Harry Potter and the Conch of Ice

Disclaimer : Chapter 1
Recap :
(1) The students return to Hogwarts; the Golden Trio are entering their 7th Year. Draco is alive and found innocent of any wrong doing. Snape has also been found innocent in the death of Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore is alive and continues to be Hogwarts’ Headmaster.
(2) Snape has returned to be the DADA professor. A small group of students from the School of Gaia, known as Elementals, will be attending Hogwarts for a year as their school was destroyed by Voldemort. The Elementals and Draco Malfoy know each other.
(3) Draco is familiar with Elementals as they were key to his survival and healing. The battle faced by the Elementals as they journeyed to Hogwarts is detailed and the Duals explain their fight with the Shadows.

Nocturnal Discussions

The Golden Trio sat in the Gryffindor common room, slightly separated from their other housemates. This allowed them to give the illusion of being together with their fellow Gryffindors but also provided a sense of privacy so desperately needed for a conversation. The soft velvets of rich burgundies were complimented by plush velours of gold. Sofas and chairs were scattered about the common room while desks and tables were rearranged to suit the students’ needs.

“Hermione.” Harry leaned over and touched his friend’s hand lightly. “I think I know who R.A.B. is…or rather, was.”

Hermione looked at Harry in shock. It wasn’t that she had forgotten about the note left behind with the false Horcrux, but her attention over the past few months was rather preoccupied with other events in her life. Upon learning about the note, Hermione had immediately done some research and only two wizards were discovered to have those initials but neither had appeared capable or interested in actively defying Voldemort.

Unfortunately, her summer had pulled her away from doing any further investigating and, truth be told, for those few months away from her friends she had almost forgotten about the Horcruxes. Not Voldemort, she could never forget him, but the Horcruxes were far from her mind.

“Who?” She asked, the Gryffindor curiousity flaring up in full force.

“Regulus Black. I can’t find his middle name in any of the family papers, other than it starting with the letter A. Knowing how steeped the Black family was in tradition, ‘Toujours pur’ afterall, my guess is that his middle name was Arcturus, after his grandfather.” Harry held out the note for Hermione to read again.

To the Dark Lord
I know that I will be dead long before you read this
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.

“I thought maybe the A could stand for Alphard, the uncle, but considering how he was wiped off of the family tree, I’m guessing Regulus’s middle name is Arcturus.” Harry babbled on.

Hermione nodded, a thought appearing in her head.

“But if I recall, Regulus was killed…umm…around seventeen years ago now right?”

It was Harry’s turn to nod.

“Siri…” Harry’s voice cracked slightly, remembering his godfather would always have that effect on him, he was certain. “Sirius showed me the Black family tree when we were in fifth year, when we first learned about the Order. Sirius told me that Voldemort, or one of his more devout followers, killed Regulus. He said that Regulus realized too late that he was entering a world that he wasn’t ready for and that he probably panicked when Voldemort asked him to do something.”

“Like Malfoy.” Hermione murmured. Harry and Ron each shot her an angry look.

“Sorry.” She apologized. The boys’ glares lessened but didn’t disappear. Hermione took a breath and continued. “But if Regulus was killed that long ago, that means that the Horcrux was stolen at least that long ago as well…assuming R.A.B. is Regulus. And if it was Regulus who took the Horcrux, he says that he intends to destroy it…there is no mention that it actually was destroyed.”

“I’m thinking that Voldemort asked Regulus to do something which triggered his panic. In desperation, Regulus – somehow knowing about the Horcruxes – found the real locket and took it…maybe to have some pull over Voldemort.” Harry explained.

“Maybe Voldemort discovered that Regulus took the locket and killed him before he had a chance to destroy it.” Ron thought out loud.

“That means that the Horcrux could still be around.” Hermione gasped. “How do we find it? Let alone the rest of them?”

“I’ll need to talk to Dumbledore. He’ll be able to point me in the right direction.” Harry said quietly.

“Us, Harry…he’ll point us in the right direction.”

“Hermione, we’ve gone over this before…” Harry’s voice was tired but patient.

“No, Harry, no we haven’t.” Hermione jumped up from the couch and turned angrily towards her best friend. The other Gryffindors stopped their talking and stared at the Golden Trio. “You’ve gone over it. You’ve said it. We have not. We’re your friends and we’re going to do this together. We’re not about to let you go off on this search by yourself. There is strength to be found in numbers and if you think about all of the things we have done over these years, each of us has contributed to every success we have had against the dark side.”

“She’s got a point, Harry.” Ron piped up. “She’s the brains of this outfit. You bring the passion and determination.”

Hermione shot a smirk at Ron. “And what do you bring, Ronald?”

“Comedic relief.” Neville piped up from the nearby couch. Ginny, sitting beside him, laughed.

“Ha ha ha, very funny.” Ron glared at his sister and Neville. He threw a pillow at the offending pair.

