by Incitata
 
 

Chapter 5
Fireworks
 

"There are always two choices. Two paths to take.
One is easy. And its only reward is that it's easy."
Anon
 

High in the Gryffindor tower Hermione Granger sat alone. She sat as she had done for several
hours hunched up on the plush velvet window seat, back against the bevelled frame, one cheek
flat against a chilled pane of glass. One leg was drawn up against her chest and the other dangled
down to the floor.

Outside a hostile wind howled around the walls of the tower. It rattled the windows, searching
for a breach in the ancient defences of the castle. Hermione’s eyes strayed to the black moonless
sky; blacker, scudding clouds skimmed the dark line of the forbidden forest which marked the
horizon. The earliest stars were just visible above.

Hermione did not believe that there were answers in the stars yet for once her own reason was
failing her. Cold logic could provide no answer.

She feared that she was falling in love.

"I’ll stay here," she said, to Crookshanks curled in front of the fire. The large orange cat did not
stir but continued to purr contentedly in his sleep. Hermione didn’t mind, as long as she was talking
to someone (even a sleeping cat) she didn’t feel she was going totally mad. "I’ll lock my door and
not go out tonight. In case I say something that I can’t take back."

Her mind, confused with fears and dreams of conflict, Hermione drifted into a shallow sleep.

A loud crack shattered the peace of sleep. Hermione jumped, knocking her head on the window
and Crookshanks arched and hissed like only a surprised semi-Kneazle can. Hermione leapt to her
feet feeling suddenly the stiffness in her limbs. What the …

"Come missy," squeaked a familiar voice from behind the hangings of Hermione’s four poster bed.
Hermione tugged aside the curtain and found a House Elf gabbling plaintively from beneath a folded
paper hat.

The go between.

"Missy ‘mione will be late," said the Elf. Despite his self proclaimed loathing of House Elves
Draco still seemed happy to use them whenever it suited him. Willing and able to go places they
could not the creature made the perfect go between yet Hermione was still troubled by Draco’s
attitude. The idea that he might, in her absence give the Elf a hefty kick caused Hermione a great
deal of anguish; nor was she entirely comfortable with the idea of servants, particularly not ones
she still thought were unfairly enslaved. Hermione pulled a hand through her tangled hair and stifled
a yawn.

"Nearly eight," continued the Elf in it’s curious broken english, "Malfoy sir summon Whimsy and
say, go and get missy ‘mione and he say if you not come he boil Whimsy’s head." The elf stared
up at Hermione with huge questioning eyes. "Would he missy ‘mione, boil Whimsy’s head?"

Hermione did not have an answer to that. Draco had promised that he wouldn’t lay a finger on
the elf but now she wasn’t so sure. "Tell Draco I’ll be there," said Hermione, just in case. "And
tell him that … Oh, just tell him I’ll be there."
 

~0~

Still not entirely ready to watch a new year begin Hermione left her dormitory. She had gone but
two steps when she turned back. She crossed to her bedside table and picked up the sliver of silver
that lay there. It slid through her fingers but she forced the tiny snake into place. It’s weight felt good.

Satisfied that she had done this much Hermione grabbed her cloak from the back of the door and
made her way down to the common room. Her head was swirling with thoughts. Why did she have
to be stuck with the most infuriating friends on the planet? Why did she have to like someone that
those friends considered to be an enemy?

Heavy curtains were drawn across the windows to muffle the night and to keep in the heat from the
blazing fire. Someone had pulled a battered old sofa in front of the fire and Hermione saw that Ron
and Ginny sat at either end. Two armies faced off before battle on a chequered field between them.

"Hi Hermione," said Ginny with a wave. "You coming to the fireworks tonight? Hagrids doing a
display in the courtyard."

"Oh, maybe," replied Hermione, unable to ignore them she tried to look as though she wasn’t in
a hurry. Hermione wandered over and perched on the back of the couch. "I have a paper to write.
I'll probably be stuck in here all night finishing it."

