No Longer Helpless

Chapter Twenty-Five
The Kitten Come Out To Play

“Come along,” Draco stated evenly as he resumed his usual pace, which happened to be twice that of Hermione’s.

Easily falling into a near jog to keep up with him, she mumbled, “Thanks for that.”

After a minute of silence Draco replied, “I didn’t do it for you, we have a meeting.”

The response had been so delayed it took her a moment to register what he was replying to. His excuse was an obvious lie in her view, but if it made him feel better, then it was fine. “Oh,” she acknowledged, as if he hadn’t just been shouting at her friends on her behalf.

They were indeed on their way to meet with Dumbledore and Moody. She should have known better than to assume she could make such carefree plans with her friends, especially after getting back. Of course Moody would want to convene to moment she was able to report to him.

While Dumbledore’s office was the likely place for their discussion, they were headed towards the dungeons.

‘Odd,’ Hermione thought as she followed along.

Sensing her confusion, Draco spoke up, “Snape will be there. I believe the Headmaster had him brew something for this occasion.”

The dungeons of Hogwarts’ castle were very large and an intricate maze of damp halls and cold air. For the purpose of going to class the students remained on one of the upper levels of the dungeons. The Slytherin house entrance was further below, and still lower were darker corridors and rooms that no one explored anymore.

There was no reason to go so deep. The lighting was minimal and the air was foul and dense with smells that couldn’t be placed. Perhaps the smell was from the many potions brewed by the Potion’s Master or from activities of the past. The Marauder’s map showed nothing of interest, so on any Gryffindor’s part there would be no reason to venture forth into unknown areas.

If for some reason a curious student did decide to take a nightly stroll into the depths of Hogwarts’ underground, then they would surely not get very far, for their growing fear would turn them back.

Even Hermione could feel it, a tingle of forbidding. A feeling that if one were to inspect the nearest room, it would surely be riddled with used chains and shackles, perhaps with torturous instruments and ancient blood spatters.

A shiver ran down her spine at the images such thoughts conjured. In fact, her mind became so focused on recreating the events that would have taken place in more archaic times that she scarcely thought she heard a distant cry of agony.

‘This is why no one comes here, it’s bloody haunted,’ she thought taking a step closer to Draco.

Draco smirked at the slight fear he saw within Hermione. It was probably her first time ever being this far into the labyrinth of Snape’s playground. For his own part, he’d only been down here a handful of times and not for more than an hour at a time. The only bright spot he could find about the place was that if you didn’t want to run into anyone, Snape excluded, then this would be the place to hide out. It would take a lot to get a person to descend as far below as they now were.

Hermione again thought she heard something, chains rattling perhaps. “Malfoy, was that,”

“The Bloody Baron getting a rise out of the Gryffindor Princess? Yes,” he interrupted.

“Oh,” she said, blushing at her own foolishness. Of course it wasn’t really someone’s dead ghost, not some torture victim anyway. ‘Stupid Baron,’ she thought. It could have easily been Peeves too, though she wondered whether he’d even be found in the dungeons.

Upon entering the room, Hermione chose to forget any past dealings with the Potion’s Master in light of their Order business. Crossing the dreary, but well lit room, she sat down at a rectangular table. Dumbledore was at the head, with opposite Snape him, and Moody was to the other side closer to Dumbledore’s end. Hermione and Draco took the empty side, across from Moody. Draco sat nearer to Snape and Hermione to the Headmaster.

Snape sat sulking, black robes shrouding his features and arms crossed closely at the chest. His eyes glanced momentarily at Hermione before directing themselves to the floor.

“I would have you know, that under normal circumstances you two would report to me immediately,” Moody began, eyes still cast down, reading from the parchment before him.

After a moment, when they had both settled in more comfortably, he continued, “Following procedures, I’ll ask you a few questions regarding the assignment as a follow up. The report you have filed is quite sufficient for my own standards, which will be more than suitable for the Ministry.” He let the parchment drop to the table and folded his hands together, much as Dumbledore sometimes did.