“When do you think we can speak with Dumbledore?” Hermione asked Harry softly.

“Huh?” Harry tore his eyes away from Neville and Ginny. They had gone to the Yule Ball together during the Triwizard experience, but nothing had ever come from it. The creature in his chest returned and growled a protest. He had been the one to call their relationship off and it wasn’t as if Ginny had made some promise to wait for him. Still, though, she didn’t have to flaunt the fact that she was having a relationship right in front of him.

“Dumbledore, Harry. When do you think we can speak with him?” Hermione slowly repeated her question.

“We can try tomorrow.” Harry said, distracted by Ginny’s laughter coming from the other sofa.

Hermione glanced over and back to Harry. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You should…” She started.

“No.” Harry shrugged Hermione’s hand off of him. “I had…have…my reasons and they’re as true today as they were then.”

“Dumbledore’s not dead, Harry. Voldemort hasn’t killed off everyone that you loved.”

“That doesn’t stop him from trying.” Harry’s bleak gaze looked over as Ron ruffled his sister’s hair despite her loud protests. “That’s why I should do this alone.”

“You are such a thick-headed dolt sometimes, Potter.” Hermione spat out. “You being alone is exactly what Voldemort wants. Alone and unloved, just like him.”

Harry stared at Hermione.

“With your friends by your side, with love around you, don’t you see? You can’t be defeated. We are your armour. We are your shield. And if you show that you have the capability to love in return, that will only double your strength. Voldemort won’t stand a chance.” Hermione nudged Harry towards the other couch. “Go and talk to her.”

“I saw her at the Burrow. We talked during the summer.”

“But you didn’t talk talk.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Go and tell her what you feel.”

“I can’t, Hermione. I need to think.” Harry tossed one last sad glance over towards Ron, Neville and Ginny who were now playing a game of Exploding Snap, before wandering up to his bed. Ginny turned her head slightly to watch, an unreadable expression crossing her face. She looked at Hermione who just shrugged and left through the portrait to return to her own dorm.

“Come on, Ginny. Your turn.” Ron prodded his sister.

HP***hp***HP

Tanis and Mesphin made it safely back to their common room with Professor Flitwick’s guidance. Along the way, he had regaled them with stories and warnings about the ghosts who resided in Hogwarts including some of the more nefarious ones such as Peeves. By the time they reached the portrait of Athena, the two Duals were looking around for floating buckets of water and shallow pits of goo on the floor. Thanking the squeaky-voiced Charms Professor for his assistance, they entered their common room and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the four fireplaces warmly greeting them.

“Do you think he was just teasing us?” Mesphin asked. “I mean, really, ghosts who pull practical jokes?”

“He’s not really a ghost, remember?” Tanis said. “I don’t know about Peeves, but I really want to meet this Moaning Myrtle. Floats around in the air and hangs out in the bathroom…wind and water combined. My kind of spook.”

“You’re strange, Carr.”

“It’s part of my charm.” Tanis said loftily and tossed her hair behind her.

The banter continued more softly as they made their way up the spiral iron-wrought stair case. The sounds of gentle breathing and soft snores escaped the bedrooms of the younger years. Smiling at how the innocent could sleep so easily after the scare they had had, the two Duals climbed all the way to the top floor where their rooms were.

“Oh, right, you haven’t seen your room yet.” Tanis said and pointed. “That door…and unlike the others, we get our own bathrooms, which is good because you take forever in the morning.”

“Hey, it takes a lot of work to look this good.”

Tanis laughed lightly at the egotistical statement.

“Gonna tuck me in?” Mesphin asked coaxingly, glimpses of his teeth shining white in the darkness.

“You’re a little old for that, Bane. Go tuck yourself in.” Tanis turned towards her own door. “See you in a few hours.”

Mesphin sighed.

“Can’t we, just once, skip the weekly morning ritual?” He complained.

“If you wish to face the wrath of Ivyleaf, you go ahead and do just that.” Tanis grinned. “It’s one day out of seven. Surely you can manage.”

“Fine, but if I’m blowing bubbles while face down in my cereal at breakfast…”

“I’ll haul your head out of the milk.” Tanis laughed as she walked into her room. Closing the door, she sighed in pleasure at finally being alone. Unfortunately, her solitude was not for long as a few moments later, a soft knocking intruded upon her thoughts. Immediately thinking it was one of the first years who had had a nightmare, Tanis prepared herself for an hour of dealing with tears and sniffles.

Opening the door, she saw Mesphin, his face focused and rather alert for the late hour.

“Didn’t take you long to change.” She noted, taking in his casual lounging attire.

“I may take long to get ready in the morning, but at night, I strip quite quickly.”

Tanis held up a hand to stop the conversation.

“That, my friend, falls under the category of ‘too much information’. How you strip is really of little of interest to me.” Tanis stepped aside to let her fellow Dual into the room. “What’s on your mind?”

