Hour of Grace

by Strega Brava
 
 

Chapter 10
Flick of the Wrist
 

Over the next several days, Harry and Ron grumbled and complained about the
ingredients that were required for the Omniapurgalis potion. The list Professor Snape
had given them was quite extensive and required repeat visits to both Madam Pomfrey
and Professor Sprout. The two venerable ladies were curious about what the students
were doing but Harry, sensing that it was perhaps best to keep a low profile, told them
it was a special project for Professor Snape to which they nodded knowingly, eyebrows
raised. Apparently, Professor Snape was rather infamous for his "special projects" which
were his own little euphemism
for detention.

"I’m just glad that I am not the one that has to drink this stuff," Ron told Hermione one
night as he brought her a small cauldron full of stinging nettles.

"Thanks, Ron," she said absently as she began to take them out of the cauldron and
examine the individual nettles for bruising or mishandling. They had to be in perfect
condition in order to be used in the potion.

"You should have told me that I needed gloves to pick these," Ron groused as he sat
down next to her, watching her methodical examination.

"They’re stinging nettles, Ron," she replied quietly, looking at a nettle closely then,
apparently pleased, putting it in a small silver dish.

Ron didn’t say anything. He was still trying to internalize all the information from the
past few days…and not succeeding particularly well.

“Are they okay?” He asked her, looking over her shoulder.

Hermione turned to him with a smile. "You did a really good job at gathering the nettles,
Ron. They’re absolutely perfect.  Now, let me see your hands."

Ron held up his hands for her to see. There were small, painful swellings on his fingers
and one on the back of his left hand.

"You said they had to be in perfect condition," he mumbled as she performed a cooling
spell with her wand to ease the swelling and reduce the pain.

"Is that better?"

He flexed and stretched his fingers a few times and looked at her, somewhat surprised.
"Yeah, loads better. Thanks."

Hermione put her wand down on the desk and sighed.  "No, I think I should be the
one to thank you. You have been really great about all this. I didn’t expect you to take
it at all well."

Ron sighed and put his arm around her shoulders. "This isn’t exactly easy for me. I still
want to wring his neck each time I see him."

"I know," Hermione replied with a small smile. "I’m glad you’re still my friend."

"You’re stuck with me," he joked.

"Me too," Harry called as he entered the laboratory with a plate full of dried scarlet
nightcrawlers.

"Ugh, I’m glad I don’t have to help you with those," Ron shuddered as Hermione set to
work pounding the nightcrawlers into a carnelian powder.

Harry and Ron watched as Hermione continued pounding with her mortar and pestle.
Professor Snape joined them a few minutes later and nodded in approval of their progress.

"This is coming along well," the older man remarked as he looked over the ingredients
gathered so far. "You should be able to begin brewing the potion next week, Miss Granger.
In the meantime, I suggest we begin practicing the spell…perhaps tomorrow night. We will
need someone for you to practice on."

Harry and Ron looked at one another and did a quick game of rock-scissors-paper to
determine whom the lucky (or unlucky, as the case might be) volunteer would be. Harry
sighed as Ron’s "paper" covered his "rock".

"It figures," he mumbled, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes tiredly as Professor
Snape chuckled.

"It won’t be quite as bad as you think, Mister Potter. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can’t fix."

Harry did not look particularly reassured but said nothing.

The next evening, the friends gathered at the Gryffindor table for an early dinner. They
planned to meet with Professor Snape afterwards at ten o’clock…late enough for them
to go to the Quidditch pitch and be assured of privacy at this time of year.

"I can’t believe it!" Ron fumed as he piled mashed potatoes onto his plate. "He has us
doing all this extra stuff and he still gives us two assignments!"

Hermione smiled at him as she munched thoughtfully on a cob of corn.

"What did you expect, Ron?" Harry asked as he took a sausage from a nearby platter.
"Did you think he was going to exempt us from our regular schoolwork? Us? Gryffindors?
How unlikely would that be?"

"He’s doing it on purpose," Ron grumbled as he strategically placed several pats of
butter on the steaming mound of potatoes.

"He’s trying to help us. He has a vested interest in all this, Ron," Hermione stole one
of the pats of butter from Ron’s potatoes and slathered it on her corn. "He wants to
save Draco as well."

"Speaking of whom, here he is," Harry whispered, nudging Hermione carefully.

