Summary: This chapter is the reason why this whole series is rated PG13. Draco is finally getting somewhere, and
pays dearly for it. Harry isn't having too many laughs either.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No
money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Krum Do I Love?

by yael
 
 

Chapter 4
And Now, We Wait
 

Harry lay back, his eyes closed, and his breathing extremely irregular. Overanxious and terribly frightened, his heart
was racing at an incredible speed. He checked his forearm again to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him, but there
it was, etched with inflamed dark red - the Dark Mark. The symbol of all that was evil, of all that was wrong in the
world in general, and in Harry’s life in particular.

Harry’s eyes closed again, but the sign was reflecting from the inside of his closed eyelids. He didn’t want to doze
off, knowing that his usual streak of bad dreams would necessarily take a turn for the worse. Holding that thought,
he drifted into sleep.

Winter morning sun sent lukewarm rays onto Harry’s hospital bad, caressing his eyes, and waking him up. Harry
woke with a blissful smile. He slept for an almost full day without having to break his sleep because of nightmares.
As a matter of fact, he had really sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams were something Harry had never known before. Usually, when he dreamt, it was nightmares. Either
the kind that jolts you awake with a start and a need to change your sweat-drenched clothes, or just the type that
leaves you with a bad taste in the mouth. He occasionally had nice dreams, most likely about Quidditch, a trophy,
and often a sore-loser Malfoy. He even had really nice dreams, which had Ginny as a guest-star, but never, ever
had he experienced a sweet dream.

In his dream, it was summer. He was sitting in a meadow, the last droplets of dew evaporating around him.
He had a blanket spread beneath a shady tree, which was overflowing with silver-green leaves. His mother
was sitting by him, spreading jam on a slice of bread from a freshly baked loaf. Harry closed his eyes to
indulge himself on the bread’s strong aroma. When he opened them again, he saw his mother looking at him
with a loving smile, handing him the slice. Harry felt her smile engulf him as a warm blanket of serenity. He
turned his head lazily, and saw his father, slumbering with his back to the tree-trunk, his hair, just like
Harry’s, terribly dishevelled. They didn’t talk, they hardly even moved, and Harry wasn’t worried about
losing this moment, like he usually did when he dreamt of his parents. In his dream, Harry knew that this
little picnic was a regular thing.

Residue from his dream left Harry extremely high-spirited. As his mind slowly lost its sleepy haze, he was reminded
of the mark on his forearm. The unalloyed blissful feeling in was somewhat abated, but not entirely. There was still the
shadow of a smile on his lips when Ginny came into the room. His smile broadened as he saw her, and his eyes
sparkled happily.

"What are you so happy about?" Ginny asked, very excited to see Harry in good spirits after the events of the night
before.

"I just had a really good night’s sleep," said Harry dreamily.

"Oh." Ginny gave him a quizzical look.

She was so beautiful this morning. She was always pretty, but this morning everything seemed brighter, painted with
more vivid colours than ever. Harry pulled himself up to a sitting position and reached to touch Ginny’s cheek. The
sleeve of his hospital robes slid down, exposing the new mark on his forearm.

Harry took his hand down, a bolt of panic passing through him. Ginny seemed too busy looking at his face to notice
his arm. Harry relaxed, and let the blissful sensation spread its warm wings over him again. But Ginny saw something
different flicker in his eyes.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, her voice quivering with worry.

The word ‘no’ almost passed Harry’s lips, but then he reconsidered. This was actually a very good explanation.
"Yes," he answered, giving a show of bravely handling his injury.

Ginny’s frown deepened. "I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey."

"No need," he said hurriedly. "I’ll be fine." These words added veneration to the way Ginny regarded him, and Harry
was abruptly reminded of what it was that bothered him about his relationship with her. "I’d like to be alone," he told
her. He turned to lie on his side, his back turned to her.

Ginny stroked his hair, his shoulders and his back. Her touch was like the warm caress of the sun in the summer – pleasant, yet burning. Harry made an effort not to shiver as her hand moved over his body. When she got no
response, Ginny kissed him gently behind his ear. "I’ll check with you later," she whispered and left.

Harry spent the entire morning reliving the dream he had had. To his mental command, he could feel his mother’s
touch, see his father’s tranquil face, smell the recently cut grass and the freshly baked bread. He never felt so happy
in his life. This was almost as peaceful as being under the Imperius Curse, only the dream felt much more real.

The sunrays that shone such clever white in the morning had begun their slow transition towards bright twilight orange,
and then heavy crimson. The fluffy, silvery clouds that had covered the sky during the day became more threatening
dark grey, exposing bits of indigo sky between them.

Harry watched the changeover outside the infirmary window, his calm mind absorbing and accepting the sights.
Ginny showed up sometime during the day, carrying his favourite dinner pudding, but Harry pretended to be sleeping.
She placed the plate on his nightstand, let her lips flutter on his cheek, and left again, not to return that day.

For the first time since the end of the Triwizard tournament, Harry waited for sleep to take over him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry jumped out of bed with the first light of the new day. The sweet dreams had returned, but they no longer
entranced Harry. Just made him extremely happy.

In one of theses dreams, Harry was riding his Firebolt high above the abundant tree and the picnic blanket resting in its shadow. The tree’ dark green leaves were just a blur at the edge of his vision, and the silver
sparkle they spread seemed to fill the light green meadow over which Harry flew.

