Home
Chapter 31 - Sightless Letters
Harry and Ron went off to the Astronomy Tower for class while Ginny went to Charms. Hermione didn’t have class for another half an hour.
“I’m off to Transfiguration,” Malfoy mumbled as he stepped out of his bedroom, his silver and green tie lying loosely around his neck. She smiled and walked up to him, tying his tie gently. He smiled down at her as she did so.
“Don’t you look handsome?” she asked with a giggle.
“Just irresistible… I can’t help it,” Draco shrugged and Hermione giggled. She took a firm grasp on the tie and pulled him down into a sweet, lingering kiss. “How’s your head?” he asked and gently ran his fingers across the white bandage. She sighed.
“It’s a bit sore, but nothing you wouldn’t expect from toppling down a flight of stairs,” she shrugged. He laughed and gave her an extra hard squeeze. Then he reached into his robes and pulled out a manila envelope.
“An owl delivered this to my window this morning… it’s addressed to you. I knew you, Potty and his pet Weasels were all bonding…
“Malfoy!”
“Sorry… that Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all here so I held onto it. Don’t worry… I know not to open your mail anymore,” he laughed and handed the envelope to Hermione. She smirked and gave him a peck on the lips before he left for class.
She looked at the envelope and didn’t recognize the handwriting that had her name scrawled messily. She sighed and opened it up quietly.
She pulled out the folded paper and began to read.
Hermione (I hope I spelled that right),
It’s Billy from St. Mungo’s. Remember me? You told me to keep in touch so I figured it’d be best if I sent the first letter. I mean you don’t exactly know where I live. Anyways, how are you? How are you feeling? Fallen down any staircases lately?
Sorry if my sense of humor offends you.
Nathan came out of treatment looking better than he has in weeks. It’s so great to see him this way. I really think that there’s a high chance he’ll recover. According to the Healers all signs are pointing to that the cancer is dead. You don’t know how relieved that makes me. If they can help my brother, who says they still can’t help you?
I know that you don’t want to hear this, but I mean maybe there’s something that the Healers haven’t thought of, or they have thought of and haven’t risked it. I mean you can’t just give up so willingly!
I’ll stop talking about that depressing subject. How is Ginny? I still feel really guilty about breaking up with her. Maybe she’ll even consider taking me back. If Nathan gets well I hope to continue seeing her. She was really something special to me.
Have you found anyone special? If these really are your last two weeks then you should try to find that one person and hold onto them with all your might. Don’t let anything get in the way of the way your heart feels. I did that and I’ve never regretted anything more in my entire life. Then again, I am only sixteen.
I’ve always wanted to try Quidditch. I think it’d be bloody incredible to soar about on a broom for hours on end, playing sports, using your actual brain for strategic skills, and so on and so forth. Do you enjoy Quidditch? Of course you do! It’s the best bloody sport in the world, and I’m just a muggle!
By the way, you aren’t one of those types who hate all Muggles and everyone who has muggle parents, now are you?
I don’t think you are. You seem too nice to be one of those god-awful characters.
I suppose I should stop boring you now. It’s just I can’t believe that the chances of Nathan’s survival have tripled! I’m just so happy. Everything would be perfect if you could get well too. I’ll stop bringing up bad topics.
I hope you write soon.
Your hopeful friend,
Billy Harris
Hermione smiled down at the letter and sighed. She pulled out a parchment and quill, dipping the tip in the ink before she began to write.
Billy,
This is Hermione. Yes you did spell my name correctly, and I thank you for writing to me.
It’s such great news that Nathan is better. And no, for your information, I have NOT fallen down any staircases lately. I’ve only tripped over my own feet lately, thank you very much.
Ginny is doing very well. I hope this doesn’t hurt, but she seems to have moved on. After you broke up with her you couldn’t have expected her to wait for you to come around. I wish that you had just told her the truth instead of trying to protect you and her from the pain involved. There will always be the same amount of pain, but how it is distributed is up to you. I hate to say this, but I doubt that there will be anything between you two again. I don’t want to be mean, just honest.
I have found someone special, actually. Well, I think he’s special. Things are really confusing between he and I. He isn’t my boyfriend and we aren’t dating, but still I think I might love him. He was cruel to me for six years straight and now for some reason I can’t stop thinking about him. I really care about him. The hard part is that we can’t tell a soul about us because no one would approve. It’s hard to keep it a secret.
I do enjoy watching the game, but only when it’s my house playing. Mostly because my best friends are captain/seeker of the house team, keeper, and a chaser. Also the boy that I’m technically not seeing is a Seeker for one of the other House Teams. By the way, it would be most appreciated if you didn’t mention this boy to anyone. As I said, it’s direly important that it remains a secret.
Also, I really don’t enjoy flying very much. Actually I’m quite frightened of it.
No, I’m not one of those types who discriminate against mixed blood witches and wizards. In fact, I’m a muggle-born; or a “mudblood” in vulgar terms.
You didn’t bore me in the least. I’m so happy that Nathan will be getting better. I hope you write back soon and keep me updated on everything that is happening. It’s nice hearing about someone with a condition similar to mine getting better.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
She read over the letter approvingly. She tucked it into her pocket as she looked at her watch, realizing she was about to be late for class. She swore that she’d send it as soon as it was over.
With that she picked up her books and ran from the room and through the portrait, not paying attention to where she was going as she quickened her pace and strapped her pack shut.
She ran head-on into a body, stumbling backwards and falling on the floor. By the loud thump from the other person, she assumed that they too had fallen backwards.
“Oh I’m so sorry!” Hermione exclaimed and stood quickly. The young woman she had bumped into was lying on the floor, her eyes closed. She obviously did not attend the school. She wore long jogging pants and a white sweatshirt. She was tall and thin, cinnamon colored hair falling thick and messily about her shoulders.
She was a very pretty girl.
She sat up, keeping her eyes closed at first. She rubbed her head and mumbled something. Hermione helped the girl stand up.
She was a very tall girl, nearly the same height as Harry.
She knelt down to the floor and picked a cane up. Hermione had not seen that before. She held it out and slid it across the ground and the end came into contact with Hermione’s foot.
The girl opened her eyes slowly and Hermione cried out in shock and horror.
The girl had no pigments in her eyes. No pupils were there. Her eyes were simply unflawed and milky, no other color at all. They were just pure voids of white. She did not look directly at Hermione, yet right by her.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Harry Potter.”
Chapter 32 - The Things I See
Harry was returning with Ron to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was still a bit awkward after sobbing with Hermione from the aftershock of a nightmare, but he tried to act as collected as possible. He was nervous that Ron would pick a fight with him and his power would just explode from him. He was nervous he would do something wrong. He was nervous that something bad was going to happen.
“Pumpernickel,” Harry stated to the Fat Lady, who bowed and moved aside for the two of them to climb in. They were discussing their latest win against Hufflepuff in Quidditch. With a smile they laughed and walked into the Common Room, not expecting visitors.
“And remember the save I made when we were down by 10 points? Bloody hell, Harry, if I play that good against Ravenclaw then we’ll be a shoe-in for the finals!” Ron exclaimed gleefully.
“Harry? Harry Potter?” a light and sweet voice drifted over to them. They looked at the couch. A young girl sat there, wearing sweats. Cinnamon hair fell delicately in front of her face. She was a very beautiful girl, though Harry didn’t understand why she didn’t open her eyes.
“Erm… that’s me,” Harry mumbled. The girl nodded with a bright smile that seemed to light up the room.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Tell your friend to join us,” she said and motioned for them. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged with raised eyebrows. They walked over and sat at the couch directly across from them. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. Your friend Hermione Granger let me in and told me to wait for you here,” she said, her hands folded in her lap.
Her eyes were still closed, and it was making Harry uncomfortable.
“Who are you?” Ron asked. The girl titled her head slightly towards Ron, though she still did not face him. Why wouldn’t she just open her eyes?
“My name is Amora Vinnopal,” she answered. “Though please refrain from calling me Amora. I’d prefer it if you called me Amy,” she told them with her sweet smile. Harry felt something flop about in his stomach. It felt nice.
“The name’s Ron Weasley,” Ron said and reached out towards her, his hand in position for her to grasp and shake. She did not reach out to take it and did not acknowledge its presence, so he awkwardly withdrew it.