Hermione resisted the urge to turn around immediately but waited several seconds before
casually turning, as if looking for someone. He was alone. She saw him staring at her with
that expression on his face that made her knees turn to water. She smiled at him, as if to
encourage him and he smiled back…very nervously.

There was a fluttering of velvet soft wings and an eagle owl swooped down into the Great
Hall. It landed directly in front of Draco and, even from that distance, Hermione could see
that a parchment was attached to its leg. Trembling, Draco reached over and untied the
parchment, unrolled it and began to read. His face paled, he got up and, dropping the
parchment, walked quickly out of the Great Hall. Professor Snape, who had just walked
in, immediately turned and followed.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked Hermione quietly. She shrugged her shoulders and began to bite at her fingernails.

Ron whispered something while flicking his wand nonchalantly and the parchment quietly fell to the floor, drifting lazily towards his
feet. Picking it up casually, he spread it out for them to read.
 

Draco,

Your time approaches.

Father
 

Before any of them could react to the words, the parchment shimmered momentarily and
then…vanished.

The three friends looked at one another in horror.

"This is getting serious," Ron said sternly, poking at his potatoes with his fork, in a manner
that made Hermione think he was imagining poking out Lucius Malfoy’s eyes.

"We don’t have a lot of time," Harry nodded and looked at Hermione.

"We have to go to the library…there is a book in the Restricted Section I need to sign
out," Hermione whispered, a look of determination on her face. Without waiting for her
friends, she got up and started walking out. They immediately made their way out as
well, racing slightly to catch up with her.

"No matter what…we always end up in the library, don’t we?" Ron moaned dramatically
while Harry snickered.

"Wouldn’t want to break tradition," Harry smiled.

"You reckon we ought to warn Malfoy?"

"Let him find out on his own…I don’t think he will mind much."
 

**********In the library************

Harry and Ron were immersed in translating an old Mermish text that Hermione had
found for them. It had been a recommendation of Professor Snape to research the chapter
on elixirs prepared by this curious race as it gave some detailed examples of the brewing
processes that she would need to perfect. Hermione was looking for another text, an
ancient book on Troll magic that also referenced the Omniapurgalis…at least the spell
component.

"I never fail to feel happy in this place," she thought to herself as she ran a finger
lovingly along the antique leather bindings of the various books. "There is so much
knowledge to be found here…I wish I could live long enough to read every book
here."

She turned to look at her friends and smiled as they laboriously translated the text.

"I don't get it…is it an ounce of what kind of dried fern?" Ron asked, his brow furled
in concentration.

"You prat! It says to take fern seeds," Harry grumbled.

"There are no such things as fern seeds…are there?"

"Powdered acorns…that's what it is…see the accent on the second glaviel?"

"How could I have missed that?" Ron answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Harry
smacked him but chuckled all the same.

Hermione shook her head in mock disbelief and turned down another corridor of
books. The entire area of the Restricted Section reeked of ancient knowledge…
terrifying secrets were hidden here including the one she was desperately looking
for.

Something caught her eye and she kneeled down to pick up a tattered book that
looked as if it had been used as a Bludger.

"Troll Magic Primer," she read quietly and she could feel the goosebumps jump
up along her arms. She began leafing through the pages studiously, even though she
had every intention of signing the book out. She had a good relationship with
Madame Pince and did not think it would pose much of a problem.

As she read, she suddenly had the distinct impression of being watched. Looking
around quickly, she saw no one.

"I must be imagining things," she scolded herself and returned to her book.

She was about to head back to her friends when she heard the sudden shuffling of
feet and the sound of a book dropping. Hurrying down the corridor and turning a
corner, she suddenly found herself face to face with a pair of grey eyes she knew
only too well.

He placed a finger on her lips as if to tell her not to speak. She didn't say a word
although she felt as if he could hear the noise of her heart pounding.

"I had to see you," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair in a way that
made the previous goosebumps seem like mere pretenders. She shivered from the
contact.

"I saw…tonight…the letter," she confessed, placing a hand shyly on his chest, feeling
the tumultuous beating of his heart.

"It is so hard…so little time left. Don't…"

He looked as if he was going to say something else but choked on the words.
Instead, he pulled her into a gentle embrace and kissed her. Hermione clutched
at him, fearing somehow that she was losing him even before she had the chance
to win him back. She kissed him with everything she had, hoping it would be
enough.

He pulled away and had a sad smile on his face.