His father was flying on another Firebolt beside him, scanning the field. They were both searching for a
Snitch they had released earlier. They both spotted it simultaneously, and soared through the air, each trying
to reach it first. Their hands closed on the same spot at exactly the same moment, their fingers intertwining,
but the Snitch was gone. They laughed and tried to see where the Snitch had escaped to, but neither took his
hand out of the other’s grip. In his dream, Harry knew that this was not the first time they had played, and
neither was it the last.

When Harry woke, he remembered the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw that was scheduled for shortly after
Christmas. He checked his watch. At first it said ‘too early, go back to sleep’, but after Harry threatened to throw
it into a cauldron full of suspicious-looking potion that stood there, it agreed to show the Muggle time. Tuesday, six
AM. The Quidditch field was registered for a Ravenclaw practice that day, but surely they wouldn’t be there before
breakfast.

Harry sneaked out of the infirmary and climbed to the Gryffindor tower. He slipped into his dormitory, careful not to
wake the other boys, who were fast asleep. He changed to his Quidditch robes, took his broom and bag of practice
balls, and slipped out to the common room.

Harry spent only a moment in the common room, arranging his things more comfortably. Walking quickly, he passed
the entrance hall, out the oak doors and off to the Quidditch field. A slight shiver passed through his spine when he
descended the great stone stairs, this time going down in a conventional speed.

To his surprise, the Quidditch field was not empty. Two people were on it, but they weren’t in the blue and bronze
robes of the Ravenclaw team. From the distance, he could see a blur of one airy burgundy robe and one heavy black
cloak spinning around one another in a strange looking dance.

Getting closer to them, Harry recognised Krum and Hermione walking across the Quidditch field, holding hands, and
constantly switching places. Krum made a genuine effort to keep part of his cloak over Hermione’s shoulders. They
were so absorbed is this little world of theirs, that they hadn’t notice Harry approaching.

Standing only few feet away from them, Harry cleared his throat.

Hermione raised her eyes to him, first startled, and then, as she recognised him, with a visible attempt to stifle a laugh.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "How are you? What are you doing out of bed?" Her gaze turned more serious, "you
shouldn’t be out here, come on, we’ll take you back to the infirmary." She placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"I’m fine," Harry protested. "I came here to practice some snitch captures before the field is seized by the
Ravenclaws." He watched her carefully, seeking her approval. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea. "What
are you two doing here so early?"

"Oh," Hermione gasped, and unsuccessfully tried to catch Krum’s eyes. "We overdid a wakefulness charm."

"You mean you’ve been here since last night?"

"Er... yes." Krum spoke for the first time. He also seemed to want the subject changed. "I’m still not tired. Do you
vant to practice together?"

"Sure," said Harry. His quickly agreed out of politeness, but afterwards he realised the advantages of practising with
the world’s best Seeker. Having Krum fly high above Hermione also seemed like a good idea. "I’d be honoured," he
repeated with a broad smile.

"Vait for me," said Krum, already moving towards the castle. "I vill be bringing my broom, and then ve practice." He
didn’t wait for a reply before rushing away from them.

For the first time in a week, Harry was left alone with Hermione. He looked at her, trying to see if the change inside
her, the one that Krum brought, had left any signs on her appearance. It had. She looked more mature, holding herself
with more confidence. Her eyes looked at him from a higher point than he was used to. Was it just him, or was it the
fact that she wasn’t immersed in a book?

"We miss you," he said quietly.

"Who’s we?" she shifted her weight uncomfortably from leg to the other.

"Me. Ron. Everyone in Gryffindor. You seem to spend most of your time with the Slytherins nowadays." He turned
his back to her, pretending to look towards the castle. Strong emotions surfaced in him – longing, worry, jealousy. He
didn’t want her to see his emotions, clearly visible on his face.

Hermione watched Harry’s wide back. She was thrown into the memory of his older self, the one she saw in Potions
class. She suddenly realised why it was that Malfoy’s robes were torn while Harry’s remained intact. His shoulders
were just as wide as they were under the influence of the potion. He just held them slumped, like folded dragon wings,
waiting for the right moment to spread out.

She put a trembling right hand on his left shoulder. "I’m just trying to savour every moment I have with Viktor. He will
be gone soon, and then I will have all the time in the world to be with you."

He turned to look at her, his face a reflection of abysmal anguish only inches away from hers. "Are you sure this is
what you want?"

She was startled by the unknown depth in his emerald eyes, but felt unable to draw back. She lowered her head in
an allusive nod.

"I hope you know what you’re doing." He walked away from her to greet the returning Krum.

"Me too," she muttered under her breath, thinking he was out of hearing range.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Krum released a Snitch, and with the slightest nod towards Harry, mounted his racing broom and kicked into the
air. Harry saw the gesture, and kicked off as well. They both circled high above the Quidditch field, their eyes
searching the Snitch.

The first to spot something was Krum. Very decisively, he pointed the handle of his broom directly down, and went
into a high-speed dive. Harry plunged right behind him, leaning against his broom in an attempt to gather more speed.
The wind whistled in his ears and blew into his eyes, swirling around the lenses of his glasses. The wind made it very
difficult to see. In fact, so difficult, that as much as Harry tried, he could not see the Snitch.

