Traces of Magic
All posts by paronson
I am December
Love Is The Darkest Art 34
Love Is The Darkest Art
A Dramione fanfic serial
Scene 55:
Hermione Granger was right. Time was wasting away, and she thirsted for every moment. In terms of her education, her thirst for knowledge was near insatiable. With all the restrictions Umbridge was placing, it wouldnt be long until all the ancient and valuable tomes were removed from Hogwarts library. She had to soak up as much as she could before it all was gone. She pushed through the doors of the library, instantly thinking of the last time she were here, under attack of a death eater who warned her, and Draco, to end their relationship or face consequences. This remembrance caused her to be on high alert, and as she moved through the room, her eyes were vigilant for activity around her. She knew how vulnerable she was against the dark powers of the Death Eaters and that was just one more reason to increase her magical studies.
Moving among the aisles and working her way deeper into the library, she smiled about the altercation with Draco in the Great Hall. It felt good to spar with him like that, to meet him on his own turf and terms. She had enjoyed the insults just a little too much. Am I turning evil, she briefly wondered. Is cruelty this exciting or fulfilling? Is that how it has been for Malfoy all these years? Of course, it had been fun for her to put Draco down verbally, but she truly couldnt imagine treating others that way. So why was it easy to do that to Draco? Because despite everything, the warnings, the threats, the overall danger of being with him was exciting. They were commanded to be forbidden to each other, and instead of obeying she found herself wanting to drown in it. After all, no one loved her like Draco. No one touched her like he had. No kisses swallowed her whole like his. She felt the tingling rush shudder through her frame thinking of their time in the astronomy tower. She longed to return there and await him, but he hadn’t given any indication of what he wanted since then. They had spoken of course, but they’d been careful not to arouse suspicion. Who knew what kind of spies lurked in Hogwarts halls?
As she found her way to the last aisle, she rounded the corner and looked up. She couldnt help but smile. There, right in the center of the aisle hanging from a height in line with the top of the bookshelves was the mistletoe she told Harry about. She’d known it was there as she had hung it herself. Of course, it was Draco’s charm that made it invisible to anyone over the age of eighteen. Sometimes she wondered where he found these cool spells and charms. This was a good one and had turned the library into makeout central it seemed, as standing directly below it were a pair of Hufflepuff students caught up in a kissing embrace as the mistletoe tradition required.
“Oops, sorry,” she exclaimed, turning a little red in the cheeks. The couple didn’t even stop to look at her. They didn’t care who saw them, it seemed. “Carry on,” Hermione whispered, wishing she and Draco could be more like that. Having secrets was fun and exciting, but sometimes she wished they could kiss right in public. To see the look on everyone’s faces. To know the thrill of being unafraid, safe in the arms of….
“Oh, hi Hermione.”
Thoughts interrupted, she turned to the voice. The couple had quit kissing and were now looking at her. Hermione’s jaw dropped in surprise. It was Ernie MacMillan and Susan Bones. She knew them well. Both were in DA with her. Dumbledore’s Army. But she never thought in her wildest imaginings that they were a couple. Is that how other students would see she and Draco if they knew? With complete astonishment? Would their jaws drop the way hers was doing right now?
“Ernie. Susan,” Hermione replied. “Um….what a surprise.”
Susan blushed. Ernie looked up at the mistletoe over their heads. “Oh, well, you know.”
Susan smiled, and Hermione thought this was more for her than just a holiday tradition. Like Hermione herself, she felt it was much more. “You should take the opportunity and bring Ron back here,” Susan suggested.
It took a moment to register, but then…Ron??? Oh my God, do they think I like Ronald Weasley? Does everyone think that? “No, no,no,” Hermione stammered. “He’s just a friend.”
“That’s what we are,” Ernie grinned, messing up Susan’s blonde hair. The Hufflepuff girl squealed and returned the favor, taking both her hands and ruffling Ernie’s perfectly styled locks. They were both giggling, and Hermione couldn’t help but laugh along. Maybe it would help them forget the insane notion of getting….
“So,” a voice said from behind her. She froze. “Hermione Granger wants to get Ron Weasley under the mistletoe. Oh my, the season does bring the surprises, doesn’t it?”
“Draco Malfoy,” she exhaled heavily. She turned to take in his malicious sneer. If she didn’t know better he looked especially cruel in this moment.
He glared at her. “I guess the next you know, a double wedding will be planned.” He turned his steely gaze on the Hufflepuff couple and began to sing in a kiddy voice, “Ernie and Susan, in the library, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.” He chuckled and sang louder. “First comes love, then comes marriage, why look there’s another Hufflepuff brat in a baby carriage…”
Ernie put Susan behind him, even though she was the one who came from a long line of powerful wizards. “Shut up, Malfoy,” he said.
Susan looked at Draco warily. She knew his cruelty and wanted none of it here. “Let’s go, Ernie.”
MacMillan straightened his back, trying to appear taller than he was. “We can’t leave Hermione.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Draco agreed. “Weasley is her king.”
“Shut up about Ron already,” she shouted, and slapped him across the face. His head reeled slightly. She’d hit him hard enough to leave a pink imprint of her palm. Oh crap, that was too hard, she thought.
