Why Do You Love Me?

A/N: Although this fic is longer than FAAR, it’s also about 1552 words shorter. I’m hoping to rectify that in this chapter. (Author crosses fingers)

Keep the reviews coming, though! I love your opinions, and they really help me figure out how the following chapters should turn out!

Chapter Twenty-One
Purging

Later that night, when Hermione was sure everyone was asleep, she snuck down to the Gryffindor common room and began a fire. Tossing some floo powder into the roaring fireplace, she stepped in and whispered her destination. Covering her face with her arm, Hermione shielded herself from smoke that curled its way up her nostrils, nearly causing her to choke as she began to spin around, green flames shooting everywhere and sparks flying.

When she finally stopped spinning, she opened her eyes and lowered her arm. A very surprised Draco Malfoy, sandwich poised halfway to his mouth, gaped at her as she stepped out of the fireplace and brushed soot from her clothes.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here, Granger?” Draco asked, standing. The sandwich fell to the dirty-looking table, forgotten.

“We’ve got to talk,” Hermione said, her eyes glistening desperately.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed as he gave Hermione a long look.

“About what, pray tell?”

Hermione smiled wanly and tossed herself into a chair.

“Sit down,” she said, gesturing towards Draco’s newly vacated seat.

Draco leered. “As if you can tell me what to do in my own home,” he grumbled to himself with a glare, although he took her up on her offer.

With a flick of his wand, a tea pot and cup with saucer appeared in front of Hermione, the teapot pouring itself, and sugar spooning itself into the porcelain cup and tinkling as it stirred. Hermione watched this half-interestedly, then looked up at Draco, taking up the tea and sipping it gingerly.

“Well?” Draco asked lingeringly, and Hermione sighed.

“Who is Lady Elizabeth, Draco?” she asked. Draco looked at her in shock.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked suspiciously.

Hermione’s face twisted into a pained look, eyes glistening with oncoming tears. “Just tell me,” she ground out, though it sounded more like a pained cry.

“Okay…” Draco trailed off in thought. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember any mention of her from his mother or father. “Well, father never seemed to keen to talk about her. He says she was a blood traitor. She lived quite a while ago. I only found out about her in the Malfoy’s history books, because everyone in my family is rather tight-lipped, especially where blood traitors are concerned. My father may be on the side of the light, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t understand the Dark Lord’s cause…”

Hermione watched Draco intently, sipping on her tea as she lapped up the information he was providing for her eagerly.

“And?” she prodded, waiting for Draco to continue.

“Well, she’s been taken off the Malfoy tapestry, much like Sirius was taken off of the Black tapestry. That was long, long ago, though. I doubt many people remember it. The tapestry isn’t really where others can lay their eyes upon it. She had a portrait painted, I believe. She was a great teacher at Hogwarts at one time, after all. Head of Ravenclaw house, I believe. It has since disappeared, it seems,” Draco said, his left index finger rubbing his bottom lip thoughtfully.

Hermione smiled. “Not quite.”

Draco looked up, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Hermione debated with herself about whether to tell Draco the whole story. Eventually, she decided that she could. It wasn’t as if Draco had anyone he could tell.

“Harry has been sneaking off rather frequently lately. I got curious. I wanted to know if he was safe, we couldn’t have him off somewhere dying on us, surely. So I followed him one day with Marauder’s Map.” Draco’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at that.

“Marauder’s Map?” he asked, instantly curious.

Hermione smiled grimly and pulled multiple, old looking pieces of parchment out of the folds of her robes. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” she said, tapping the parchment with her wand.

Draco was surprised to see words scripting themselves over the parchment. Hermione didn’t seem nearly as amazed, and quickly flipped it open, scanning the parchment quickly for something.

“He’s there right now,” she stated, handing Draco the map. “See how you can see everyone’s dots? They’re labeled with names,” she pointed out unnecessarily.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “There’s no ‘Harry’ dot,” he said after scanning the map curiously.

“Precisely. He’s in the Room of Requirements, which just so happens to not show up on this map.”

Draco’s eyes rose to meet Hermione’s over the grungy table and disposed of sandwich. “So that means…” he trailed off, but Hermione was nodding in agreement, and Draco sighed.

“Have you seen…?”

Hermione’s lips tugged up slightly. “He made her take an oath,” she said, whispering, though she didn’t quite know why. It just felt…right to whisper. “She can’t say anything about what he says to her to a soul, ‘living or dead’,” Hermione recited, and Draco sank down in his seat, head pounding onto the table with an echoing thunk.

Hermione’s lips pulled into a wide grin as she looked at Draco. “But,” she began, and Draco’s head popped up to watch her with wide grey eyes. “That doesn’t mean she can’t tell other portraits.”