“Do you happen to have a sister?” she asked.
“Yes… do you know her?”
“No, sorry,” she said with a shrug. Ron’s mouth opened for a moment, but he shut it before looking at Harry and shrugging. The girl was quiet for a minute, the silence making Ron and Harry even more awkward. Neville all of a sudden walked through the door, looked at the three of them and furrowed his eyebrows, and headed up to the boy’s dormitory.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t wish for anyone else to hear this. I’m sure Harry would like to keep it as discrete as possible,” she giggled.
“You knew Neville was coming?” Harry asked in surprise. The girl nodded, the smile wide on her face. It still looked so strange that her eyes were shut. He had the urge to pry them open.
“Yes. He’s been spending much too much time handling magical fertilizers,” she whispered seriously. Ron couldn’t help but laugh. Harry smiled at this and ran a hand through his hair. The girl titled her head to the side and stretched.
“So, why are you here?” Harry asked, leaning in a bit. The girl licked her dry lips and seemed to think about what she was going to say. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, thinking some more.
“Harry, do you have any idea the power you possess?” she asked in a whisper. Harry drew back a little. What was she talking about?
“What?” Ron asked for him. The girl sighed and then raised her hand. She waved it delicately around him. Her face was serene, calm, and impassive. Harry watched in fascination.
“I can feel it. I don’t know how you can’t, but I can. It’s like I’m standing in a freezing windstorm, but two suns are throbbing so close its singing the hairs on my face. Here,” she said, pointing to the scar on his head.
“Are you off your rocker?” Ron laughed. The girl was impassive still, and she lowered her hand and placed it gently on Harry’s chest.
“But even more here,” she finished before drawing back and sitting firmly in her seat. She waited for their responses.
“Are you some sort of Seer or something?” Harry mumbled. The girl laughed and ran her fingers through her bangs, tucking them behind her ear. Harry felt his own fingers tingle and he could almost feel the silky hair between them. He didn’t know how such a small gesture could stir so much inside of him.
“No, not at all. I cannot predict the future, see the past, or say other obvious nonsensical things, as you seem to think all predictions. You should have more of an open mind, Ron.”
“Me? I thought you were talking to Harry!” Ron exclaimed. She titled her head slightly so she faced Ron, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut.
“No. Harry is open-minded. Apparently predictions have come true for him before, so he believes. You, however, have no belief in it at all,” Amy told him. “There are powers and things that even you are not aware of… especially inside yourself.” Ron turned crimson at this statement and Harry smiled.
She turned and almost faced Harry again, though she had missed by a few inches.
“So… why are you here?” Harry asked. She paused for a moment.
“To help you,” she replied. “To help both of you. To help all of you.”
“How?”
“You’re all like fizzy drinks. Potential is bubbling up inside of you, waiting for the right person to flip the cap and let out your exceptional quality. Ron, you are like that fizzy drink. Harry…” she paused for a moment.
“What?” he asked, his palms sweating nervously.
“You are like a shaken up soda pop. You’re on the verge of exploding. I’m the one who is going to help you release all that energy… without letting anyone get hurt. It’s what you’re afraid of I see that. I see that you’re so terrified of your own capabilities that you don’t even want to pick up your wand.”
Harry stared at her, anger boiling up inside of his stomach.
“How can you see that I’m afraid? You won’t even open your eyes to look at me!” He shouted at her.
“I’m keeping my eyes closed so you won’t be afraid.”
“If I’m so afraid of myself, then I shouldn’t be afraid of you! Look at me!” Harry shouted at her, guilt filling him for exploding at her like that. She had hit a sensitive nerve. The girl knelt down and picked up a cane off the floor, which she had slipped under the couch. Harry stared at it in shock as she held it, and he realized she was blind.
He was in more shock when she opened her eyes. Ron let out a scream of terror when he saw what lay beneath those lids.
Pure white balls, orbs, or gleaming spheres were in her eye sockets. They were radiant, purer white than freshly fallen snow. Harry thought that if he stuck his finger into the white it would just keep going, as if she had no eyes but just white… white nothing.
She did not look at them, but looked straight past them. There was no anger, hurt, or jealousy in her serene face. She opened her mouth and spoke with her angelic voice before turning and leaving the Common Room.
“I was born a freak, just like you. I can’t look at you, Harry. I may be blind, but you’d be astonished at the things I see.”
Chapter 33 - The Urban Legend
Draco didn’t see Hermione until after dinner that day. He had been returning to the Head Common Room, thinking about her. He thought about the feel of her lips, the touch of her skin, and the smell of her hair. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him and he loved the happiness in her smile.
He couldn’t wait to see her again. He couldn’t wait to wrap her safely in his arms. He knew that he promised to never let her go, and in a way he didn’t. She was still safe in his heart.
What had become of him? He used to be Draco Malfoy, the most feared and hated boy in all of Hogwarts. People shivered at the sound of his name. He was the one boy who was sure to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Death Eater.
He had his chance and he had been afraid. He had backed away at the direst moment in his life. Was Ron right? Would he run away from Hermione when she needed him most?
Then again running away from Voldemort was not something that he regretted. Ever considering becoming one of his followers… joining his demented cult… was what he regretted. The thought of hurting Hermione was what he regretted.
How had he gone the past six years not seeing how beautiful she was? How had her strength gone unnoticed to him?
“Hello, Sir Bentley,” Draco said with a thoughtful smile. The character in the portrait eyed him suspiciously.
“Hello, young Mr. Malfoy. I hate to be blunt, but I really do not understand you,” he mused, furrowing his painted eyebrows. Malfoy smiled at this and laughed. It was something sweet and rich, the old cold sneer seemingly forgotten.
“I’m at the point where I don’t even understand myself. Charlatan… and I do mean the password,” Draco said with a wink and Sir Bentley laughed before he swung open, letting him inside.
He saw Hermione on the couch, countless books spread around her.
“Granger?” he asked. She looked up at him for a moment, acknowledged his existence, and turned back to her research. He walked over behind the couch. He leaned over and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them firmly.
“I can’t find anything about her ANYWHERE!” Hermione groaned and slammed a particularly thick book down on the coffee table. Draco noticed how the wood was lighter where it had been repaired after Harry’s burst of power.
“About who?” he asked, bending over and nuzzling her neck, pressing his lips sweetly against her skin.
“As good as that feels, Malfoy, I’m really not in the mood,” she said and stood, leaving Draco heated and confused. She paced the room, her eyebrows kneaded in thought. The bandage was removed from the back of her head. He really thought that she should eat something, but said nothing.
“What’s troubling you?” he asked and hopped over the back of the couch, stretching out on the soft cushions. He cracked his ankles and yawned, making himself comfortable. She looked at him, motioned towards the books, threw her arms in the air, and let out a sigh of exasperation.
“There’s this girl I met. Her name is Amora Vinnopal and she has these eyes… she’s blind, you know. There is no coloring at ALL. I’m talking that she has no pupils, pigment, nothing! She was looking for Harry. I wanted to ask why. She doesn’t attend Hogwarts and she made me nervous. She told me that Professor Dumbledore sent for her, showed me a note and the password to the Gryffindor Common Room, and so I led her there. I left her… if I hadn’t I would have been late for class. But I mean a girl like her… one that a Professor sent for… and there’s no record of her anywhere!” Hermione exclaimed and slammed her hands down on the coffee table in frustration.
Draco was smiling triumphantly.
“You’re telling me you don’t know who Amora Vinnopal is? Hermione, she’s like an urban legend! A true one, apparently…” Draco said, stroking his chin. Hermione turned to him, smiling.
“You’ve heard of her? In the name of Merlin, tell me everything you know!” she demanded.
“No.”
“No? Why not?” Hermione asked looking put out.
“Because you hurt my feelings when you wouldn’t let me kiss you. I was just trying to say hello,” Malfoy laughed and wiped a pretend tear from his eye. Hermione rolled her chocolate brown eyes and pulled him towards her for a quick and rough kiss.
“There, now tell me EVERYTHING!”
“That wasn’t a kiss,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. He reached out and snaked his arms around her waist, drawing her in close. Her body excited him, lit a fire in his stomach that he never wanted to be extinguished.
He pressed his lips fully against hers and felt her melt against him. At first she resisted ever so slightly, but she gave in and let herself succumb to the artful dance of his lips. He kissed her until he felt she didn’t want to stop, and he pulled away.