The ground was getting nearer, and he still could see nothing. He extended his hand in the same direction as Krum
did, hoping that by some miracle, his hand would meet the Snitch first. Two feet above the ground, Harry realised
that there was no Snitch. For the first time in his life, he fell victim to the Wronski Feint.

He pulled hard on the broom’s handle, reversing its one-way plunge by 180 degrees. The broom creaked under the
stress of the sharp turn. His whole body cried in protest, wanting to continue with the original momentum. Harry felt
the ground getting closer still. He folded his knees to his chest, sitting high on top the broom, his hands gripping the
handle firmly, pointing it up. His feet scraped the snow, raising a cloud of ice dust as he passed the lower point of his
dive and started rising. He could see that Krum pulled out of the dive a few feet higher, and was now almost back to
his original position, circling the pitch.

The Snitch, however, was now visible. It was hanging only a few feet above Harry’s head. Krum, who was still
climbing to his favourite height, had no chance to get it first. Leisurely, Harry steered his broom to it, his right hand
stretched out. A second later, the Snitch was safely clasped in his unwavering fist. Krum had reached the peak of his
climb and looked down both to search the Snitch, and to see how Harry was doing. He got both answers with one
glimpse of Harry’s outstretched hand.

Both Seekers started flying towards one another, meeting somewhere in the middle.

"Very good," said Krum. "I underestimated you. Not many professional Seekers vould have been able to get out of
that Feint." He gave Harry an appraising look. "You vant to try again?"

Harry let go of the Snitch as a reply. Immediately it was gone from their sight, celebrating its regained freedom. Both
Seekers soared high above the pitch, back to their searches for it.

Very arrogantly, a few minutes later, Harry tried the Wronski Feint on Krum. Naturally, it didn’t work, and at the end
of the drill, Harry was left to work hard on stabilising his broom, while Krum made a swift move on the reappearing
Snitch. They released it again, and again and again.

After each of them got the Snitch three times, Harry spotted the blue and bronze uniform of the Ravenclaw team
walking towards the pitch. He pointed them out to Krum, and gave him the signal to get down. They both landed in
front of the Ravenclaw team, which was missing a few members due to the Christmas vacation.

"Getting lessons from the best, aye, Harry?" Cho Chang smiled at him. "Not fair!"

"Just getting an early start before you get the field for the day."

"I vill have much fun practicing with you too," Krum assured her. "Just let me get some breakfast. I vill be back soon."
He looked at Cho’s slowly relenting expression. "You can ride my broom until I return." This had the desirable effect.
Cho accepted the Firebolt with shaky hands, and immediately turned away as not to waste any moment she had with
this first-class racing broom.

Hermione, Krum and Harry turned towards the castle. "I hope the Snitch ve left there vill not get Cho confused."
Krum mused loudly.

"There’s no Snitch up there," said Harry, bewildered. "When we got down, I summoned it." He showed Krum the
Snitch in his hand.

"Summoned it?" asked Krum, confused. "But I didn’t see you use your wand."

"No need to. This is a practice Snitch. When you’re done practising, you can just call it back. Very effective, especially
if you’re having a bad day, or you want to train someone who is... less than perfect."

"But this isn’t a practice Snitch."

"Of course it is. All the balls in the bag are practice balls. I got them and the bag from Oliver Wood when he
graduated."

"But I didn’t take the Snitch from your bag. I haff brought my own Snitch. And it does not haff this ‘summon’ spell
you talk about."

Harry stopped dead in the place and looked at the Snitch, still fluttering against his strong grip. He opened his bag
and fumbled in it. A moment later, he pulled out a second Snitch, securely tied in thin golden threads. "But... there
must be a summoning spell on this Snitch," he stammered. "I called it..."

"No spell," insisted Krum. "This is an official international league Snitch. It vos tested for any illegal hexes and spells.
I vould say that a summoning spell is certainly in that category."

Harry resumed his walk, shaking his head. He could feel Hermione’s and Krum’s stares in his back, and ignored
them. There must have been something wrong with that Snitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many Slytherins escorted Krum from the Great Hall to the Quidditch field. They all wanted the chance to watch
his performances from up close. Cho seemed almost disappointed to see him return, but the potential of having him
train her overcame her reluctance to give him back his broom.

Krum seemed to be more lenient with her than he was with Harry. He pulled the Wronski Feint on her as well, but
pulled out long before there was any danger that she would hit the ground. Still, the deception worked well, leaving
her in serious trouble.

Time after time Krum got the Snitch, every time flying by Cho’s side afterwards for several minutes, trying to teach
her what she did wrong. She seemed very eager to learn, and took no offence in losing to Krum over and over again.
She knew there was no shame in losing to the world’s greatest Seeker, especially when he was mounted on a
Firebolt. Krum on his side, made any effort not to make her look bad, and to really teach her a few good moves for
the upcoming Quidditch event.

Hermione watched the teaching session sitting some distance away from the cheering Slytherins. She experienced a
mixture of deep boredom and the beginning of a lingering fatigue from the white night. She never could understand
what everyone else saw in Quidditch, although she had to admit that both Viktor and Harry looked very graceful
riding their brooms. She made a visible effort to stifle a yawn.

