**Disclaimer:  Everything belongs to JK Rowling, nothing is mine.

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Chapter 25:

Hermione clambered through the portrait as quietly as she could. She was surprised to find a small fire still burning in the common room. At such a late hour most students were in bed. But the scratch of a quill could be heard and Hermione smiled when she saw whom it was.

“Ron,” she called out softly.

The redhead glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. He was sitting at a parchment-strewn table; his Charms book lay open before him. There was also a plate of sandwiches near his arm.

“Hullo Hermione, how’re your hands?”

“Better I think,” Hermione lifted them so that he could examine them in the firelight. “Hungry?” She asked nodding her head at the plate.

“Those are for you, since you didn’t come to lunch or supper. Harry and I figured that you might be hungry if you ever came out of the library.” Ron turned back to his homework and sighed glumly.

Hermione settled herself in the chair next to him and started to pick through the stack of sandwiches, searching.

“The cheese sandwiches are on the left side, I told Harry that you only liked cheese, but Fred and George convinced him that you had a secret love of tuna and pickles. Honestly, I wonder about Harry sometimes, he’s so gullible.”

“Thanks Ron,” Hermione exclaimed gratefully as she set down yet another tuna and pickle sandwich and found a nice safe cheese one. “I hadn’t meant to miss dinner, just got distracted.”

Ron looked back at his Charms book like it had suddenly become the most interesting piece of literature ever written. “Malfoy again?” He asked quietly without glancing at her.

Hermione stopped chewing and looked at Ron hard, he had gone remarkably still and was trying very hard to sound casual. “No, just some schoolwork, the project for Arithmancy.”

“Look Hermione,” Ron started but Hermione interrupted.

“Ron, I don’t want to fight, please I’m tired.”

“Do you think that’s all I want to do is fight?” Ron looked at her now and his eyes flashed furiously for a moment. He took a deep breath and continued, “I just wanted to say that, well that…” He stopped again and looked back down at his book, “Harry and I, we don’t understand what you see in that ruddy git but well…” Ron swallowed hard, “Bill says that girls do very silly things and that we shouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Hermione found herself trying to decide whether she should be mad or irate. She stood up and set the rest of her sandwich down.

“Now Hermione, don’t take it like that!” Ron stood up and caught her arm, pulling her back. “Look, you know I’m not good at this, I should have kept Ginny up so that she could explain for me.”

Hermione sat back down and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“I just meant that, well, we might not understand what you see in that,” Ron paused when Hermione’s glare darkened, “in Malfoy, but we’re still your friends. It’s important that you know that. Through thick and thin, right?” He studied her face for a minute, unsure of what she was thinking.

Hermione sat stunned for a moment while Ron watched her fearfully. She stood up slowly and Ron stepped backwards, almost afraid that she might throw something at him. He was quite right in that thought, of course, as Hermione threw her arms around him and burst into tears.

“Hermione?” Ron asked anxiously as she pressed her wet face into his chest.

“You and Harry,” she said in a shaky voice, “are my best friends in the world. I love you two so much.” Her voice cracked and she sniffed.

Ron pat her back awkwardly, the tips of his ears beginning to turn red, “oh c’mon Hermione, it’s all right. We love you too.” He said hopefully trying to console her, but this only made Hermione cry harder. “Wait, he hasn’t done anything? Has he?”

Hermione looked up bleary-eyed at the obviously hopeful tone that Ron’s voice had taken.

“N...not that I want him to have done anything, of course. It’s just that, well, whenever Harry and I can go beat him up, just let us know, okay?” Ron added quickly.

Hermione laughed and let go of Ron who looked remarkably relieved to not have a crying girl wrapped around him. “I’ll let you know.” She said delicately.

“You know, he stood up for you, in Potions, to Snape.” Ron mumbled, obviously not happy to say anything positive about Malfoy.

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Yeah, he did.”



Hermione sat solemnly at their table in Charms and looked forlornly at the open page. They were learning binding charms today, and Hermione had been looking forward to them. But now that Professor Flitwick was happily moving in between tables correcting hand movements and pronunciation Hermione had found her interest quickly dwindling.

“No Harry, you’re doing it the wrong way,” Hermione stretched her hand across the table and seized Harry’s wrist and twisted it slightly down, “now try it again, but this time try to speak from deep in your chest. There you go, like that.”

Ron and Harry continued to work on the spell now that Hermione had helped them. She had studied the spell outside of class and had no problems binding the objects together that Professor Flitwick had handed out. He had even used her teddy bear with an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages perfectly centered in the middle of it as an example of a successful combination. Both Ron and Harry had complained about the destruction of such a good book.

