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Crossing the Veil	By : Breezy Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 12783 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter universe and make no money from this fictional story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2 -- Getting to Know You (Unfortunately)
Hermione's eyes flew open. She tried to lift her head but the effort was too great. Her head felt like it was full of lead. She opened and closed her eyes several times to clear her vision. She tried to look around but found that there was little to see--a gray wood-plank ceiling and a night stand or desk, or maybe an end table to her left.
"Harry!" she croaked out, her attempt to scream his name muffled as she could hardly speak. She cleared her throat and yelled out again, "HARRY!" her voice echoed in the room, but she heard no other sound.
She lay still on the floor for a few moments thinking about what had transpired. As per her usual, she had several theories of what occured and where she was located, but she still couldn't move. She dozed off and then awoke again with a start.
"Harry!" she shouted.
"Damn woman, keep it down, my head is killing me," a voice said from behind her. She turned to see who had spoken and realized she could move again. She got on her knees and sat back on her heels, shaking her head to clear the nonsense. But the nonsense remained. It wasn't Harry. It was Draco Malfoy.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione demanded, now on her feet and reaching for her wand. She narrowed her eyes at him, believing the worst about him before giving him a chance to speak. She hated Draco Malfoy. More now than ever, she supposed. The first time Hermione saw him she didn't like the look on his face. Besides the ridiculous insults he'd hurled her way, he always had a look on his face like he'd just smelled something bad.
"I reached out to grab your hand when you fell into the veil," Draco said in a raspy voice. It reminded her of Draco's father the last time she'd heard him speak. The Dark Lord punished him and his voice never returned. She hoped that Draco got his voice back because she couldn't stand listening to him if he sounded like his father.
"What were you doing there?" Hermione asked, thinking that he must have been up to no good. "Were you spying on Harry and me?" she demanded now standing right in front of him. She looked up to meet his steely grey eyes.
"Oh yeah, Granger. I was lurking in the shadows while you and Harry fucked each other in front of the veil," he said, his voice clear now. He rolled his eyes, hoping that his sarcasm covered the truth. In fact, he had been lurking in the shadows and watched them experiment on the veil since the first night they arrived. The sex was just a bonus after watching the boring experimentation parts.
"You still haven't answered me," she said reaching a finger up to poke him in the chest while she spoke. "What were you doing there?" He grabbed her finger and squeezed tightly.
"I work there. In the Department of Mysteries. If your research panned out in the slightest, I was there to be the Ministry official in charge," he said, obviously feeling full of himself and his standing at the Ministry.
"Oh, typical. The Ministry wanted to take credit for Harry's and my work and you of all people were just dying to get your hands all over our research," Hermione shook her finger away with a disgusted look on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"What you were doing was on Ministry property, and was potentially dangerous. Someone had to be there to make sure you didn't muck it all up," Draco replied. It was only partially true. He stumbled across Hermione and Harry by accident and had never reported to anyone that he was watching them. But he definitely would have taken credit if anything had panned out.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked looking around the sparse room, a bedroom it turned out, and heading toward the door. "Harry?" she called out.
"He's not here. He didn't go through the veil. You grabbed my hand instead of his," Draco informed her. She shook her head slowly, trying to put all of the pieces together.
"Where are we?" she asked trying to see out the window of the cabin they were now located. She didn't recognize it but it was a rather appealing little cabin. Rough hewn wood, hand-assembled. The rugs on the floor were hand braided. The quilts sewn by hand. It was an incredible facsimille of a rustic mountain college. She couldn't see anything out the window, being a very dark night with no moon. She gave up and turned back to Draco reluctantly. Why did it have to be him? Of all the people in the Ministry, why Draco Malfoy?"
"I can't say for sure. The craftsmanship on this cabin is outstanding. I thought it was magic at first, but this is the real deal," he said, knocking on the wood beside him.
"I thought it was magic, too..." she trailed off running her hand over the wooden doorframe. "It's exquisite," she said in a low voice.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Draco asked suddenly. She whipped her head away from the wood and stared at him.