She stood there, lips still puckered and eyes still closed, for just a moment longer. When she opened her eyes she glared at him, as if blaming him for ending the excitement.
“Are you going to tell me about Amora Vinnopal or not?” she demanded, though he could still see a spark in her eyes from their intimate moment. He couldn’t help but enjoy the thought that he had made her feel that way. He had made her want him just as he wanted her.
He smiled and sat back down on the couch, motioning for her to sit next to him. She sat down at his side, looking at him with expectant and wide eyes.
“It’s time I tell you a story, I suppose,” Malfoy laughed. “It’s said that Amora was born in the mid 1600’s…”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Hermione exclaimed. “That’d make her over four hundred years old!” she cried. Draco sighed.
“Now you understand why she’s an urban legend. The legend is very rare, but it is told most often among the most powerful wizards. You see it is their dream for Amora to come to them… I should just continue,” he laughed.
Hermione nodded eagerly, already entranced by the story.
“As I said, she’s somewhat of an urban legend. She was born in the mid-1600. She was a normal muggle. She had no exceptional abilities at all, whatsoever. That is, except for her eyes. There was nothing mythical about them, of course. It was just a birth defect. But remember, this was in the 1600’s when witch burnings were most popular. The fact that she was born in Salem wasn’t exactly a good thing either.”
“They thought she was a witch because of her eyes?” Hermione asked lightly, astonished. Draco nodded.
“Her parents did, at least. They couldn’t stand the thought of having a witch for a daughter. What they ended up doing was giving her to a band of gypsies that had been traveling through their town. Her parents had told the entire town that the child had died at birth, which was also very common back then. The gypsies saw her eyes and believed it to be a mark of incredible power. They were honored to adopt Amora. In fact, Amora was her real first name, but Vinnopal was just the last name of the gypsy who adopted her.”
“So she grew up among the gypsies? That’s incredible!” Malfoy nodded before continuing.
“Well, there was something else. Back then before she could speak or really move about, they didn’t realize that she was blind. They were disappointed, but this did not make their belief in her power lessen. They spent the first sixteen years of her life trying to bring the power forth. They did nothing of the sort. There simply was no power, but they were in denial. They refused to believe that a girl could be born looking like that and not have some sort of ability that would forever save the gypsies,” Malfoy said. He ran a hand through his hair and Hermione hugged her knees tightly to her chest, beckoning with her eyes for him to continue.
“Well on her sixteenth birthday, the town was invaded by English soldiers. They murdered or captured everyone there. The ones captured and proven gypsies were gathered in the center of their village. They were going to have a witch-burning,” Malfoy stated sadly, all of a sudden not enjoying the legend as much as he had before.
“What happened to Amora?” Hermione asked in a whisper. Malfoy sighed and looked at her.
“I’m getting there. It’s strange. Gypsies weren’t witches or wizards. They had no powers, you know. They just believed in magic, in nature, and in the art of charm and illusion. There was nothing magical about it. Still, their ways frightened the narrow-minded and they were murdered for their culture. They had no way of protecting themselves as the real wizards could.”
Hermione crept over to him, placing her head on his shoulder. He held her tight and she basked in the warmth and strength of his arms. This wasn’t a legend. This was a horror story. A story about men and women who murdered their kind, or people they thought were their kind, just because they were different.
Hermione shivered.
“They broke into Amora’s house. You have to understand that she was blind and had no idea of what was going on. Her adoptive mother hid her as best she could in a herb chest. As you know, other senses are increased when someone is born blind. Amora’s senses were nothing special, but she did have a connection to her mother. She was the one woman who had loved her despite the differences. She was the woman who had brought light into the world of dark she was trapped in.”
Hermione hugged Draco tighter, feeling the tears welling up.
“She could hear her mother’s screams and the soldiers speaking of the burning. Amora couldn’t just stay silent in the chest while her mother burned. She burst out and threw herself at the soldiers. They took one look at her and screamed, running from the home, ranting that the gypsy girl was possessed by the devil. Amora’s mother knew this meant bad news and they rushed from the house together. They were seen running into the woods and chased down.
Her mother was an older woman, and she and Amora were split up. When Amora heard her dying screams, she froze, realizing she was lost and did not know of which way to go.”
“My god, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered, nestling closer to him, wanting him to protect her.
“The soldiers found her curled up into a ball in the woods. It was after the rest of the village had been burned. She was in shock and was led straight back into the town by wary soldiers. She came out of shock when she was being tied with her hands behind her. She pleaded with them to let her go. That she couldn’t see. That she wanted her mother. None of them listened. The just sneered and laughed at her pain. They called her foul names.
Then they lit the fire.”
“Oh!” Hermione gasped in horror.
“Yes, I know. Her skirts caught fire. You know how when Harry becomes angry or something of that sort his power gets out of control?”
“Yes… but how…”
“Well imagine a girl whose powers were like Harry’s and had been steadily growing for sixteen years, never once being eased in the slightest, all of a sudden being set on fire?”
“In the name of Merlin,” Hermione murmured, raising a trembling hand to her temple.
“Her entire body caught on fire, and they all assumed that when her screams stopped she was dead. They all congratulated each other and murdering the demon child. That’s when the fire was absorbed…”
“Absorbed?”
“Her body soaked them up like a sponge. Fire is the source of most power. We all have fire in our souls. Her soul’s fire combined with the fire of her power, added with actual fire… let’s just says there was quite an explosion.”
“Oh no…”
“Over fifty soldiers were murdered in the blast when her rage got out of control. She still does not brandish a wand and cannot mix potions, but she has mastered a form of wandless magic that most wizards dream of. She went into hiding. When her powers were released or when she absorbed the fire, her senses increased to a phenomenal level.
She can hear things, from a creak in a floorboard a mile away to a thought running through your head. She can feel body heat, but mostly she feels power. Everyone has power radiating off of their bodies from the source of their power, and she can feel it. She can feel the power from every single person on the face of the earth. Every single individual… imagine what that’s like!” Malfoy exclaimed.
“That still doesn’t explain why most wizards wish for her to visit them,” Hermione pondered. Malfoy sighed.
“That’s because the legend isn’t over. You see her mind is plagued with such a guilty conscience that it has frozen her body in time, which is why she is still sixteen. She refuses to forgive herself for murdering all of those soldiers.”
“But they murdered her family! It was a massacre, and she feels guilty?” Hermione cried out loud, angry. Malfoy nodded.
“She was a blind girl and didn’t see the faces of the men she accidentally slaughtered. She had to feel the pain and misery of their friends and family. They say it marked her soul in a way that she’ll never forget. She doesn’t want any other witch or wizard to feel this way. So, she swore to herself that if any magical creature had a power level that could do what she did, then she would commit herself to helping them control it. She doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“I understand now. Her visiting you would be sort of evidence to how powerful you were. It’s like being branded the most powerful wizard of all time!” Hermione exclaimed. Malfoy rolled his eyes.
“Not of all time! Just of his generation… maybe not the only one either,” he grumbled enviously. “They say that the last wizard she trained was Dumbledore,” he added. Hermione’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride for Harry and pity for the girl.
“Malfoy… that means that Harry possesses enough power to… but he would never do that!”
“Neither would she. Hermione, the action wasn’t voluntary.”
“If a bad dream or an argument with Ron about his parents causes a leak to spring in Harry’s power, when it took Amora being burned to death to bring it forth, then…”
“Basically if you piss Boy Wonder off enough, he could destroy the world.”
Chapter 34 - Shagging Draco Malfoy
“Malfoy, you know that we can’t tell anyone about us, right?” Hermione asked. They stood in the middle of the Head Common Room, snogging the daylights out of one another. Malfoy’s hair was thoroughly mussed and Hermione’s lips were swollen and sensitive.
He smiled at her and ran a hand sweetly through her hair.
“Of course, love. I’m not an idiot,” he laughed. Hermione placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his steady and rhythmic heartbeat.
“I wish that we could tell everyone,” she whispered sadly.
“Well go ahead. My house will shun me, Potty and the Weasels will attempt murder, and you’ll be without friends,” Malfoy mused realistically. Hermione tightened her grasp around his strong torso.
