No Longer Helpless

Chapter Thirteen
Procrastination is Key

The sound of crickets trilling their song drifted all the way up through Draco’s window. Calming and peaceful he rested his back and head against the headboard, propped and cushioned by pillows. By doing this he was better able to watch Hermione as she slept on.

The sun would be rising in little under an hour, and that would be their day’s start. Once the golden light pierced the night and crept over the horizon, his dream would end. While excuses had been made, they could not last. Dawn would mean they would talk, dawn would mean the know-it-all Granger would come to her senses and want nothing to do with him.

So he relished the last few moments he would have her in his arms willingly. If she woke up as the kitten, going on nothing but instincts, then he was almost positive she would cling to him and admit to feeling attracted to him. But, he knew what was to come. She would wake up, stable minded again, and fall into character.

The Gryffindor in her would never allow an attraction for a Slytherin. The loyal and dutiful friendship she had with Potter and Weasley would never allow her to develop feelings for a Malfoy. The levelheaded bookworm in her would never allow a boy to stand in the way of studying. The Order member in her would view any relationship as a possible casualty in a time of war.

As his hopes felt dashed and his light grew dim, he wondered about something. While he had so much going against him, there was a possibility for in his favor. Her alter ego seemed nothing but a bundle of instincts. If she feared something or someone she made it known, if she wanted something she hung on to it relentlessly. If that part were still there, then it would mean even if Granger was sound of mind, a small instinctive bit of her would want him.

“Kitten,” he whispered, hardly audible, into Hermione’s ear. She shifted slightly, but remained sleeping. “Come out and play kitten,” he said a little louder this time, having unfounded confidence in what he was doing.

Dark chocolate eyes snapped open, dilated in the nighttime setting.

Draco smirked as he watched a short play of emotions cross the girl’s face. Having succeeded, he now had a few questions. “Who are you?”

Having finally found Draco again, she wasted no time in latching onto him. “You left me!” she sobbed into his neck.

Awkwardly stroking her hair, he pressed, “Who are you?” While it had been the kitten that had triggered everything, his lack of any heated feelings for her was an obvious indication that it was the insufferable know-it-all he was attracted to.

“Granger,” she intoned, smiling as though she had done something helpful.

Pushing her back away from him, trying to impress a certain wariness and importance from his end, he locked her eyes with his. “You’re not Hermione Granger.”

Tilting her head to the side in confusion, she just looked at him uncertainly.

“The Angelus,” he started saying slowly, looking for some reaction, some indication that she knew what he was on about. He continued, “are intriguing creatures.” Her eyes had widened, ever so slightly and now they seemed to become eager. “No one really knows much about them. I wondered, Granger, if you knew something that might help me become more informed?”

She nodded hesitantly. Gauging her answer on whether it would make him happy or not.

Smiling to encourage her, he asked, “Would you be able to answer a few questions?” After she nodded, this time more sure that it was a good thing she knew about the Angelus, he began, “Are you an Angelus?”

From the moment he had first met the kitten she had always been one for minimal words and a limited array of head nods and shakes. Now however, most sudden and unexpected, she sat back and stated evenly and with a confidence he wouldn’t have thought possible from her, “Yes.”

His eyes betrayed him for a split second, widening. The smirk that played across her face suddenly put him on edge. Gone was the insecure kitten, now she sat back on her haunches with an air of superiority. “Who are you?” he questioned once more, hoping repetition would eventually get him where he wanted.

Still smirking, she eyed him keenly. “I see why she likes you so much.” She waited until he was about to repeat himself yet again, before cutting in, “I am as I’ve already answered, an Angelus.”

“Yes, but a name is what I want.” He wasted no time pondering the bi-polar personality of this kitten, and launched his interrogation, hoping there might be something beneficial from it.

“You don’t need my name. If this girl proves worthy, then my name will be her own.”

“Worthy? How?” The book made no mention of anything like this.

“There is a price for information,” she said seductively, licking her lips.

He was rather unaffected by her actions, wondering how this girl who was identical to Hermione could look nothing like her at the same time. Donning his icy prince mask, he met her motion for bargaining, though dared not raise the pot himself, “Name your price.”

Still smirking, she drawled, “A single kiss.”

Smirking in return he nodded his compliance. No sooner had he raised his head than she had him pinned down, sensually exploring his mouth with her own. It was brief and rather dull on his part. As far as technique went, it would have been the best kiss he had ever received. And yet, Hermione’s quick and chaste peck from the tower far out stripped this one. Once it was over, he sat back up, slightly breathless and wiped his mouth.

“Lucky girl,” she stated simply, not at all insulted at his obvious lack of interest in her. Holding up her end of the agreement, she began, “Hermione, bless her lost little soul, has just come into her powers. I guess you could say I am her power. Right now, we’re a world a part. As you have already noticed, we’re nothing alike and can’t even be in the same place at the same time. Don’t get me wrong,” she assured as he gave her a rather reprimanding look, “I’m not a bad person. Essentially I am Hermione. I wasn’t lying before either, it was just easier for me to find out more about Hermione if I acted that way.”

