped toward Draco and reached out a hand to touch his arm. She was startled again when he retreated even further from her, cradling his arm next to his body. Well, she had certainly had enough of his odd behavior after the day she’d just lived and wasn’t about to let him just walk away. She pushed all unwanted thoughts from her mind and grabbed Draco’s hand, pulling him around until he was facing her and she tried to touch his arm again.

“Will you stop that?” Draco bellowed, trying to pull his arm away without success.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, her green eyes narrowed at him as she grabbed his sleeve and lifted it. He heart once again took leave of her as she look down at his blood-caked arm. Her eyes shot up to meet his once more, wide and questioning.

Draco pulled his sleeve back down quickly, his heart fleeing somewhere to meet with Tia’s as he turned around again. There was nothing else he could do. He had nowhere to go and no one to tell. His best friend was inside half-cocked and completely useless. He had never felt so alone.

“Don’t be stupid, Draco,” said Tia, grabbing his hand firmly and turning him around again. “If you don’t get that taken care of right now it will get infected and then you’ll have a lot more to explain.

“Come on, let’s get back to the castle,” she said, ignoring the suspicious look he gave her, and started to lead him down the alleyway. “I have something that should heal it up nicely.”

“That’s all well and good, but the castles back that way,” he said matter-of-factly while pointing behind him.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes at him and they both managed a smile.


Pansy found herself being unceremoniously drug from the Hog’s Head by Michal Coultier. Craning her neck, she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes searching for her beautiful Draco, who had apparently escaped.

The front door banged shut behind then and Michael pulled her into the nearest alley. Still holding onto her wrist, he threw his hood back with his free hand, shaking his head, his dark brown hair falling easily into place.

“We need to talk,” he said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the girl in his grasp.

“I need to find Draco,” Pansy whined, looking desperately towards the gap of cobblestone street. “Before it’s too late!”

“You mean before Tia’s had a chance to defend herself,” he snapped. Pursing his lips, he glared at her. “What are you playing at, Parkinson?”

“Nothing!” she cried, tugging on her arm, trying to free herself.

“Then what was that little show in the pub all about? Calling Tia a whore and pointing out what she was ‘doing’?” he demanded, his ice blue eyes probing and angry.

“I was only trying to help you!” she cried, her mind racing ahead of her words to try to work out the lie before she spoke it. Things hadn’t gone as planned and she wasn’t prepared for any of this.

“Help!? Help me what? Take her away from him? I have no love for Malfoy, but I’m not out to steal the girl who’s willingly attached to him! You know that.” He let go of her arm. “Let me guess, once they’re split up you’ll go after Malfoy? Why? How could you want him? Didn’t you notice the way he treated you?”

She waved his objections away. “He’s under a lot of stress. You don’t understand – no one does,.” Pansy shook her head. Her poor Draco, deprived of his father and forced to listen to snickering remarks from those lesser than himself on a daily basis. It was a wonder he hadn’t cracked under the strain of it all yet– and when he finally did, Volusia wouldn’t be there to help him! No, she’d disappear with the next rich bloke that wandered along, leaving Draco alone in his time of need – a need that she was sure only she could truly fulfill.

“You said Tia was ready to leave him,” Michael argued, changing tactics.

“She is! Didn’t you SEE the way she reacted? You notice she told HIM to stop, not you! She didn’t defend him against you, she gave him orders,” Pansy sniffed. “And the way he jerked her around-“

“He treated you both deplorably,” Coultier agreed. “I was serious about what I told Purefoy. I won’t stand by and watch females being treated that way. I’ve seen it before and I won’t tolerate it ever again!” He grimaced at the memory of his sister’s tears, the gold wedding band dropping from her fingers to fall to the floor. Her husband had been just like Malfoy, rich, important and so full of himself that he thought of his women as nothing more than a decorative piece of property to be punished and neglected as he saw fit.

“He’s not like that!” Pansy argued. “He’s under stress, and then Volusia is making it worse!”

“If they’re so miserable then why are they together?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d begun to doubt the truth to a lot of Pansy’s statements, but since Malfoy was involved he wasn’t entirely sure what was fact and what was fiction; not to mention Tia had spoken to him freely. She’d even been friendly, until that American girl had mentioned Draco, and then Tia had suddenly acted almost… fearful that Draco might discover them together. Was she scared of him? If he was behaving the way he’d behaved today then it was highly possible that she was.

“She’s a Kavanaugh,” Pansy answered coldly. Yes, she’d done her research, she knew all about that family, all about the money they had slowly collecting cobwebs in Gringot’’s vaults, and all about their influence. “Imagine his family’s joy.”