Draco cast a glance Hermione’s way, wondering where their written documentation had come from. The sly witch hadn’t even mentioned anything to him about it. In fact it had completely slipped his mind, as most trivial paper work did.

Hermione cleared her throat meekly under Draco’s gaze. It hadn’t taken her more than fifteen minutes to write something up real quick. The night before, she was having trouble getting to sleep, so she had hoped it would kill time or make her even sleepier.

Somehow, relaying the facts on paper was actually a bore compared to the thrill of living the events. A small grin graced her face. It wasn’t often she was able to catch her fair-haired partner off guard.

Rolling his eyes at her obvious amusement with his slip up, Draco focused his attention on Moody, who was acting far too formal for his liking. “Lighten up old man, this is a meeting, not an interrogation. Don’t give us that look,” he snapped.

Scowling at his apprentice’s insubordination, Moody kept his reprimands to himself. Though, his posture did seem to soften slightly. “Well, now that you’re here, I want to ask firstly, if you need to see Madame Pomfrey? As I heard, you left before being discharged, which I can only take to mean you are better?”

“Uh, yes, we’re fine now,” Draco answered, ignoring the fact that even now his body felt stiff and sore. It was no doubt the same for Hermione.

“So happy to hear that,” Snape said snidely, arms still crossed, glaring at the two of them.

Sending his own glare right back at his favored Head of House, Draco resumed his attentions to Moody. Thus far Dumbledore hadn’t spoken, so he would assume the old Auror was conducting the meeting for the time being. “What more would you know that isn’t supplied in the report?” Draco questioned, safely assuming Hermione had given adequate details on everything.

Clearing his throat yet again, Mad-Eye cast a questioning look toward Albus. It was difficult to deal with the unknown. “I would know if you felt anything in particular that was out of place?”

Quirking one brow Draco and Hermione shared a similar glance at one another before turning back. “Define, out of place,” the blonde commented.

Chuckling, Albus finally joined the conversation, “My dear boy, I’m sure you are aware of the immense amount of magic released the other night between the two of you.” His blue eyes twinkled with something of excitement as he stared at the young Malfoy before him.

From raised brows of mild confusion and interest to furrowed brows of extreme confusion and concern, Draco kept eye contact with the wizened wizard and asked again, “While specifics would be nice, I’ll rephrase, what do you mean ‘immense amount of magic’?”

The twinkle seemed to fade upon realizing Draco’s confusion was sincere. “Aside from your game of tag and short scuffle with the night creatures, was there nothing which prompt you to use magic?”

Hermione shook her head answering for both of them. “No sir, every instance was reported on. Nothing out of the ordinary, I’m sure we don’t know where that release of magic came from.”

Looking grave, Dumbledore spoke pointedly to Hermione, “We do know the source of the energy variance, and I’m most secure in saying that it was not from just one of you. Two separate patterns, two sources of magic, both of high and unmatched intensity. Miss Granger, I’m certain you know all about the Ministry’s detection system.” He continued after she gave a curt nod. “Then you’ll understand when I tell you that your foray in Mistywoods Forest has produced a new rating on the Ministry’s scale far higher and longer than possible.”

Shaking her head firmly, sending silky and curly tresses bounding, Hermione refuted the Headmaster’s revelation. “Not possible sir.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“No, I mean, neither Draco or myself used any magic that would register like that. It’s all in the report.” She gestured to the scroll in front of Moody. “The traveling was in a portkey manner, no magic from us. After that we used flash step for a while. We did use it for longer than is usual and for further distances, but it uses little magic to begin with. And in the clearing, the fight, most of that was physical, we used flash step then as well, but only in a manner fitting for how Moody showed us. And, before that, I used my Angelus powers, but nothing I haven’t done before.”

Silence followed the confident Gryffindor’s proclamation. Three pairs of eyes stared at the two of them. The meeting had been called mainly to answer the very question they now threw back a forth across the table. Not only did they have no answer, but they now had even more questions.

A loud thud came from Snape’s end, where he’d place a tall container of some ocean blue liquid, which was surely the potion he’d been asked to brew.