No, Hermione had been disappointed when Draco hadn’t shown up to breakfast. She had been unsuccessful in finding anything that even remotely resembled a counter-curse. All she had found were pages upon pages of soul- searching. Draco was right, after a while, the self-righteous misery had gotten a little hard to swallow.

Hermione had hoped that perhaps Draco had had better luck than her after he had left. That was, of course, if he had even done anything at all. He had left so abruptly last night that Hermione hadn’t even a chance to ask what was bothering him, not that he would tell her. He was so caught up in himself that Hermione just wanted to throw something at him. She smiled slightly to herself because Hermione sometimes did throw things at him.

“Ms. Granger?”

Hermione jumped as the voice of Professor Flitwick broke through her thoughts.

“Professor?” She replied quickly.

“Since you had the spell mastered before you even came to class I was wondering if you would mind taking this to Professor Fig?”

Hermione nodded and scooped up the stack of books that Professor Flitwick had pointed too. Harry quickly opened the door for her. “We’ll take your books back to the dining hall with us if you don’t get back before class is over.”

“Thanks Harry,” she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

Most students were in class so Hermione was able to walk to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom fairly quickly. Professor Fig had started in the beginning of the year. She was almost as enjoyable a teacher as Professor Lupin had been. Sirius knew her pretty well, Harry thought they must have been friends back when they were in Hogwarts, but Sirius would never say for sure.

The door to the classroom was closed and Hermione, piled down with books kicked at it with her toe. There was a muffled reply and the door opened. Hermione walked in carefully and headed to the desk. She glanced around herself and realized that Professor Fig was in the middle of a class, a fifth-year Slytherin class.

“Professor Flitwick asked me to bring these to you Professor Fig,” Hermione muttered, wishing that she wasn’t attracting so much negative attention.

“Yes thank you Ms. Granger, I’ve been asking Professor Flitwick for these books all week. Mr. Malfoy, please go help her.” Professor Fig was on the far side of the classroom tightly holding a strange dark box, which seemed to be humming.

“Oh no, Professor I’ve got…” But Hermione stopped when she felt his hands on hers and then the weight of books was lifted. He turned away from her and set the books on the table. Draco looked back at her, his silvery eyes unreadable. The entire room seemed to be terribly interested in watching the two of them and Hermione gulped nervously.

“Well, goodbye Professor Fig,” she said quickly and fled the classroom.

She had only just reached the end of the hall when the door opened and there were footsteps hurrying to her. Draco swiftly approached carrying another book.

“Fig wants you to give this back to Flitwick, she already has a copy.” He said simply, a swatch of icily pale hair falling across one eye.

“Oh, all right.” Hermione said shyly taking the offered book.

Draco turned and walked back to the class leaving Hermione watching. He was being very distant and Hermione was beginning to feel oddly light- headed. He stopped though, several steps away.

“I found something,” he muttered.

“What?” Hermione asked not knowing what he was talking about right away.

“I found something, what are you deaf?”

“In the books? Wait,” Hermione stepped forward and caught his arm making him look at her, “you found a counter-curse?” The excitement in her voice was barely containable.

“I didn’t say that, I just said that I found something.” Draco’s voice was opaque and Hermione frowned.

“Well what did you find then?”

“Just meet me in the library later.” Draco pulled his arm away.

“What? I can’t wait that long! Tell me now!” Hermione snapped at him.

Draco turned back to her and pulled her close, his mouth descended upon her but he didn’t kiss her, he stopped right before and Hermione was surprised to find that she was leaning in to kiss him, and even more shocked when he pulled back.

“Don’t you know,” Draco gently pushed her away, “I like keeping you in suspense.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide and she stared in horrified shock at Draco. He smirked back at her.

“You….you…I can’t believe you!” Hermione spun around and stormed down the hall.

“I was only teasing,” Draco called merrily after her.





Hermione was pacing the room with quick, angry steps. She had been here an hour already. He loved making her wait. And that stunt earlier in the Defense Against the Dark arts corridor had left Hermione fuming for quite sometime. How dare he treat her like she was some sort Slytherin trollop?

Hermione picked a book off the table and jerked it open, ripping a page nearly in half. “Oh bugger!” She grumbled.

There was a click and the door began to open. Hermione glared darkly at the smirking face that appeared there. And for no real reason other than the fact that she found that sardonic look to be the most infuriating thing to have ever been seen, she threw the book at him. Draco hadn’t been expecting an attack and didn’t have time to dodge or even react. He was hit squarely in the face.

“Ow!” Draco cried out as he covered his wounded nose with his hands, “what was that for?”

“That was for, for, for earlier you egotistical, self-centered, womanizing git!” Hermione picked another book off the table.

“Put the book down! I was only teasing! Don’t get your knickers in an uproar. Doesn’t anyone ever joke in the Gryffindor tower? Or are you all too busy doing noble, saintly acts of community service?” Draco was rubbing his nose vigorously.