“That obvious, am I?”

Tanis closed the door and sat on her own bed. Removing her shoes, she sighed happily as her fingers rubbed her soles and toes.

“Here…let me.” Mesphin offered. He signaled for Tanis to lean back as he took over the task of rubbing her feet. “I’m worried.”

“Care to be more specific, Bane? There are so many things going on right now for us to be to worried about.”

“That’s precisely why I’m worried.”

“Come again?”

“Look, how long are we supposed to keep Malfoy in the dark?”

“He knows about Dumbledore.” Tanis admitted.

Bane stopped in mid-massage, thumbs stilled on the arch of a foot.

“You told him?” His deep voice conveyed his surprise.

“More or less. I didn’t give him details but admitted that we knew Dumbledore was alive this summer. He thinks that…she…worked for the Headmaster.”

Mesphin sighed.

“In a way, she did.”

“Dumbledore said that she was the perfect one to take care of him. Her only condition with us was that we not tell Draco who she was.” Tanis reminded her friend.

“And now?”

“We won’t tell him, Mesphin. We promised. We Elementals hold true to our promises.”

The dark young man sighed again, louder.

“How about I tuck you in?” He offered, changing topics.

“I’m hardly dressed for bed.” Tanis pointed out.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Not only do I strip myself quickly, but I also can…”

“Never mind!” Tanis laughed, pushing Mesphin off of her bed with her feet. “Get out. I want to get some sleep before sunrise.”

“Your loss, Carr.” Mesphin joked as he shut the door behind himself.

HP***hp***HP

Draco stroked the velvet muzzle of the palomino horse, who whickered softly and inched her head over the wooden stall gate to be closer to the young man.

“I missed you, too, Mist.” The horse, hearing her nickname, nibbled gently on Draco’s fingers. “No, no snacks today, my friend.”

It was Draco’s turn to snort softly. Friends. He really didn’t have any, did he? He had thought his housemates would stand by him, but they deserted him at the first opportunity. Only Blaise had remained but even Draco could sense a wall between them. His own family hadn’t supported him. He thought that the Elementals were his friends, but to hide the secret of Dumbledore’s true status from him and leave him to live with the guilt proved that they had not cared a knut for him. Even she had disappeared from his life without a backwards glance. That was the wonderful thing about animals, Draco realized, ruffling his long fingers through the golden mane of Misty Wings, they held no grudges.

Misty Wings was the equine familiar for Tanis. She was an Arabian and was gentle enough to allow a blind Draco to ride her. At first Tanis had led Mist while Draco sat on top and gained his balance. But it wasn’t long before Draco was able to ride Mist without a chaperone, as long as it was in an open area where no low hanging tree branches would knock his unseeing self from his mount.

An indignant snort was heard from the stall across the stable and Draco turned.

“Winston?” He asked softly.

A not so gentle kick greeted his question and the head of a grey Andalusian stallion popped around the wall and over the gate.

Winston was the equine familiar for a Wind Elemental named Scott. Draco had remembered meeting him only when Tanis was asking to borrow Winston. She wanted to ride Mist and Draco needed his own mount. Winston would follow Mist anywhere so he was the logical choice and Scott had grudgingly agreed. Draco had run his hands over the horse and declared him a handsome mount and recalled questioning how Scott could name him Winston.

“Dunno…he just looks like a Winston, you know?” Was the cryptic response. Draco now looked at the horse and still could not understand how such a magnificent beast could receive such an undignified name. Patting Mist, Draco walked over to Winston and began to stroke the grey’s muzzle. Nickering in pleasure, Winston allowed his tongue to hang out of the side of his mouth. Suddenly, Draco understood what Scott had said and chuckled to himself.

The chuckle stopped when Draco realized that he had not seen Scott amongst the Elementals at Hogwarts. Odds were that he was placed in another school some place else in the world, but why would his familiar be here at Hogwarts instead of where Scott was? Draco made a note to let Dumbledore know about the mix up as soon as possible.

Yes, animals were apparently the only true friends he had and Draco pondered the merits of adding Care of Magical Creatures to his course load. Sneering at the idea of learning anything from that half-giant Hagrid, Draco promised himself that he would learn all he needed to about animals from reading and spending time with the Elementals’ familiars. If the Gaians allowed it.

HP***hp***HP

Hermione looked around the common room of the Head Students, pleasure and delight crossing her face. A warm fire blazed happily in the hearth, providing light on all the book shelves filled with leather-wrapped tomes and bronze figurines of previous Head Students. Unlike the portraits throughout the school, the statuettes were not magically inclined and did not move or speak. It was comforting to Hermione to be considered their peer without having to know that they were watching her.

She had one year to prove herself and her capabilities. One year to show that she was more than a muggle-born witch. One year to show that she was more than one third of the Golden Trio. One year to show them all who Hermione Granger was.