“I’m sorry, Hermione. It’s just sometimes when I see you in the corridors, I want nothing more than to just slam you up against the wall and…”
“Malfoy!”
“… Kiss you. Granger you have a dirty mind,” Malfoy snickered and Hermione blushed deeply.
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me,” she said and ran her hands over his strong and bold chest. He smiled and ran his fingers across the silky smooth skin of her cheek. She nuzzled his hand and kissed his palm. He didn’t deserve a girl like her.
“Yes, and you’ve exceeded your potential as a kisser. At first you were a bit iffy but now I have to say that I think my talent has worn off on you,” he said with a laugh. Hermione hit his chest playfully.
“You think you’re so great! You prick,” Hermione murmured.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings. Give me a kiss and make me feel better,” Malfoy pouted and leaned in close, attempting to kiss her. Hermione turned away.
“No. If I’m such a bad kisser then why don’t you find a girl who can match your skill?” she snapped.
“I thought you were smart, Granger. I said that NOW you’re a GREAT kisser… just as good as me! So I have found someone with my exceptional skill… so give this ‘bleached ferret’ a nice big wet one,” he laughed.
“I have to go to breakfast… I promised Ginny…”
He didn’t listen, just simply tickled her and repeatedly called himself a bleached ferret and a slithering snake.
Hermione resisted for a moment, giggling at his insults, and then gave in and let him kiss her.
She didn’t regret it.
----------------------------------------------------------
It was breakfast and Ginny sat at the table, looking around for Hermione. She had promised Ginny to meet her down there nearly twenty minutes ago. Hermione was never late.
Ginny was worried that something bad must have happened to her. She could have fainted again. She could have fallen down the stairs. She had weaseled out of Professor McGonagall the other day that Hermione had just two weeks left and had told Ron and Harry. It seemed to have affected Harry deeply and gave him terrible nightmares… but that wasn’t the point.
With just two weeks left, she was doomed to have more fainting spells. The thought of Hermione lying unconscious and cold somewhere in the castle made Ginny tremble.
“Ron, Harry, I’m going to go find Hermione,” Ginny told the two boys. Ron was busy shoveling food into his mouth and Harry seemed distracted and in his own little world.
“O ah inny!” Ron spoke through his food. It sounded oddly like ‘Okay, Ginny!’ She nodded and stood, leaving the boys at the table, and making her way up to the Head Common Room.
Hermione was in the bathroom, freshening up. Draco was lying shirtless on the couch. She knew that the two of them weren’t going to… do it… but it still didn’t mean that the two couldn’t fool around.
She applied makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She noticed how thing she looked. With a sigh she brushed her teeth quickly and ran a brush through her hair. She applied a perfume called “Love Spell” and giggled at the name.
She felt that her nose was running, so she grabbed some tissues and blew her nose.
She pulled the tissue away and looked up in the mirror. Blood was smeared along her upper lip. She looked in the tissue and saw the blood, strikingly bold against the white, and her hands trembled. She dropped it in the toilet and flushed it quickly, not wanting to look at it.
She wiped the blood quickly away from her lip and applied make up to hide any left over traces of it.
She stripped off her robes, hoping that Ginny wouldn’t be too angry with her for skipping their breakfast meeting.
Hermione now wore a white blouse and short pleated skirt. She unbuttoned two top buttons and one near the bottom, revealing her naval and more skin than appropriate.
She stepped out of the bathroom, smiling at Draco mischievously. She burst into laughter at the sight of him when he saw her. He laughed and shrugged. He just looked so adorable that with a gleeful cry she rushed at him and leapt over the arm of the couch and on top of him.
------------------------------------------------------
Ginny was approaching Sir Bentley. She had not seen Hermione anywhere. She must still be in the Common Room. Most likely with that foul creature, Malfoy. She was almost sure that Hermione was either unconscious or in the middle of some sort of confrontation with that stupid ferret.
He was such a bugger. With his cocky attitude, how he had treated all of them throughout the years, and how he had sabotaged so many things. How could one boy be so cruel? How could one boy be so foul?
She approached Sir Bentley, who was picking at his nails in boredom.
“Good afternoon, Sir Bentley,” she smiled at him kindly. He looked at her, his painted eyebrows raised.
“Ah, Miss Weasley. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he smiled and bowed to her. She nodded and bowed.
“Has Hermione left this morning?” Ginny asked, and the portrait shook its head.
“I’m afraid not, dear. She’s been in there since yesterday afternoon. I assume she’s researching something. She has at least twenty rather large books in there,” he sighed and fixed his hair. “The girl really loves homework and reading,” he laughed.
Ginny giggled.
“Well, would I be allowed in to see her?” Ginny asked hopefully. Sir Bentley shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Ginny’s heart sank sadly, and she tugged on a lock of hair with aggravation.
“That is… not without the password.”
-------------------------------------------------------
Hermione was beneath Malfoy, feeling his warm kisses on her mouth and the rasp of his hot breath against her skin. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him and one knee was raised, lifting her skirt up.
“You tempt me too much,” Malfoy whispered gruffly before inclining his head to kiss her neck sweetly. She ran her hands through his hair and pressed up against him, enjoying the feeling of his lips and tongue on the pulse of her neck.
“For some reason I only tempt you when I don’t want you to be TOO tempted,” she giggled. Malfoy looked at her and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, well your innocence is much more seductive than your naughtiness,” he laughed. Hermione blushed but her thoughts were cut off as he continued to kiss her again. She felt his hands moving over the soft skin of her stomach, playing with the bottom button.
“Malfoy…” she whispered and placed a hand on his fingers with were fiddling with the buttons.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured guiltily. But she was not angry. In fact, she just simply removed his hand from the button and worked diligently, unbuttoning her entire blouse herself.
Malfoy could not tear his eyes away from her and she giggled.
“Now where were we?” she asked and reached up, pulling him down for an even more passionate kiss, the excitement doubled from the feel of his bare chest pressed against hers.
“Oh, I know it!” Ginny stomped her foot in aggravation. Sir Bentley laughed at the pout on her face.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t come in without it,” he reminded her. She made a face and thought for a moment.
“It was something odd… not usually a password…”
“Mm.”
“Chaperone?” she asked. The man shook his head and she grumbled something under her breath. “Chandelier?” Sir Bentley laughed and said no once again. “Champagne?”
“No, my dear. Perhaps you should just wait for Miss Granger to emerge…”
“No! I know this! Ch… Ch… Char…”
Sir Bentley inclined his head, listening intently. Ginny smiled triumphantly. It started with Char! She was halfway there.
“Charcoal?” she asked and Sir Bentley rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose not,” she sighed. “Umm… char… charl…” he leaned in closer. Yes! She had the next letter! “Charl… Charlene?” he sighed and shook his head no and Ginny cursed under her breath.
“Charla… charlat…” Sir Bentley leaned in so close Ginny thought he might just pop out of the portrait. “Charlotte?” she asked. He shook his head no and Ginny cursed, stomping her foot. “Charlat… charlatan? No… that’s not a word…”
Sir Bentley was swinging open though, revealing the opening into the Head Common Room.
“It’s charlatan?” she asked.
“Yes Miss Weasley, and it is a word,” he laughed. Ginny rolled her eyes and climbed into the Head Common Room. She heard strange noises and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Hermione?” she asked as she walked into the light. Her eyes bulged at what she saw.
Hermione loved the feeling of Draco’s skin pressed firmly against hers. The heat between them was nearly suffocating, but she didn’t mind. His kisses were warm and full. It jut made her feel so… alive.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and their kissed became more passionate than ever.
“Oh Granger…” he murmured, the pleasure obvious. She laughed and then flipped him over so she was on top of him, straddling him with her shirt wide open. He looked up at her with want in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile.
She leaned down and kissed him deeply, running her hands along his chest and arms, lacing them behind his neck. She never wanted it to stop. She never wanted to stop kissing him… she never wanted to stop loving him…
“Hermione?” someone asked as they walked into the room. She looked up in horror to see Ginny standing there, staring at her in shock. She saw her blouse open and Draco twisting slightly to look at her.
Hermione turned such a deep red it challenged Ron when he was at extreme embarrassment. She clutched desperately to close her blouse.
“Ginny… oh no… Ginny it’s not what you think!”
“WHAT? SO YOU’RE NOT SHAGGING DRACO MALFOY?”