"Oh, that tortured face! Feeling pangs of jealousy watching your boyfriend fly with another girl?" The chilly voice of
Malfoy sounded so close to her ear that it sent cold shivers down her spine.

She decided to ignore him. After all, Viktor wasn’t there. She had no reason to be nice to a Slytherin. Her tensing
body was a clear enough response for Malfoy.

"Right on the spot, wasn’t I?" he mocked. Standing behind her, he placed both hands on her shoulders, bent his head
down, and whispered the words from a range much too close for Hermione’s taste.

She turned sharply, pulling away from his grip. "That’s none of your business, Malfoy." Her eyes shot dangerous
sparks at him.

"Oh my, I just did something I very rarely do."

"What’s that?" she asked, too curious for her own good.

"I made a mistake. Very rare event indeed. You might want to treasure the moment, you’re unlikely to ever this
happen again." He watched her puzzled scowl with amusement. "You - jealous of Cho. I was wrong. You couldn’t
care less. In fact, I don’t think that you even love him."

"That’s absurd!" her cheeks were flushed, and her voice higher than she had intended. She truly hoped that her angry
glare concealed her fret that he might be right.

"Is it?" He closed on her with one stride. Without further warning, he held her in his arms and kissed her. This was
not a passionate, warm kiss like the ones she shared with Viktor. On the contrary. This was more like a cold assault
on her lips.

Her mind swarmed with zealous outcries, but her body obstinately refused to move. She felt a huge Filibuster
Firework quivering deep inside her stomach. That firework pulled her deep into the icy whirlpool that was centred
in his lips. Force she never knew before held he lips pressed against his, her eyes first open in horror, and then
slowly closing as she sank deeper into the unyielding press.

Out of a dream, she felt their lips separate, his hands still grabbing her upper arms. Reality crashed on her with all its
horrid ugliness. This was Malfoy who held her a moment ago. She felt as if she forced an ice cube down her throat.
A white-hot rage surged inside her, concentrating itself into her right arm, which rose on its own volition, slapping
Malfoy hard across the face.

His reaction was swift and cruel - he kissed her again. His lips pressed even harder against hers, forcing them to open.
His tongue, hard and cold, explored the depth of her mouth, sending that unrelenting Filibuster Firework in her stomach
through a whole new set of somersaults. Feeling her resistance shatter, she wondered if he had chewed on a snowball
earlier.

A whistle above their heads made Draco finally let go of her. He only had a glimpse of something large and black before
it hit him with all the speed a Firebolt could build. Draco was flung twelve feet back into the empty stadium stands and
slid down to the ground. The black figure turned on the spot, and landed by Hermione.

"Are you all right?" Viktor asked, supporting her faint figure in a bear hug.

Hermione nodded, still too shocked to speak. She drew a deep breath, and then another. The cold air did nothing to wash away the seal of his touch on her. "I think I need a shower," she said in a small, hoarse voice. She dared a glimpse
in Malfoy’s direction, and shuddered, not by his condition, but by the fear of what he was able to stir up in her.

"We need to get him to the hospital wing."

"After vat he did to you? He can stay here!"

"He will die in this cold."

"He deserves it."

Hermione stared at her love as if seeing him for the first time. The cruel look in his black eyes indicated that he actually
meant what he had just said. "You can’t mean that," she said, hoping that it was the truth.

His harsh look softened just slightly, allowing his bushy brows to move slightly apart. He turned to Malfoy. With an
ungraceful hoist he hurled Malfoy’s unconscious body over his broom, and ushered it towards the castle. He paid more
attention to his left arm, wrapped around Hermione’s waist than to his broom-navigating right hand. This led the broom,
and Malfoy on it, to bump into practically anything that was on the way to the castle, including the great oak doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yellow-green fire roared in the tall silver grate. Magic made sure that the twisting silver frame was not as much as
singed by the flames. The tall pale figure that stood by the fireplace should have been flushed by the heat coming out
of it, but not even the slightest pink tinge was visible on his yellow serpentine face. It stared in concentration into the
flames, something like a smile decorating the otherwise intimidating expression.

"Master, there are still no news about the boy."

The tall figure turned towards the voice, his raven-black robes swirling to match the swift motion.

"I know."

The hissing voice was hardly audible. It skipped the necessity of going through the ears, and carved itself right into the
back of the minion’s head. The crouched minion raised his head in surprise.

"My Lord, is this a good thing?"

"It is."

"But Master..." his voice trailed off, his words slashed under the piercing red eyes of his master.

"He simmers now. Slowly drifting towards us. We will make the news known when the time is right."

"Yes Master."

His master turned back to face the fire, his moves slower, more calculated. A large snake uncoiled itself from the
darkened corner of two huge shadowy walls. It slithered to its master’s feet, hissing as it wrapped itself before his legs.

"Yes, Nagini," hissed Voldemort. "I’m glad that you no longer need to go hungry." He seemed to contemplate on something. "Yes," he added. "He will be quite an acquisition to our side."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If you’re not out of bed in five minutes I’m going without you," Ginny’s voice teased Harry.

He opened one emerald eye and peeped at her. She was already fully dressed in light blue robes, ready to go. Her
red hair was tied in a bun above her nape, unable to hold all her perky curls. He felt torn between his desire to stay in
the world of his sweet dreams, and wanting to go with her to have a no less rapturous day at Hogsmeade.