“Too bad you don’t even know who Hermione Granger is.” The Gryffindor Princess muttered softly to herself. “But you’ve got some time to figure it all out.”

A short flight of six stone steps led up to two wooden doors, each decorated with a bronze door knocker. One was graced with the head of a lion while the other was clearly in the form of a serpent. Logically, the lion door knocker would lead into her room, but curiousity overwhelmed Hermione and she tried the door with the serpent.

She knocked softly first and, with no response, tried to turn the door knob. The serpent hissed threateningly at Hermione as soon as her fingers wrapped around the handle.

“Thisssss isssss not your room.” It warned, tongue flickering out in disdain.

“I…I know.” Hermione stammered out. “I wanted to see if Malfoy was in here.”

“He issss not.” Came the response, green eyes flaring up in response. “Do you have a messsssage to leave him?”

“N…no.” Hermione stared at the door knocker. She turned towards her own door, where the ruby eyes of the lion glowed in recognition.

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” The lion rumbled softly.

“Hello.” She cocked her head. “Do you have a name?”

“I have had many names over many years.” The lion chuckled. “As a Gryffindor student is made a Head Student, I am given the honour to protect their room. Each student has named me something different…some more complimentary than others.”

Hermione bit back a smile before becoming thoughtful.

“Rashida. A bit of mutation on the name, but it honours the guardian lions outside of the Chinese imperial palaces.” Hermione decided.

“I believe that that those lions came in pairs, one male and one female.” The door knocker reminded her.

“Trust me, I’ll guard and protect what is mine. You sound male and I’m female.”

“An interesting take on tradition.” The lion chuckled gently. “Rashida…I like it. Thank you. And now down to business. You have two messages.”

“How…how does that work exactly? I mean, how does someone leave you a message?”

“There are several ways, Hermione…may I call you that?” The young woman nodded. “Professors may leave a message by contacting me directly. A Head Student may leave a message for the other Head Student by speaking with the other door knocker…I believe you have already spoken with that…creature beside me.”

Hermione giggled at the disdain in the door knocker’s voice. Yes, the dislike between the two houses even went as far deep as the door knockers.

“If there is a student in this common room who wishes to speak with you and you are not here, again, they may speak with me. Likewise for the Head Boy. Lastly, all others may leave a message with me outside by the portrait entrance to this room.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice you outside, as well.”

“Not surprising, but on either side of the portrait you will find two more door knockers. They are replicas of us…they are us. Most people are rather in awe with the portrait and never see us. It is a rather breathtaking piece of art.”

“Who is she?”

“She is the Queen of Fire, a goddess by some and a mere woman by others. I’m sure that there is book down on those shelves where you could read all about her.”

Hermione turned back towards the shelves and began to descend down the stairs. Stopping, she turned back towards Rashida.

“You said I had messages?”

“Ah, yes. Headmaster Dumbledore wishes you all the best in your new position and says that you should not hesitate should you wish to speak with him about anything…anything at all. And…ah…right…Professor McGonagall reminds you that while you are Head Girl, you are still a Gryffindor and to conduct yourself accordingly.” The lion chuckled at this. “I should remind her about her time as Head Girl and how she conducted herself.”

Hermione gaped at the lion door knocker.

“Even Minerva McGonagall was young once too, Miss Granger.” The lion admonished gently.

“Rashida.” Hermione started, venturing close to the lion. “What happens in my room, will it remain confidential? Will you…tell anyone?”

“What exactly are you planning on doing in your room, Hermione?” The lion grinned, baring his teeth at her. The bronze incisors shone brightly from the fire’s flames.

Hermione was silent.

“Do not worry, Hermione. What you do in your room will be between you and me alone. Trust me when I say that I do believe I’ve seen and heard it all. Nothing you do can shock me. However, I must warn you. While I will not discuss what you do out here in the common room, as well, my neighbour may not be so accommodating with your privacy.”

The two Gryffindors turned at the hiss emanating from the door knocker beside them.

“I see he is a touchy as ever.” The lion rumbled.

HP***hp***HP

Ron sat on the edge of Harry’s bed, knowing that the black haired boy really wasn’t reading the book clasped in his hands.

“Hermione was right, Harry. You’re not in this alone.”

“I know.” Harry sighed. “But I care about you guys so much and I don’t want any thing to happen to you.”

Ron shifted. He was rather uncomfortable with this talk about care and feelings…especially in the boys dormitory.

“We don’t want anything to happen to you, either, though. That’s what Hermione is saying, I think. That because we…you know…umm….ca…are such good friends, Voldemort can be defeated. He can’t break this bond between us.”

“I know…but that doesn’t make it any easier for me to accept the idea of involving both of you.” Harry acknowledged.

“Speaking of bonding, I was going to tell Hermione this summer…if she came to visit.”

“Tell her what?” Harry asked.

“That I…I…you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” Green eyes frowned.

“Like her.”