"You know, I've never liked you. I felt sorry for you, I pitied you, and I hated you, but I never liked you. And then the Wizengamot let you walk away a free man. Because Harry told them to. He thought you could be reformed," Hermione said to him angrily.
"If Harry could see some good in me, why can't you?" Draco asked her, his expression full of condescension.
"You aren't repentant! You aren't reformed! You don't even want to be reformed!" the words burst from her rapidly. She had imagined this scenario in her mind over and over again after he was so unjustly set free but to actually say what she'd harbored inside for so long was absolutely freeing.
"You know nothing of me," he said without any emotion. He wanted to rile her up, to throw her off her game.
"I know enough," she said and then cringed. She stopped and took a deep breath. She knew what she wanted to say but she needed to stay on task.
"What I mean is that I know that your father bought your freedom and Harry's word sealed it. What I know," she placed her hand on her wand as she appoached him, "is that you got your position at the Ministry because of your last name and promise of more 'donations'," she said with confidence. She was on a roll. "What I know is that you've never accomplished anything and you never will. You will never be more than some low-level manager in some hidden-away department. If any woman sees fit to marry your sorry self, you will most likely destroy that, as well, because you are completely incompetent," she was smiling, waving her wand merrily as she spoke. It felt so good to let this all out. She spun and caught his eye. For a split second she thought she saw intense sadness at her words, but the stink-face, as she called it, returned.
"Oh, do go on Granger, what else does a know-it-all like you know about?" he sneered at her. She felt somewhat deflated.
"Shut up, Malfoy," she said and turned away from him. She was ashamed of herself again. She'd let her temper take her somewhere she didn't want to be. She was sweaty and wound up and her throat hurt from yelling so much. And she'd said some pretty terrible things to Draco. She turned to apologize, but he stared daggers at her.
"I will not shut up, Granger. Most people have been able to look past what I was conditioned to be from birth until I was barely a teenager. I still bear the mark, faded but never quite gone," he said to her, not letting her off the hook for belittling him. She'd been shockingly accurate, but he wasn't going to let her know that.
"You'll never change, Malfoy," she said, tossing her dark brown hair over her shoulder. She stood up to her full height, but inside she felt small. Harry had practically said the identical thing to her about Draco when she questioned him on his testimony at Draco's hearing. 'Draco was only a child, living in a dictatorial household with a madman running things' he explained. But she just couldn't let it go. He was always going to be the same person he was when he called her a mudblood at eleven years old.
"Again, you don't know me," he said simply. She glared at him. "Everything you say is based on assumptions and hearsay. We haven't spoken in three years." He turned away from her this time.
"True, but you haven't denied any of my assumptions, as you called them. You haven't refuted my information based on hearsay, wasn't it?" she said sneering back at him.
"You're wrong, Granger. I know you aren't wrong very often, but you are wrong about me," he told her. Hermione's shoulders dropped again. It was late. She was sick of arguing. It was like living with Ron all over again. Only Draco had smarter retorts. She didn't like that about him either.
"Whatever you say, Malfoy," she said back and then tried to stifle a yawn. "I'm going to take the other bedroom and maybe when we wake up in the morning we can figure out what is going on. I just can't stay awake any longer," she yawned audibly this time and then staggered to the other bedroom. Draco stepped forward and passed out onto the bed.
"Hermione! Draco!" Harry shouted their names and tried to reach for them but the cloth no longer allowed his fist to enter. It felt like he was punching a tapestry. Any magic that eminated from the veil had vanished. He couldn't hear the voices any longer, the whispers of the souls he imagined were trapped on the other side.
Harry had built up an image of what existed on the other side of the veil as a waiting room for people who weren't supposed to die. Martyrs, people who gave their lives for a cause. They stayed there, never passing over to death because they weren't supposed to be there anyway. That's why he could hear their voices. The voices of the people who did everything to protect him, but who he lost nonetheless. But now the veil was silent.
Harry pounded his fist against the cloth, hoping that he would plunge through. Or that he could reach through and grab Hermione and pull her back. Maybe Hermione would walk out at any second. He stood and waited with an expectant smile on his face. That was the plan--they would cross-over and then come right back. Nothing happened.