"Don't what?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Don't hate me…after. If it comes to that…you will know what you have to do," he
whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You already know the answer to that. Do you love me?"

"Yes," Hermione said, without reservation.

"Then you know what you will have to do."

He turned to go but Hermione grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "Do
you love me?" She asked.

Draco kissed her again. "That is my answer."

And then, he was gone and Hermione was left in the corridor, clutching her book
and staring at the spot where he had been standing only moments before.

"He loves me," she thought.

Quickly recovering, she hurried over to her friends and methodically took notes on
her book until it was almost ten o'clock. Harry and Ron had managed to translate the
important sections of the Mermish text and carried that parchment with them as the
three friends made their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"All this work has made me hungry. How about if Ron and I scrounge up some food
from the kitchens and we will bring it out to you? Professor Snape can have a bite too,
if he likes," Harry asked as his stomach growled in agreement.

"Snape probably only drinks blood," Ron grumbled.

"No, I have it on good authority that he prefers the fluid extracted from the spleens
of unruly Weasleys," teased Harry.

"Well, now that I have lost my appetite, Harry, I suppose I will come with you and
see what the house elves can put together for you," Ron said in an exasperated tone
as Harry chuckled.

"We'll be on the pitch in about five minutes, Hermione," Harry said, handing her the
parchment of translations. "Can I get you anything?"

"Pumpkin juice and a sticky bun would be nice."

"Consider it done," Ron bowed as both he and Harry rushed down the hallways.

Hermione smiled indulgently and tucked the parchments into a pocket, before
turning to walk towards the door that led outside. Throwing on her warm cloak,
she opened the door and stepped outside.

"It's a lovely night," she thought as she hurried towards the pitch.

As she got closer, she noticed a dark figure standing at one end, waving a wand in
a most curious manner. At first, she could not see what the figure was doing but, as
she neared, she saw that a glowing green cube was weaving expertly in, out and
around the three Quaffle hoops. The sound of her approaching footsteps caused the
figure to turn to her.

"What are you doing, Professor Snape?" she asked as he continued the strange
exercise.  She put her book down carefully on a nearby rock.

"Alastor Moody always stressed the importance of constant vigilance. I am simply
practicing wand technique. As Potions Master, I have little need for the sort of spell
casting that is so rampant in these parts. However, if I do not practice every so
often, the technique gets rusty and that is simply unacceptable, especially in these
troubled times."

"Is it difficult?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Try it for yourself and decide," he answered softly.

She realized that this was part of the practice and set her teeth in determination. She
quickly conjured up a ball of her bluebell fire and, with an expert flick of her wrist,
started moving it in the same complicated pattern as Professor Snape had done.

"Now, try changing the colour of the flames while continuing that pattern," he changed
his glowing green cube into a flaming red one. Hermione, not losing a beat, changed her
bluebell fire into silver and green.

"How appropriate, Miss Granger," Professor Snape chuckled. "Increase the speed
as much as you can…concentrate on nothing else."

Hermione moved the ball of flames faster and faster. She could feel the beads of sweat
forming on her forehead but made no motion to wipe them away. The ball of flames
moved more quickly, zipping in the predetermined pattern again and again and again
until it was almost a solid line of silver and green flashing through the night sky.

"Excellent, Miss Granger," Professor Snape's voice snapped her back to the present
and she trembled slightly from the effort.

"Was that all right?" She asked as the bluebell fire extinguished with a small popping
sound.

"That was quite remarkable, Miss Granger." He replied, nodding in approval.

Hermione blushed at the compliment. It really was high praise from the overgrown
bat, as Ron would say in his most polite way.

"Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Granger," he answered as he caused the cube to disappear.

"Thank you for helping me. I just want you to know that…well…I really do appreciate it."

He turned to her and smiled slightly…it gave his face an odd appearance, as if, unlike his
wand technique, he had failed to practice periodically.

Ron and Harry soon appeared, bringing a pannier full of refreshments. Apparently, the
house elves were not particularly busy and this was their idea of a small snack.

Hermione gulped down a glass of pumpkin juice quickly as she was rather parched.

"What do I do next?" She asked Professor Snape who shocked Ron by eating a small
cauldron cake and sipping at a glass of pumpkin juice.

"You will practice a cleansing spell. It is difficult but the benefit is that, if performed
properly on Mister Potter, it will make him feel much better."

"How is that?" Harry asked, munching on a sandwich.