Raising her hand as if first asking permission to speak in class Hermione stated, “Before we discuss anything else, I’d just like to state that I refuse to drink that.” After raising her hand, she pointed at the tall glass canister.

Draco couldn’t help but shake with laughter, which try as he might, he couldn’t stifle completely. He was certain he also saw Dumbledore’s eyes dance with mirth, even though in the previous moment they’d been full of concern.

“Miss Granger, this was brewed for the both of you,” Snape said coldly, with an underlying malice that reminded everyone present that he loathed the Gryffindor Princess and didn’t seem too in favor of his previously favorite Slytherin Prince.

Hermione and Draco again shared a look, Hermione’s eyes conveyed her message, ‘This is almost too easy.’ “I think Moody would agree that it is never wise to drink a potion which you yourself have not brewed or seen concocted,” she stated brashly. It was her sadistic streak, which came out rarely and only in order to give people like Snape a hard time for all the torture he’d put her and her best friend’s through the past six years.

“While I cannot refute the kitten’s observation, I do have to say that if either of you does not drink the bloody potion you’ll pay for it for the remainder of this summer,” Moody said, almost jovially.

Draco hadn’t intended to play any games tonight, not even after Hermione’s apparent playful mood, but Moody’s comment reeled him in. “How hypocritical of you old man,” he said coolly, with a touch of amusement and Malfoy smirk. “The kitten merely repeats your own words, and you would have her disobey.” Next, he tutted.

It was Hermione’s turn to laugh. She had fewer contingencies about hiding her laughter and letting it ring out loud to fill the room. As if it were infectious, Dumbledore again showed his own amusement with a slight smile and twinkling eyes.

Hermione’s laugh was like music to Draco’s ears. The blonde made a silent note to himself to make her laugh more often.

Snape’s words were those of reason, or rather threat. “Well, we could spend the rest of our day right here in the dungeons trying to figure everything out, or you could take the potion and be done with it!” His logic inevitably convinced them to down the icy cold blue liquid.

Not five minutes after consumption, Hermione felt a flush come over her and a soft bluish glow envelope her body. Draco was experiencing similar effects beside her.

‘I just love how they clue us in on everything,’ she thought sarcastically as she watched the knowing glances of her professors.

None of them had cared to argue further until she had drunken the bland tasting draught, so she still had no idea what it did or what was happening, though she figured it out shortly after. It was on this note that her mind seemed to make a little memo to ponder later. It took a lot of trust in these three men, even Snape, to have done that just now, and she’d been working on her foundation of trust for six years.

Draco on the other hand had just shown the same degree of faith, perhaps only to Moody, she guessed. But so strong was it to rival her own, and he’d only been with them a matter of months. ‘I have to ask him what happened to bring him to our side.’

“Now that you’ve used the Vital Potion to tell you the same thing we already did, how do you explain it?” Hermione asked as the light faded and each person regarded them in question.

Surely, it had been their last hope that the potion would show the two rookies had not used an inordinate amount of magic within the past few days. If that were the case then they might have some theories and ideas still open, as to how such a tremendous force was possible. Now however, they were at a loss.

Even Dumbledore could not conceive the how such an event was possible. Perhaps in light of seeing previously thought impossibilities become possible right in front of him, Dumbledore was a bit more willing to take matters for what they were, to just accept what had happened. But, he couldn’t. The answer might be invaluable to winning this war.

In an impassive tone that Hermione didn’t take unless she was on guard and questioning those around her, she spoke up, “I think, professor Dumbledore, that you are over analyzing what has happened.” As if testing the waters, she waited to see if it was freezing or comfortably cool.

Dumbledore regarded her with keen and twinkling eyes, awaiting the explanation. It might do well to have the bright young witch’s input.

“I know you want to understand, but sometimes you just have to take it for what it is,” she sighed.

“And what would it be, miss Granger?” Snape sneered.

“It would be, sir, a balance,” she replied glaring over at the Goth like bat of a professor.

Oddly enough, even Snape regarded her with mild interest at this point. So, she continued, “Riddle was a mind ahead of its time. He had power, ambition, knowledge, and a thirst for more power over everyone and everything. He was extreme in every way. Now, we have Voldemort, the same man, only with the interest of fifty years time. Even more of an extreme, if you will.” She gestured lightly with her hands as if dictating with both her voice and body language.

