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Linked by Philyra912
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Romance, Draco M., Hermione G., Words: 61k+, Favs: 4k+, Follows: 920, Published: Jun 18, 2005 Updated: Jan 5, 2006
 2,542 Chapter 22: Powerless
A/N: Hello, darlings! Almost 2 weeks to the day! Am I good, or what?

A few quick thank-yous: Oh, my reviewers. How I adore you. Good fortune and pink jelly beans upon all your houses. Super-extra thanks to Lorett for the fabulous beta job, as always.

Not much else to say, so without further ado, on to the chapter!

Chapter 21: Powerless
Draco saw the tears she shed as they drank the potion. He did not comment on them because he could think of nothing to ease her pain. He could think of nothing to ease his own, for that matter.

In all his young life, Draco Malfoy had never done anything halfway. He had known the most exquisite luxuries and the deepest sufferings. He hated with consuming passion, and though he believed in very little, when he did it was with a fierce and unwavering loyalty. Now he wished with all his heart that he was capable of feeling anything in moderation, because one more moment of this wrenching regret and insufferable, impossible, unexceptional Hermione Granger would succeed where his father had failed and finally break his heart.

In the brief moments of expectation that followed their consumption of the potion which he had once thought would be his salvation and now seemed hauntingly like the very opposite, he desperately watched her face. In moments of suffering and despair, of which he was sure there would be many, he wanted to remember that there was once a girl, more pure then he would ever be despite his pristine lineage and her muddy blood, who spilled tears for the loss of him. When the world began to seem like too much to bear alone, he wanted to remember that for a few short months, he hadn't needed to.

He watched her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, and as he felt her grief pour over him, he gave up all pretenses and quit fighting his own. He didn't know if she ever felt it, because suddenly . . . it stopped. She was gone, though she still stood so close that he could reach out and touch her. He missed her, and was grateful, at least, that she couldn't feel it.

Her eyes turned to him, clouded with confusion and a fragility that made him wish he was the sort of man who possessed the strength and will to protect her and she was the sort of girl who would let him.

"Well, I suppose we should clean up," she said finally in a voice that seemed much to strong to be coming from someone who looked ready to shatter at any moment.

"I suppose so," he agreed quietly. He wondered if he imagined the way her eyes searched his own and then seemed to shimmer with renewed sadness.

They cleaned up in silence, and as Hermione finished up, Draco picked up the journal that still lay open on the table. He stared at the list of ingredients and felt more than a twinge of panic when he realized he was scowling at them, half-wishing that they had never found them, that the cure had never existed in the first place. He turned the page abruptly, hoping to banish such traitorous thoughts by removing their source.

He skimmed the following pages idly, absorbed in his troubling thoughts and barely registering the words he read, but he suddenly stopped and felt the blood in his veins go icy with shock. He read the sentences in question again and wondered if it was possible for his heart to sink and leap at the same time.

It has been a week since I discovered a way to block the symptoms of the Effect. I have not shared the secret of my cure with Edward, much to his anger, but I was unwilling to risk allowing another to ingest the potion until I had a full understanding of any side effects it may have. It was a wise decision, I have since discovered.

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