Why Do You Love Me?

A/N: You may see my trying to wheedle a bit of problem number two in here, as the chapter continues. Harry, of course, probably won’t outright cut himself, at least for another few chapters, so you can all relax for now.

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Hermione stared at Harry curiously from across the room. He didn’t know, but lately, Hermione had been keeping a close eye on him. He’d been acting rather suspicious lately, sneaking off at every free moment he could manage, and being tired during the day. She could often find him reading odd books about spontaneous combustion spells, which was rather curious.

With a glance around him, Harry grinned and closed the old-looking book he had been reading. Stuffing it into his knapsack, he shouldered the bag and left the room.

Hermione’s eyes trailed after him, and when she was sure he was gone, she stood up, a look of conviction set on her face. If he wasn’t going to tell her what was going on, she was going to find out for herself.

Draco had assured her that Harry had stopped his self-destructive behavior, but Hermione had to see for herself before she would believe it. With a frown and a look around her to make sure no one was watching, Hermione made her way up the staircase to the boys’ dormitory.

Another glance around, and she began digging around in Harry’s trunk. It wasn’t long before she found what she was looking for, and after a whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” and a tap of her wand, she found Harry’s dot wandering the corridors just outside of the Gryffindor common room.

Standing quickly, Hermione left the boys’ dormitories before any of the boys came up and found her snooping through Harry’s stuff. She didn’t bother to right the harm she had done - the room was such a mess already, she doubted that anyone would notice the small amount of damage she had caused.

Everyone in the commons stared in surprise as Hermione rushed through the room, leaving her homework neatly laid out on the abandoned table as she hurried out the portrait hole.

Ginny Weasley entered the room at the precise moment Hermione rushed out, and the two nearly collided. “What’s up, Hermione?” Ginny asked, surprised at the determined look in her eyes.

“No time, Ginny. We’ll talk later, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Hermione rushed off, Ginny watching after her curiously.

Hermione followed Harry slowly, making sure to stay at least a corridor away from him, in case he decided to look back and see if he was being followed. She watched as his back disappeared around a corner, his robes sweeping out of sight quickly behind him. Deciding to stay where she was for at least a bit longer, to give him time to walk further away, Hermione watched his figure pace on the map. Seconds later, he made a sharp right, and disappeared from the map completely.

Hermione sighed. The Room of Requirement. This was going to be harder than she had thought. One could only imagine the horrors shooting through her mind at top speed as she thought of what Harry could possibly be doing in there.

…
…
…

“I’ve found it,” Harry exclaimed proudly as he plopped himself into a seat directly in front of the fireplace. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the book, and held it up triumphantly.

Lady Elizabeth raised her eyebrows curiously, shielding a yawn from with her hand. “Found what?” she asked, rubbing at her eyes sleepily. Harry had been rather active for the past two weeks, researching combustion charms with furry, and her ferocious following of him was becoming rather tiring.

“The spell!” he cried out, looking at her with eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Oh,” she murmured, eyebrows furrowed. Harry’s face seemed to fall, and Lady Elizabeth grinned, albeit a bit forcedly. “Of course! The spell! Well, go on!”

Harry grinned once more, and heaved the book onto a coffee table that had materialized in front of him.

“Well, according to this entire chapter, it is rather difficult to cause portraits to spontaneously combust, and considering how long you’ve been around, it may be a bit more difficult than most. You see, the longer a portrait’s been around, the more say it has when it comes to things like this. I mean, as you mature, you get to know more things, and it could be said that it’s nearly like you’re really alive.”

Lady Elizabeth smiled softly at the flush that was finding its way to his face. “What a wonderful way to become immortalized.” she murmured.

Harry smiled at the slight crack, then ran his index finger down the page, searching for the spell.

“Yes, right. Well, I’ve got to perform this spell…er…Copius Morticus, I think…Anyway, at the end of the incantation, you’ve got to give a spoken agreement, otherwise it won’t work.