No one even blinked as they waited for her to keep going. She shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. “Then there was Harry. His mother created the blood pact, a magic of love. Most unknown, most powerful, and again most extreme. The stakes were met. Voldemort was a shift in the balance, swaying the tides to the dark side, and Harry was an equaling shift to the light. However, since life is utter chaos, this balance could never remain. Voldemort is raising the bar yet again. You know it, you have seen it. The darkness is consuming, and the light is fading even with Harry.”

Clouded blue eyes stared at her from behind those useless spectacles. “Am I to understand, you believe another shift is waiting to occur?” he questioned, mulling her words over.

“No,” she stated flatly, “I’m saying it already has. My powers, Draco’s ability. None of it is possible and yet, here we are. One extreme matches another. In Muggle politics you may have heard this theory used to reason why countries go to war. ‘One side uses fists and the other buys knives, then one side buys guns and the other upgrades to nuclear arms.’ Do you get my drift, sir?”

Dead silence followed Hermione’s proclaimed theory. It gave them no answers and yet it answered everything at the same time.

“Some insane notion of the Fates just giving you great heaps of magic is not a solid answer!” Snape snapped, rolling his eyes, all the while seriously thinking over her words.

“I can’t explain what the Ministry recorded,” she said in a soft tone, “I have my own ideas, which are half baked at best. But, I don’t see how mulling over it is going to help any.”

“Granger, the trouble is, we want to control it,” Moody stated, and promptly continued upon seeing the defensive look on Draco’s face, “On both your parts, though how you managed it boy is far beyond me, it was a dead give away. When you have no control over your magic, it’s just asking to be traced.”

“So, it’s a liability,” Draco said, summing up what the Auror was getting at.

“Yes, yes. We know, but there isn’t much we can do…” Hermione trailed off, yawning. She wiped tears from her tired eyes. It had been a long morning, and she wasn’t even rested completely.

Draco noticed the fatigue beneath her mask and in his own sympathetic reasoning decided to excuse themselves. After all, they were really only called down so the Order could be completely certain they were indeed the source of the disturbance.

They were allowed to leave without any protesting, which was rather surprising. He wasn’t complaining, now he could go back to bed and sleep in a little. Moody wouldn’t resume training for another day or so, as was standard procedure for any Auror just off a case. It was a couple days down time as a bonus for a job well done.

An uncomfortable silence set in as Draco walked along side Hermione, back to their dorm. Before, he never had to pointedly broach the topic of their relationship. Now that he was going to, he had no clue what to say, which was most unlike him.

As Draco seemed to be in deep thought, Hermione tried her best to ignore the setting of the dungeons until they were on the ground level. It was then she began to feel slightly off kilter. As a rush of cool fresh air met them, she caught the scent of that woodsy sweet smell she loved so much. She knew what was coming as she felt the sudden urge to wrap her arms around Malfoy’s neck and never let go.

“Uh, Draco,” she began in a warning voice, “I think you should know, I told the ‘other me’ she could come out.” Apparently this was how it happened when she was conscious during the switch.

Considering she hadn’t ever heard anything particularly bad about ‘the kitten’, she was surprised at how fast Draco whipped around and looked at her with very worried eyes.

“When?” he asked anxiously, not knowing if he could deal with suppressing any feelings for Hermione after another episode with her more affectionate counter part.

“I think, soon, like now,” she said, refraining from moving any part of her body, as it was liable to reach out and touch Draco.

Draco knew the second the transition occurred. ‘The kitten’ didn’t have Hermione’s eyes. While still the same alluring honey flecked with rust color, they didn’t captivate him, which meant it wasn’t his partner standing before him. The second tip off was when she leapt on him and pushed him back against the wall, arms clings tightly as she buried her head in his neck.

“So the kitten’s come out to play,” he spoke softly as her hair tickled his chin. When she began to make gentle mewling noises, which oddly seemed like her purring, he rolled his eyes. This was going to a very difficult discussion.

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