She paused as though trying to figure out the best way to explain a math problem to a child who just couldn’t seem to get it. “The Angelus all have a counterpart in their abilities. With time and practice we will become one. It won’t be easy, but once Hermione masters her power, we will be one in the same. She won’t necessarily change, we’ll just become a whole. Get it?”

“Yeah, I think I understand. But, can this process be sped up?” He thought about the auror training, which would surely involve her developing her powers.

“I promise to be a willing participant in the fusing if you do me another favor.” She sounded sincere this time.

“What?” He was curious about what she could want now, and still a little unsure at what she’d told him.

“Stay near Hermione. I reside in her soul. It’s no picnic in there. When she is grieving, my world is a hell. However, things are calmer when you’re near her. If you make my time easier, I will willingly aid her and guide her along.”

Not sure what she meant, he agreed. Now he had even more of an excuse to be with her, her Angelus power’s wanted it. And if the kitten and Hermione were the same, as the kitten had said, then Hermione really wanted it also. Oh, the confusion. None of it made sense, and yet it all fit in his mind.

“Do you like her?” she asked, sounding a bit petty.

“I suppose that’s what I’m feeling.” Thinking he liked her and actually saying it, especially to someone who looked so identical, were two totally different things.

“More than me?” she pouted.

“What is more than, when you say you’re the same?” he asked quizzically, totally avoiding her question.

“Humph, I see why she becomes so easily annoyed with you,” she stated, crossing her arms.

The sun’s rays were now noticeable, peeking over the horizon, illuminating a small section of the sky.

“Alas, she stirs,” was all she said, before hugging Draco and going still.

When it rained, it poured. Nothing could ever be easy for him. The first girl he felt attracted to in a long time was Granger. He would stay by her, but how close was too close? Where would the head strong Gryffindor draw the line? He could only await her reaction nervously.

Maybe, if he didn’t give her time to think matters over, then she wouldn’t be able to come to her logical conclusion that they could never be anything more than civil partners.

Part of him was resentful that he would even have to resort to any measures just to get her take him into consideration. After all, he was Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, every young witch’s fantasy. Why did he have to go to such lengths for this?

‘Because, she’s the princess of Gryffindor and one third of the golden trio,’ he answered himself.

Had Draco stopped to think even more, he would have realized they were suited for each other more than anyone noticed. They were both the top two students of their grade, both Head Boy and Girl, and both deemed worthy of being aurors. And, history aside, they would have made a rather fitting pair. The only tiny stipulation was they had been mortal enemies for the past six years.

They would have to talk. It was inevitable, but he couldn’t help but feel that procrastination would swing her feelings in his favor.

“Granger,” he called, in a tone that betrayed nothing of his feelings or recent events. Her eyes squeezed shut before fluttering open. “There’s no rest for the wicked. Moody will be waiting. Let’s go.”

Slowly, she seemed to come to. Not even registering anything peculiar about waking up beside Malfoy while in his bedroom, on the same bed. In fact, she simply rolled over, and clambered out of bed, scratching her head and rubbing her face. Oddly, her body didn’t feel like it had just woken up.

Taking a deep breath, she chose to ignore the facts before her and the events of last night. There was no quick answer. The simple truth was they could never see each other. She may have found him tantalizing and mouthwatering hot, but a simple attraction was not enough to put everything on the line.

She wanted to linger in the ‘what-if’ stage they were at. Right now, it was not a settled issue.

Would they close the matter and agree to never mention it again or would they actually go for it? Her brain knew they would not be trying anything, as it was Malfoy, and she did not string his name along in the same sentence as boyfriend. Her heart knew that her grief seemed less when he held her and her body felt a pull that made her senseless.

The conflict was too great to contemplate at the moment, so she followed his lead and acted as though nothing was different. “If he’s waiting at this hour, then he is truly one peg legged bastard who takes training far too seriously,” she mumbled, searching for her wand, which ended up being in the kitchen.

There would be no use in getting ready or changing clothes, as they would be sweaty and dirty within the first hour. Moody was indeed down at the pitch, waiting impatiently for the two. “Ten laps!” he barked.

Immediately, Draco began to trot and then run along the perimeter. Hermione, groaning, got the idea and followed. It was then that she felt stiffness in her joints and soreness in her muscles, no doubt from the previous day. Much like before, Draco’s lead lengthened and her ability to keep moving lessened. Merlin help her, for the day when she would be in better shape could not come fast enough.

By the end of her tenth lap, Hermione seemed to have reached a solid resolve for her day of training. Gasping for breath, she continued jogging even over to the middle to the field to meet Moody and Malfoy. Dobby was once again waiting with bottled water, bless his little heart.

The morning went by in a blur of shielding charms and disarming spells, as she was shown proper stances and movements that would help lessen holes and gaps in her defense and strengthen her chances of a successful attack.

Moody had growled over and over that half of what made the shield strong was her will and resolve behind it, not just her concentration.

He lectured her on how she needed to be able to multi task everything. Her concentration had to be able to apply to different areas all at once. If she were thinking about the defensive charm she also had to be simultaneously thinking about an offensive one, otherwise her attack would not be quick enough. But, in thinking about her next attack, she couldn’t waver in thinking about her defense and let the opponent get passed her.