Ginny felt completely free to walk into the boys’ dormitory. The others had left for the duration of the Christmas
vacation, and the room was now occupied only by her boyfriend and her brother, both too embarrassed to send her
off.

"What time are we supposed to be in The Three Broomsticks?" Harry groaned as he sat up in bed.

"Fred and George said they’d be there at eleven."

"We have hours!"

"Well, I’ve got some shopping to do first."

Harry frowned. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a wonderful Hogsmeade visit day after all.

"I need to get lots of Filibuster Fireworks and firecrackers for our victory party when we beat Ravenclaw."

Than again, maybe it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ginny, are you sure you’re not overdoing it just a bit?"

Harry never saw so many exploding tricks put together in his life. He and Ron raided Zonko's along with Ginny, but
she had filled two large bags just with the fireworks, and had another small bag with tricks she refused t share with
them.

"No. This is going to be our first celebration without Fred and George, and I intend to make sure we’re going to do it
right."

"Even your twin brothers never carried this amount of explosives. One misguided drop of water and the whole of Gryffindor tower will rise sky high! Anyway, you were always the voice of reason in your family. What happened?"

"I kinda miss them..."

Harry couldn’t help himself as he saw her sweet pout. He had to collect her in his arms.

"Will you two knock it off?" Ron tried to break the embrace.

"Give your kid sister a break, she’s having a sentimental moment."

"Yes Ron, a sentimental moment," repeated Ginny with a wicked smile, burying her head deeper in Harry’s chest.
His strong and steady heartbeat made her want to stay in his arms just a while longer. Just one more beat... and then
one more...

"Oh, look at the time," said Ron loudly. They moved apart, looking at their watches, and then realising they really did
need to get going.

They reached The Three Broomsticks before the twins. Ginny went to preserve a table for them, while Ron and
Harry got Butterbeer for everyone, including the twins. Ginny looked nervous waiting for her brothers to arrive. She
kept rearranging their bottles and moving all other things around the table.

All three jumped out of their seats as Fred and George appeared, escorted by Lee Jordan. Ginny hugged them
fiercely, while Ron shook their hands with self-esteem. At that particular moment, Harry mused that he looked just
like Percy. Nonetheless, he felt awkward hugging them, and shook their hands a well.

"I’m sorry, Lee," apologised Harry. "We didn’t know you were coming. We didn’t get a drink for you."

"That’s ok, I’ll get one myself. Anyone for a second round?"

"Not yet, thanks."

"Me neither."

Ginny was too busy with the brothers’ sitting arrangements to even hear the question. She handed each of her
brothers a bottle, and waited.

"So, how’s the shop coming along?" asked Harry. It was the money he had given them that allowed them to start
the shop in Diagon Alley.

"Grrrr..." Fred tried to say something, but all that came out were baby mumbles.

George pointed at him laughing. "Aaabbooo," he tried to voice his delight, but could speak no better than his twin.
This made Fred snap out of his shock and join the laughter.

"Ginny!" exclaimed Ron. "Did you put something in their Butterbeer?"

"Sure," laughed Ginny.

"Way to go, Gin!" Lee Jordan encouraged her. He just got back, carrying his bottle. "I’m glad you didn’t get my
drink after all."

Ron paled as the idea penetrated through his red hair. "Ginny, you didn’t put anything in our drinks, did you?"

"Oh no, just in Fred’s and George’s. A tiny payback for the last fifteen years."

Still laughing, George pointed his wand to his own head, trying to finish the spell. Instead of "Finite Incantatem" he
managed "Fifff ffmmmm". Consequently, instead of removing the mumbling spell, he managed to win himself brand
new rabbit ears.

Fred cracked up laughing. George looked at him annoyed, fondling his new fluffy white addition. Then, he pointed
his wand at Fred, and got him a matching pair. They both laughed so hard, that they tried to get off their chairs, to
avoid later abdominal cramps, only to discover that they couldn’t get up. With hand motions they signalled their
distress to the rest of the cheering group.

"Ginny, did you do something to their chairs as well?" Harry asked between the howls of laughter.

"Nothing much. Just covered it with invisible liquid Spellotape," Ginny tried to suppress her sniggers.

"So that’s what you had in the bag at Zonko’s!" called Ron. He looked at her very seriously. "Little sister," he said
solemnly, "I never knew you had it in you."

The group was washed into another gale of laughter.

It took them all a while to relax after removing the spells from the twins, but once they did, Ginny and Lee led the conversation around the table to the subject of internal decoration. Lee had just got himself a new apartment, and
was very interested in Ginny’s opinion on how he should furnish it.

"Er... we need to go," stated Fred. "We have a meeting at Zonko’s about supplying pranks to his store."

"Yes!" George agreed. "And we only have two hours to get there."

"And it’s hundreds of... inches away," concluded Fred.

"Well, bye, good luck with the... er... sideboard and wall-unit." They both slid out of the bar, not before glaring at
Ginny in a way that meant, "We’ll get you, yet."

"Ron, how about roaming Honeydukes?" Harry suggested.

"Great idea!" agreed Ron. "Anything but listening to those two," he added in a whisper.

"Ginny?" Harry interjected Ginny’s flow. "Should we come back to pick you up?"