"In the holidays? What fun!" Ron muttered. "Excuse me if I don't join you."

"Well, it’s a clear night," said Ginny "And if the wind dies down the display should be magnificent.
And Ron would like you to come, wouldn’t you Ron? I …" Ginny continued to prattle on.

Hermione could see that Ginny didn’t believe her. Ron’s sister had been a lot more distant
recently. Why did bloody Weasley’s have to go passing judgement without knowing any of the
facts. Hermione recalled her fourth year when Mrs Weasley had decided to condemn her for
two timing Harry (which was not true). They’re all the same, but they never tell you openly what
they think.

Ron had hardly raised his eyes from the chessboard. Hermione could see that every piece but
one was in its place. She saw it held loosely between Ron's fingers and it seemed to be drawing
most of his attention. A red knight.

"… anyway, even if you can’t get there I’m sure you’ll see it from the windows."

"You seen Harry?" asked Ron, when Ginny eventually stopped talking long enough to take a
breath.

"I assumed he'd be with you," said Hermione, she felt awkward. She shifted the cloak that hung
over her arm checking carefully to straighten out the wrinkles. It was a convenient way of avoiding
Ron's eye.

"Where are you going?"

"The Owlery," lied Hermione. Now wasn't the time for truth, let him assume that she was writing
to thank Viktor. "I thought it would be cold up there hence the cloak!" Stop it Hermione, she told
herself, Isn't that what liars do? Embroider their stories until they forget quite what is true.

Truth was she had no idea where she was going.

As a signal that she was leaving Hermione stood. She wrapped her cloak round her shoulders
exposing a flash of silver at her wrist.

"You wearing that?" asked Ron glaring at the little snake coiled beneath her sleeve.

"I seem to be." Hermione replied, irritated. I'm not accountable to him. She reminded herself
angrily. "I might see you later at the fireworks."

"Can I see?" chirped Ginny, craning over the back of the sofa. "Is it really from Viktor?"

"Sure," said Hermione, sounding bored. Since when have you been on first name terms with
him? Hermione wanted to scream. Instead she dutifully extended her arm so that Ron’s sister
could see.

"It’s a bit … slytherinny isn’t it?" Ginny gave Ron a very strange look.

You’re too bloody sharp for your own good, thought Hermione as she pulled down her sleeve
and forced a tight lipped smile. "Well, Viktor is a bit slytherinny isn’t he Ginny."

"I suppose. Hey, if you’re going to the Owlery, can you send something home for me?" Ginny was
already on her feet.

"I don’t really think I …" Hermione protested, heading toward the portrait hole.

"I’ll only be a minute," said Ginny disappearing up the spiral staircase that led to her dormitory.

Hermione was left alone with Ron. And now that she was wearing her cloak she was beginning to
feel hot and uncomfortable. Once she would have asked what was bothering him, but now there
wasn’t anything she could think of that would break their uneasy silence. The fire crackled as a log
slipped down the grate sending a spray of sparks up the chimney. Maybe if she’d worn his scarf
too, maybe then Ron wouldn’t be looking so sullen.

Ginny burst back into the room herding her first years before her. Hermione couldn’t help thinking
that she looked rather like a fussy hen, rather like her mother actually. Apart from the growing physical
resemblance they had the same irritating habit of jumping to conclusions.

Ginny waved an envelope at Hermione. "It’s for Mum," she said, "Just use one of the school owls.
Pig still hasn’t recovered from christmas. We sent him home and George fed him christmas cake
soaked in brandy."

"No problem." Hermione could hardly refuse, Bitch. She took the envelope and stuffed it in her
bag. She made for the door before Ginny delayed her any longer. "I’ll see you later," Hermione
called, she glanced back over her shoulder. Brother and sister were already deep in hushed
conversation.

"Have a good night," said the Fat Lady as Hermione stepped into the hallway. "My dear, you've
lost your badge."