Draco sat up straight, lips quirked and eyes twinkling. “Brilliant!” he cried, leaning over the table to hug Hermione tightly.

Hermione, crushed and quickly losing her breath, patted Draco’s back awkwardly.

A throat cleared in the doorway, causing Hermione and Draco to jump apart.

“No Weasley accompanying you tonight, Miss Granger?” said Severus Snape’s oily, smirking voice. “Nor the Potter boy? How very odd. Sneaking off school grounds in the middle of the night, alone? One can only imagine…” Snape trailed off, slinking towards the cupboards and pulling out something. His body blocked whatever it was from Hermione’s sight, and Hermione strained her neck to see what it was, to no avail.

Draco and Hermione’s eyes met while Snape’s back was turned to them, and Hermione sighed, quickly tapping the map with her wand and muttering under her breath, “Mischief managed,”. Then, she yanked the map away from a disappointed-looking Draco, and stuffed deep within the folds of her robes.

“Well,” Hermione stated after a long, awkward silence, in which Draco had spotted the now filthy-looking sandwich, and magicked it away in disgust. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got somewhere I’ve got to be,”

Draco smirked at her, and Snape turned around and looked at her in surprise. Hermione smiled. “Can I apparate from here?” she asked.

Snape’s mouth dropped open, and he shook his head, turning back towards whatever he had been doing.

Hermione could hear him muttering something along the lines of, “Infernally maddening Gryffindors, I’ll loose my mind before the year is out…” as he worked, and her grin grew.

Draco chuckled softly, and led Hermione towards the door. “No, there are wards. You’ll have to apparate from the walk. Try not to make a racket,”

Hermione nodded, and began to walk away.

“Oh, wait!” Draco stopped her, and she swept around quickly. “Here, I nearly forgot. Flooing would be much easier, you know,” he stated as he drew his wand. “But you don’t want to be seen. Here,” with a wave of his wand and a tap on her head, Hermione felt a sharp chill run down her spine.

“When you get to your dormitory, a simple ‘Finite Incantatem’ should suffice to take it down. Owl me about Harry’s progress, okay?”

Hermione smiled, her eyes softening, and she nodded. Draco turned and was nearly back into the house before Hermione stopped him with a hand on his arm. Draco turned back, and Hermione grinned at him. “Thank you, Draco. For everything,”

And she threw herself at him.

Her hug was crushing, and Draco could have sworn he was dying, because this couldn’t be real, surely Hermione Granger was not squeezing the life out of him, and surely this couldn’t be the way he was going to die, not after all he’d done. Surely?

It was over quickly, Hermione pulling away and flushing slightly. Holding her own wand up in a sort of salute, she smiled warmly at Draco. “He’s doing fine right now, Draco. Try not to worry, yeah?”

Draco nodded, jaw slack and eyes wide, as Hermione departed.

…
…
…

When Hermione finally arrived back in the Gryffindor common room, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, and Harry had yet to return to the tower. Now that he had someone to confide in, Hermione doubted that Harry would be worse off than he had been. As a matter of fact, she was hoping that he would be better than ever, soon. But, there was one tiny problem. If Harry were going to be back to normal, he would need sleep. And wandering off at all hours of the night to see some portrait was not allowing him the rest that he needed…and NEWTs were coming up quickly! They had already been in school for nearly two months!

Hermione didn’t get much sleep that night as she tossed and turned in her bed, worried sick about Harry.

…
…
…

Harry was uncharacteristically talkative that morning. He talked especially about NEWTs, and how he just knew, without a doubt, that he was going to get an ‘N’ in Defence. “Wandless magic,” he announced, mouth stuffed chop full with everything and anything he could find within reach. “Is a snap. I can do it in my sleep,”

Seamus and Neville shared a look that said otherwise, but they didn’t dare say anything that might make Harry’s good mood go away.

Hermione forced a confused smile, and was silent throughout breakfast. On their way to potions, Harry nudged her in the side. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” he asked with a grin, taking a bite out of an apple he’d taken with him.

Hermione smiled. “Oh, nothing. I’m just tired.”

Harry blinked, chewing thoughtfully on the apple. “Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey,” he suggested.

Hermione frowned. “No, I’m all right. I just stayed up a bit late, studying.”

Harry scoffed. “For what?” he exclaimed, sounding horror struck. He, apparently, didn’t understand the importance of studying. …Either that, or he had had enough studying to last him a lifetime. “NEWTs aren’t for a while, yet, and we don’t have any exams in any other classes…do we?” A tone of anxiety found its way into Harry’s voice, and he looked at Hermione, worried and wide-eyed.