“The great thing about this spell is that you won’t just burst into flame at any old time. Some special term will be stamped across your forehead, and the next time I see you, I’ll know you told. Then, I’ll get the option to set you aflame, or just leave you the way you are.” Harry grinned jestingly at Lady Elizabeth, and she blinked in surprise. Harry was feeling rather playful tonight, that was for certain.

“Oh?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Harry grinned smugly to himself.

“What’s the spoken agreement, then?” Lady Elizabeth asked, standing and shaking her limbs to wake herself up.

Harry smiled and looked down at the book once more. Reading directly from the pages, he said, “I, (Your Name Here), solemnly agree that this curse has been brought upon me by my own will. I will keep any and all promises pledged to (My Name Here), as follows: (Promises Here).”

Harry shut the book and grinned up expectantly at Lady Elizabeth. “It has to be your full name, as does mine,” he said, eyebrows wriggling playfully.

Lady Elizabeth laughed a beautifully high-pitched, fluttery laugh.

“It’s cheesy, I know, but you’ve got to say it,” Harry’s face fell for a moment. “You are going to say it, aren’t you?”

Lady Elizabeth looked him over, worry creeping into her chest, causing her non-existent heart to contract. “Of course I am, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?”

Relief flooded Harry’s features, and he sighed softly, closing his eyes.

“I don’t know. I was just so worried that you wouldn’t.”

Lady Elizabeth smiled grimly. “Well, go on, then,” she said with a forced smile.

Harry lifted his wand, pointed it at Lady Elizabeth, and muttered the enchantment.

A soft, buttery yellow light flooded the room, and both of their attentions were sucked into what was currently going on. Neither noticed the door slowly creaking open, or the girl who rushed into the room, fearing the worst at the light.

“Hurry, say it!” Harry said in a near whisper, in complete awe at what was occurring.

Lady Elizabeth grinned and took a deep breath. “I, Lady Elizabeth Ellen Malfoy, do solemnly agree that this curse has been brought upon me by my own will.

Harry stared, wide-eyed, at Lady Elizabeth. “You never told-”

Lady Elizabeth quickly interrupted, before the spell could be ruined. “I will keep any and all promises pledged to Harry James Potter, as follows: I will never tell a soul, living or dead, anything that he confides in me.”

The bright, supple light took on a soft golden hue that flashed everywhere, nearly blinding Harry, before it dwindled into a single pinprick of light, and separated into two points, one making its way toward Harry, and the other toward Lady Elizabeth’s portrait.

The point directed towards Harry slammed directly into his chest, causing shivers to make their way down his back.

It seemed that the pinprick of light that had been directed towards Lady Elizabeth had a similar effect. Lady Elizabeth shuddered, and her portrait glowed with a faint yellow light for a few minutes before it faded away.

Hermione stared in surprise as the light faded away. “Harry, what have you done?” she whispered to herself. She had only heard a bit of the conversation, but it had been enough to know that it couldn’t be good.

A quick glance around the room told Hermione that there was a fire blazing in the grate of the fireplace, and that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be seen if she stopped in for a quick peek.

Casting a quick silencing spell so that Harry wouldn’t hear the door creak shut, Hermione left the room hastily and set off towards Gryffindor Tower. She rushed into the commons, startling everyone within for the second time that day, when she snapped, “I’m visiting my parents. No disruptions!” and immediately tossed herself to her knees and threw some floo powder into the fireplace.

First years hurriedly gathered their things and took off at a sprint towards their dorms, second years cowered in dark corners, and third and fourth years looked on curiously as Hermione stuck her head within the flames and whispered her destination. Someone had pissed Hermione Granger right off, and this surely would not bode well for any of them if they were caught in the crossfire.


Head flooing was sort of like an out of body experience for Hermione. Her head twisted around and around, though her knees stayed grounded and the rest of her body stable. When her head finally came to rest within the roaring flames of the fire in the Room of Requirement, Harry was sitting in the chair across from the fire.

