Harry Potter and the Year After

Chapter Thirty-four: Draco in the Forest

Chapter 34: Draco in the Forest

Hermione was naked in a large bed with black silky sheets. Harry was next to her and he was naked too. His eyes were so beautiful, it was a shame that he always hid them behind glasses. Selfishly, she was happy that she was the only one who ever was allowed to see them this closely... He kissed her neck--

"You'll be late for breakfast," Ginny said, hovering over her. Hermione was suddenly back in her four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory. She was wearing her normal, everyday flannel pajamas.

"Ginny!" Hermione squeaked, sitting up too quickly. They nearly bumped heads but Ginny jumped back and avoided it.

"Bad dream?" Ginny asked, turning away as she pulled her pajamas off and began changing into a skirt and t-shirt.

"Um, I don't remember. Why?" Hermione swung her feet out of bed, trying not to watch Ginny change.

"You were moaning... oh, never mind."

"What?" Hermione stood and moved to the end of her bed where her trunk sat.

"I don't want to know about your sex dreams with my brother."

"Ginny!" Hermione's mind was buzzing--if Ginny was any good at Legilimency, this would have been quite a bit more awkward. A second dream about Harry? And this dream had been so... intimate. Maybe it meant something else? Like, maybe it meant that she simply trusted Harry? Yes, that must be it. Or maybe she shouldn't eat cauldron cakes before bed...

"Hermione, did you hear me?" Ginny asked. She now had her school robes on overtop of her clothes and was standing right next to Hermione's trunk.

"Mm?" Hermione chanced a glance up at Ginny.

"I said I'm going down to breakfast. Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Oh, no. You go ahead." Hermione pulled open her school trunk and began rummaging through.

"Okay," Ginny said. It was quiet while Hermione waited for Ginny to leave. But she didn't. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Hermione answered immediately.

"Well, if you want to talk about it... there's always Harry if you can't tell me..."

"Of course."

After what seemed to be an eternity, but really was only three more seconds, Ginny left the girls' dormitory. As the other girls had already left, Hermione was left alone. She hoped she would forget the dream soon and she wondered if her hot face was also red.

***

Draco Malfoy woke up early this morning as usual. He hadn't been able to sleep well in more than two years now, but of course no one but Draco knew this.

Out of habit, he had brushed his hair back with Sleekeazy's Hair Potion this morning, shaved the shockingly red facial hair that he had (could he share ancestry with those Weasleys?), slapped on the same aftershave potion that his father wore, and then pulled on a tailored black wizard's suit to match the compulsory black student's robe. He couldn't imagine making it through another year at this school, not after everything that happened.

And yet here he was.

He wasn't hungry. He'd strode to the doors of the Great Hall alone (he was always alone anymore) but didn't enter. Harry Potter and Weasley and Granger were there. A constant humiliating reminder of what an unbearable cowardly fool his father was and how that man had deceived him his entire childhood by pretending to be honorable.

Instead, Draco continued walking and pushed his way through the heavy front doors of the castle and strode out down the grounds. Though he was already alone out in the early autumn morning, he could still hear the clatter and hubbub of breakfast. He kept his pace until he couldn't hear it anymore (he was halfway to Hagrid's hut) and then he slowed.

Really, Draco thought, he should just leave. Who would miss him besides his mother? He could go live as a muggle somewhere and find some muggle wife who would think he was a genius because he'd, of course, use charms and Legilimency on her whenever necessary.

But he reminded himself, his mother had been through enough. And really, even if he was going to start this new phase of not hating muggles anymore, he wasn't ready to live like one. He'd never be ready for that.

Perhaps, he thought, he should simply find a girlfriend who wasn't in Slytherin. He still hadn't responded to Pansy's last owl-- she and her parents were lying low in Romania even though they'd actually not really done anything wrong...

He'd made it to the edge of the Forbidden Forest without meaning to. With half a glance backward, he entered the forest's edge.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets. The fall was coming on early and Draco's long fingers had already gotten cold, not that he minded.

He shuffled his shining black shoes through the scree and fallen leaves underfoot, passive-aggressively enjoying the fact that he was getting his shoes dirty. After all, what would happen now if he came home during Christmas with scuffed shoes? He could hardly imagine his father blocking his ears for such a thing. Not after everything.

His father, plainly, was a dumb shell. Actually dumb. He didn't eat or talk much, though he'd never really before either. But now, he was broken. The sneering judgment was gone. And so was the fight, the conceit, and the pride. At least, it was when Draco left to live alone in their summer house for the past month. Probably nothing had changed in the matter of a few weeks.

Obviously, Lucius Malfoy had changed for the better. And yet, Draco couldn't help but feel like a part of his childhood--however dreadful his father may have been during that childhood--was now dead and gone. Draco didn't know how to be nice. It seemed Lucius didn't know either.

Glancing up from his shoes, Draco found himself in a clearing in the woods. A quick glance at the trees and ground showed that it was obvious that some powerful magic had been performed here. The realization came sharply in focus in Draco's mind: this must be where Harry Potter and Voldemort had their face-off--the same place where Draco's mother had lied to Voldemort in order to be reunited with, him. Her son.

Tears sprang to Draco's eyes. Why they did, he had no idea. His gaze fell to his shoes again as he turned and walked back toward the edge of the woods, dragging his feet again.

Clearly he needed to find a way not to hate himself so much. Had he always hated himself like this and was just realizing it? Or was this something new? He wasn't sure. He supposed he always hated his father. But his father had always been easy to hate, not that Lucius knew his true feelings, of course. Draco had perfected the art of Occlumency and Legilimency at a very early age thanks to Snape coming around to tutor him as a child.

And that's when he saw it. Something black glinted at his toe as he walked even though hardly any sunlight reached the forest floor here. Draco took a quick step back and bowed his head. The black thing seemed to glitter a little. Squatting down, he gingerly lifted the black shining thing in his long, delicate fingers. It was a stone that was oddly square, as though it had been cut as a precious stone might be.

Draco held it up to the trees and though no new light hit the stone, it glinted as though it was in direct sun. But as Draco watched, the sun seemed to shut off and the stone no longer shone. It was as dark as it should be.

A familiar chill came over him. It was the same chill he'd gotten when he had successfully performed his first spell at age six. It was the same chill he always got when he realized something useful and potentially powerful.

Though he didn't realize it, Draco Malfoy had just found the Resurrection Stone.

He pocketed it in hisschool robe and quickly strode back up to the front entrance of the castle.