Hermione frowned slightly. “Well, I’ve got an exam in Arithmancy in a couple of days.” she said thoughtfully.

Harry munched on his apple in silence for a while as they waited outside of the classroom for Madam Pomfrey, who was running rather late today. She was probably tied up in the Hospital Wing.

“You should relax, ‘Mione,” he said after a while, mouth full. “You’ll never last until NEWTs if you don’t, you know.”

Hermione sighed, but didn’t say anything.

Silence reigned once more, and Neville met up with them, grin firmly in place. “’Lo, Harry, ‘Mione.” he greeted, still grinning from ear to ear.

“What’re you so happy about, Neville?” Harry asked.

Neville flushed, and rubbed the back of his neck, quickly thinking up an excuse. “Well, we haven’t got Snape anymore, right? Isn’t that enough to be happy about?” He asked, hoping it had been a good enough cover.

Harry nodded, twisting the apple core in his hands and watching the juices run down to drip on the floor. “I guess…I mean, definitely! Did you see how well my potion was last time? I fouled up so badly in fifth year, it hurts to remember…”

Neville smiled and nodded eagerly in agreement.

Just then, a throat cleared behind them, and they turned around to find Madam Pomfrey standing in front of them, hands on hips. “What are you loitering about for?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.

Harry and Neville flushed, and Hermione rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, Professor.” she said, sheepishly turning around and going into the classroom.

Neville and Harry shared a look, and Madam Pomfrey glared at them, tapping her toe on the ground expectantly. “Well?” she demanded. “Get in the classroom, or I shall mark you absent.”

Harry and Neville flushed once more, and they shuffled in. The door slammed behind them, and Madam Pomfrey stalked up to the front of the room, an exasperated look on her face.

…
…
…

Draco Malfoy found it very interesting to watch Dumbledore and Severus fighting. They fought over everything now, and Draco suspected it was because they were in such cramped quarters. He was tired of Molly Weasley’s food, tired of cleaning up the house and attempting to refurbish it. Draco was just plain tired.

Suspiciously enough, neither he nor Severus had been called to a Death Eater conference since that last time when Harry had been in St. Mungo’s. Although it was heartening to know that Voldemort probably didn’t suspect a thing, and that he trusted them enough to leave them alone for such a long amount of time, Draco felt that if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to burst.

Something along the lines of what had happened the evening before, preferably. Now, that had been unexpected and exhilarating.

Draco smiled at the knowledge that Harry was okay, and seemed to be better off than he had been the last time Draco had gone to Hogwarts. But it upset him slightly to know that Harry didn’t need him nearly as much as Draco wanted…or maybe even needed…him to need him.

Draco desperately needed to feel needed…

Severus interrupted Draco’s musings by storming past him, muttering under his breath about “batty ex-headmasters”.

Draco smiled softly to himself, then turned his gaze towards the ‘batty ex-headmaster’ in question. Currently, he was staring after Severus, a confused look plastered on his face, and an odd, long, flesh-colored piece of string-looking…thing…dangling from his aged hand.

“It’s not a bad idea, Severus,” Dumbledore called after him, looking down at the flesh-colored object and back up again. “If you could only pull it off-”

“It would get us killed, you coot!” It seemed that Severus had finally reached his breaking point.

Draco gazed on, wide-eyed in interest, as the two duked it out.

“If we only cast an invisibility charm on it, or perhaps-”

“No! I am not taking one of those Weasley twins’ odd contraptions for gaggery and pranks along with me to a Death Eater meeting! This is a serious matter, Albus!”

“I know that, Severus. If you took this with you, I could listen as well! Don’t you see the brilliance of the plan?”

Severus gave Dumbledore a seething glare. “No!” he proclaimed, and stomped out of the room, rather resembling a young child who wouldn’t know discipline if it came up and bit him on the arse. Draco smirked at that thought, and turned back towards Dumbledore.

He really didn’t feel as though he should have a say in the matter, but just then, Dumbledore glanced over at him.

“You wouldn’t oppose if these, say…accidentally…” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brighter than normal, and Draco shuddered. “Found their way along with the two of you next time, would you?”

“Erm, well you see, I’m not sure if I should be involved in this, Profess-er, Dumbledore, sir,” Draco stuttered out, flushing a slight pink tinge as Dumbledore stared at him, crystal clear blue eyes glistening in mirth and lips curled up slightly, lifting his whole face.

Running a hand absently through his beard, Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he said thoughtfully. “Very well, then. You shan’t be involved.”

Draco could swear he saw Dumbledore grin widely as he turned around and left the room, leaving Draco alone once again to his pondering.