"Oh!" Hermione raised her hand to her breast where her prefect badge was usually prominently
displayed. "I decided not to wear it tonight," Something else that wasn't quite true. "Just for a
change." As far as Hermione knew her badge was still at the bottom of the bathtub. Draco had
flatly refused to dive in and retrieve it for her so she had left it there.

"Very well dear," said the Fat Lady as she settled herself down for a raucous New Year with her
friend Violet and a bottle of Ogden’s.

Hermione waved and set off for her rendezvous. She was going to be late, especially now that
she had to go to the Owlery first. Her first thought was to send the letter at another time but she
was betting that Ginny would ask her mother when she received it. Damn.

Hermione was half way to the Owlery when she stopped, "No!" she said determinedly. "No, I’m
not going to do it. The whole bloody Weasley clan can scowl and judge all they like but I am not
sending it. I have plans, they can wait."

So, a little later than planned, Hermione trotted down the staircase to the dungeons.

"You're late," said a voice, accusing and cold. Hermione turned and peered through the semi
darkness to see Draco leaning against a wall, his face bore the most impatient statement she had
ever seen. "I nearly went without you."

"Well I’m here now," snapped Hermione; she was still rattled by her run in with Ginny. "Where
are we going?"

"It's a secret." Draco took her hand, "Now follow me."

"Why," demanded Hermione as they set off, " Did you tell Whimsy you’d boil her head if I didn’t
come?"

"Thought you might be having second thoughts," he grinned nastily and continued to walk at a
brisk pace. "Just a little motivation for you!"

"You mustn’t make idle threats like that," said Hermione, stopping dead. She was ready to
refuse to walk any further until he stopped and listened. "Poor little thing was scared!"

"We keep having this discussion, Hermione," said Draco, frustration darkened his brow. "You
think House Elves are cute, helpful little creatures, generally exploited by their masters. I know
otherwise. I don’t want to talk about this any more," he continued adding a final, "End of
discussion!" before walking on.

Hermione glared at his back then said very determinedly, "It’s not the end of the discussion,
Draco," Hermione felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, she was feeling belligerent. "You can’t
tell me what I can or cannot talk about."

"Hermione," said Draco, walking back toward her.

"What?" Hermione felt his hands cool against her hot cheeks, his fingers searching their way
through her hair. Not fair! She was annoyed with the Weasleys and wanted to take it out on
someone but Draco didn’t seem to be playing her game.

"Shut up!" he whispered, pulling her to him and settling the argument with his kiss. "Now lets go."

Hermione made a mental note to get him back for that later.

Draco led her out into the grounds. Hermione wrapped her cloak tight around her shoulders for
the wind was as vicious down here as it had been at the top of the Gryffindor tower. It carried from
the north the promise of more snow before dawn.

They crept round the edge of the castle, crossed the churned crunchy snow on the lawn and skirted
the edge of the forbidden forest. Each time Hermione asked "Where?" Draco simply smiled and kept
his silence. They crossed the road that led down to the great boar guarded gates and pushed through
the undergrowth at the other side.

"Careful here," said Draco, raising a warning hand. He shone his wand through the scrub and
revealed a drop of a hundred feet or more. He’d brought her to the top of the cliffs. "It may be
a bit slippy. It’s just an animal track but it’s easy enough. Just follow me."

Hermione saw a pathway, maybe ten inches wide that led out round the cliff face. Tufts of frosted
grass that clung to the edges were just visible in the pale wandlight. To her left was the sky and to
her right the rugged wall of the great cliff that bore Hogwarts school high above the village of Hogsmeade.

"Give me your hand," said Draco. Thinking that this may well be the last thing she ever did,
Hermione gripped his hand tightly and took her first step on the ridge. "Relax," said Draco giving
her had a reassuring squeeze. "If you fall you’ll land in the lake."

That of course is exactly what Hermione was trying to forget; even worse the sharp rocks
below. The sound of the lake agitated by the wind beating those rocks pounded in her ears.
Hermione stayed as close to the cliff face as she possibly could counting every breath, and
every moment along the icy path which rose gradually and grew narrower and narrower
with each hesitant step.