Harry and Ron went off to the Astronomy Tower for class while Ginny went to Charms. Hermione didn’t have class for another half an hour.
“I’m off to Transfiguration,” Malfoy mumbled as he stepped out of his bedroom, his silver and green tie lying loosely around his neck. She smiled and walked up to him, tying his tie gently. He smiled down at her as she did so.
“Don’t you look handsome?” she asked with a giggle.
“Just irresistible… I can’t help it,” Draco shrugged and Hermione giggled. She took a firm grasp on the tie and pulled him down into a sweet, lingering kiss. “How’s your head?” he asked and gently ran his fingers across the white bandage. She sighed.
“It’s a bit sore, but nothing you wouldn’t expect from toppling down a flight of stairs,” she shrugged. He laughed and gave her an extra hard squeeze. Then he reached into his robes and pulled out a manila envelope.
“An owl delivered this to my window this morning… it’s addressed to you. I knew you, Potty and his pet Weasels were all bonding…
“Malfoy!”
“Sorry… that Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all here so I held onto it. Don’t worry… I know not to open your mail anymore,” he laughed and handed the envelope to Hermione. She smirked and gave him a peck on the lips before he left for class.
She looked at the envelope and didn’t recognize the handwriting that had her name scrawled messily. She sighed and opened it up quietly.
She pulled out the folded paper and began to read.
Hermione (I hope I spelled that right),
It’s Billy from St. Mungo’s. Remember me? You told me to keep in touch so I figured it’d be best if I sent the first letter. I mean you don’t exactly know where I live. Anyways, how are you? How are you feeling? Fallen down any staircases lately?
Sorry if my sense of humor offends you.
Nathan came out of treatment looking better than he has in weeks. It’s so great to see him this way. I really think that there’s a high chance he’ll recover. According to the Healers all signs are pointing to that the cancer is dead. You don’t know how relieved that makes me. If they can help my brother, who says they still can’t help you?
I know that you don’t want to hear this, but I mean maybe there’s something that the Healers haven’t thought of, or they have thought of and haven’t risked it. I mean you can’t just give up so willingly!
I’ll stop talking about that depressing subject. How is Ginny? I still feel really guilty about breaking up with her. Maybe she’ll even consider taking me back. If Nathan gets well I hope to continue seeing her. She was really something special to me.
Have you found anyone special? If these really are your last two weeks then you should try to find that one person and hold onto them with all your might. Don’t let anything get in the way of the way your heart feels. I did that and I’ve never regretted anything more in my entire life. Then again, I am only sixteen.
I’ve always wanted to try Quidditch. I think it’d be bloody incredible to soar about on a broom for hours on end, playing sports, using your actual brain for strategic skills, and so on and so forth. Do you enjoy Quidditch? Of course you do! It’s the best bloody sport in the world, and I’m just a muggle!
By the way, you aren’t one of those types who hate all Muggles and everyone who has muggle parents, now are you?
I don’t think you are. You seem too nice to be one of those god-awful characters.
I suppose I should stop boring you now. It’s just I can’t believe that the chances of Nathan’s survival have tripled! I’m just so happy. Everything would be perfect if you could get well too. I’ll stop bringing up bad topics.
I hope you write soon.
Your hopeful friend,
Billy Harris
Hermione smiled down at the letter and sighed. She pulled out a parchment and quill, dipping the tip in the ink before she began to write.
Billy,
This is Hermione. Yes you did spell my name correctly, and I thank you for writing to me.
It’s such great news that Nathan is better. And no, for your information, I have NOT fallen down any staircases lately. I’ve only tripped over my own feet lately, thank you very much.
Ginny is doing very well. I hope this doesn’t hurt, but she seems to have moved on. After you broke up with her you couldn’t have expected her to wait for you to come around. I wish that you had just told her the truth instead of trying to protect you and her from the pain involved. There will always be the same amount of pain, but how it is distributed is up to you. I hate to say this, but I doubt that there will be anything between you two again. I don’t want to be mean, just honest.
I have found someone special, actually. Well, I think he’s special. Things are really confusing between he and I. He isn’t my boyfriend and we aren’t dating, but still I think I might love him. He was cruel to me for six years straight and now for some reason I can’t stop thinking about him. I really care about him. The hard part is that we can’t tell a soul about us because no one would approve. It’s hard to keep it a secret.
I do enjoy watching the game, but only when it’s my house playing. Mostly because my best friends are captain/seeker of the house team, keeper, and a chaser. Also the boy that I’m technically not seeing is a Seeker for one of the other House Teams. By the way, it would be most appreciated if you didn’t mention this boy to anyone. As I said, it’s direly important that it remains a secret.
Also, I really don’t enjoy flying very much. Actually I’m quite frightened of it.
No, I’m not one of those types who discriminate against mixed blood witches and wizards. In fact, I’m a muggle-born; or a “mudblood” in vulgar terms.
You didn’t bore me in the least. I’m so happy that Nathan will be getting better. I hope you write back soon and keep me updated on everything that is happening. It’s nice hearing about someone with a condition similar to mine getting better.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
She read over the letter approvingly. She tucked it into her pocket as she looked at her watch, realizing she was about to be late for class. She swore that she’d send it as soon as it was over.
With that she picked up her books and ran from the room and through the portrait, not paying attention to where she was going as she quickened her pace and strapped her pack shut.
She ran head-on into a body, stumbling backwards and falling on the floor. By the loud thump from the other person, she assumed that they too had fallen backwards.
“Oh I’m so sorry!” Hermione exclaimed and stood quickly. The young woman she had bumped into was lying on the floor, her eyes closed. She obviously did not attend the school. She wore long jogging pants and a white sweatshirt. She was tall and thin, cinnamon colored hair falling thick and messily about her shoulders.
She was a very pretty girl.
She sat up, keeping her eyes closed at first. She rubbed her head and mumbled something. Hermione helped the girl stand up.
She was a very tall girl, nearly the same height as Harry.
She knelt down to the floor and picked a cane up. Hermione had not seen that before. She held it out and slid it across the ground and the end came into contact with Hermione’s foot.
The girl opened her eyes slowly and Hermione cried out in shock and horror.
The girl had no pigments in her eyes. No pupils were there. Her eyes were simply unflawed and milky, no other color at all. They were just pure voids of white. She did not look directly at Hermione, yet right by her.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Harry Potter.”
Chapter 32 - The Things I See
Harry was returning with Ron to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was still a bit awkward after sobbing with Hermione from the aftershock of a nightmare, but he tried to act as collected as possible. He was nervous that Ron would pick a fight with him and his power would just explode from him. He was nervous he would do something wrong. He was nervous that something bad was going to happen.
“Pumpernickel,” Harry stated to the Fat Lady, who bowed and moved aside for the two of them to climb in. They were discussing their latest win against Hufflepuff in Quidditch. With a smile they laughed and walked into the Common Room, not expecting visitors.
“And remember the save I made when we were down by 10 points? Bloody hell, Harry, if I play that good against Ravenclaw then we’ll be a shoe-in for the finals!” Ron exclaimed gleefully.
“Harry? Harry Potter?” a light and sweet voice drifted over to them. They looked at the couch. A young girl sat there, wearing sweats. Cinnamon hair fell delicately in front of her face. She was a very beautiful girl, though Harry didn’t understand why she didn’t open her eyes.
“Erm… that’s me,” Harry mumbled. The girl nodded with a bright smile that seemed to light up the room.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Tell your friend to join us,” she said and motioned for them. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged with raised eyebrows. They walked over and sat at the couch directly across from them. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. Your friend Hermione Granger let me in and told me to wait for you here,” she said, her hands folded in her lap.
Her eyes were still closed, and it was making Harry uncomfortable.
“Who are you?” Ron asked. The girl titled her head slightly towards Ron, though she still did not face him. Why wouldn’t she just open her eyes?
“My name is Amora Vinnopal,” she answered. “Though please refrain from calling me Amora. I’d prefer it if you called me Amy,” she told them with her sweet smile. Harry felt something flop about in his stomach. It felt nice.
“The name’s Ron Weasley,” Ron said and reached out towards her, his hand in position for her to grasp and shake. She did not reach out to take it and did not acknowledge its presence, so he awkwardly withdrew it.
“Do you happen to have a sister?” she asked.