Seeing the hard look in Draco’s eyes, Ernie’s courage broke. He grabbed Susan’s hand and pulled her away. The angry sneer on Draco’s face told Hermione the two had fled the library, leaving her to face Malfoy alone.
Draco put a hand to his reddened cheek. “That was a good one, Granger,” he said in a low voice. “I’m beginning to think you are taking too much pleasure in keeping secrets.”
“Draco, I’m….”
He grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her back. She stumbled and nearly fell, but he tightened his grip and kept her upright. “I’m getting sick of secrets,” he hissed. And kissed her.
His lips were desperate upon hers, and she surrendered to his rough touch, letting him pull her so close she could feel his chest nearly pounding against her own. One hand left her shoulder to cup her face in an open palm. Whereas she’d left a mark on his cheek, his left a maddening flush that made her want to touch him in places she probably shouldn’t. Oh how she wanted Draco.
Suddenly he lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. They stumbled into the book shelf and she threw her head back, allowing his delirious kisses to find her neck and throat. She opened her eyes. Through a dreamy haze she saw the mistletoe overhead. She smiled. He’d pushed her back to position her under the Christmas sprig. He wasn’t near as angry at her as she thought. In fact, he wasn’t mad at all. It was all part of the ruse to keep them safe. To hold their secret from those who would love nothing more than to destroy them. And while for days they had been doing well in throwing anyone off their suspicions, all their efforts collapsed with them against the book shelf.
Clutching his back tight in her hands, his own hands lovingly beneath her, supporting her on his hips, the kiss that had been held at bay for days overwhelmed her. Draco’s tongue played across her lips and into her mouth. She felt like devouring him whole, sucking at his tongue and playing hers across his teeth. If she could have spoken, her voice would have moaned softly, I love you Draco.
Love Is The Darkest Art 33
Love Is The Darkest Art
A Dramione fanfic serial
Scene 54:
Ron Weasley woke with a start. The nightmare had brought him awake so quick he nearly fell out of bed. He’d never dreamed of getting married before, and certainly not to Hermione Granger. Man, that would be horrible, he thought. Me and Hermione, what the hell? I mean she’s my friend, but she can be so irritating sometimes.
Part of him didn’t want to grasp the dream before it faded. He just wanted to let the images go far away from him as possible. But it had been so vivid, a wedding ceremony on the grounds of Hogwarts. Nearly everyone had been there with the strange exception of his brothers Fred and George. Harry was the best man and Luna Lovegood had been the maid of honor, which to Ron was a whole other nightmare unto itself. He couldn’t see how Hermione and Luna had ever become close friends. But stranger than that was the wedding guest at the back of the crowd on the Hogwarts lawn. Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin always had trouble blending in with the crowd, but here he truly stood out. While other boys looked happy, and the girls were in joyful tears, Draco looked….haunted. His eyes held an excruciating sadness that Ron had never seen before, as if he had been banished to a lifetime of loneliness. But what gotten Ron about this dream was the fact Draco was staring at Hermione, his unhappy eyes unable to look away. And when Ron looked at his almost bride she was looking back at Draco with equal sorrow. And crying. But all girls cry at weddings, Ron told himself. Especially the bride. So why had she released his hand and fought her way through the crowd toward our most hated enemy?
Ron shook his head, and would never know, because he’d jolted awake just as Hermione reached Draco, not to slap him, but to collapse into his open arms. Weasley never understood dreams. Stupid things they were. And so he pushed the thoughts away and went down to breakfast with everyone else. No one, not even Ron himself, realized the first people he tried to look for were a certain Gryffindor girl and Slytherin boy.
For Hermione, the Gryffindor girl in question, the night before hadn’t been full of nightmares, but pleasant dreams. In them, she and Draco had been making love everywhere it seemed. The library, the tower, the forest, and even in the midst of herbology class. She had awoke sweating and flustered, instantly glad dreams were private things your friends couldn’t see. For in the real world, her romance with Draco Malfoy was still secret, and as for lovemaking, it hadn’t progressed that far. They had made out plenty, sure, but never made love. Yet. She smiled at this thought as she passed the door of the astronomy tower on the way to breakfast. Sometimes i just want to run away and make love everyday too, Draco. But first, breakfast, she giggled. If anyone had seen her at that moment they would have thought her as weird as Luna Lovegood, as crazy as Mad eye Moody.
In the Great Hall, she sat down beside Ron and Harry. “Hi guys,” she said and belched. Harry nearly spat his oatmeal across the table. Ron looked at her as if she’d just declared herself two hundred months pregnant. Then both boys broke up laughing. Harry looked at Hermione.
“Well, looks like somebody is happy this morning,” he declared.
“I am,” she confessed.
“So give it,” Ron said. “You getting married or something?” Once he said it, he realized how stupid it sounded, but apparently his dream wouldn’t leave him alone.
“No,” she replied with a slight flush to her cheeks. “I’m spending the holidays skiing!”
Both boys frowned just a little. It was a little bit of a letdown after that glorious man sized belch. Harry recovered first and patted her on the back. “Well, that’s great. I’ve never been myself. The Dursleys would rather I just stay out of sight and under the stairs for Christmas.”