She was aware of nothing but the cruel cold that scoured her cheeks and the incessant churning
of the lake below.

I’m squid food, she thought, unable to work out why Draco had decided to give her a guided
tour of hell.

Hermione's whole body tensed as a gust threatened to peel them both off the cliff face. The
fingers of her free hand dug into the rock desperately searching for a hold. Her other hand
crushed Draco’s.

"Nearly there," his voice encouraged, cutting through the screaming of the wind and the flapping
of their cloaks, as loud as unfurled sails in a storm.

Then suddenly, he was gone.

"DRACO," she yelled, deafened by the wind. Her voice raised an octave. Tendrils of gale blown
ivy struck her face and she clung with one hand to the cliff, back flat against the rock. Her other
hand held only the memory of warmth where his fingers had been torn from hers.

"DRACO," she screamed forcing down a sob, but the wind forced tears from her eyes masked
only by the darkness. Hermione was close to panic; she screwed her eyes tight closed and clutched
at the cliff behind her, cold and unyielding, no haven there. She inched blindly on along the path
and felt her foot slip, pebbles dashing down the side of the cliff. She froze. No, I can’t do it, I
can’t go on, can’t go back. Oh, my …

A hand, thin and hard scraped across her face trapping her scream inside her mouth, another arm
tight around her waist pulled her back into the shadows.

"Hermione,"

Arms were around her, her head clutched to his chest, a warm familiar scent. She felt a heartbeat.

"Hermione,"

She slumped to the floor and he followed, cradling her trembling body against his. She heard
her name.

"Hermione, calm down. I’m sorry."

A hand stroked her hair and her whole body was swamped in a thick dark cloak.

"LOOK AT ME," something warm on her cheeks making her open her eyes. Hermione blinked
and stared into a pair of pale grey eyes, very close. Strange because they lacked their usual chill.
These eyes showed something she’d never expected from Draco; concern.

"It’s alright Hermione, you’re safe. Breath now, slowly."

"I thought you’d …" she couldn’t stop her tears.

"Shhh. Don’t speak, not yet." Hermione felt Draco’s arms tighten round her. He held her there
muttering soft words in her ear until her sobs subsided.

"I shouldn’t have done that," Draco said eventually as he brushed away a last tear with his thumb.
"I didn’t think you’d be so afraid."

Still too shocked to yell at him for nearly scaring her to death, Hermione looked around. She
knelt on the dry sandy floor of a small cave. A curtain of trailing ivy at the mouth protected the
interior from the weather and the rugged walls were visible in the dim light of Draco’s fallen
wand. Apart from that there was nothing there.

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

Hermione watched Draco’s smile flicker as he composed his reply. She was certain it wasn’t
spontaneous.

"Actually it found me," he said lightly, as though stumbling across comfy caves on inhospitable
cliffs was the sort of thing that happened every day. "I just happened to be walking here last year
when the results of our NEWTs came out; I came to a point where there was nowhere left to
turn. There I was stuck, being slowly cooked by the blazing sunlight...and there it was!"

Something bothered Hermione. What in Merlin’s name he was doing walking along a narrow
cliff path with a sheer drop of several hundred feet below in the first place? Thinking it might be
a little tactless to raise this issue she stored it away, something to ask another time.

"…I just sort of fell back and there it was! I was lying in a puddle of warm sand." Draco paused
and gave Hermione an inscrutable smile. "I thought you’d like it. Anyone who spends as long in a
library as you must often feel the need for solitude. One way in and one way out; quality alone
time, guaranteed. Though I admit, I prefer to use a broom to get here," he added with the soft
gurgling chuckle that always made Hermione think of champagne.

"Come with me," Draco helped Hermione to her feet and she followed him mutely over to the
mouth of the cave; she hung back from the edge, reluctant to go any nearer. He pulled back the
trailing ivy and wrapped his other arm around Hermione’s shoulder. "The view is actually quite
good, when you’re not terrified of falling that is. Those lights over there are the station and there’s
Hogsmeade in the distance," he turned his head and looked down at Hermione, "You should
come up here and watch the dawn."