“Yes… do you know her?”
“No, sorry,” she said with a shrug. Ron’s mouth opened for a moment, but he shut it before looking at Harry and shrugging. The girl was quiet for a minute, the silence making Ron and Harry even more awkward. Neville all of a sudden walked through the door, looked at the three of them and furrowed his eyebrows, and headed up to the boy’s dormitory.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t wish for anyone else to hear this. I’m sure Harry would like to keep it as discrete as possible,” she giggled.
“You knew Neville was coming?” Harry asked in surprise. The girl nodded, the smile wide on her face. It still looked so strange that her eyes were shut. He had the urge to pry them open.
“Yes. He’s been spending much too much time handling magical fertilizers,” she whispered seriously. Ron couldn’t help but laugh. Harry smiled at this and ran a hand through his hair. The girl titled her head to the side and stretched.
“So, why are you here?” Harry asked, leaning in a bit. The girl licked her dry lips and seemed to think about what she was going to say. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, thinking some more.
“Harry, do you have any idea the power you possess?” she asked in a whisper. Harry drew back a little. What was she talking about?
“What?” Ron asked for him. The girl sighed and then raised her hand. She waved it delicately around him. Her face was serene, calm, and impassive. Harry watched in fascination.
“I can feel it. I don’t know how you can’t, but I can. It’s like I’m standing in a freezing windstorm, but two suns are throbbing so close its singing the hairs on my face. Here,” she said, pointing to the scar on his head.
“Are you off your rocker?” Ron laughed. The girl was impassive still, and she lowered her hand and placed it gently on Harry’s chest.
“But even more here,” she finished before drawing back and sitting firmly in her seat. She waited for their responses.
“Are you some sort of Seer or something?” Harry mumbled. The girl laughed and ran her fingers through her bangs, tucking them behind her ear. Harry felt his own fingers tingle and he could almost feel the silky hair between them. He didn’t know how such a small gesture could stir so much inside of him.
“No, not at all. I cannot predict the future, see the past, or say other obvious nonsensical things, as you seem to think all predictions. You should have more of an open mind, Ron.”
“Me? I thought you were talking to Harry!” Ron exclaimed. She titled her head slightly so she faced Ron, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut.
“No. Harry is open-minded. Apparently predictions have come true for him before, so he believes. You, however, have no belief in it at all,” Amy told him. “There are powers and things that even you are not aware of… especially inside yourself.” Ron turned crimson at this statement and Harry smiled.
She turned and almost faced Harry again, though she had missed by a few inches.
“So… why are you here?” Harry asked. She paused for a moment.
“To help you,” she replied. “To help both of you. To help all of you.”
“How?”
“You’re all like fizzy drinks. Potential is bubbling up inside of you, waiting for the right person to flip the cap and let out your exceptional quality. Ron, you are like that fizzy drink. Harry…” she paused for a moment.
“What?” he asked, his palms sweating nervously.
“You are like a shaken up soda pop. You’re on the verge of exploding. I’m the one who is going to help you release all that energy… without letting anyone get hurt. It’s what you’re afraid of I see that. I see that you’re so terrified of your own capabilities that you don’t even want to pick up your wand.”
Harry stared at her, anger boiling up inside of his stomach.
“How can you see that I’m afraid? You won’t even open your eyes to look at me!” He shouted at her.
“I’m keeping my eyes closed so you won’t be afraid.”
“If I’m so afraid of myself, then I shouldn’t be afraid of you! Look at me!” Harry shouted at her, guilt filling him for exploding at her like that. She had hit a sensitive nerve. The girl knelt down and picked up a cane off the floor, which she had slipped under the couch. Harry stared at it in shock as she held it, and he realized she was blind.
He was in more shock when she opened her eyes. Ron let out a scream of terror when he saw what lay beneath those lids.
Pure white balls, orbs, or gleaming spheres were in her eye sockets. They were radiant, purer white than freshly fallen snow. Harry thought that if he stuck his finger into the white it would just keep going, as if she had no eyes but just white… white nothing.
She did not look at them, but looked straight past them. There was no anger, hurt, or jealousy in her serene face. She opened her mouth and spoke with her angelic voice before turning and leaving the Common Room.
“I was born a freak, just like you. I can’t look at you, Harry. I may be blind, but you’d be astonished at the things I see.”
Chapter 33 - The Urban Legend
Draco didn’t see Hermione until after dinner that day. He had been returning to the Head Common Room, thinking about her. He thought about the feel of her lips, the touch of her skin, and the smell of her hair. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him and he loved the happiness in her smile.
He couldn’t wait to see her again. He couldn’t wait to wrap her safely in his arms. He knew that he promised to never let her go, and in a way he didn’t. She was still safe in his heart.
What had become of him? He used to be Draco Malfoy, the most feared and hated boy in all of Hogwarts. People shivered at the sound of his name. He was the one boy who was sure to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Death Eater.
He had his chance and he had been afraid. He had backed away at the direst moment in his life. Was Ron right? Would he run away from Hermione when she needed him most?
Then again running away from Voldemort was not something that he regretted. Ever considering becoming one of his followers… joining his demented cult… was what he regretted. The thought of hurting Hermione was what he regretted.
How had he gone the past six years not seeing how beautiful she was? How had her strength gone unnoticed to him?
“Hello, Sir Bentley,” Draco said with a thoughtful smile. The character in the portrait eyed him suspiciously.
“Hello, young Mr. Malfoy. I hate to be blunt, but I really do not understand you,” he mused, furrowing his painted eyebrows. Malfoy smiled at this and laughed. It was something sweet and rich, the old cold sneer seemingly forgotten.
“I’m at the point where I don’t even understand myself. Charlatan… and I do mean the password,” Draco said with a wink and Sir Bentley laughed before he swung open, letting him inside.
He saw Hermione on the couch, countless books spread around her.
“Granger?” he asked. She looked up at him for a moment, acknowledged his existence, and turned back to her research. He walked over behind the couch. He leaned over and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them firmly.
“I can’t find anything about her ANYWHERE!” Hermione groaned and slammed a particularly thick book down on the coffee table. Draco noticed how the wood was lighter where it had been repaired after Harry’s burst of power.
“About who?” he asked, bending over and nuzzling her neck, pressing his lips sweetly against her skin.
“As good as that feels, Malfoy, I’m really not in the mood,” she said and stood, leaving Draco heated and confused. She paced the room, her eyebrows kneaded in thought. The bandage was removed from the back of her head. He really thought that she should eat something, but said nothing.
“What’s troubling you?” he asked and hopped over the back of the couch, stretching out on the soft cushions. He cracked his ankles and yawned, making himself comfortable. She looked at him, motioned towards the books, threw her arms in the air, and let out a sigh of exasperation.
“There’s this girl I met. Her name is Amora Vinnopal and she has these eyes… she’s blind, you know. There is no coloring at ALL. I’m talking that she has no pupils, pigment, nothing! She was looking for Harry. I wanted to ask why. She doesn’t attend Hogwarts and she made me nervous. She told me that Professor Dumbledore sent for her, showed me a note and the password to the Gryffindor Common Room, and so I led her there. I left her… if I hadn’t I would have been late for class. But I mean a girl like her… one that a Professor sent for… and there’s no record of her anywhere!” Hermione exclaimed and slammed her hands down on the coffee table in frustration.
Draco was smiling triumphantly.
“You’re telling me you don’t know who Amora Vinnopal is? Hermione, she’s like an urban legend! A true one, apparently…” Draco said, stroking his chin. Hermione turned to him, smiling.
“You’ve heard of her? In the name of Merlin, tell me everything you know!” she demanded.
“No.”
“No? Why not?” Hermione asked looking put out.
“Because you hurt my feelings when you wouldn’t let me kiss you. I was just trying to say hello,” Malfoy laughed and wiped a pretend tear from his eye. Hermione rolled her chocolate brown eyes and pulled him towards her for a quick and rough kiss.
“There, now tell me EVERYTHING!”
“That wasn’t a kiss,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. He reached out and snaked his arms around her waist, drawing her in close. Her body excited him, lit a fire in his stomach that he never wanted to be extinguished.
He pressed his lips fully against hers and felt her melt against him. At first she resisted ever so slightly, but she gave in and let herself succumb to the artful dance of his lips. He kissed her until he felt she didn’t want to stop, and he pulled away.