Ginny looked from Lee to Harry and back. "No need," Lee answered for her. "I’ll get her back to Hogwarts." By
the way Ginny’s shoulders lost their tension, it seemed that she agreed with that idea.

Ron and Harry got their pockets full of Fizzing Whizbees, sugar quills and chocolate frogs, both wisely avoiding
Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. They got back to Hogwarts and sat in the common room, stuffing themselves
with their new acquired sweets and playing wizarding chess, to the great annoyance of Harry’s pawns.

"Shouldn’t Ginny be back by now?" Harry asked, looking through the tower windows as the dusk taking over the
vast grounds outside. With the words still hanging on his lips, the portrait hole opened. In came Ginny, followed by
Lee. They were both smiling happily.

"Hi Ron, hi Harry."

"Hi, where have you two been? It’s been hours since we left you at The Three Broomsticks."

Harry reached for Ginny with intention to kiss her hello, but missed her as she hastily hopped towards the stairs. She
waved Lee to sit and shouted over her shoulder, "I’ll be right back!"

Harry turned to Lee, who was watching Ginny disappear up the stairs, a strange vale in front of his eyes.

"We went to look at some linen at Tela’s," he answered. He didn’t take his eyes away from the entrance to the girls’
dormitories until Ginny appeared there, carrying a pile of colourful fabrics. Then, he jumped into one of the overstuffed
armchair that filled the common room, trying to look as if he’d been sitting there for a while. He realised that Ron and
Harry witnessed his strange behaviours, and blushed deep crimson.

Lucky for him, Ginny’s face was hidden behind the pile of fabrics, and she missed the entire charade. Her leg got
tangled in a stray ribbon, and the entire heap tilted dangerously. "Can you give me a hand?" she called, her voice
muffled by the cloths.

Before Harry or Ron had a chance to react, Lee jumped out of his very new sitting place and took the pile off her
hands. Soon after, half the common room, which was usually occupied by Hermione’s books, was now covered with
colourful fabrics. The common room was taken over by spots, plaids, frills and loose lint. Ron and Harry exchanged
terrified looks and dashed towards their dormitory, taking the relieved chess set with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nibbling on her breakfast on the last day of Christmas vacation, Hermione pondered about the hours of work she
had missed by spending time with Viktor. Naturally, she wasn’t behind on her work, and thanks to Viktor’s help, her
homework was done on the very first day of the vacation, but she was used to being more than just ‘up to speed’.

The Slytherin table was half-deserted. It was the same for several days, since Malfoy was injured. He was still in the
hospital wing, and while the Slytherins didn’t openly blame her, she could feel the chill blowing her way. They didn’t
know all the details of the incident. They just knew that Viktor had hit Malfoy after Malfoy attacked Hermione in
some way. There was no change in their attitude towards Viktor. He enjoyed their perpetual awe and respect.

"Can I steal your boyfriend for a few hours?" Cho’s chiming voice stopped Hermione’s train of thoughts. She raised
her head in surprise. Very rarely did a non-Slytherin approach this table. But then again, she was there. Viktor had
helped Cho with her game several times the past few days, and Cho was grateful, but still needed lots of work.

"Do you mind if I go to the library while you play?" she asked Viktor, clinging to his arm.

"Of course, my love. Go ahead. I vill come get you ven ve are done."

Hermione left her plate almost untouched, and hurried to make full use of the few hours she had in the library, almost
forgetting to kiss Viktor goodbye as she went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dim library was completely deserted. Hermione spilled the content of her bag on an isolated table, and went to
get some books. She returned a half-hour later with a pile almost as tall as she, feeling her way back to the table. She
sat with the books, reading, and from time to time scrabbling something on the piece of parchment in front of her.

She didn’t know how long it had been before she heard the library door open. She found herself wishing this wasn’t
Viktor. She needed just a little more time with her books. When she saw the boy who came in, she started wishing it
had been Viktor after all.

Draco Malfoy stepped inside, totally oblivious to her presence there. His face looked like the whitest canvas, on which
an angry painter placed smears of all colours from dark yellow through deep purple and up to total black. Hermione
wanted to get out immediately, but so far she had been indiscernible in her corner table. If she got up, she would get
his attention.

Malfoy, still seemingly unaware of the storm he was stirring, plunked a single book off a shelf, and sat down reading it.
He tried to lean his head on his hand, but winced in pain as the heel of his hand touched one of the larger purple marks.

"What are you staring at?" he spat at Hermione.

Malfoy had given no sign of having seen her so far, and his abrupt statement took her breath away. She also wasn’t
aware that she had been staring. "I’m not going to tell you that I’m sorry, if that’s what you’re expecting."

"I wasn’t expecting an apology."

"Good. You deserved what you got and more."

"As I recall, you didn’t exactly resist." He got up and began advancing towards her. His eyes a mixture of cold rage
and warm passion, flashing steel-grey and summer-sky-blue at the same time.

She also got up, drawing away from him. "I was too petrified to move," she lied. Her back hit the bookshelves, and
she turned, trying to escape.

He closed on her before she had a chance to move. "It’s all your fault, Hermione!" he shouted, and then lowered his
voice to an almost inaudible whisper, his lips an inch away from her ear. "You’re the one who made me fall in love
with a Mudblood."

She felt a shiver. His breath was cold on her neck. "Is that the best come-on line you can make up?"