That new light in his eyes that she’d noted earlier was still there, Hermione thought that she liked it.

A nice warm sandy cave, very primitive, Hermione thought wryly, Perhaps after scaring me
half to death he’s going to get a woolly mammoth to attack us next.

Suddenly a glow blazed behind them and Hermione turned. The cave was flooded with candlelight
and a large table occupied the centre of the cave, a chair at either end. Beyond it standing on an
upturned crate stood Whimsy, ears flapping through her folded paper hat. The Elf directed a look of
sheer loathing at Draco. Hermione noticed that this look quickly became neutral when he turned round.

"That’ll be dinner," said Draco. "That Elf seems to like you, Hermione. It arranged for this to be
brought here, didn’t want to help me but when I said it was for you it tripped over itself to accommodate…"

Probably because you keep calling her it, Hermione thought.

"… You missed christmas lunch and I think that was partly my fault so I thought we might celebrate,
it’s only a few days late. I gave you your gift this morning."

Hermione’s hand instinctively went to the little silver snake when he mentioned it and his narrow smile
told her that he understood. Really she didn’t know what to say, it was all so … opulent.

Draco moved behind her and removed her cloak from her shoulders. He slung it over his shoulder and
guided Hermione to a chair which he drew back for her. He threw their cloaks at the House Elf before
taking his own seat.

"I sent home for this," Draco produced a bottle which he proceeded to open with a satisfying pop. He
poured the bubbling liquid into two tall glasses. "My father is going to be livid when he finds I’ve been
raiding his cellars but right now he isn’t there so there’s nothing the old bastard can do about it."

Hermione recognised champagne when she saw it though the label was unfamiliar, Krug 1974, no
Mumm here!. "I thought you people despised Muggles and all things to do with Muggles …"

"Well, why try to improve perfection. Come, Hermione, you accept that my family are bigoted, correct?"

She nodded.

"Well then," he said, that laugh again. "Is it really a surprise that we’re hypocrites too?"

Once, Hermione would have thought Draco incapable of self mockery. True he would never
countenance anyone else saying such a thing about his family but then he didn’t apply the same
rules to himself as everyone else. Her eyes followed his hand as he slid the glass toward her.

"I think it’s against school rules, Draco," she said. Draco got to his feet and walked round the
table. He bent close.

"So give me detention!" he said wrapping her fingers round the stem of her glass. "Now, do I
have to force you to drink it?" With one arm either side of her he trapped her hand against the
cold glass holding both between his, there wasn’t much Hermione could do as he raised the
glass to her lips. "To hypocrisy and indulgence. Ecce pactum. Id cape aut id relinque."

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say to that. Not that she could speak because he held the glass
to her lips until she drank from it.

"It’s a family motto," Draco explained, as he returned to his seat. "We’re not big on compromise!"

"You do surprise me!" really Hermione had no idea what he was going to come up with next.
Her friends might hate him but at least he wasn’t boring and predictable like Ron.

"Can I ask you something Hermione?" Draco asked as Whimsy whisked the remains of their
first course back up to the castle. He leaned on one elbow, his fingers twirling the stem of his
glass round and round. Hermione nodded, she had the feeling that he’d been avoiding saying
something, now the elf was gone maybe he’d get to the point.

"You seem to have a taste for … how can I put it? Famous men … fast men," Draco grinned.
"And they seem to have a taste for you, Potter, Krum … myself. Maybe you like seekers?"

"There’s never been anything between me and Harry," said Hermione. "We’re friends, always
have been … nothing more." She wanted to say always will be but she no longer knew that for
certain.

"If you say so," Draco clearly didn’t believe her, "Now Krum I can understand, famous Quidditch
star, mysterious foreigner. But why does Weasley think you’re still seeing him?"