…
…
…

Back in Gryffindor tower (in the boys’ private bath, connected to their dorms, to be exact), Harry was once more purging himself of a rather quickly consumed meal. His stomach muscles contracted painfully as he finished. It felt rather odd to be full to the brink one second, and completely empty the next.

Harry would never admit it to anyone else, but he rather liked the feeling. It felt that, somehow, he was in control, something that he had never been, even once in his life. Harry swiped roughly at his mouth with the back of his arm, and stood quickly, flushing the toilet.

A quick flick of his wand had his mouth cleansed properly, and a second flick had his flushed cheeks taking on a normal looking tint rather quickly. Harry smiled winningly at his reflection, and the mirror “tisked” in return, but remained silent.

The smile faded from his face at the disapproving sound from the mirror, and he sent a glare its way, before quickly retreating from the room.

Ron was in the commons, setting up for a game of chess, and Harry decided that he looked rather lonely. If Harry really thought about it, he hadn’t been spending much time with his friends after he had found Lady Elizabeth.

Sitting down in front of the chessboard, he grinned widely at Ron, who looked at him curiously, but smiled nonetheless. Three games commenced, all of which Ron won spectacularly, but Harry really hadn’t expected anything less, of course. When it was finally time to go to class, both left with smiles on their faces.

…
…
…

Hermione continued to keep a close eye on Harry for the remainder of the week. He seemed less tired by the end of it, and his grades seemed to be improving (Hermione only knew that small fact because at least two of Harry’s teachers had personally pulled him aside and commented on it). Harry finally seemed to be going back to normal.

Until one day, he collapsed.

…
…
…

D,

Harry has been sent immediately to the infirmary. No one knows what’s wrong with him, and if they do, they don’t seem keen to be sharing any answers with me. He collapsed tonight at dinner. He seemed fine, from what I could tell. He was stuffing his face, just like normal, with maybe even more vigor than Ronald ever has. I think he’s finally gotten his appetite back.

I’ve asked Madam Pomfrey what’s wrong with him, but she just bustles me out of the room and says I’ll find out soon enough. I don’t know if soon enough would be nearly soon enough.

I’ve tried to pry it out of Lady Elizabeth, but she can’t say for sure. She has suspicions, but she can’t relate them to me - they may cause her to spontaneously combust. That’s all she’ll say.

We need to bring our plan into action, and fast. Harry’s life just may be on the line, and he’s shut out everyone except for her.

Owl me back quickly, so that we can arrange to meet up and commence with our plan.

Hermione

Draco stared at the letter, dumbfounded. Harry had collapsed? How? Why? Questions flew desperately through his head, but remained answerless. Yes, he and Hermione would indeed have to commence with their plan if they wanted to find out what was wrong with Harry…

…
…
…

Harry had been in the Infirmary for at least a week now. Lady Elizabeth visited him regularly (in the evening hours, of course, when no one else’s company was allowed), and it seemed to Harry that she was the only one who didn’t demean him.

She nodded understandingly as he poured his heart out to her, and she offered advice in return, but she never pushed, and if Harry objected or opposed to her opinion, she discussed the reasons why, instead of turning him towards what she thought was the right direction.

During the days, when Lady Elizabeth had other errands to run, Harry was basically left alone. His friends had leaned long ago that he wouldn’t speak to them, and they had given up on trying. Now, the only people that remained worried about him seemed to be Hermione, Ron, and Alicia.

Alicia visited him at random intervals, at least three times a day. She told him it was because she didn’t want him to get rusty with his wandless magic - “You’ve already gotten so far!” she’d declared, eyes wide.

Yes, he’d gotten quite far. Harry thought bitterly about the time he had barely been able to turn a quill into a pillow, even with every strain and effort. He just got the feeling that wandless wouldn’t be nearly as easy as he had imagined it would be, and he desperately wanted to stop trying it.

It gave him a headache every time he lifted his hand to ‘Accio’ anything towards himself, and his stomach roiled, whenever he tried to conjure anything.

Harry had his suspicions about Alicia. He knew she was up to something, putting him up to all those magical tests. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“Come on, Harry!” she’d exclaimed one day. “The rest of the class is already far beyond this! You’re going to fall behind if you don’t get this down pat within the next few days.”

Harry, frankly, couldn’t find the strength to care. And Madam Pomfrey seemed to oppose the attempt at weak magic on Harry’s part. He needed to heal and regain his powers, not be drained of them, after all.

On his second day of his second week in the hospital wing, Harry was released. His stay had been rather...uneventful... Harry sighed in relief as he quickly walked towards the Room of Requirements, and dashed inside. “Lady Elizabeth!” he cried out.

But Lady Elizabeth was gone.

And in her place, Draco Malfoy sat in Harry’s armchair, glaring at Harry openly.

“Feeling better, Potter?”