“I like her, too.” Harry replied, clueless.

“I like her like her.” Ron tried again.

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes widened. “OH!”

“Yeah, oh.” Ron said softly.

“You could go tell her now.” Harry said. Inside of him, the creature cried in pain. Bad enough to lose Ginny to Neville, but now two-thirds of the Trio was about to become a pair. Harry frowned at the math that just didn’t add up.

“It’s after curfew.”

“So? That’s never stopped us before. You could take my invisibility cloak.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll talk to her tomorrow…I mean, what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Harry remembered his relationship with Cho and the whole feelings issues that were between them.

“I’m not the right guy to talk to about feelings, Ron.”

“Oh…right…about Ginny…” Ron started.

“Let’s not talk about her, please.” Harry cut his friend off. “I’m happy if she happy.”

“But the thing is…”

“Hey, guys, you’re still up?” Neville popped into the room.

“Just going to sleep now.” Harry said, more sharply than he intended. Ron and Neville looked strangely at him. “Good night.”

Harry rolled over and closed his eyes, hoping that he would be left alone. No, he didn’t want to talk about Ginny. Yes, he lied saying he was happy if she was happy. He would only be happy if she was happy with him. Not…Neville…the Could-Have-Been-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry felt Ron get off the side of his bed and heard him wander over to his own. His friend was trying to talk to him about Ginny knowing full well how Harry felt. Punching his pillow in frustration, Harry scrunched his eyes together and willed himself to sleep.

HP***hp***HP

“Granger.”

Hermione, reading a book while lying on the couch, looked up at the cold, yet tired, voice. She resisted the urge to ask him where he had gone after quickly leaving the Great Hall. It was tempting, but she felt he wouldn’t appreciate a rather nag-like question at this point in time and it was rather moot to mention the fact that curfew had long since passed.

“Welcome to our common room, Malfoy.” She said softly.

“Aren’t you going to run out of here…away from me?” He sneered.

“Do I have a reason to?”

He blinked.

“I’m Head Boy…isn’t that reason enough?” He sat on the arm of the couch, opposite end from Hermione.

Hermione tilted her head as if giving the idea some thought.

“No. Now, if you were a wizard who enjoyed wearing pink lacy knickers, I’d leave and go lock up my stash of lingerie…”

“You wear pink lacy knickers?” A blond eyebrow arched upwards in surprise.

“Should I go lock them up?” Hermione fired back.

“Only from Blaise.”

“Really?” Hermione’s mouth formed an O in shock at this new tasty tidbit.

“No.” Draco rolled his eyes. “He’s just figuring out which side he wants to play Quidditch for. In the meantime, he’s very comfortable with his boxers.”

“Are you a tighty-whitey kind of guy?” Hermione joked.

“Green, thank you.” Draco was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with this line of conversation.

“Ah, teeny greenies!” Hermione giggled at her joke.

“How can you sit there and mock me?” Draco asked tightly.

“How can I not?” Hermione asked, sitting up. “You have been deemed innocent, Draco. That clears you in my eyes.”

“I thought Tanis was in the minority.” Draco murmured.

“I think, Mr. Malfoy, that you will find you have more friends than you are aware of.” Hermione stood up, not recognizing how Dumbledore-like she sounded with that statement. “I’m going to bed.”

“Granger.” Draco held out a hand to stop her. His fingers clasped over her soft skin and for a moment he was thrown back in time to memories of her. Her skin had been soft and warm under his touch. Even knowing what he was accused of, she had never tensed up around him. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Thank you.”

Nodding, Hermione quickly entered her room and, to be on the safe side, locked up her collection of frilly, lacy and otherwise feminine under things.

HP***hp***HP

Draco stared at the two door knockers. He had seen Hermione enter through the door with the lion head on the left. That meant the one on the right, graced with the bronze serpent, must lead up into his room.

Tentatively, Draco reached out to touch the door knob and jumped back, startled as the serpent spoke.

“Welcome, Draco Malfoy, Head Boy and fellow Ssssslytherin. You have two messsssagesss.”

“Really?” Draco tilted his head. “Are you some form of answering service.”

The snake’s emerald eyes glowed in disdain.

“I am a protector of your room. I ensssssure no one entersssss without your permissssion. I promisssssse your ssssecretsssss and privaccccccy.”

“And you take messages.” Draco grinned.

“Yesss.” The serpent said sadly. “Imagine my horror….a Sssssslytherin reduccccced to taking messsssagesss for a sssstudent. To become a mere ssssservant.”

“Well, there are worse things, I suppose.” Draco said simply.

“Yessss, there are.” The serpent nodded. “But you would an exsssspert on that, wouldn’t you? How doesssss it feel, betraying your family…betraying Him?”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

The serpent’s tongue flickered out, carelessly.

“No, you do not. You are Head Boy and a fellow Ssssslytherin and I am duty bound to remain ssssilent on what you do behind thisssss door. No matter how disssgusssting I find you.” The emerald eyes narrowed tightly.