“Oh, did I hurt ‘ittle Draco’s nose?” Hermione snapped at him as she set the other book down.

“Yes you did! I might bruise.”

“Oh, I’m sure many hearts will be broken the Slytherin dungeon over it.” She replied snidely.

“I’m sure they will be.” Draco strode across the room and examined his reflection in a window pain.

“Well, what did you find then?” Hermione was beginning to feel much better now that she had vented her anger.

“And why on earth should I tell you anything?” Draco asked mutinously as he settled in the seat across from Hermione.

Hermione glared at him darkly and reached for a book.

“Ok, okay, no need to resort to violence.” Draco held up his hands asking for peace.

“So you found a counter-curse?”

“There are no counter-curses, how many times do I have to tell you that. The Avada Kedavra curse kills you, not much you can do once your dead.” Draco ran his hand through his hair, pushing back several wayward wisps.

“That’s it? That’s what you wanted to tell me?” Hermione seemed to swell angrily.

“No, I told you that I found something.”

“Well? You’re doing this just to torment me aren’t you?”

“Yes probably, you see, when you get really angry you clench your fists like you’re plotting to kill someone and I just find it delightful! Yes, just like that in fact.” Draco smiled and pointed at Hermione’s hands, which were curled up tightly in her lap.

“I really, really dislike you right now.”

“All right, no more games. I didn’t find a counter curse, but I found something else.” Draco took a book out of his bag and opened it to a marked page and handed it to Hermione.

“What is it? Is a patronus?” Hermione asked as she looked at the writing.

“You know how to make a patronus?” Draco wondered.

“Harry taught me, and Ron too.”

Potter and Weasley know how to conjure a patronus?” Draco said in a slightly awed voice.

“Well after our third year we all decided that we should know how to fend off a dementor. You know, that’s a very useful spell. And Harry…” Hermione looked up at Draco who had begun glowering at her.

“Enough about the Boy Who Lived to Annoy Me, we have more important things at hand.” Draco got up and came around the table so that he could look at the book at the same time. “See, this isn’t a counter-curse, it’s more of a shield made up of positive energy, which is why is reminds you of a patronus.”

Hermione looked, and felt lost. “What good would positive energy do?”

“Don’t you know how the killing curse works?” Draco asked surprised.

“No! Of course not. Do you?”

“Of course I do. Now don’t look at me like that, we’re all in agreement that my knowledge of the dark arts far outweighs your own. Basically, the killing curse works by channeling hate. When you cast the spell, every time that you have ever hated gets directed into one quick blast.” Draco paused and looked at Hermione, her face had gone a little gray.

“That’s all it is, hate?” Hermione asked and then closed her eyes; her head had begun to hurt.

Draco looked down at the book, “basically.”

“So that’s what he meant about his mother’s love.” Hermione whispered softly, her eyes filling with tears.

“Whose mother?”

“Harry’s mother. He told us that Dumbledore had said that his mother’s love had saved him, protected him. She died for him.” Hermione’s voice quavered and she turned her head and buried her face in Draco’s shoulder.

He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

Hermione drew back from him then and wiped her eyes, “sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s all right, I’m use to girls crying, although it’s usually over me and not on me.”

Hermione grinned through her tears at him. “Charming.”

“I try.”

“So this works like the patronus spell?” Hermione asked after she had finally managed to stop crying.

“Yes and no, it uses the same emotions that the patronus does, but you don’t have to think of them yourself which is good. But it’s only as strong as your happy emotions, so say if you were Longbottom, it wouldn’t work at all. You need to have strong emotions for it to be of any use. Remember, people hate all the time, but happiness is much rarer.”

“So pessimistic.”

“It’s the truth. The hate and anger far overshadow the happiness, so this spell could only protect you for a short period of time. Hopefully long enough to get away. And I think that he also intended to use it against the Cruciatus curse.” Draco added.

“What? But he didn’t create that one! Everyone knows that the Cruciatus curse was invented by Thorn Firoot back in the 13th century when her neighbor intentionally cut down her currant tree.” Hermione looked at Draco.

“I know that, but O’Leary is a goody-two-shoes, don’t forget. From what I read last night, this spell was actually intended to be the counter-curse for Cruciatus, but he modified it a bit after he invented the killing curse.” He had flipped back a few pages and pointed to another block of text that he had noted in green.

“Does it work?” She voiced the question breathlessly.

“I have no idea, I don’t think it says. I haven’t quite got the translation finished yet either.”

“It’s better than nothing though,” she told him. “It’s a lot better than nothing. It could change everything you know.”

“There’s only one thing left to do now,”

“Go to Headmaster Dumbledore.” Hermione said immediately without a second thought.

“Nope, we need to test it.” Draco replied with finality.

“What?”