She stood there, lips still puckered and eyes still closed, for just a moment longer. When she opened her eyes she glared at him, as if blaming him for ending the excitement.
“Are you going to tell me about Amora Vinnopal or not?” she demanded, though he could still see a spark in her eyes from their intimate moment. He couldn’t help but enjoy the thought that he had made her feel that way. He had made her want him just as he wanted her.
He smiled and sat back down on the couch, motioning for her to sit next to him. She sat down at his side, looking at him with expectant and wide eyes.
“It’s time I tell you a story, I suppose,” Malfoy laughed. “It’s said that Amora was born in the mid 1600’s…”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Hermione exclaimed. “That’d make her over four hundred years old!” she cried. Draco sighed.
“Now you understand why she’s an urban legend. The legend is very rare, but it is told most often among the most powerful wizards. You see it is their dream for Amora to come to them… I should just continue,” he laughed.
Hermione nodded eagerly, already entranced by the story.
“As I said, she’s somewhat of an urban legend. She was born in the mid-1600. She was a normal muggle. She had no exceptional abilities at all, whatsoever. That is, except for her eyes. There was nothing mythical about them, of course. It was just a birth defect. But remember, this was in the 1600’s when witch burnings were most popular. The fact that she was born in Salem wasn’t exactly a good thing either.”
“They thought she was a witch because of her eyes?” Hermione asked lightly, astonished. Draco nodded.
“Her parents did, at least. They couldn’t stand the thought of having a witch for a daughter. What they ended up doing was giving her to a band of gypsies that had been traveling through their town. Her parents had told the entire town that the child had died at birth, which was also very common back then. The gypsies saw her eyes and believed it to be a mark of incredible power. They were honored to adopt Amora. In fact, Amora was her real first name, but Vinnopal was just the last name of the gypsy who adopted her.”
“So she grew up among the gypsies? That’s incredible!” Malfoy nodded before continuing.
“Well, there was something else. Back then before she could speak or really move about, they didn’t realize that she was blind. They were disappointed, but this did not make their belief in her power lessen. They spent the first sixteen years of her life trying to bring the power forth. They did nothing of the sort. There simply was no power, but they were in denial. They refused to believe that a girl could be born looking like that and not have some sort of ability that would forever save the gypsies,” Malfoy said. He ran a hand through his hair and Hermione hugged her knees tightly to her chest, beckoning with her eyes for him to continue.
“Well on her sixteenth birthday, the town was invaded by English soldiers. They murdered or captured everyone there. The ones captured and proven gypsies were gathered in the center of their village. They were going to have a witch-burning,” Malfoy stated sadly, all of a sudden not enjoying the legend as much as he had before.
“What happened to Amora?” Hermione asked in a whisper. Malfoy sighed and looked at her.
“I’m getting there. It’s strange. Gypsies weren’t witches or wizards. They had no powers, you know. They just believed in magic, in nature, and in the art of charm and illusion. There was nothing magical about it. Still, their ways frightened the narrow-minded and they were murdered for their culture. They had no way of protecting themselves as the real wizards could.”
Hermione crept over to him, placing her head on his shoulder. He held her tight and she basked in the warmth and strength of his arms. This wasn’t a legend. This was a horror story. A story about men and women who murdered their kind, or people they thought were their kind, just because they were different.
Hermione shivered.
“They broke into Amora’s house. You have to understand that she was blind and had no idea of what was going on. Her adoptive mother hid her as best she could in a herb chest. As you know, other senses are increased when someone is born blind. Amora’s senses were nothing special, but she did have a connection to her mother. She was the one woman who had loved her despite the differences. She was the woman who had brought light into the world of dark she was trapped in.”
Hermione hugged Draco tighter, feeling the tears welling up.
“She could hear her mother’s screams and the soldiers speaking of the burning. Amora couldn’t just stay silent in the chest while her mother burned. She burst out and threw herself at the soldiers. They took one look at her and screamed, running from the home, ranting that the gypsy girl was possessed by the devil. Amora’s mother knew this meant bad news and they rushed from the house together. They were seen running into the woods and chased down.
Her mother was an older woman, and she and Amora were split up. When Amora heard her dying screams, she froze, realizing she was lost and did not know of which way to go.”
“My god, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered, nestling closer to him, wanting him to protect her.
“The soldiers found her curled up into a ball in the woods. It was after the rest of the village had been burned. She was in shock and was led straight back into the town by wary soldiers. She came out of shock when she was being tied with her hands behind her. She pleaded with them to let her go. That she couldn’t see. That she wanted her mother. None of them listened. The just sneered and laughed at her pain. They called her foul names.
Then they lit the fire.”
“Oh!” Hermione gasped in horror.
“Yes, I know. Her skirts caught fire. You know how when Harry becomes angry or something of that sort his power gets out of control?”
“Yes… but how…”
“Well imagine a girl whose powers were like Harry’s and had been steadily growing for sixteen years, never once being eased in the slightest, all of a sudden being set on fire?”
“In the name of Merlin,” Hermione murmured, raising a trembling hand to her temple.
“Her entire body caught on fire, and they all assumed that when her screams stopped she was dead. They all congratulated each other and murdering the demon child. That’s when the fire was absorbed…”
“Absorbed?”
“Her body soaked them up like a sponge. Fire is the source of most power. We all have fire in our souls. Her soul’s fire combined with the fire of her power, added with actual fire… let’s just says there was quite an explosion.”
“Oh no…”
“Over fifty soldiers were murdered in the blast when her rage got out of control. She still does not brandish a wand and cannot mix potions, but she has mastered a form of wandless magic that most wizards dream of. She went into hiding. When her powers were released or when she absorbed the fire, her senses increased to a phenomenal level.
She can hear things, from a creak in a floorboard a mile away to a thought running through your head. She can feel body heat, but mostly she feels power. Everyone has power radiating off of their bodies from the source of their power, and she can feel it. She can feel the power from every single person on the face of the earth. Every single individual… imagine what that’s like!” Malfoy exclaimed.
“That still doesn’t explain why most wizards wish for her to visit them,” Hermione pondered. Malfoy sighed.
“That’s because the legend isn’t over. You see her mind is plagued with such a guilty conscience that it has frozen her body in time, which is why she is still sixteen. She refuses to forgive herself for murdering all of those soldiers.”
“But they murdered her family! It was a massacre, and she feels guilty?” Hermione cried out loud, angry. Malfoy nodded.
“She was a blind girl and didn’t see the faces of the men she accidentally slaughtered. She had to feel the pain and misery of their friends and family. They say it marked her soul in a way that she’ll never forget. She doesn’t want any other witch or wizard to feel this way. So, she swore to herself that if any magical creature had a power level that could do what she did, then she would commit herself to helping them control it. She doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“I understand now. Her visiting you would be sort of evidence to how powerful you were. It’s like being branded the most powerful wizard of all time!” Hermione exclaimed. Malfoy rolled his eyes.
“Not of all time! Just of his generation… maybe not the only one either,” he grumbled enviously. “They say that the last wizard she trained was Dumbledore,” he added. Hermione’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride for Harry and pity for the girl.
“Malfoy… that means that Harry possesses enough power to… but he would never do that!”
“Neither would she. Hermione, the action wasn’t voluntary.”
“If a bad dream or an argument with Ron about his parents causes a leak to spring in Harry’s power, when it took Amora being burned to death to bring it forth, then…”
“Basically if you piss Boy Wonder off enough, he could destroy the world.”
Chapter 34 - Shagging Draco Malfoy
“Malfoy, you know that we can’t tell anyone about us, right?” Hermione asked. They stood in the middle of the Head Common Room, snogging the daylights out of one another. Malfoy’s hair was thoroughly mussed and Hermione’s lips were swollen and sensitive.
He smiled at her and ran a hand sweetly through her hair.
“Of course, love. I’m not an idiot,” he laughed. Hermione placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his steady and rhythmic heartbeat.
“I wish that we could tell everyone,” she whispered sadly.
“Well go ahead. My house will shun me, Potty and the Weasels will attempt murder, and you’ll be without friends,” Malfoy mused realistically. Hermione tightened her grasp around his strong torso.