No one laughed for they knew it to be true. “I’m going to see if you can spend it at my house,” Ron suggested. “I think Ginny has asked mom if Cho Chang can stay over, too.”
Harry’s head whipped his head around so fast his glasses nearly flew off. “What??”
Ron laughed and slapped the tabletop with his hand. “Nah, I’m just kidding. Man, the look on your face was priceless!”
Hermione tried to hold her laughter in, but was having trouble. “That was a good one. But seriously Harry, if you haven’t noticed, someone placed mistletoe down the back aisle of the library. You should get Cho under there.”
Harry looked at her in astonishment. “Hermione!”
“Well, you should,” she said with a smile. “Time is nothing to waste, a kiss is everything to taste.”
“Oh my, where did you get that from??” Ron was astounded. “Never heard you spout poems before.”
“Just because I don’t say it, doesnt mean I don’t like them.”
The wheels started turning in Ron’s head. So, she likes poery, but never revealed it to her friends before. What if she likes a guy she’s never revealed to her friends before, too? Thinking of his dream, it became obvious it was no mere nightmare; it was a moment of divination.
And then, as if fate were to prove a point, Draco was standing right behind Hermione. “Heard about your Christmas plans, mudlood,” he sneered. “Surprised your parents can afford it as they send you to school every year in the same clothes.”
Hermione turned. “It’s called a school uniform, Fake-O,” she replied, sneering back. “I hear your mom and dad vacation alone because you’re so intolerable. I’m surprised they ever come back.” With a flip of her hair, she grinned wickedly, pleased with herself.
Draco didn’t appear pleased at all. “Oh ha-ha, funny. We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m opening presents and all you get is a sock with a hole in it.”
“Wow, brilliant. Sure can tell you’re a Malfoy. All socks have a hole in them. Right at the top.” She paused for effect. “You know, kind of like your head.”
“Ooh,” said Ron. “Good burn.”
Draco turned his angered gaze on Weasley. “Who asked you?”
Harry couldn’t help it. This was too good, seeing Hermione get the best of him. “Nobody asked you to eavesdrop either. And the way Pansy is looking over here, I’d say she certainly didn’t ask you.”
Draco turned his head to look at the Slytherin table. Not only was Pansy frowning, but so were both Greengrass girls. He scowled right back at them, and then resumed his verbal attack on the Gryffindors. Or at least he would have resumed if Hermione hadn’t slid her chair back suddenly, nearly knocking the breath out of him.
“Got to go,” she declared. “Time’s a wasting.” She cast her eye on Draco. “And not in a good way either.” She shoved her way past him before he could even respond, and waved at both Harry and Ron as she skipped down the row toward the exit.
Harry and Ron both looked at each other. “Got to love the new Granger,” Harry said with a grin.
“Yep,” agreed Ron, who looked at the verbally bested Draco. “Wouldn’t you say so, Malfoy?”
“As if I ever,” growled Draco. The apparently embarassed Slytherin stalked away in an exaggerated huff.
Ron watched him go, thinking maybe he’d been wrong. The dream was just a dream, nothing more. There was definitely no love between Hermione and Draco.
+++
For Draco Malfoy, that’s all there was between. He smiled to himself as he glided past his headmaster on his way to his seat. “Malfoy,” Severus said, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Draco stopped, as the tall man glared down at him. “You know nothing good will come of this,” Snape said, in a tone only Malfoy could hear.
“Come of what, sir?”
Snape wanted to laugh, but it came out like a sinister snort. “Your father would wish you’d focus as much on your studies, as you do on…her.”
Draco didn’t look at his headmaster. To look into the man’s eyes would acknowledge the truth. Severus didn’t seem to care though, for his message was clear. Stop chasing after a girl, and get back on track, for he was going to be needed in the days ahead…
Fighting social media addiction: What did I do before?
So what did we do before social media? Before those apps that keep us connected to friends and family? I’m old enough to remember a time before all this. When, if you were out running around, maybe doing a little shopping in an actual store, and you suddenly remembered something you wanted to ask your mom or best buddy, you had to pull over and find a payphone to call them. I can remember there was a phone booth at the corner store two blocks from my house, and if you wanted some privacy to talk that’s where you went. You didn’t have a cell phone, so you couldn’t just go anywhere and make your call.
Social media, if we can even use that term, was a completely different animal too. You want to share music with your friends? You went to their house or invited them to yours. Need to know what was going on in the world? You read the newspaper or watched the news on TV at a certain designated hour. Wow, who could imagine that inconvenience now? Having to WAIT for information.
As I’m going through my social media withdrawal, I’m thinking of these nostalgic things. And truly missing them. But do I miss them enough to want to go back to that technology deficient time? Probably not. After all, I’m typing this blog on my android phone. This morning’s news and weather was delivered to me via an app as well. That recipe for the breakfast casserole I just fixed? I googled it.
Technology definitely has its benefits, but I’m learning the side effects can hinder us in our relationship with others, though it’s intended to make us more connected. And so I have to ask myself, is it the technology I’m addicted to, or is it the instant interaction with others? Am I starving for conversation or am I just addicted to the action of checking my phone every few minutes? Perhaps we’ll delve into that another day. I think i just got a text…
Fighting social media addiction day 1
Here I am on day one of my latest experiment. To keep off social media until after the election. That’s only several weeks but I’m already feeling my addiction taunting me.