He thought about what he was going to do. He hadn't told anyone they were here, he didn't know anyone who could help. He couldn't believe that the only person he could think of to help was Draco Malfoy--the other person to go through the veil. The two of them were the smartest, most clever wizards he knew. Even if Draco was a prat, he was exceedingly intelligent and would be discreet. And Hermione...well she was brilliant. And quick-witted. At least he knew that she would be alright on the other side.
Light flooded the room and Hermione could no longer keep her eyes closed. She awoke and took a look around. She got off of the bed gingerly. She felt stiff, like her muscles hadn't moved in days. Of course, that could be true, she thought. She woke up in the same position that she had passed out in--flat on her stomach. She supposed that it was luck that she hadn't gone down face first or she would have smothered. There was no telling how long she had been asleep.
Her room had whitewashed walls of the same rough-hewn wood. Even the ceiling had been painted. The bed was a queen size covered in fluffy down comforter and pillows. It was perfect for her. There was a dresser and a small closet. Both were empty. A small bathroom connected the two bedrooms.
"Morning," Draco said rubbing his hair and running his hands through his hair. He began relieving himself right in front of her.
"Oh my goodness, Draco, have some decorum," she said rapidly exiting the bathroom into his bedroom.
"Please Granger, don't flatter yourself. I'm taking a piss, not seducing you," he drawled. She shot him a dirty look.
"So you're saying that you seduce women by whipping out your penis?" Hermione retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder as if to emphasize the point. It was already irritating Draco. He laughed too loud and then stopped and glared at her. Things were not progressing any better than last night.
"It was a joke Granger, lighten up," he said trying to lighten the mood. She was ready to snap at anything he said, but he didn't have to goad her on. Not much anyway.
"Yes, yes," she said dismisively. She went over to the window and stared out into a deeply forested expanse. She couldn't see anything else. The trees surrounded the cabin, too thick to pass through.
"The view from my room is the same--trees so thick that the sun can't reach the ground. And I can't see the sun. It's just light out," she announced. She wanted to call a truce as well.
"What about out the front door. I saw it last night," Draco asked, drying his hands on a small towel. He saw Hermione's questioning gaze and looked at his hands. "Oh, why didn't I wand them. My wand is on the dresser behind you. I thought I'd stay out of your way," he said, looking slightly embarassed. The truth was that he became acustomed to washing his hands when he was at Azkaban. Hermione probably didn't remember or care, but he had spent nearly a year at Azkaban until all of his trials had ended. He and his mother were the only ones to leave the prison. All because Harry Potter vouched for them.
"Come here, let's open the door together," Hermione said, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She wasn't sure what would be on the other side. Would it be another portal? Would someone be standing there? The worst possible scenarios played out in her mind before Draco sauntered over to join her. She couldn't tell if he was being slow to annoy her or because he was scared. It's probably both, she thought as she pulled the door open.
To their surprise, the door opened out to a small clearing in front of the cabin and a path wide enough for a small vehicle to drive through. They turned and looked at the outside of the cabin. The roof was covered in hand-cut shingles and the outside was painted white with pale blue trim.
"Still can't see the sun," Draco observed, looking all around. It was a hazy day, chilly but not cold. "A storm may be coming," he said pulling his coat around himself. Hermione wanted to say something snappy, but held back because it did feel like a storm was brewing. She began walking down the driveway to where it met with the main road. Draco jogged up behind her and began walking with her in silence.
They followed the road for over a mile before they saw another cabin. Draco climbed the stairs leading to the front door and knocked. He peeked in the windows when no one answered. He tried the door and it opened.
"You coming?" he called to her before turning and walking into the cabin. She jogged up to the door and hurried in behind him. She shut the door to keep out the cold.
"Basically the same layout only it has one bedroom instead of two," Draco said suddenly appearing from the bedroom. The waning sunlight was only enough to keep the cabing dimly lit.
"Either we need to decide to bunk here, or we need to get back to the other cabin quickly," Draco said urgently after peering out the window for a few moments. Hermione looked at him very closely.