Hermione’s eyes widened when she realized that her plan probably hadn’t been the best that she had ever come up with, mostly because it hadn‘t been properly thought through, in all aspects, and she pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes to tap herself on the head and wordlessly cast a disillusionment charm.

Harry didn’t notice, as he was currently pouting, with his arms crossed and a sullen look towards the portrait he had been talking to earlier.

“You never told me you were a Malfoy,” he muttered. Hermione blinked in surprise.

“You never asked,” Lady Elizabeth stated, amusement evident in her voice.

“I never thought I had reason to,” Harry muttered, and continued to pout.

“Well, what reason would you have had?” Lady Elizabeth.

“To start with, Malfoy…er, Draco and I have been almost mortal enemies since…well, forever!”

Lady Elizabeth laughed. “Ah, Harry, suffice it to say that not all Malfoys are the same. I, for one, always supported the light side, whereas my parents and my sisters followed that of the dark side. My dear brother, Adrian, also followed the side of the light. That is why we lived for so long. It would be sufficient to say that, because of the rest of my family’s stupidity, they died a very…gruesome death.” Lady Elizabeth grimaced, and Harry sighed.

“That’s not the point. I would have liked to have known, is all.” He mumbled stubbornly, though his cheeks flushed a very becoming pink afterwards.

Lady Elizabeth sighed, and sat on a nearly invisible stool that was nearly hidden by the confines of her extravagant dress. “Would you have trusted me, Harry?” she asked, a sad look crossing her features as Harry slowly shook his head.

“I know that it’s different now that you know that I’m a Malfoy, but you can still trust me. I just took an oath of silence that would not be worth breaking!” Harry grinned a bit at that, and Lady Elizabeth continued, heartened by his arms lowering from their protective position across his chest, and his lower lip sucking itself in.

“I assure you, I have my best interests - and yours - in mind when I ask you to tell me, Harry, what’s been bothering you.”

“I don’t need any advice,” Harry said quickly, before Lady Elizabeth could continue. “I just want someone I can confide in, you know? It gets hard, having to lug these feelings around with me all the time. I can hardly save myself, let alone the whole Wizarding world, and I don’t know if I want to try anymore.”

Harry lowered his eyes from those of Lady Elizabeth’s, her gaze becoming too much to bear. He felt ashamed that he felt that way, but he couldn’t control it, not really.

Lifting his already ragged thumbnail to his lips, he began to gnaw on the short stub.

Lady Elizabeth sized him up for a good, long time, and Harry began to feel a bit self conscious and nervous under her great scrutiny.

“Harry,” she began after a long, awkward silence. “Life is precious. You can’t give up just because it becomes too hard. I know of the burdening weight that has been put upon your shoulders and yours alone, but you must know that you are not the only one who’s scared.”

Harry interrupted her, his voice muffled around his thumb, which he was vigorously gnawing on, in an attempt to concentrate. “No, of course I’m not! But I’m basically a human sacrifice! They all know that I can’t save them! I’m a nervous wreck, and they’ve made me this way! I can’t do it alone, not anymore!”

Hermione stared in shocked awe as Harry stood and tore the thumb away from his lips, leaving a slight trail of blood in its wake.

Lady Elizabeth frowned grimly. “Then don’t, Harry.” she interrupted. “How can you not see how they are trying to help you? They’re nearly desperate with worry - don’t you see it? Look into their eyes, it’s there! They want to help you, but you push them away. How can you expect them to break down your walls if you just build them up again?”

Harry sighed, and, defeated, sat back down, immediately going back to chewing on his thumbnail, which was quickly becoming nearly non-existent and bloodied.

Hermione took one last look at what was going on, and pulled her head from the fire. Harry needed help. She was sure of it now. And a portrait couldn’t do nearly as much as an adult experienced in that kind of work could.

Her features took on a grim, set look as she stood and brushed herself off. Glancing around the room, she sent glares at everyone who even so much as dared to look at her.

Sitting down at the table in front of her long forgotten homework, Hermione began to plot.