It’s only been a few hours since facebook, facebook messenger, instagram, and twitter were all removed from my phone and other devices. Already I find myself checking my phone for their notifications. It’s almost like a smoker going cold turkey. You still want it. And yet you can’t explain why. What good did it actually do you?
We tell ourselves that we need it. We can’t go without “checking in” and sharing every little aspect of our life. Oh look what I ate. Oh see what I found at the mall. Watch this cool cooking video on YouTube. You get my meaning, I’m sure.
I first got online in 1999 I think it was. The internet was very different then. Social media wasn’t even a term, much less an actual thing. Apps for phones weren’t much either, as the smartphone was yet to dominate. I think the first social website I used was myspace. Remember that, kids? Actually before that I used Yahoo groups to meet and communicate with others. I mention all this because I want to show I’m not new to social apps and sites. My addiction has taken hold for years, and so it’s harder to break.
When I quit smoking in the summer of 1999, I feel like I gave it up for something just as bad for me. I didn’t really lose my addiction, i just traded it in for a different one. Good job there, Paulie.
Love Is The Darkest Art 32
Love Is The Darkest Art
A Dramione fanfic serial
Scene 53:
The Astronomy Tower was the tallest at Hogwarts. Beginning at the ground floor not far from the entrance foyer, it rose upwards past every floor and into the night above the school’s gabled roofs. For Hermione, the most exciting times in the tower had been during midnight astronomy classes with Aurora Sinistra. The professor had shown her and other students the many constellations and stars that could only been seen from the top of the tower.
But she wasn’t thinking of those things as Draco’s lips touched her cheek, his warm breath exhaling his apology. Instead, she was thinking if they could just reach the parapet of the tower, she and Draco could step off and waltz across the stars to lie in the bed of clouds. And when his lips laid softly against her own, she could hardly feel the stairs under her feet as they slowly rose upward, winding around the staircase.
“Draco,” she managed to breathe, realizing he had swooped her up under the invisibility cloak and was now carrying her. His eyes met hers and she could see an overwhelming loneliness there, as if the last few days had been just as miserable for him as it had been for her. She had felt abandoned by him, but perhaps he had felt the same. Maybe the kiss she had given Ron was in innocence, but for him was like abandonment. A sign she was ougrowing his affections and wanted something more. And now, reunited with her dark love Draco, she did want more.
A sound coming down the stairs above them made them both stop. Draco set Hermione down, and pulled her close. “Shhh,” he whispered, and as if to guarantee her silence he kissed her passionately, opening his mouth against hers, their lips formed over each other perfectly, tongues touching in soft explorations.
Hermione heard the person on the stairs as they drew close. She couldn’t see who it was as her eyes were drowning in the depths of Draco’s own. And when her love playfully sucked at the tip of her tongue, she didn’t even see that, for her eyes closed and rolled up in her head beneath the eyelids.
When the person passed by wordlessly, oblivious to the invisible teenage couple, and descended the stairs, Draco finally released her. “Wow,” she whispered, while trying to catch her breath. “I think we need to have disagreements more often.”
“I agree. I just hope you don’t kiss another boy again. We can find other ways to argue if need be.”
Though it seemed he was making light of it, she could hear the fear of losing her in his voice as if she was looking for a way out.
“Are there other boys,” he asked, his voice quiet and shaking, as he took her by the hand and continued up the long narrow stairs. She didn’t answer him right away. In fact, it wasn’t until they reached the top of the tower that either of them said another word. Part of of it was because the climb robbed them both of even breaths, yet for Hermione it was also the glorious feeling of Draco’s hand holding hers that made her revel it in silence. But when they came onto the top landing, Draco broke the quiet and asked her again. “Is there anyone else?”
This time she smiled. “I am yours, Draco. If you cant see by now that I love you…”
“I want to see,” he interrupted her. “I want to trust and believe. I love you so much, Hermione. When you kissed Ron it destroyed me. I just crumbled. That’s how I love you.” Draco enveloped her in his arms. “I wish there was just you and me and no one else in the world. I wish we could run away and just make love everyday.”
Hermioned looked up in his face. “Make love?”
“Um, well…uh yes. I think about you all the time. And that, too. You know, sharing that kind of…oh forget it.”
Hermione put her hand on his chest to calm his nervous awkwardness. She could feel his racing heartbeat beneath his shirt. “Its okay, Draco. I want you that way, too. I’m just… scared. Things are changing very fast. Part of me wants to run, the other just wants your hands on me. I guess I shouldn’t say that.”
A shooting star, trailing blue and pink, lit up the sky, illuminating them in the tower’s heights. “Then I shouldnt say I have dreamed of your hands on me, too,” Draco admitted.
“And I shouldn’t say I want to feel you pressed against me.”
He didn’t smile, but his eyes were dancing. His lips parted, moist and inviting. “And I shouldn’t say I want your kisses to rain on me like heaven and all the…”
“No, you shouldn’t say it,” she agreed.
“Right.”
There was a moment that seemed like eternity. A silence. A hesitation. An unclaimed longing. Hermione’s heart sped to catch up to Draco’s. She could still feel his heart beating against her palm. To her it was like music, a seductive drumming she could feel in her whole frame.