“I’m sorry, Hermione. It’s just sometimes when I see you in the corridors, I want nothing more than to just slam you up against the wall and…”
“Malfoy!”
“… Kiss you. Granger you have a dirty mind,” Malfoy snickered and Hermione blushed deeply.
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me,” she said and ran her hands over his strong and bold chest. He smiled and ran his fingers across the silky smooth skin of her cheek. She nuzzled his hand and kissed his palm. He didn’t deserve a girl like her.
“Yes, and you’ve exceeded your potential as a kisser. At first you were a bit iffy but now I have to say that I think my talent has worn off on you,” he said with a laugh. Hermione hit his chest playfully.
“You think you’re so great! You prick,” Hermione murmured.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings. Give me a kiss and make me feel better,” Malfoy pouted and leaned in close, attempting to kiss her. Hermione turned away.
“No. If I’m such a bad kisser then why don’t you find a girl who can match your skill?” she snapped.
“I thought you were smart, Granger. I said that NOW you’re a GREAT kisser… just as good as me! So I have found someone with my exceptional skill… so give this ‘bleached ferret’ a nice big wet one,” he laughed.
“I have to go to breakfast… I promised Ginny…”
He didn’t listen, just simply tickled her and repeatedly called himself a bleached ferret and a slithering snake.
Hermione resisted for a moment, giggling at his insults, and then gave in and let him kiss her.
She didn’t regret it.
----------------------------------------------------------
It was breakfast and Ginny sat at the table, looking around for Hermione. She had promised Ginny to meet her down there nearly twenty minutes ago. Hermione was never late.
Ginny was worried that something bad must have happened to her. She could have fainted again. She could have fallen down the stairs. She had weaseled out of Professor McGonagall the other day that Hermione had just two weeks left and had told Ron and Harry. It seemed to have affected Harry deeply and gave him terrible nightmares… but that wasn’t the point.
With just two weeks left, she was doomed to have more fainting spells. The thought of Hermione lying unconscious and cold somewhere in the castle made Ginny tremble.
“Ron, Harry, I’m going to go find Hermione,” Ginny told the two boys. Ron was busy shoveling food into his mouth and Harry seemed distracted and in his own little world.
“O ah inny!” Ron spoke through his food. It sounded oddly like ‘Okay, Ginny!’ She nodded and stood, leaving the boys at the table, and making her way up to the Head Common Room.
Hermione was in the bathroom, freshening up. Draco was lying shirtless on the couch. She knew that the two of them weren’t going to… do it… but it still didn’t mean that the two couldn’t fool around.
She applied makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She noticed how thing she looked. With a sigh she brushed her teeth quickly and ran a brush through her hair. She applied a perfume called “Love Spell” and giggled at the name.
She felt that her nose was running, so she grabbed some tissues and blew her nose.
She pulled the tissue away and looked up in the mirror. Blood was smeared along her upper lip. She looked in the tissue and saw the blood, strikingly bold against the white, and her hands trembled. She dropped it in the toilet and flushed it quickly, not wanting to look at it.
She wiped the blood quickly away from her lip and applied make up to hide any left over traces of it.
She stripped off her robes, hoping that Ginny wouldn’t be too angry with her for skipping their breakfast meeting.
Hermione now wore a white blouse and short pleated skirt. She unbuttoned two top buttons and one near the bottom, revealing her naval and more skin than appropriate.
She stepped out of the bathroom, smiling at Draco mischievously. She burst into laughter at the sight of him when he saw her. He laughed and shrugged. He just looked so adorable that with a gleeful cry she rushed at him and leapt over the arm of the couch and on top of him.
------------------------------------------------------
Ginny was approaching Sir Bentley. She had not seen Hermione anywhere. She must still be in the Common Room. Most likely with that foul creature, Malfoy. She was almost sure that Hermione was either unconscious or in the middle of some sort of confrontation with that stupid ferret.
He was such a bugger. With his cocky attitude, how he had treated all of them throughout the years, and how he had sabotaged so many things. How could one boy be so cruel? How could one boy be so foul?
She approached Sir Bentley, who was picking at his nails in boredom.
“Good afternoon, Sir Bentley,” she smiled at him kindly. He looked at her, his painted eyebrows raised.
“Ah, Miss Weasley. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he smiled and bowed to her. She nodded and bowed.
“Has Hermione left this morning?” Ginny asked, and the portrait shook its head.
“I’m afraid not, dear. She’s been in there since yesterday afternoon. I assume she’s researching something. She has at least twenty rather large books in there,” he sighed and fixed his hair. “The girl really loves homework and reading,” he laughed.
Ginny giggled.
“Well, would I be allowed in to see her?” Ginny asked hopefully. Sir Bentley shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Ginny’s heart sank sadly, and she tugged on a lock of hair with aggravation.
“That is… not without the password.”
-------------------------------------------------------
Hermione was beneath Malfoy, feeling his warm kisses on her mouth and the rasp of his hot breath against her skin. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him and one knee was raised, lifting her skirt up.
“You tempt me too much,” Malfoy whispered gruffly before inclining his head to kiss her neck sweetly. She ran her hands through his hair and pressed up against him, enjoying the feeling of his lips and tongue on the pulse of her neck.
“For some reason I only tempt you when I don’t want you to be TOO tempted,” she giggled. Malfoy looked at her and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, well your innocence is much more seductive than your naughtiness,” he laughed. Hermione blushed but her thoughts were cut off as he continued to kiss her again. She felt his hands moving over the soft skin of her stomach, playing with the bottom button.
“Malfoy…” she whispered and placed a hand on his fingers with were fiddling with the buttons.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured guiltily. But she was not angry. In fact, she just simply removed his hand from the button and worked diligently, unbuttoning her entire blouse herself.
Malfoy could not tear his eyes away from her and she giggled.
“Now where were we?” she asked and reached up, pulling him down for an even more passionate kiss, the excitement doubled from the feel of his bare chest pressed against hers.
“Oh, I know it!” Ginny stomped her foot in aggravation. Sir Bentley laughed at the pout on her face.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t come in without it,” he reminded her. She made a face and thought for a moment.
“It was something odd… not usually a password…”
“Mm.”
“Chaperone?” she asked. The man shook his head and she grumbled something under her breath. “Chandelier?” Sir Bentley laughed and said no once again. “Champagne?”
“No, my dear. Perhaps you should just wait for Miss Granger to emerge…”
“No! I know this! Ch… Ch… Char…”
Sir Bentley inclined his head, listening intently. Ginny smiled triumphantly. It started with Char! She was halfway there.
“Charcoal?” she asked and Sir Bentley rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose not,” she sighed. “Umm… char… charl…” he leaned in closer. Yes! She had the next letter! “Charl… Charlene?” he sighed and shook his head no and Ginny cursed under her breath.
“Charla… charlat…” Sir Bentley leaned in so close Ginny thought he might just pop out of the portrait. “Charlotte?” she asked. He shook his head no and Ginny cursed, stomping her foot. “Charlat… charlatan? No… that’s not a word…”
Sir Bentley was swinging open though, revealing the opening into the Head Common Room.
“It’s charlatan?” she asked.
“Yes Miss Weasley, and it is a word,” he laughed. Ginny rolled her eyes and climbed into the Head Common Room. She heard strange noises and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Hermione?” she asked as she walked into the light. Her eyes bulged at what she saw.
Hermione loved the feeling of Draco’s skin pressed firmly against hers. The heat between them was nearly suffocating, but she didn’t mind. His kisses were warm and full. It jut made her feel so… alive.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and their kissed became more passionate than ever.
“Oh Granger…” he murmured, the pleasure obvious. She laughed and then flipped him over so she was on top of him, straddling him with her shirt wide open. He looked up at her with want in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile.
She leaned down and kissed him deeply, running her hands along his chest and arms, lacing them behind his neck. She never wanted it to stop. She never wanted to stop kissing him… she never wanted to stop loving him…
“Hermione?” someone asked as they walked into the room. She looked up in horror to see Ginny standing there, staring at her in shock. She saw her blouse open and Draco twisting slightly to look at her.
Hermione turned such a deep red it challenged Ron when he was at extreme embarrassment. She clutched desperately to close her blouse.
“Ginny… oh no… Ginny it’s not what you think!”
“WHAT? SO YOU’RE NOT SHAGGING DRACO MALFOY?”