“Then do your duty and tell me of my messages.” Draco’s voice was tight.

“Headmassster Dumbledore congratulatessss you on becoming Head Boy and welcomessss you back to Hogwarts and your new common room. Ssssshould you wisssssh to talk, he informsssss you that you may contact him at any time.”

Draco nodded. “And the next.”

“Professsssssor Ssssssnape remindssss you that while you are Head Boy, you are also a Sssslytherin and to conduct yoursssself accordingly.”

“Bah…he’s one to talk about conduct.” Draco growled. His hand touched the door knob. “Let me in to my room.”

The wooden door swung open and Draco entered a room filled with Slytherin colours. His trunks lay at the foot of the bed and Draco rifled through them finding something more comfortable than his uniform and robes. He knew he wouldn’t sleep and shortly after changing into the soft cotton pants, he resumed unpacking his trunk.

Books, quills, parchment and the remainder of his school supplies were transferred neatly over to his work station. One of the benefits of being a Head Student, he surmised, was having a large desk in his room. He would not be forced to work in the common room with Granger if she was there…or worse, there with her friends. He would have his privacy and suddenly things were beginning to look brighter to him.

His clothing was quickly organized within the dark wardrobe in the corner, shirts and pants sorted by colour, lights to darks. Even his socks and underclothes were organized in a similar pattern. To some, it may have appeared that Draco Malfoy was rather obsessive compulsive, but it was nice to have some order in his life. It had, after all, come in handy when he was blind. By knowing the order of his clothing, he was usually able to ensure that he still looked presentable to the outside world.

He eyed the vials of potions carefully wrapped in protective layers of cotton and leather. The green liquid was Dreamless Draught and there were fourteen vials waiting for him. The pink liquid was Wakefullness Draught, to ensure that he would not fall asleep but without giving him the giddiness that too much coffee would. Only three of the original fourteen remained. He needed to make more.

The Dreamless Draught was a last resort for him. Draco had tried it once to no avail. He had still dreamed…horrible, frightening dreams. It was better to not sleep. It was safer to not sleep.

In the room next door, Hermione had heard Draco’s door close. She looked up from her book at the silence and presumed he had gone to sleep. Nodding in satisfaction, Hermione returned her attention to her book. She was unsure how much time had passed before she heard the door close again. Draco had left his room. Hermione resisted the urge to see if Draco remained in the common room or if he had left their dorm altogether, but her ability to concentrate on what she was reading was gone.

HP***hp***HP

Draco sat in the Heads common room and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep well since leaving the Gaians. She had been near him whenever he had a nightmare and silently chased them away. She had held him and rocked him until he fell asleep again. She had been there when he awoke in the morning and while he couldn’t see her, Draco knew she was smiling just for him.

He didn’t know her name or what she looked like and yet Draco felt that he had fallen in love with her. If her gentle actions were any indication of her feelings, Draco was almost certain she felt the same way for him.

*** flashback ***

“I can’t sleep.” Draco whispered. “I see him. I see what I almost did. I see what was done. So much death. I can’t sleep.”

As had happened every time he woke up from a nightmare, two soft arms wrapped around him and he burrowed into the warm embrace. It was strange, but in these two arms, Draco found acceptance and understanding and comfort and even love. It was enough to keep the bad dreams at bay and start the beginnings of new dreams.

“I don’t know who you are. Please forgive me.” Leaning up, Draco blindly placed his fingers on her face and skimmed lightly over her skin. He traced her contours, her eyebrows and even her slightly smiling mouth, sketching her features in his mind.

“You’re beautiful.” He said simply and pulled her down to meet him. Their mouths met innocently enough, but for Draco it was the most powerful healing medication in the world. For this woman, he would give anything. She was pure light to his darkness.

What started off innocently became more. He knew he was leaving soon. Ivyleaf had told him about the Wizengamot. He would never spend time with this woman again, if he was found guilty. Draco felt a need to make as many pleasant memories as possible.

Her arms wrapped around him tighter and he felt himself being pulled down on top of her. It wasn’t the first time that Draco had found himself in such a position with a woman and yet, with her, everything felt new again. He cherished the feeling and celebrated the precious limited time they had together. He whispered words of her unseen beauty as his hands ran over her body.

She gave him a gift that night. A gift, so precious, that Draco had never anticipated receiving it. When she gave herself to him that night, Draco had felt as if he was unworthy. With just a few caresses from her, however, he promised them both that he would be the man she wordlessly believed him to be.

The next morning, she was gone. She had left before he could. He never had a chance to say goodbye. He had never known that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye.

*** end flashback ***

Draco’s eyes slowly closed. Memories of her always soothed him and he found himself beginning to relax in the warm common room. He pulled a light blanket over him and leaned back into the pillows.

Sleep. Blissful sleep.