“I shouldn’t say this but…”
Draco didn’t wait for her to finish, but kissed her passionately, deeply, without restraint. She fell into his hunger, his desire, and welcomed his mouth upon hers as if it were the last kiss in the universe.
She felt his hand on her waist. His other rested against her stomach. She wondered if he could feel the thousand butterflies that seemed to be fluttering there. She put her arms around his neck and pushed the invisibility cloak off, exposing them to the stars and nightime clouds. She couldn’t let her friends see them, but she welcomed the moon’s gaze upon she and Draco, as she laced her fingers behind his head and pulled him maddeningly close. So close that his breath was hers. His touch was her touch. She fell dreamingly into the thought that they could make love right here in the tower, their heads in the clouds far above Hogwarts, where they hadn’t been allowed to be themselves or do the things they’d longed to do.
His kiss moved from her mouth onto her neck and she tilted her head back. She closed her eyes, truly wishing they were far away where no one knew them. “I love you, Draco,” she whispered. Far above the clouds, and into forever, she thought.
Draco stopped kissing her long enough to murmur, “If love is the darkest art, I never want to step into the light without you again. I love you more than anything, Hermione. And I want you in every way that lovers crave.”
She looked into his face and saw his silver grey eyes held a trace of tears. She started to say something, perhaps to ask why he was crying, but he put his finger to her lips.
“Can we just bathe in these stars? Feel the waters everytime we kiss? There is time enough to make love someday, but tonight, as much as I want you like that, I want to know that you’ll love me forever more.”
“I will love you forever,” she whispered and gently urged him to kiss her again. The stars. The night. The clouds. The moon. All these things watched them and sighed. As did the Malfoy family owl perched in the rafters of the tower.
Love Is The Darkest Art 31
Love Is The Darkest Art
A Dramione fanfic serial
Scene 51:
Hermione stood still, frozen in the most pleasant of ways. She knew it had been Draco. Not only was it his familiar touch in her hair, but for a second she heard his breath exhaled in a long sigh. It was born of a certain wistfulness she too felt everytime she was in his presence. She wanted badly for him to materialize in front of her and take her in his arms as if everything over the past several days were forgotten. But she knew he couldn’t just throw off his invisibility cloak and expose himself. They had been warned. They couldn’t be seen together. The death eater had made that clear. If they didnt heed the message there would be steep consequences. And so all she could was stand there and let the invisible Draco breathe on her neck, “I’m sorry.”
She turned to Ron and Harry. Tears were welling up in her eyes. “I have to go. I don’t feel well.”
Ron frowned. It seemed like they never got to hang out with Hermione much anymore. “Again? Weren’t you sick the other…”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to go lay down.”
“Whatever,”Ron mumbled. If Hermione heard him she made no indication. Instead, she turned and began to walk away. Then she stopped and looked at Harry.
“I think you should kiss her. I know she was Cedric’s girl, but no one needs to feel that lost or alone. And Cho is very pretty.”
Harry looked almost irritated that everyone was trying to push him to that conclusion. “Ok, enough already,” he said. “I’ll get around to it. If you are obsessing about kissing so much, maybe you need to visit Viktor this Christmas.”
For the first time that day it seemed, she smiled. Not at the thought of Viktor Krum, but at the realization her secret affections for Draco were still safe. Neither Harry or Ron knew, and she wanted to keep it that way. They would never, under any circumstances, understand her burgeoning love for the enemy. “Maybe I’ll do that then,” she replied, leaving them with two notions: one being that she too sick to be up and about this evening, and two being she was still all about the Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker and national hero.
As she walked away from them, she heard a low whisper in her ear, “Krum? Whatever happened with Ron? Just how many boyfriends do you have?”
“Shut up,”she hissed back to the disembodied voice. Draco, under his cloak, snickered. Harry and Ron, who heard her last words, looked at each other.
“I didn’t say anything,” whined Ron. “You would think with all the teachers here at Hogwarts, someone could explain girls to us.”
Harry smirked. “Tell me about it.”
Scene 52:
Out in the corridor, Hermione tried to put distance between herself and The Great Hall. She didn’t know where she was going, even more so once Draco whispered, “See you soon,” and apparently left her. She could no longer catch his scent, feel his breath, or otherwise detect his presence. She was getting tired of him just abandoning her whenever he felt like it. One minute he is there with his sweet words and the next he’s gone. Irritating. What kind of boyfriend does that? And then, this thing with her kissing Ron. One minute he is so angry he won’t talk to her, and the next he is flirting like nothing ever happened. Does he just like confusing her? Making her feel good one day and then hurt the next? When he finally shows himself, she thought, I’m going to let him have it.
She rounded the corner, not really paying attention to anything other than the thoughts in her head, and almost toppled over Filius Flitwick. The Charms Master and Head of Ravenclaw. “Oh! Professor, I’m so sorry…”
The diminutive teacher smiled graciously, as if people nearly toppling over him was a regular thing. “‘Tis alright, my dear. It is fortunate as it is you , Miss Granger, that I was seeking.”
“Oh really? Did I not complete my last assignment?”