After Draco and Moody had broken her shield, sending her flying back with a bruising thud several times, Moody tried to change his explanation.

“Granger!” he shouted over to her after one particularly harsh landing. Her charms were nothing more than what the students had been able to learn in class. Real life was not so kind. The higher the stakes, the greater the power involved. And they were dealing in life and death, it didn’t get much more extreme than that.

“What?” she wheezed out, no wind left in her. Slowly, she climbed to her own feet, unsteady for a moment.

“Why do you have so much fear?” he asked, walking over towards her. “When you’re attacking and defending, all I see is fear reflected within your movements. Where is your resolve?”

“Sir?” Hermione asked. ‘What is he on about?’ she wondered. ‘I’ve just spent the last hour getting my arse kicked and he says I have no resolve?’

“Each time you defend yourself, I see fear,” he said most severely, “Granger, it’s never ‘I’m afraid of being hit.’ or ‘I’m afraid to hit the other person.’ It must always be, ‘I won’t get hit.’ and ‘I will hit my opponent.’” He waited for some sort of understanding from her.

Inhaling deeply, Hermione closed her eyes and thought about Moody’s words. She could do this. It was far more difficult than anything she’d ever tried in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which was apparently child’s play according to Moody. He was right. After the first time she’d been hit and thrown backwards, she’d been afraid to have it happen again. Getting up and trying over and over didn’t mean she had resolve, it just meant she was determined and stubborn.

Standing firmly, Hermione crouched low, wand at the ready. She closed her eyes for a moment, searching her mind. Opening her eyes, the world seemed slightly different. Her senses seemed heightened.

A slight nod on her end indicated she was ready for another go. Instantly, a flash of dark blue light was sent her way. “Defendo!” she cried. A red shield sprang forth, knocking Draco’s spell wayward.

“Better!” Moody called, “Keep going!”

Again, another burst of light, slightly further to the right this time. She deflected it with a bit more confidence this time, again having the same result. It was a couple more times of playing defense before she made her move and sent her own spell at him. While it was easily stopped, it wasn’t rebounded back at her as her other’s had been. Draco had obviously been less able to control it, showing that it had more punch behind it.

“Pincer!” Moody bellowed.

Out of nowhere, Draco seemed to have moved in direct line behind her while Moody was in front. There had been no sounds of apparition, and yet they had moved inhumanly fast.

The next thing she knew there was a red streak to her left and a yellow to her right. They had ganged up on her, leaving her little time to react. But, react she did. Something inside of her held her in place a split second longer than she would have stayed, but promptly after, she dove forward, somersaulting onto the grass.

She gained her footing again as quickly as possible. Without knowing why, she sent a shield up on her right side, and then an ‘Expelliarmus’ to her left. She heard Moody grunt off in the direction of her last spell, so without hesitation she called, “Accio Moody’s wand!” Sure enough, his wand flew to her. But, in the time she’d wrapped her hand around it, Draco had his own wand pressed to her throat.

“That, Granger, is what we call a sacrifice for the greater goal.” Draco lowered his wand and ruffled her hair. “Isn’t that right old man?”

Hermione was breathless, slightly confused, and totally in awe of Draco’s undetectable movements. She was a little unnerved when she noticed how her head felt warm where he had mussed her hair.

“Yeah,” Moody growled, yanking his wand back from Hermione. “Except, you were supposed to be the sacrifice, little boy.”

Hermione was still slightly dazed, riding the adrenaline rush she had gotten from the whole experience. The world came back into focus however as she heard Malfoy laughing at Moody’s words.

“Tell her that, not me,” he defended himself. Giving her a wry smile, he watched as Hermione seemed to blush. Sighing, he wondered how much longer they could put off talking.

“Better?” Hermione asked.

Moody took a moment. “Yes, but far from good.”

“Please old man, it took me a week to get that far and you told me I was a natural,” Draco put in.

Moody snorted, “Would you have accepted anything less?”

Draco clutched his heart, then placing his sneer back on, said, “I think you’re just upset she got the better of you.”

Hermione felt drawn in to the almost jovial exchanging of retorts. “I’ll have both your wands in my hand by the weeks end.”

“Don’t flatter yourself just yet Granger,” Malfoy sneered, seemingly more willing to speak highly of her to Moody than her own face. “He’s getting senile and I’m still a newbie. Even if you managed it, it wouldn’t be something to brag about.”

A fire seemed to dance in her eyes, she loved a good challenge. “I’ll bring you to you knees Malfoy, wait and see.”

Draco flushed. How could she put words out there like that and not flinch at the blatant innuendo in them. Merlin, help him if he wasn’t attracted to the most naïve girl in the entire wizarding world.

Moody clapped him on the shoulder. “Lunch break,” he sniggered, almost feeling sorry for the lad.

“We’ll see,” was all the blonde could answer her with, not trusting his voice at the moment.

The three of them walked back to the castle. Once they reached the steps Hermione asked, “How do you move so fast?”

Moody’s eye swiveled over to her. “That’s a lesson a bit farther down the road.”


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