"Maybe he finds the idea of Viktor easier to cope with than the idea of you," Hermione suddenly
became very interested in the hypnotic stream of bubbles that hissed and fizzed up her glass. She
didn’t like this line of questioning. "I don’t see that it’s a problem. If he wants to delude himself he
can. I don’t really think it’s any of your business …"

Hermione knew instantly that she had said something wrong. Draco slammed his hand flat on the
table. Hermione watched as the plates and glasses jumped and rattled. Until that moment she hadn’t
known he was serious.

"Then, I know where I stand," Draco hissed. Hermione regarded him from across the table rather
as a tired butterfly regards a lepidopterist with a spare pin. "How nice of you to tell me," she could
see that he was struggling for control. His fist clenched squeezing every drop of blood out of his
hand. Slowly the anger that flared so suddenly in his eyes was covered, frozen beneath glacier grey.
"Happy-New-Year!"

Hermione was left with the horrible feeling that Draco would dearly like to know what it would feel
like if he slammed that fist straight into her stomach.

It was too much, Hermione could quite do without the insecure and the jealous; she was still on
edge and in no mood to let this lie.

"Oh, forgive me please! I forgot our parents got together in the hour of our births and pledged us to
one another. How ever could I have forgotten that?," said Hermione, tongue dripping a searing mix
of sarcasm and vitriol. "Obviously someone else has the Malfoy family braincell this week because
you are acting like a bloody idiot! Don’t sit there looking at me like I cancelled Christmas, that was
last week when you started sniffing round me. I didn’t ask you to ruin my holidays. No, you just
swaggered in without a thought of what would happen next. Do you really think this is going to last?
Look at us Draco, forget your family, lets not even bring them into it. What about your friends?"

"Your friends … say what you mean Hermione," said Draco, sharply, not a ripple of feeling marred
his face. "Nice to see that deep down you really have little faith in their ability to forgive you or even
to understand you."

"Alright, my friends. No, I don’t think they’ll understand, I don’t understand! But don’t try and
turn this all on me. It won’t work, not this time! Your friends hate me, actually I always thought
you hated me."

"I hate you only because you rate the friendship of Harry bloody Potter above my own,"

"So now you hate me, a few seconds ago you were pissed off because you thought I was still
seeing Viktor Krum. Make up your mind! What do you expect me to do? Roll over and beg you
to stay just because you bring me to your weird little love nest ... I can’t be bought Draco, I don’t
care how extravagant you are, what gifts you can give me." Hermione ripped the little snake off
her wrist and threw it to the floor, her chair fell into the sand with a soft thwump. "People like
Pansy might be impressed with this sort of thing but I’m not … save it for her, I’m sure she can’t
wait to come back here!"

Hermione stormed over to the mouth of the cave, the stars were brighter now but still they held
no solution.

"I’ve never brought anyone else here," Draco said quietly. Hermione turned. His gaze focussed
on a depression in the sandy floor from which a tiny green eye winked. He raised his head and
looked up at Hermione, "What do you want, Hermione?" he asked, his voice tired and barely
above a whisper. "What can I do …?"

"I don’t want anything from you, Draco. Why can’t you understand that? I just don’t want to be
some hidden thing that you won’t acknowledge, all this sneaking around is killing me, these twisted
games… Just stop it! If you love me tell me, and hang the consequences, if not, just stop!"
 
 
 

In Part Six: After Midnight actually I’m not giving anything away this time:)

Authors Notes

Extra special thanks to Sanna and Squin who have been with me all the way so far. A huge glass
of Bolly and a party hat to the rest of you!

Ecce pactum. Id cape aut id relinque: I’ve been looking for an excuse to use that phrase. The
translation is … available in Henry Beards stonking book Latin for All Occasions (Angus &
Robertson 1991). Translations on request.

I’m so sorry for leaving a cliff-hanger … it just seemed appropriate. If I have time there’ll be one
more chapter before I bugger off to France for Christmas to break limbs on the slopes.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters are and remain the property of J K Rowling,
Bloomsbury or Scholastic Books. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks
of Warner Brothers © 2000/2001. No infringement of copyright is intended by this fic.
 

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Chapter 6