"You think this is funny?" his voice was almost a soft whine. "I’m sworn to hate you, and I... can’t."

"What do you mean ‘sworn to hate me’?"

He drew back a foot, still standing close to her. With a crude motion he peeled away his right sleeve and showed
her what hid beneath it. It was a skull. And a snake. Crawling out of its mouth. All drawn in angry red against his
nearly translucent skin. Hermione let out a small scream, and then recovered. She looked up, only to see the steel
taking over the summer in his eyes.

"Did you paint this on your hand?"

"No." He paused to examine her reaction. "It is not something you can wash away with soap."

"Are you a de... A Death..."

"A Death Eater? Let’s say I’m a very likely candidate. This really doesn’t go well together." There was fathomless
sadness in his voice.

He looked so lost that she completely forgot herself. Her mind chose to ignore the menacing red sign in front of her,
and focus on his eyes. A small war seemed to take place in there – a tidal wave of gushing blue water attacking an
unwavering cliff of ice.

He placed both his hands on her upper arms, pulling her closer, away from the shelves. She felt her chin rising to let
her lips meet his. It was like a giant hand guided her movements. She could feel his cold breath against her face, feel
his pounding heart, running a race against her own. In his eyes, the gushing water seemed to get the upper hand -

The door to the library opened again, and this time it was Viktor. Malfoy turned to face him, smoothing his sleeve back
to place.

"Is he bothering you again?" Viktor asked, having narrowed the gap between them in two seconds. He held the front
of Malfoy’s robes, his fist ready to be used.

Hermione hesitated for a moment. "No," she said. "He just wanted to apologise."

Viktor let go of Malfoy’s robes. "Did you?" he asked incredulously.

With a very arrogant air, Malfoy straightened his robes, took his single book, and left the library without saying a word.
Viktor kept a constant eye on him until the door closed behind his back.

"Are you sure you’re all right?"

Hermione nodded, wondering if she had imagined the last few minutes. But she could still feel his breath, chilly and
very much real against her skin. More real than anything in this room right now. She would definitely need another
shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first day of winter term was marked by students returning to the castle, carrying new items they got as Christmas
gifts, and running around like crazy, trying to readjust to the Hogwarts pace.

The very first lesson of the term was Care of Magical Creatures. As they walked outside the castle, Harry noticed
that any affection that might have existed between Hermione and the Slytherins disappeared the moment Krum was
not around. The change in her, if any, seemed to make her even more hostile towards Malfoy than ever.

"You think we’ll have to care for the Blast Ended Skrewts again?" Ron voiced Harry’s concerns. During the first
term, they learned about dragons, which, for obvious reasons, was only a theoretical study. At the end of term, Hagrid
promised them more practical lessons when they come back from the holiday leave.

"Can’t be," Harry tried to convince both of them. "There’s only one Blast Ended Skrewt left."

"Yes, but that one is enough work for all of us."

True, thought Harry. That Skrewt was held in a special pen near Hagrid’s pumpkin beds behind his cabin. It was
already over twenty feet long, and kept growing at an alarming rate. Still, none of them could figure what it was feeding
on.

Hagrid radiated joy at the sight of his favourite trio. "Come, come," he greeted them. "Today I have a special treat for
you."

"Oh no, I know Hagrid’s ‘special treats’," Harry heard Malfoy sneer behind him. "He probably got us a live
Norwegian Ridgeback." He slapped Crabbe and Goyle on their backs, casually pushing them in front of him. "He’ll
probably call it ‘cute’," he continued his jeer.

Harry and Ron exchanged worried glances. "Neh," Ron dismissed Malfoy’s idea. Harry nodded his agreement.

"The magical creatures I will present to ye today are truly among the mos’ magnificen’ creatures in existence," Hagrid
started his presentation. "They posses the mos’ magical bodies among the small creatures..."

Sighs of relief could be heard all throughout the grounds around Hagrid’s cabin.

Hagrid pulled a large cage with something brown moving on its floor. "These are not called ‘Miniature Dragons’ fer
nothin’," he said, looking fondly into the cage.

Lavender brown released a scream of terror, and Pansy Parkinson simply fainted without making a sound. All the
other kids backed away.

"Hagrid," Hermione began to talk to him using the same patient, quivering tone people use to negotiate armed
terrorists, "Those are roaches in that cage. Hundreds of roaches."

"Magical Creatures, Subdivision Dictyoptera Order Blattaria," corrected her Hagrid.

"Cockroaches," stated Malfoy persistently.

"In other words."

"What are we supposed to do with them?"

Hagrid opened the cage and released them to the sound of shrieks and legs shuffling on the snow to get away.
"Yer supposed te observe how difficult it is ter capture them using magic. Their shells are almos’ as reflective and
impenetrable as dragon hide." He looked benignly at the brown spots on the snow, scramming away from him.
"Be careful with the spells ye use. Don’ use anythin’ ye’ll regret if it bounces back."

The fifth-years spread out in an attempt to catch as many of the gross brown creatures as they could. Very shortly,
they saw Hagrid’s point about their shells. Within thirty seconds, half the Slytherins were stupefied by their own spells,
which bounced back at them, while the Gryffindors, who tried the more moderate methods first, where moving in very slow motion.