He chuckled. “Why yes, dear. You are always timely with your work.” He paused. “Wish I could say that about all my students. But no, I wanted to speak to you, as somoeone has suggested to me that you appear to be under a charm.”
“A charm? No, I’m…..who suggested that?”
“I’m not at liberty to say exactly, but they are students in your house…um, possibly in your room?”
That definitely narrowed it down. At first she thought Harry or Ron, but no boys were in her room. In fact, none were even allowed with in the girl’s dorm. So it had to be one of her female friends. Before she could dwell on it much, Flitwick spoke again.
“So I was wondering if you would allow me to examine you to see if in fact someone placed a charm on you. It will only take a minute. Even in my opinion, you do seem a bit distracted in class.”
At first, Hermione was upset at this notion, this intrusion on her character. But she realized if she refused that would draw even more suspicion. And what if someone really had charmed her without her knowledge? A charm could be anything. It could be to track her movements. To modify her behavior or affect her emotions. What if someone made her fall for Draco, and that her feelings truly weren’t her own? She hated this thought. In fact, she flat out denied it. I’m crazy about Draco. I’m in love with him. It is real. I know it is. “Of course, Professor. Go ahead.”
Flitwick produced his wand and touched it her forehead. She had to stoop a little to make this happen, but he seemed unfazed. Instead, his gaze was intent on the examination. He nodded his head, shook it back and forth, nodded again, and then removed the wand, stashing it back into his cloak. He looked up at her, but didn’t say a word for a few minutes.
“Well?”
“Um…well Miss Granger. Uh, you do appear charmed, but it is clearly of the natural variety. In other words, no wizard, or even student, has altered you through magical means.” He hesitated a minute when she sighed in relief. “However, if I may suggest, I would practice defense against charms if I were you. My exam has determined you would be susceptible to such magic.”
“Thank you, Professor. I will do that. And I’ll be more attentive in class from now on.”
“You are an excellent student, Granger. Top level. Do not lose your desire for knowledge.”
Flitwick moved on down the hall, leaving her to ponder his last statement. Knowledge. Desire. Lately, it seemed they were two different things, and perhaps once knowledge had filled all her waking thoughts, now her mind was dominated with thoughts of desire. For Draco.
Suddenly, a loud creaking sound split the silence in the hallway. She looked ahead of her and saw the door to the astronomy tower slowly opening on its hinges. Like an invitation, it called to her. Come. Come, let me show you the stars. Without fear or hesitation, she stepped forward and entered the darkness.
A winding staircase ascended the inside of the tower. Normally the astronomy tower was off limits except during classes, she found herself curious about what or whom had lured her here. She put her foot on the first step of the stairs and stopped. She could feel it. The very air around her changing. There was a quiet sound behind her like that of robes swishing towards her across the floor. Her breath caught in her throat, just as she felt something brush her skin on the next. It was like long fingers tracing a nail to her throat, then her chin. Butterflies seemed to hatch in her stomach as the nail touched her bottom lip. Then she was enveloped within the familiar cloak. She’d been under it before, dancing and kissing in the hallway, surrounded by students who couldn’t see her. And just as before, she knew even before his lips touched her ear and whispered, “I have missed you,” that she was home. At last. In Draco’s arms.
Wicked Hogwarts: Ch. 1
Being a fanfic mashup of Harry Potter & Wicked.
Prologue:
The last thing she remembers is water. Lots of it. On her face, cascading down her long black dress and nearly burning the hue of her skin. That bitch of a child has splashed her. Of all the gall. And all over a broom. She hadnt been particularly satisfied with it lately, but to be honest, she hadn’t been happy with anything in recent years. Still, to be splashed in the face because some teenage wench wanted her broom.
No one will ever take my broom again, she thinks, as darkness overtakes her and she dissolves into the floor. She feels herself coming apart, seperating, melting, and she wonders if this is death or whether the child had mastered her own set of curses. Or maybe it’s that damned wizard. He had sent the girl after the broom, Elphaba reasoned. He always lacked the courage to face her himself, the charlatan. But these thoughts do not matter now for she is dying. Ding! Dong! The witch is dead. And then there is nothing. Absolute darkness. Complete silence. In the merry old land of Oz, the wicked witch of the west is no more.
Chapter 1: Elphaba Awakes
Elphaba awakes. Her dark eyes seek the light again. Am I not water, she ponders. Am I not nothingness. Dead. Dispatched. Deceased. Am I in the halls of what comes after death? It’s a castle to be sure. But not her castle. It’s too quiet. No winkie guards. No chattering monkeys. Just an empty hall. There are signs interspersed on the walls though. Declarations of some kind. Rules and edicts. She notices they haven’t been signed by the wizard. Instead they bear the mark of someone called The High Inquisitor. She imagines the title is something similar to “The Great and Powerful” that buffoon of a wizard used back in the emerald city.
She pulls her long cape about her and adjusts the black pointed hat on her head. Just what she needs. Another lunatic wizard. Standing in the middle of the hall she wonders if perhaps she’s dreaming. Maybe the little miss with the water bucket just subdued her and the Wizard’s technicians are now experimenting with her head. Giving her a mental rearranging to keep her in line.
“I wouldn’t stand there if I were you,” a voice says from above her. Startled, she looks up to see a transparent man with a nearly decapitated head floating there.
