Fear (Sequel to Love: ADS)

Chapter 12 part 3. Old Books and Creepy Temples

“Draco!” a familiar voice shouted.

 

“Blaise.” I said, resignation in my voice.

 

He bounced over. “I heard you nearly died. You aren’t dead, right?”

 

“No Blaise, I’m not dead.”

 

“Good. Because if you were, I’d have to do some really nasty rituals to get you back, and that would be so unpleasant.”

 

I chuckled. “I’m sure.”

 

“Anyway, when you do get out of here, be careful, yeah? What with the Prophet spouting its nonsense, you’re at an even bigger risk than usual.”

 

“I’ll be careful.” I agreed.

 

The door swung open and my mother and Hermione reentered.

 

“Blaise, dear, so wonderful to see you.” my mother said, kissing him on the cheek.

 

“You too, Narcissa.” he replied, fluttering his eyelids.

 

For the next hour we idly chatted, interspersed with slightly more serious concerns, but we all knew what we were waiting for: McGonagall. Not quite as ridiculously old and therefore knowledgeable as Dumbledore, but much more practical (and in my opinion, likable), by this time she was sure to have news.

 

It wasn’t much longer before Harry peeped his head in once again. “The Headmistress is here.”

 

She swept into the room, her robes billowing behind her. The room went quiet. “I may have found some information on Mr. Malfoy’s plight. One of my colleagues has access to a library filled with ancient texts, most of which are no longer valid with the current magical theory, but there are some that still have relevant information.” She reached into the bag she was carrying (which, I assumed, had an extension charm on it, given that it was quite small and the book she was pulling out was rather large). “It describes an ancient temple, where there exists a pool of some kind, filled with a blue energy. It’s a stretch, but it’s the closest we’ve come. I brought the book, I thought you might want to go through it yourself.”

 

“Thank you, Headmistress.” Hermione took the offered book, studying the cover. “Does it give a location for this temple?”

 

“A vague set of instructions, if they can be called that, do exist.” she admitted. “I’ve been attempting to work through them myself, but it’s an arduous task. Perhaps you’ll have better luck.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re quite welcome, my dear.” she replied. “But I’d best be getting back to Hogwarts. I have someone’s Defense Against Dark Arts class to substitute for.” She smiled at me.

 

I grinned back. “Say hi to them for me.”

 

“Of course.”

 

As she left, Hermione flipped through the pages. I looked over her shoulders. “That should be fun understanding.” I murmured.

 

“It isn’t that bad. It could have been written in runes.”

 

“That would have been worse.” Blaise agreed. “Besides, when did McGonagall say it was from?”

 

“She didn’t, but judging by the spelling, I’d say fourteen, fifteen hundreds? It’s intelligible, at least.”

 

“Well, I’ve got two weeks stuck here, so I’m sure I can make my way through some of it.” I sighed. “Which brings me to my next question, how long have you been here?” I asked, turning to Hermione.

 

“I’ve only missed two days worth of classes, don’t worry. I just got Hagrid to sit in and keep an eye on them. They’ll be fine.”

 

“I’m a bit skeptical on your definition of fine, but it’s your class, not mine, I suppose.”

 

“Though I should be heading back…” She sighed regretfully. “I’ll come visit after classes are over, yeah?”

 

“Alright.” I said. “I’ll be here, with the book and Potter.”

 

“Try not to get in any trouble.” she implored, pressing a kiss to my cheek before standing up. “Please.”

 

“I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

She turned to Harry. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

 

“Sure thing, Hermione.” he grinned brightly.

 

“Well, I’m off to lunch with Theodore.” Blaise said. “Have fun stuck in the hospital. I’ll be back with food tomorrow, yeah? Try not to die before then.”

 

“I’ll certainly try, Blaise. Have fun on your lunch date.”

 

He stuck his tongue out at me before leaving. Such a child.

 

“I suppose I should be leaving too.” My mother sighed regretfully. “I would reiterate the ‘try not to die’ sentiment, but I’m sure that’s getting old. I love you.”

“You too.”