Harry noticed that the spells didn’t necessarily bounced to their sender. He pointed that out to Ron, who immediately
saw the potential. Ron aimed a tickling charm at a cockroach somewhere in between him and Malfoy. Malfoy never
knew what hit him. By the time he stopped squirming from the spell, too many Gryffindors were watching him with
amused expressions. He couldn’t tell which one of them was responsible.

"You should have used something stronger," Hermione whispered to Ron.

Ron felt the small hairs at the back of his neck stand still. He didn’t hear Hermione’s voice for so long, he almost
forgot how nice it was. "I wasn’t sure where it would hit. I just hoped it would be that sly snake." His voice was very
apologetic.

"O’ right," Hagrid’s voice thundered above the kids’ heads. "The lesson is over. Some of ye who weren’t stupified,
please help me collect the missin’ roaches. The rest of yu are free ter go."

Everyone but Harry Ron and Hermione turned to leave. "Malfoy!" boomed Hagrid’s voice. "It is abou’ time ye stay
to help fer once." He looked menacingly at the pale boy.

Malfoy turned on his heel, making Crabbe and Goyle stop as well. He sent pale blue daggers at Hagrid, but Hagrid’s
gaze was unrelenting. Finally, Malfoy folded under Hagrid’s firm stare. He signalled Crabbe and Goyle to stay and
help too.

Harry’s desire to get back to the castle helped him overcome his initial disgust. He began collecting the escaped bugs
with his hands. Although his hands sank in the snow up to the elbows, he obstinately kept his shirtsleeves down, and
only folded the sleeves of his robes. He realised he must have looked ridiculous, but this was better than exposing the
mark on his forearm.

On his way to place the stepped-on roaches by the cage, he realised that all three remaining Slytherins had their
sleeves pulled down as well. He toyed with a dangerous idea for a moment. After all, all their fathers were Death
Eaters. No, he hushed the thought. That can’t be. There are no Death Eaters in Hogwarts. They must have some
other reason for leaving their sleeves down. They are probably just too dumb to think about pulling them up.
But then again, I’m here. The internal voice shushed him again, you are no Death Eater.

Malfoy approached the cage, eyeing the dead roaches in Harry’s hands suspiciously. "I think we got them all," he said,
trying to put as much enmity into the innocent words.

"I think we did," agreed Harry, overcoming his hostility in favour of finishing the chore and getting back to the warmth
of the castle.

Malfoy threw his catch into the cage. He turned his back to Harry and moved away as Hermione and Ron approached carrying their loot. They both tossed the dead roaches into the cage, grimacing with disgust. They carried the cage over
to Hagrid.

"Here Hagrid," the presented him the cage. "We got them all."

Hagrid took one look at the cage, his jaw dropping and a miserable wail escaped his throat.

"Hagrid? What happened?"

Hagrid pointed at the cage, unable to speak. Another wail escaped the deep of his throat.

Hermione surmised the problem first. "You didn’t mean us to kill them, did you?" she tried.

Hagrrid’s huge head nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, Hagrid, I’m so sorry. We didn’t realise that."

"We just saw cockroaches, and we assumed... you know."

"That we should step on them..."

All three of them turned their backs to the hut and ran away. They’ve been with Hagrid through some difficult times,
but helping him mourn over cockroaches was too much. They stopped running only as they reached the entrance hall.

Hermione wheezed from the run, and leaned on Harry’s arm until she caught her breath. She drew her hand back in
surprise. "Harry! Your shirt is soaking wet!"

"Yeah, I know. Some of those roaches were trenched deep in the snow."

"Honestly, you should try folding your sleeves next time. Here –" she reached to fold it for him.

Harry drew back in horror. "No," he said, a little too hastily. "I’ll go change. You go ahead and get a head start on
lunch. I’ll be right down." He walked away, wondering how long he would be able to hide this atrocity from his two
best friends.
 
 
 

A/N: That’s it. The next chapter is called: "When Darkness Lurks". That is, if this chapter gets enough reviews.

Thanks to:
The Padded One: You win 5 points to your house! It is now obvious to whom Krum is drawn.
H/C FOREVER!!!, Nick, Elyssa, The Game: I don’t know who Hermione will end up with. So far it doesn’t look
good for any of the candidates.
Cassandra Claire: for the kind words and the permission to use the phrase. Things got a little out of hand, and it will
be put to use (including knocking myself out) only at the end of the next chapter. (If I’ll ever write it).
Draco’s Girl: for your lovely and informative reviews. I’ll take your remarks and requests into careful consideration.
Eloria: for making me smirk madly for half a day.
Sanna: I never said I wouldn’t H/D. I don’t know who Hermione ends up with. Ginny doesn’t look awful. She only
looks caricaturised when Malfoy looks at her. Can’t say that this has the potential to turn as soapish as you described,
but who knows.
The Great Hermione Fan: for the wonderful compliments. By your name, I hope you’re not offended by the way I
represent Hermione. I know I am.
Mina: You also win 5 points for your house. Don’t they make the best couple? Are you serious about Voldie? I’ve
seen fics that describe him as a human. You might want to look them up.
Victor’sGurl: I wouldn’t dream of putting him with Pansy. What is m/m slash? Never saw one. Thanks for putting so
much into your review.
Lizzy/Tygrestick, Chinook: special thanks for making the effort to review and give kind words even though you didn’t
know what to say.
 

Back to Chapter 3
Chapter 5