“A Kavanaugh?” Coultier’s eyebrow’s shot up. He’d had no idea that she was a member of that family! It did explain a lot of things, after all, such as why Tia was willing to put up with Malfoy. No doubt she had a lot of pressure from her family as well.

“Yes,” Pansy replied, looking down her nose at the entire idea. “But regardless of her name she lacks the breeding.”

“Enough insults,” he ordered, his hand cutting through the air. “If I find out you’re lying to me, Parkinson...” he trailed off, unsure what he’d actually do to her should he discover this was a trick. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to hex her; despite her repugnant personality she was a female.

“Ask her,” Pansy answered smugly. “I heard her talking to Constantinescu. They’re very thick, you know. Always talking about something,” she smiled wickedly as an idea formed in her brain. “How else do you think I know how she feels about him? Volusia didn’t tell me herself, you know!” Pansy felt that was a nice touch and gave the entire thing a scope of believability.

“No, I doubt she would,” he agreed, tilting his head in thought and trying to determine if the girl before him was telling the truth. “You have one last shot, Parkinson, but only because I saw for myself the way he handled her.”

Pansy smiled at him, “You won’t regret it, Coultier. You’ll rescue your Tia and once they’re apart you’ll see how much better Draco will be!”

“I doubt that,” Michael snorted, looking up as the first fat raindrop landed on his hand. “There’s no way to improve a Malfoy, they’re rotten to the core.”

Jo’s mind was filled with visions of torturing Tia as she half carried Thane Purefoy out of the dingy pub. She’d been abandoned her, plane and simple, and left to deal with this! Thane was so drunk he could hardly stand and somehow she was expected to get him back to the school?!

Her first impulse had been a levitating charm, but he’d had such a fit at the entire suggestion that she’d put her wand away and physically hauled him out of the establishment, the onlookers staring once more while trying to look disinterested. No doubt it wasn’t every day that they got to watch customers being heaved out the doors by a girl.

The sky overhead rumbled with thunder, threatening rain, and Jo glanced up at the dark, heavy clouds. “I don’t suppose you could actually manage some of your own weight?” she demanded testily, looking back down at Thane, her arm already aching.

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” he replied, grinning broadly, highly amused with himself.

“I won’t be for long,” she said, grunting as she caught him from falling. “My arm’s about to give up. If you won’t let me levitate you then you’ll have to walk. There’s no way I can do this all the way back to the castle.” She stopped, standing still on the cobblestone street and staring up at the sky once more. “It’s going to start pouring soon. At this pace we won’t make it back before it hits anyway. Come on, we’ll have to find somewhere to sober you up.”

This was the last thing she’d ever dreamed she’d be doing on her Hogsmeade trip, and she wasn’t entirely sure who to blame. Pansy sprang to mind because she’d been the one to cause the scene that ended in Draco grabbing Tia and running. But then again, if Tia hadn’t insisted she come none of this would be happening! Instead she’d be conveniently shopping with Liz and the ever annoying Marianna and Thane would be passed out in the Hog’s head alone….

Looking over at the raven-haired boy she sighed heavily, her guilt surfacing at the idea of abandoning him amongst a bunch of questionable strangers. He was truly pathetic at the moment, and doing that would be akin to abandoning a helpless kitten in the wilderness.

Jo took a deep breath and heaved Thane almost upright once more, hauling him down the nearest alley, her eyes searching for a spot to stash him. It would have to be somewhere private where no one would be gawking at them – despite the fact that he was Malfoy’s shadow, or perhaps because of it – it would be better if he weren’t seen in this condition. For one thing she imagined his illustrious family wouldn’t approve of it. Not that she knew much about his family except that he had a younger sister named Athena and that Purefoys were very wealthy. But, regardless, she doubted that Thane’s parents would be happy hearing stories about their son wobbling all over Hogsmeade drunk, not to mention that if a teacher caught them he was in for it!

“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?” Jo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“I’m easy, love,” he replied in lieu of an answer, grinning as he tightened his arm around her shoulders, his thumb catching the edge of her blouse and tugging it just enough to expose more of her cleavage.

“Let go of that,” Jo snapped, trying to tug her shirt back where it belonged. “And I knew that,” she rolled her eyes.

The first raindrops were falling as they reached the outskirts of town and Jo lead him into a large stone barn, its thatched roof reminiscent of days long gone in the muggle world. The structure was filled with heaps of golden hay, and Jo carefully deposited him on one of them, dropping to the floor herself and leaning against one of the crude stone support pillars.