“What did you say?”
He clears his throat and pulls at his moustache so he can be heard more clearly. “I said, Professor, you shouldn’t be standing there where you are.”
“And why is that?” Elphaba asked.
He gave a little know-it-all chuckle. “Because classes are getting ready to let out…right about…um…now.”
Suddenly, all the doors in the hall are thrown open, and out spills forth the most horrible, terrifying thing she can imagine. She nearly screams in her fright, as the vermin scurry out and around her, scattering in all directions, chittering away madly so much it makes her head hurt. Children. Oh how she loathes them. This must be what the religious leaders back in Oz called hell, or at the very least, purgatory.
A woman walks out of a classroom, ushering some of these kids along. “Now, now, on to your next class, students,” she says.
Class? Students? I’m in a school? The last time she’d be in school was the university in Shiz. And that’s one experience she doesn’t care to repeat. Some of her classmates had been so mean. Others had been tolerable, but still uncomfortable at times.
The woman, who is dressed in a long colorful shift with a tall pointed hat not unlike her own, sees Elphaba. She stops a moment, perhaps startled by her emerald green skin, but then smiles graciously and comes towards her.
“Good morning,” she greets. “I am Professor McGonagall. You must be the visiting professor that Dumbledore told us about. I am so honored to meet a wizard of your experience and stature. I hope we can learn much from you in your time here.”
The green witch, draped all in black, tries hard to muster a smile, but it feels like her face will crack in doing so. “I’m no wizard, I’m a witch, and I have not met a Dimbledore as of yet.”
“Dumbledore,” Minerva gently corrects. “I can have one of our students take you to his office, if you wish.”
“Yes,” Elphaba curtsies, though she doubts this is the proper thing to do. “Perhaps that would be best. I’m a little confused about why I am here.”
“As I am, as well,” Professor McGonagall. “It is awful late in the year for a new teacher. What is your speciality, dear?”
“I piss people off,” Elphaba says, half in jest while knowing it’s also true.
The Professor laughs so hard her hat nearly tumbles off her head. Some of the students have stopped and are staring. “No doubt. I look forward to that.” She turns and looks at a small grouping of students who have just emerged from class. “Miss Granger,” she calls to one of them.
A girl with brown mousey hair breaks away from the group and comes over. “Yes, Professor,” the girl chirps happily, seemingly eager to please.
“Would you be so kind as to show Professor….” Minerva hesitates. She doesn’t know the name of the witch, she realizes.
“Elphaba,” the visitor replies.
“Professor Elphaba,” the girl replies, smiling so brightly that Elphaba doesn’t know whether to smile back or get sick to the stomach.
“Yes, I should have known that,” McGonagall says, trying to save face that she didn’t know the new faculty’s name. “Elphaba. From…?”
“The Vinkus,” she replies proudly, but after seeing the confused looks on both Professor and student, adds, “You know, Winkie Country.”
“I see,” McGonagall replies, but Elphaba knows she doesn’t see at all. What is going on here? With all the political upheaval going on in Munchkinland and on the Vinkus border, there’s no way they can not have heard of it.
“I was born in Gilliken however. Attended the University at Shiz.”
“Ah, Dear Old Shiz,” the older professor says, to which Elphaba brightens.
“Oh, you do know it?”
“Not personally, but I have heard it mentioned on occasion. Dumbledore has been there, I heard tell.” She looks at the waiting student. “Miss Granger, would you please show Miss Elphaba to Albus’ office?”
Hermione looks at her strangely. “Um, Professor, remember he is gone from Hogwarts for the time being.”
“Oh, that’s right, how silly of me. Well, in that case, I guess she’ll have to see, um.. Umbridge, since Dolores is High Inquisitor now.” She scowls. “And since she is removing teachers right and left, I can only assume she will choose who you are replacing, or working alongside, during your visit. I assume you are here as an intern?”
“I assume, ” Elphaba says flatly.
“Well, at any rate, on behalf of the faculty, welcome to Hogwarts. I am sure you will be a valuable asset to our school.”
“Thank you. It is a pleasant surprise to be here.” She doesn’t say anything about what the alternative is. Here or Purgatory doesn’t offer a very big menu of options.
To be continued? ….
Love Is The Darkest Art 30
Love Is The Darkest Art
A Dramione fanfic serial
Scene 49:
Draco Malfoy awoke as if coming out of a long, deep sleep. His grey eyes fluttered open to be looking into the face of a girl with long blonde hair and eyes that seemed nearly haunted as his own. “Daphne? Daphne Greengrass?”
The girl smirked. Another fifth year Slytherin, Daphne was friends with Pansy Parkinson, one of her pureblood girl gang. “Welcome back, Draco. Boy, do you have some explaining to do?”
Shaking the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around the Slytherin common room. Luckily for him, no one else was there except for he, Daphne, and another girl several years younger than them both. “How did I get here?”
“We carried you,” Daphne explained. “Fortunate for us you are much lighter than some of your friends.”
“And we levitated you part of the way,” the other girl added. Draco couldn’t recall if he’d met her before. She had dark hair, dark eyes, and was wearing Slytherin colors.
“Do I know you?”