"Are you able to read the weather?" Hermione asked, wondering if she needed to ask any other questions about his magic.
"I can't control weather and I certainly don't change the weather, but I can feel the weather," he said turning to leave. He didn't want to hear what she had to say about his special weather skill. In his mind, it just made him weird.
"Oh, so not a tempestarii," she said thinking of witches who control the weather.
"No," he said shortly and walked out the door. She carefully closed the door behind her, but there was no lock. She turned and saw that Draco had walked a considerable way up the path already. She jogged to catch up to him.
She walked with him in silence. It seemed the most diplomatic. She thought of several things to say that ultimately were just insults. Better to say nothing at all, she thought. It made Hermione feel badly that she couldn't think of anything worth saying to Draco.
"Have you seen any birds or wildlife?" he asked her after a long silence. His voice was low like he didn't want to disturb any living thing, but Hermione noticed that she hadn't heard a sound or seen any movement out of the corner of her eye.
"No, nothing. Not even crickets or bugs of any sort," she said relieved that there were no mosquitos, yet curious at the lack of insects. The trees were the only other living things.
"Hurry," Draco said as the wind picked up and began to swirl around them. Hermione quickened her pace and the two were nearly at a run by the time they got to the cabin. Snow was falling rapidly around them. The snowflakes were huge and piled up quickly. Hermione sat in front of a window watching the snow fall. Draco sat by the fire and looked out the window.
"Do you remember the day that you kept getting pelted with snowballs while you studied during Harry's quidditch practice?" Draco blurted out suddenly after no one had talked in over an hour.
"I always knew that was you, Malfoy," Hermione said remembering the day. The snow had melted on her notes and muddled the writing. She'd had to borrow Parvati's notes and they just weren't as thorough as her own. "As I recall, though, I sent a table full of snow over the heads of the perpetrators even though I couldn't see them," she said gleefully, recalling how that had actually ended.
"I forgot about that part. I think I got pneumonia that winter from all the snow that melted in my coat," Malfoy wrinkled his nose.
"Well, at least your nose isn't crooked from when I smashed it," Hermione said with a now classic hair toss. He was going to cut her hair off in her sleep if she didn't stop doing that, Draco thought. He snorted.
"Ha! You just sucker punched me. There was no broken nose, contrary to rumors," he said with a bit of a head toss of his own.
"You deserved it," she said, although she was thinking that she may have taken it too far when she punched Draco. She did it for Harry, though, and he was all that mattered.
"I don't think I did," he protested, ready to start an argument at any time. Hermione was looking for ways to take what he said wrong.
"I don't suppose you ever think you're wrong," Hermione stated.
"Neither do you," he threw back at her. Her eyes blazed fiercely. She was ready to fight, too.
The next morning, the two woke up much the same as they had the day before--passed out on top of their beds after falling asleep on their feet. They argued well into the night. This pattern repeated day after day. On the third day they ventured out in the snow on snowmobiles stored in a shed to the east of the house. There were ATVs stored there, too, for after the snow melted.
They drove out as far as a half a tank of gas would take them and then returned. They encountered several more empty cabins. The never saw another living thing except for the endless trees. No animal tracks, no vehicle tracks except for their own. It was eerily quiet and then explosively loud when they started up the snowmobiles.
The next morning, they traversed in another direction. Although the snowmobile was out of gas the night before, it was full the next morning. Same with the kitchen--eggs or vegetables or meat, fresh food appeared each morning. Clothes appeared in the drawers and closets. Although their needs were being met rather pleasantly, the two still argued about everything.
"I refuse to believe that you were going to tell me about that chocolate," Hermione yelled at Draco when she discovered a hidden stash of dark chocolate.
"I refuse to believe that you didn't know someone was watching you when you screwed Harry at the Ministry," Draco countered. They rehashed old arguments, picked on one another endlessly, and then just stopped talking to one another.
Winter continued around them. They explored as far as they could go but never found anything except more empty cabins of various sizes. And more trees. The trees were infuriating at this point. Too thick to get through, although something had been able to break through to create the paths and build the cabins.