Thane looked at the hay surrounding him and the beautiful girl sitting across from him and his lip jetted out in a slight pout. Grabbing the collar of his robes and lifting it to his nose, he breathed in loudly and dramatically. "I'm sure I showered today," he said, lifting his midnight eyes to meet Jo's crystal ones. "Or is there another reason you're sitting so far away?"

She turned to look at him in surprise; she’d been expecting a complaint about their surroundings. “Besides the fact you keep staring down my shirt, no, not particularly. This is where the pole is, and that is where the pile of hay was. I didn’t want to just drop you on the bare floor over here, you know.” She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he’d even remember this later, let alone anything that had happened in the pub.

"So, that's it," he said with a crooked grin. "You're too good to sit on a pile of hay in the company of a Purefoy, is it? And don't think I've forgotten our deal. I'll have your dress for you before end of term."

“No, I just wanted something to lean against, my back hurts from carrying someone all over town,” she rolled her eyes. So, he did remember the bet? Not that it mattered, he’d loose for sure. “If it really bothers you then come over here – though hands to yourself,” she warned.

"I expect it's from carrying around something other than myself," Thane commented wryly, he eyes not-so-subtly dropping to her breasts. "But, be that as it may, a deal is a deal. I have promised you, m'lady, that I will not lay a hand - or any other part of my person - on any part of your person that you do not deem appropriate." He was quite please with himself for getting all that out in one shot. In fact, the scuffle in the Hog's Head with Malfoy and Coultier was enough to sober him up quite a bit, but with such a beautiful escort, he didn't feel the need to rush it.

"You know, Iosifina," he said, delighting in the scowl he received for using her full name, "I would like to think my shoulder would be a right bit more comfortable than that post you're against now. And it comes entirely hands-free."

She looked at him appraisingly, not sure whether to trust him completely or not. But on the other hand what was he going to do that she couldn’t defend against? Really? And the stone was digging into her back…. “All right,” she said slowly. “But be warned, no funny business.”

Climbing to her feet she walked the short distance and tried to sit gracefully on the stack of hay, but failed miserably, the loose pile giving way beneath her so that her feet shot up in the air. Catching herself by grabbing Thane’s arm she pulled herself into an upright position, shifting around in straw.

"There, there," Thane consoled, keeping a straight face so as not to add to her embarrassment as he picked a piece of straw from her hair. "All better!" he proclaimed, dusting off her back as he guided her against his shoulder. Resting his arm on her shoulder, but carefully leaving hand his free from her body, he asked, "Is this okay? All limbs accounted for?"

Jo nodded, smoothing her hair and willing her flushing cheeks to return to normal. It had been years since she’d attempted climbing around in hay and she’d forgotten how unstable the stuff was. “Yeah, fine, she murmured.

The rain came in a sudden burst, slamming into the roof of the barn in a noisy cacophony. Jo’s head automatically snapped up, as if expecting to see the rain. “Lucky thing we made it here when we did,” she commented without thinking.

"Lucky indeed," Thane agreed, sinking back into the hay and making himself comfortable. He adjusted himself carefully, mindful of accommodating Jo, and stared up to the ceiling, listening to the thunder as it rumbled the wooden rafters. "I do so enjoy a good thunderstorm, don't you?"

She nodded absently, her eyes still on the ceiling, almost as though trying to see through it. “My grandmother used to take me for walks during them after Grandpa died.” She shrugged suddenly, unaware of what had prompted her to say that. She tried not to think too much about those times. Those memories brought back the strange, lonely ache in her chest that had appeared the day her parents had come to school to fetch her and say her Grandmother, the on person in the world who understood her, had died.

"Mum used to take me for walks in the rain. Always said it helped my temperament," he laughed, thinking back to his early childhood. "Drove my father mad," he continued, ignoring the bit of anxiety racing across his chest. "Never could see the point in having an unpresentable son, I suppose."

“Helped your temperament?” she asked, teasingly. “So you were always a handful then? It’s not a new development?” She wondered at the idea of his mother trooping around in the rain with the future heir to the Purefoy fortune, and could only imagine how annoyed it would make his father – especially if the man were anything like the rumors said he was.

"Handful's a new way to describe it," he said. "Although, Mum may disagree. She always told me she never understood why she gave birth to more Purefoys after I was born. I guess she had enough time to think about it - with three years between myself and Athena. Then she went and did it again with Nate. He starts at Hogwarts next year."