His eyes popped open as screams surrounded him. Shadows enveloped the air above him and he tried to run. Caught up in the blanket, his legs became twisted and he fell forward. Crying out in frustration, he tried to kick the blanket away. To no avail. Draco started to crawl, but the Shadows blocked his path. He curled up into a sitting position and tried to bravely face the evil tormentors.

“What do you want?” He yelled at the Shadows.

“You.” They moaned their reply.

“Why?”

“You failed.” The moan went through him. “We do not accept failure.”

“I did not fail!” Draco protested loudly.

“You did not kill. You ran. You hid. You failed. You are a coward.”

“I am no coward!” Draco shouted.

“Draaaacoooo….” They moaned.

“Draaaacooo….” The loud became louder.

“Draco.” They touched him. “Draco.”

His eyes widened.

“I am not a coward!” Draco punched and lashed out at them.

“Draco!”

Draco bolted upright. Hermione looked at him with large brown eyes.

“It was a bad dream, Draco. That’s all.”

He shuddered at the memories.

“Come here.” Hermione sat on the edge of the couch and pulled Draco into her arms.

“You’re touching me, Granger.” He muttered stiffly, trying to pull away.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She retorted primly.

Cautiously, Draco leaned into her. He wasn’t looking forward to this. She wouldn’t be the same as his unknown friend, but…he sniffed. Draco tensed up. He delicately sniffed again. His breathing increased. No. Oh no. Oh nononononono!

He leaned back out of Hermione’s grasp, shock crossing his face.

“What’s wrong now, Malfoy?” She asked, tightening the belt on her robe. “Was it that bad?”

“You’re her!” He shouted, jumping up from the couch.

“P…pardon?” Hermione stammered.

“You’re her!” Draco accused.

“Who?”

“You’re the one…you healed me…and we…kissed…and we….you…me and you…you’re her!” Draco yelled. The room started to spin around him. Blindly, he groped out and found his hands clutching the arm of the sofa.

“Please, Malfoy. You’re delusional.” Hermione tried to placate him.

“No! I know her scent…your scent, apparently!” Draco paled.

Hermione remained silent.

“That’s why you wouldn’t talk! I said it was because either you couldn’t or wouldn’t or that I would recognize your voice. It was the last one!” Draco accused. “You knew it was me and never let me know it was you. You let me believe that I was with strangers!”

“Would you have preferred knowing that it was a mudblood healing you?”

“You admit it!” He howled in frustration. “I’ve been dreaming about her…you…”

“Draco, I…”

“You what, Granger? Never meant to let it go that far? Never meant to make me like you? Never meant to heal me?”

“Two out of three isn’t bad.” She smiled slightly.

“I’m in pain here and you’re cracking jokes?” He stared at her, blue eyes wide in disbelief.

She shrugged.

“Look, just stay away from me.” Draco stepped back. “Merlin…it was you! I can’t believe it was you! All this time…”

He eyed her carefully.

“Sweet Circe, but you’re a great actress.”

“Come again?” Hermione stared.

“Dumbledore. You looked as shocked as the rest of us in the Great Hall. However did you manage that? I mean, knowing that he was alive and all.” His voice was cold.

“I didn’t know!” Hermione protested.

“I don’t believe you.” Draco hissed, and ran a hand through his hair. He noticed Hermione’s hands clenching. “What? What’s this? You want to catch those strands I missed, Granger? Just like you did all summer?”

She stared, ignoring his mocking tone.

Throwing himself onto his knees before her, Draco grabbed her hand and placed it on his forehead.

“Well, go ahead. Isn’t that what you do? Push away the ones that I missed?” He snarled.

Hermione’s hand remained still on his Draco’s warm forehead.

“You’re upset.” She said, trying to remain calm.

“I’m upset. I’m upset? She thinks I’m upset!” Draco yelled to the room. “Bloody hell, I’m upset! I’ve been abused, tortured, called a coward, deemed a failure, lied to…and now…to find out about this!”

“What’s so bad about this, Malfoy?”

Draco stared at Granger as if he didn’t recognize her. His pale eyes were wide and gulped down air as if it was all that was keeping him alive. Truly, what was so bad about this? He was alive and found innocent and rich and young. All tainted by falling in…like…with a mudblood. Kept alive by a mudblood. Indebted to a mudblood. It wasn’t that this whole situation was…bad…it was just…Draco exhaled loudly in frustration.

“Why did you do it?” He finally asked, stalling for time. Time, he needed, to come to terms with whatever it was he was feeling.

“Do what?”

“Help me.” Draco rolled his eyes. For the supposedly smartest witch of their age, Granger could be really dense sometimes.

Hermione shrugged.

“Nuh uh, Granger. That’s not going to cut it with me. I’m tired of people not giving me answers. I spent all summer talking. Your turn.”

Hermione bit her lower lip and Draco found himself fascinated with her whole process of worrying on that tender bit of pink flesh.