None of their theories about where they were or why they were here worked out. Nothing about this place made sense. They came to doubt everything they saw because seeing was no longer believing. As soon as they noticed that there wasn't a sun or a moon, a sun appeared during the day and a moon appeared at night. It took time before the moon changed size through it's cycle.
Other things they wished for didn't happen. Hermione and Draco talked about how the snow would melt into rivers, but it never did. There was snow one day and not the next. Why there was even weather, they didn't know.
They developed a way to keep track of time after having several more instances of passing out. It seemed like someone grew weary of their arguments and put a sleeping spell on them. But there was no one else there. They were completely and utterly alone.
Three months went by, according to their time keeping. They built a sun dial and charmed it to keep time based on sunrise and sunset. Three months was a rough estimate but Hermione worried that it was up to five months that they had been in the cabin.
Hermione started recording her day in order to account for the lost time of when they were asleep. Draco joined her in journalling, more because he was bored and he discovered it was a good way to toss insults at Hermione.
"I do not snore!" she yelled at him after he recorded that she kept him up all night snoring. "Remove that out of the official records at once!" she demanded.
"Only if you take out the part you wrote about how I won't close the bathroom door when I'm taking a piss," he yelled back.
Another time they argued over who clogged the drain. Over who actually had the high O in Potions their fifth year. Over which direction they were going to drive in that day. The snow melted and they switched to ATVs.
"You better move so I can pass!" Draco shouted out as they raced down the path. They had gone every way they could go and still hadn't found anything, so they stopped. And started having fun.
"Oh I'm going to move alright," Hermione said squeezing the seat with her thighs and stepping hard on the gas. She took off out in front of him, whipping through the trees expertly. They knew these paths by heart, now. Draco caught up and passed her where the path was widest. He timed it just right and blazed out in front of her.
After they stopped talking to one another, things actually got better between the two. They began having deeper conversations. They finally relented and got to know one another better. Draco found himself lying to her less about his feelings or things he'd done. He tried to pass most of his misbehavior as youthful diversion, but they both knew it ran deeper. They both harbored a lot of anger from their time at Hogwarts.
"What made you order this awful wine?" Hermione asked holding a glass of said wine in her hand far away from her face.
"I didn't exactly order it, I just thought of it and then it was in the wine rack this morning," he answered. Things of this nature happened rather often in their existence. If they mentioned that they needed something, or even just desired some treat, that item would appear the next day. Their life really was a pleasant one. They didn't get along all of the time, but they were at least friendly now. Draco made her laugh and she made him want to act better.
"It's so, dark? Is that the word I'm looking for?" she asked with a nauseated look on her face after taking another sip.
"This wine is quite special, Hermione," Draco said. "It's the wine the Dark Lord gave me for my sixteenth birthday. Right before he marked me," he said. He hadn't meant to say the last part, it just came out. He drank deeply for a moment, remembering the bouquet as the scent hit him.
"I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean..." she trailed off. They'd both had moments like these. Ones where something was said that triggered a terrible memory of the past. They both felt badly afterwards. Neither wanted to trigger the other person, but it seemed unavoidable. They each had their own pain that they never worked out. Now they were essentially forced to because of the isolation.
"It's okay, Hermione," Draco said quietly.
"No, it's never going to be okay," she said angrily. She turned as if to begin yelling at him, but held her breath instead. She slowly let the air out while she counted to ten in her mind.
"I am going to sleep in the other cabin tonight. I feel rather mean from the wine or just in general and I don't want to say anything nasty," she said moving toward the door. Draco put on his stink face, confirming her thoughts that he was feeling a bit mean, too.
"That's never stopped you before," he said with the accompanying sneer.
"But it is now," she said, her voice shaking. She was having difficulty holding her tongue. Hermione reached the door and started turning the knob.
"Wait, stop," he said grabbing her by the arm and turning her toward him. "Don't go," he said looking into her eyes. She bit her lower lip and maintained the deep stare. She felt drawn to him and suddenly their bodies were touching. Just before their lips touched, there was a knock at the door. After all of this time, someone was at the door.
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Crossing the Veil