“I didn’t know you had a brother, too,” Jo commented, her eyes dropping from the rafters finally, another bout of thunder shaking the stone building. “I’m an only child. I guess after me they decided not to risk it anymore,” a hint of bitterness crept into her voice. That conversation she’d overheard her parents having now made sense to her, ever since she’d found that book in the library… “It’s a shame you’ll graduate just as he starts, though I guess he’ll have Athena still.” She really wasn’t sure how close knit they were as a family, she’d never seen him and his sister exchange more than a few words, but then again she’d never paid attention before.

"Oh, I think Nate can handle himself, but no doubt Thena will keep her eye on him. She already has that motherly way about her... seems to run in the women in my family," he commented as he shifted in the hay, ending up a bit closer to Jo before he was done.

“I take it your mother’s …. Motherly,” she grinned at how stupid the question sounded. “Mine’s a bit cool. She has her moments, but,” she shrugged. She and her mother had never seen eye to eye once that she could recall, they were radically different people and had never had anything in common.

"Well, Mum and Grandmother... although, they don't always get on well," he said, chewing his bottom lip for a moment. "Mum's always resented 'Mother Purefoy' over her shoulder. But, I'm not really sure what she expected when she moved to the compound."

“The compound?” Her eyebrows shot up as her gaze swung to the dark haired boy next to her.

Thane looked over and met the girl's surprised expression with a surprised smile of his own. "Oh, come now," he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You haven't heard of the Purefoy Estate? I thought it was a prerequisite for entry into Slytherin if you were of the female persuasion." He laughed at the very real fact that his pedigree was a topic of more than one late night dormitory discussion amongst the Slytherin girls.

Jo felt her cheeks turn pink, “No, I haven’t. All I’ve really heard is…” she stopped, not meeting his eyes and realizing that recounting all the gossip she’d heard was probably not a good idea. “Not a lot,” she lied. She’d heard quite a bit, mainly centering on Thanes activities and how much money they had and how imposing his father was and things of that nature.

"Indeed," he grinned, rolling back onto the hay and looking up at the ceiling. "Well, if you haven't heard much, I'm sure you will once we're seen at the Ball together."

She snickered, “Hardly. You’ll never win that bet, you know.”

"You seem very sure of yourself," said Thane, turning again to look at Jo. "What makes you so sure I'll fail?"

She snorted, “Oh come on. I’ve heard enough about THAT! You’ve always got some girl or another cornered somewhere. There’s no way you can make it for two months without one.”

"We'll see," he smirked, leaving his eyes unguarded for a moment. "A Purefoy never backs down from a challenge."

“And a Constatinescu rarely looses,” Jo added, grinning as she gazed back at him.

“First time for everything, love,” he winked.

****

Tia disappeared into her dormitory while Draco waited in the common room occasionally staring down the odd first year who dared look at him as he walked by. His arm ached and he kept fussing with the cuff of his sleeve as he waited for Tia to return. He began to pace the floor in front of the entrance to the girls’ dorm, his impatience getting the better of him. Patience eluded the fair-haired prefect even on his best days and today was decidedly not one of his best.

After several long minutes, Tia emerged from the carefully watched door carrying a worn brown leather satchel that was fastened with a series of leather straps and one big silver lock at the center.

“What in bloody hell is that thing?” asked Draco, his last bit of patience used up.

“Stop being such a snob,” Tia implored. “This is what’s going to save your arm from infection and your neck from Madam Pomfrey!”

Her eyes bored holes through him, her tolerance for Draco’s attitude waning after the scene at the Hog’s Head. She was suspended somewhere between wanting to care for the boy and knocking his block off, but she figured the latter wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“Well come on then,” said Draco, grabbing Tia’s hand and pulling her after him. “We can’t exactly do anything here.”

They ended up in an older section of the dungeons that was no longer used academically. Peeves, the Hogwarts poltergeist, haunted these corridors when the Bloody Baron would let him, so not many students ventured down this way. But, Draco had found it useful when he needed time away from prying eyes or just needed time to think.

Slipping into a classroom long ago abandoned, Tia waved her wand and cleaned up some of the dust and dirt that layered the old furniture and laid her satchel on a small table. Draco took a seat on the large teacher’s desk pushed up against the wall opposite her and watched with a raised brow as she opened the leather case. Inside there were three tiers of phials and bottles containing herbs and liquids in a variety of colors.

“Does Professor Snape know you have all that?” he asked, impressed that his girlfriend had been able to smuggle such an amount of contraband into Hogwarts undetected.

“No, and I’d like to keep it that way,” said Tia matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing illegal in here and my grandmother would have my hide should it come up missing.”