“I know you…I mean, I thought I knew you and even though every fibre of my Gryffindor spirit is supposed to hate you, I couldn’t see you suffer.” Hermione said. “Besides, if you were guilty, I wanted you to be alive to face your trial.”

“You wanted me to get what was coming to me?” Draco actually smirked. “How utterly Slytherin of you.”

“Ivyleaf said that she felt I would be the only to help you. The Elementals would heal you but she felt that I could, even if silent, be the only one who would understand you.”

Draco remained silent.

“I agreed to the plan with one condition.”

“Let me guess.” Draco held up a hand. “That no one tell me who you were.”

Hermione nodded.

“Congratulations.” Draco spat out. “They said nothing.”

“They are Elementals and will hold true to their promise. It was an honourable Unbreakable.”

Draco winced at the mention of that word. Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, Draco, I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean...I shouldn’t have said…” Hermione jumped up to grab Draco’s hands. He pushed her away and staggered over to the fire place. The red and orange flames reflected off of his pale skin.

“You answered my question of why.” He said quietly. “But how could you? If you honestly did believe Dumbledore to be dead, how could you help me, knowing my role in the whole ordeal?”

“I don’t know.” Hermione said softly behind him. “I just did. And over the summer, as you talked, I realized that you didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps. I realized that ever since we met, you’ve done what you thought you were supposed to do…been what you thought others expected you to be. I mean, yes, you were a brat…an insufferable bastard, to be truthful…but you were doing what your father wanted you to do. Not necessarily what you wanted to do for yourself. You’ve experienced growing pains just like the rest of us. And that night when we…well…I knew you were finally being honest with yourself about who you were and who you want to be.”

Draco turned, a strange flush covering his face.

“I am perfectly capable of being all that I have been these past few years.” He said coldly. How dare she call him out like that!

“I know.” Hermione agreed, not backing down from his stare. Memories of his taunts, cruel mocking words, a hex that caused her teeth to grow quickly crashed through Hermione’s brain. “But do you wish to be?”

“I am who I am and I will be who I will be.”

“Lovely, you spend a summer with the Elementals and now you’re talking like them.” Hermione grumbled. “You’re not evil, Draco. You’re not a killer. You’re a prat…you’re annoying…you’re arrogant…”

“Stop, please, you’re making me blush, Granger.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“…but deep down,” Hermione continued, as if Draco hadn’t interrupted her. “You’re good and you want to be good. I saw you in the forest, listening to the trees and enjoying the sun. I saw you in the gardens at the Gaian School, gently running your hands over the grass and over the petals of the flowers.”

“Man’s way of admitting that he is happy to be alive.” The Slytherin shrugged. “You lied to me, Granger. You had all summer to tell me who you were.”

“Oh, right, like that would have been the smart thing to do, Malfoy.” It was Hermione’s turn to sneer. “Tell you, an injured Death Eater, that you are being cared for by one of your hated enemies.”

“Hatred might have sped up my healing.” Draco considered.

“Does it really matter that I was there?” Hermione asked.

“Do you really need to ask that, Granger?” Draco scoffed.

“Yes.” Her voice was pained.

“Why?” Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you care for me? Please, Granger, you were part of my healing process, that’s all…but I suppose I should thank you for all that you did…every last bit of it.”

Draco pulled Hermione against him and sought her lips with his own. He could feel her struggling against him, like a small frightened animal. His lips took Hermione’s mouth prisoner and he could feel her heart racing under her thin robe. It was when she stilled that he became worried.

“What’s the matter, Granger? Don’t like my display of appreciation? Does it repulse you?” Draco’s next words were interrupted as Hermione’s hand cracked across his face. He reached up to touch his cheek.

“You are a bastard.” She hissed at him.

“Yes I am. That hasn’t changed.” Draco’s eyes narrowed, his voice cold and harsh.

“Not because of that action you call a kiss.” Hermione explained and enjoyed a moment a satisfaction at his confused expression. “You’re a bastard because you’re scared and too much of a coward to admit it.”

“Don’t call me that.” He warned.

“You’re a scared little boy, Malfoy. You have the chance to live the life you want now and you’re too damned scared to take it. Slytherin’s are supposed to take what they want. The world is now open to you, Malfoy, and you’re too scared to reach out and go for whatever it is you want.” Hermione’s voice cracked a bit and she took a breath to steel herself. “We healed you, Malfoy. You have been given a second chance. Don’t waste it.”

“You could have said no to the request to help heal me.”

“I could have.” Hermione agreed. “But I don’t regret what I did.”

“None of it?” A blond eye arched up questioningly as his voice mocked.

“No…none of it.” Hermione repeated, returning Draco’s stare unflinchingly.

“I’m going for a walk.” Draco picked up his robes and stalked out of their common room. Hermione didn’t need to remind him it was after curfew and silently watched his figure disappear.