"Performing the spell without the potion, difficult enough as it is, can ease a person's
insecurities…increase confidence. You could almost think of it as a banishment of
negative energy," Professor Snape replied, wiping the crumbs of the cauldron cake
from his slender fingers with a linen handkerchief.

"Maybe Percy got hit by that spell…it would explain his whole ego thing," Ron grumbled.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione moaned dramatically.

"Well, I'm ready to be banished," Harry said cheerfully as he wiped his mouth and took
a last drink of the pumpkin juice.

"A few years ago, I would have been only too happy to oblige," Professor Snape smirked.

"What changed that?" Harry asked.

"You changed, Mister Potter and…I suppose I changed as well."

Harry was about to reply but thought better of it. "Where do you want me to stand?"

"Over there by the hoops," Professor Snape pointed out. Harry walked over and stood,
arms crossed over his chest in an unconsciously defensive stance.

"Do not be too alarmed, Mister Potter," the Potions Master commented. "The spell will
not cause you pain."

Harry looked somewhat relieved.

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape began, as if he were teaching an everyday class.
"The most important aspects of this spell are the technique, as you will need to start
the spell with a complicated motion of the wrist, and the incantation. The technique
involves a few steps. Pretend you are about to draw the number eight at the middle.
Trace the upward loop with your wand slowly and then sweep quickly into the
downward loop, ending with a flick of the wrist. Keep the wrist soft and flexible…
that is the difficult part. Now, imagine that the figure eight is a keyhole. Spear the
intersecting point with your wand and that is when you begin the incantation. In
reality, you will be tracing this pattern on Mister Malfoy's chest, over his heart. For
now, we will practice the motion in the air."

Hermione ran through the motions in her mind and then traced it out in the air with
her wand, trying to visualize it exactly as Professor Snape had described it.

"That was very good. Loosen up your wrist. Here, let me assist you with that."
Professor Snape walked up behind Hermione and held her wrist as she traced the
pattern. "Concentrate on relaxing the wrist…make it as loose and supple as possible."

Hermione concentrated on where his fingers touched her wrists and forcibly relaxed
the tense muscles, noticing that the pattern was becoming more accurate.

"Now," he said, removing his hand and stepping away, "try it by yourself."

Hermione closed her eyes, thought for a moment, and traced the pattern effortlessly.

"Bloody brilliant, as usual," Ron said, in awe. Harry clapped his hands.

"That was very well done, Miss Granger," Professor Snape nodded. "Now, for the
incantation. At this point, you will have your wand pointed at Mister Malfoy's heart.
Purge your mind of all other thoughts except for this short incantation, which you
will repeat again and again as the Omniapurgalis does its work. You will say
 

Expurge corpe et animo te
Ablegate lemuribus malis
Per amorum meum ad virtuum revienes
Per amor meum mihi revienes
 

Hermione repeated the words a few times until she felt she had them memorized.

"I want to try casting the spell," she said firmly.

"All right," Professor Snape nodded. "Remember, first the figure-eight motion and
then, pointing directly at Mister Potter, recite the incantation. You only need to say
it a few times tonight to see if it has worked."

Harry straightened up as Ron looked on warily. Professor Snape stepped back and
steepled his fingers as he observed.

Hermione cleared her mind of her doubts and insecurities and thought not about her
friend, Harry, but of the other person for whom she was doing all this. She traced the
figure eight precisely, spearing the intersecting point flawlessly and pointing directly at
Harry.

"Expurge corpe et animo te…" she chanted the spell in a monotone voice, over and
over again. A warm golden glow emanated from her wand and quickly encircled Harry.

"Hey! It tickles!" Harry shouted, jumping up and down.

"You may stop now, Miss Granger."

The glow evaporated and Harry collapsed to the ground. Ron rushed over to him and
helped him back to a seated position.

"You all right, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment and smiled. "I know I will be able to defeat
Voldemort," he said emphatically.

Professor Snape turned to Hermione, who had gone white with fear that she had
not done the spell correctly.

"Excellent, Miss Granger," he said softly.
 
 
 

A/N:  I got the idea about the spleens from “Shrek”

A/N2:  The translation for the spell

Purify the body and the soul
I banish the evil nightmares from you
Through my love, you will return to goodness
Through my love, you will return to me

…thank you Lady Guinevere of Northgalis for the corrections!  Much appreciated!
 

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Chapter 11