She pulled out some gauze and soaked it in a clear solution and placed it in a small bowl. She then pulled out a small brown jar and turned to face Draco. “Roll up your sleeve.”

A smirk turned up the corner of the Draco’s mouth as Tia walked toward him. There was a demanding, nasty tone to her voice and she was acting as if she wanted nothing to do with him right now. And for some reason, he liked it. He did as he was told, pushing up his sleeve until his mark and bloody wound were revealed. Once Tia reached him, she set the bowl and small jar on the desk to his right side and he picked up the jar, looking it over.

“What is all this stuff anyway?” he asked, turning the jar over in his hand. Draco had excelled in Potions and Herbology, but he couldn’t identify the contents in the solution or the cream.

“Will you put that down,” Tia demanded, taking the jar from his hand and setting it down again. She moved the bowl to his left side and held his arm over it. “Just sit still and let me do this.”

“OW! That hurts!” Draco protested as Tia squeezed the solution from the gauze and let it wash over the wound. He tried to pull his arm back, but Tia’s grip held it firmly in place as he breathed in the acidic smell of the clear liquid. “What in bloody hell are you doing to me?”

“Do you want your arm to fall off?” Tia snapped, her green eyes boring holes through him. “Because I can let it go if you can.”

“You’re in a right mood tonight,” said Draco as he met her burning gaze. She looked more beautiful to him now than she ever had before – her cheeks flushed in aggravation and her eyes narrowed and looking at him appraisingly.

“And why shouldn’t I?” asked Tia, again tending to his wound. “After that scene you made at the Hog’s Head. What should you expect? You made us both look like a couple of jerks. Is that okay with you?”

“How did I do that?” Draco defended, befuddled as to how he had made anyone look like anything. He had walked into a bad situation after leaving an even worse situation, and in his eyes, he’d handled the whole debacle fairly well. It was then that Tia decided to apply the cream from the jar.

“Ah! What is that?” Draco bellowed with his usual dramatic flair.

“Oh, give me a break. I’ve been using this for weeks,” said Tia with a roll of her eyes. “How do you think I’ve been making it to class in the mornings after our late nights?”

“So, that gives you a right to torture me?”

“Yes, actually, it does. That and the fact you acted like the blasting end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt!” she declared, rubbing the blue cream into his skin with little regard for his personal comfort.

“And what would you have me do? Let you leave with that mindless gollum, Coultier?” he asked incredulously. Could she really have wanted to go with that idiot?

“I’m not something your father has acquired for you, you know? I don’t belong to you and it’s not like you’ve staked your claim anyway,” she said, rinsing his arm once again with the clear solution as she stared into his stormy grey eyes.

“Would you prefer I tattoo my initials on your forehead?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

“And what kind of stupid thing is THAT to say?” asked Tia, gripping his arm roughly as she practically ground the blue cream into his arm again. “And stop squirming. You’re acting like a girl!”

Draco’s smirk left his face, but he was soon distracted by the light emanating from Tia’s hand as it hovered over his wound, the cream glowing brightly as her hand passed over it. His skin began to tingle and warm as the cream began to heal his poorly cauterized wound.

“What are you doing?”

“You know, for being so adept at Potions, you sure do ask a lot of questions,” Tia said sarcastically as she let her hand run the length of his forearm once again.

“Doesn’t it say something that I even trust you to do such things?” he asked, meeting her green eyes with his grey ones.

“I don’t know, does it?”

Tia pulled more gauze from her case and returned to Draco’s arm to finish dressing his wound. She wrapped the final piece around his arm and sealed it with her wand. “Leave that dressing on it for two days, and I’ll change it again later. It should be healed by next weekend. Of course, you’ll have to be wary of who you let see it… and when is your next Quidditch match anyway? You don’t want anyone on any of the teams catching a glimpse of it. That wouldn’t be good at all.”

“Well, thank you Professor Obvious for your observations… I’ll take them under advisement…”

Tia grunted and turned to put her things away in her satchel, leaving Draco with a look of glaring disapproval before leaving his eyes. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing at. He hadn’t talked to her at all about being his girlfriend, and she felt him to be somewhat presumptuous that she should abide by his rules. Of course, she had no real interest in Michael Coultier beyond his charming smile and somewhat bewitching ice-blue eyes, but she had no desire to give up what fun she was having with Draco for a shot at whatever Michael had to offer her. Draco was bloody mental and most likely playing his hand to keep her under control. Well, if there was one thing her mother had taught her, it was that no one, especially a spoiled-rotten Malfoy, was going to control her.