“This is my sister Astoria,” Daphne explained. “She’s third year. We found you in the floor of the library. In the dark.”
“With a girl on top of you,” Astoria added with a snide tone to her voice. If she were someone he knew, say like Pansy Parkinson, the tone would have been considered jealousy.
“Hermione Granger,” Daphne snickered. “Now that’s embarassing.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “We rolled her off you and left her there.”
“She made a thud,” Astoria said matter-of-factly.
“Was she…alive?”
“Of course she was. Did you think you killed her?”
“No, no. We were attacked. She was in the library. And um, so was I.”
They both looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Not together or anything.”
“Oh,” replied Daphne. “Good. For a moment we thought…”
“No, no, no,” Draco grunted, holding his head. He glanced around the room. “Where is everyone?”
“In the great hall. Umbridge called a meeting of students.”
He frowned. “What for?”
“I heard it was something about banning student gatherings. You know like clubs and stuff like that. We were on the way there when Astoria remembered a book she wanted to check out. Good thing for you. If anyone else would have seen you, they would have thought the wrong thing. But I know there’s no way you would have been hanging out with Granger.”
“No way,” echoed Astoria. “She’s poop.”
Draco laughed. Anything less and it would truly look suspicious. “Yeah, and that hair…”
The sisters laughed at this too, but then a look of concern crossed Daphne’s face. “Who attacked you?”
“I don’t know,” He lied. “I was too busy trying to aggravate the mudblood. Got me from behind with a sleep charm or something.”
“Should we report it?”
“No, I’m going to get this one. No one charms a Malfoy.”
“Except Granger,” Astoria giggled, to which Draco shot her a baleful look.
God, how I hate this girl, he thought. Good thing that about the time I graduate she’ll still be stuck in school and I won’t have to look at her nauseating face every day.
“Funny, ha-ha,” he replied sarcastically, dismissing her. Then he looked at Daphne. “Have you reported that you found me?”
“No,” she said. “Whatever happened is secret and safe with me. With us. We havent seen you. Hope that helps you catch the guy.”
“Yes, helps a lot. Thanks.” He slowly got to his feet, his head still spinning. “Well, we better get to that meeting, shouldn’t we?”
Scene 50:
Hermione sat in the great hall, listening to Dolores Umbridge issuing her amended educational decrees. Her head was still groggy, but she wondered what all this would mean for the future of Dumbledore’s army. Umbridge screwed up everything so much, she wondered if she were in the employ of Voldemort, that perhaps she was the dark lord’s way into the school. He had tried other ways before. Was this just another way to get to Harry and all those on the side of peace and good? And what was with all the attacks on her her lately? I’m no one important, she thought. Not like Harry anyway. Was she just another pawn in this escalating war? A means to get to Potter, or perhaps something not quite as sinister. What had Draco said in the library? Something about Lucius being the one who sent the death eater? How would he have known that anyway? She looked around the room at the various pockets of Slytherins. Draco wasn’t here. Where had he fled to? He just left her laying there in the library to wake up alone. Whatever happened to I’ll protect you forever?
“Well that was pretty redundant,” Ron Weasley whispered next to her as Umbridge dismissed the assembly a few minutes later. “She’d already banned the clubs. Which is why we started…”
“Hush Ron,” Hermione quickly said. “We’re in public. The only thing started is your mouth.”
“Whoa, hey, what did i do? Jeez, Granger…”
“I’m sorry Ron. I’m a little on edge here.”
“Why,” asked Harry, who had been seated beside Ron.
“I dont know,” she replied. “I feel like something big is going to happen.”
“Yeah it will,” Ron replied with a smirk. “If only Harry here works up the nerve to kiss Cho before he turns forty.”
“Shut up, Ron,” Harry muttered.
Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. “Well, I think you should. The opportunity for a good long kiss is a terrible thing to waste.”
Now both boys looked at her, mouths open enough to let houseflies in.
“I mean, that’s what I’ve heard,” she quickly added.
She didn’t see if they ever closed their slack jaws, because at the moment she saw Draco close to the entrance of the hall. With two girls. One had hair almost the same color as Draco’s. She could almost have been his sister. Or soulmate. The other girl was younger with jet black hair, and even from this distance Hermione could see her doe eyed look turned upward to Malfoy. She knew who these girls were of course. They were the Greengrass sisters. Purebloods of famed ancestry. Their family was nearly as self important as the Malfoys. Hermione scowled. Draco had given her a fit for cheek kissing Ron, and here he was just an hour or two after she had fought for her life, cozying up to two bitches….
“Hey Hermione, you okay?”
She swirled to the voice. It was Ron Weasley. For a moment she had a mad, fleeting thought of kissing him on the mouth. No, she told herself. I’ll never do that. No matter how angry or happy I am.
“Yes I’m fine,” she said. She looked away from him and back towards where Draco and his floozies had been. Except Draco wasn’t there anymore. The Greengrass girls looked bewildered too, trying to figure out where he’d gone. She began to look around the room, standing on tiptoe to look over heads taller than she.
“Who you looking for?”
At first she thought it was Potter. But in her heart, as upset as she was, she knew it was Draco, breezing by her in his invisibility cloak, running his long fingers through her hair.
Paul Writes 