Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
- 27
A/N: I’m sorry I took so long to update. This was a rough couple of weeks for me…and this is a long chapter.
And wow to the reviews. You are all so lovely. Huge thank-yous to my cherished regulars and to my newest reviewers, BellaPrincipessa, ssdawning, FieryPhoenix, and T-W-O.
I hope I continue to earn your beautiful support.
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Draco scowled slightly as he stabbed at the pork chop on his plate with his fork. He glanced at the Gryffindor table and the scowl deepened. Potter had perfectly obscured his view of Hermione all meal. Draco glared at the head full of perpetually disheveled black hair. In less than an hour he was going to have to delve inside that thick head.

With a low groan, Draco set-down his fork.
“Still pouting about the Mudblood beating you in Potions?” Zabini asked casually as he raised his cup to take a sip. Draco shot him a glare.
“I couldn’t care less about that,” he snapped back.
“That’s not what it looked like in class,” Zabini replied coolly. Draco shrugged.
“Nothing wrong with making a good impression on the right people,” he said with a significant nod in Slughorn’s direction at the staff table. Zabini pursed his lips, but hummed in agreement.
“Why would you care what he thinks?” Pansy chimed in with a pouty sneer at Slughorn. The boys all turned to her.
“He’s well connected,” Nott answered her with an edge of condescension. Pansy rolled her eyes.
“He’s a house traitor…giving points and rewards to Mudblood Gryffindors. Snape would never,” she said with a disgusted shake of her head.
Draco leaned over to look at her directly. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret Parkinson,” he started in a business-like tone, “House points count for exactly dick in the real world. Getting into the good graces of someone that can help spin a positive image of you in the media will impress the Dark Lord significantly more than earning a few useless points.”
There was a subtle ripple of shock and awe amongst the boys listening at the mention of the Dark Lord, but Pansy merely narrowed her eyes at Draco.
“Like you’d know what He wants?” she challenged. Draco responded with defiant smirk.
“I know more about what He wants than you could ever imagine,” he answered glancing down and deliberately tracing a finger over his left forearm. He looked up at his housemates to see them all staring at him with wide eyes.
“You…you’re…you’re a…” Pansy stuttered as Crabbe and Goyle gawked at him with slack jaws.
“No, he’s not,” Zabini interrupted with clear skepticism. “The Dark Lord would never choose an unqualified sixteen-year-old for his ranks.”
Draco shrugged again and shoved his plate of uneaten dinner forward as he stood. “Believe what you like, Zabini. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”
With that he bowed his head, stepped over the bench, and exited the Great Hall without a backward glance.
As Draco approached the Headmaster’s office, his heart palpitated slightly as he thought about what he’d just done. Severus had told him to do it…to effectively tell the inner Slytherin circle that he was a Death Eater. Draco hadn’t worried much about it, as they had all known the first time and had kept his confidence, but now that the deed was done he grew anxious. Any of them could out him at anytime, and he had so much more to lose this time around if things went wrong.
When he was before the giant gargoyle, Draco hesitated, unable to bring himself to state the password. He slumped against the wall next to it and groaned. He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hands. This had to be the longest, most emotionally trying first day of school in history and it was still not over.
“Acid Pops.”
Draco moved his hands to his scalp at the sound of Snape announcing the password and looked over at him. Snape met his gaze with an understanding nod.
“After you,” he said flatly, motioning for Draco to go before him. Draco exhaled deeply, but kicked off the wall and went up the stairs. Once they were both in the office a moment later, Snape went straight to a closed door on the opposite side of the room. Draco hung back and watched as Snape made a series of taps on the door with his wand. On the fifth tap, the door cracked open and Snape turned to face Draco.
“In,” he commanded, pointing into the room beyond the door. Draco furrowed his brow, but joined Snape at the doorway.
“What’s in here?” he asked curiously, peering into the dimly lit room.
“Albus’s private living quarters,” Snape answered shortly. Draco raised an eyebrow at his partner, but pushed into the room. Snape followed in behind him. Several lamps flared to life at their entrance and Draco blinked around at the spacious room.
He was surprised to find that it looked very much like his own dorm, only larger and had a decidedly more flamboyant feel and Gryffindor-esque color scheme. One curtainless, king-sized four poster with deep red blankets stood before the far wall and a large oak desk, a giant wardrobe, and several large armchairs, book cases and cabinets filled the rest of the room. A tall, ancient-looking gold framed mirror stood in the far corner. The cherry wood floor was covered with various plush, flower patterned runners and several empty portraits hung upon the matte gold walls.
“Huh…I thought his quarters would’ve been larger,” Draco commented as he took a few tentative steps further into the room. “It’s not even half the size of the room Hermione and I had.”
Snape frowned a little. “The Liberium isn’t exactly an accurate portrayal of a normal staff member’s living space,” he said with a small shake of his head.
Draco looked at him curiously. “The Liber-what?”
Snape ignored his question and pointed at a chair for Draco to sit. “Did you tell her?”
“You mean did I tell Hermione that she’s stuck with me for life? Yeah…I did,” Draco said huffily, leaning back in the chair and running his hand through his hair.
“And her reaction?”
“She took it better than I did,” he answered with a shrug. “She has a much more optimistic outcome in mind for us than I do anyway.” Draco frowned slightly.
“You don’t believe in happy endings?” Snape asked impassively.
“Do you?”
“Not for everyone,” Snape answered honestly. He took a step back toward the door. “Albus has requested that I not be present when Potter enters the office, so I must be going,” he said rather resentfully. “Stay in here until Albus comes for you.” A dark look covered Draco’s face and Snape gave him a stern look.
“You will remain in control of yourself,” he threatened.
“You didn’t when you tried,” Draco retorted. Snape simply stared at him.
“You know nothing of my past with Potter,” he said irritably, “and it’s hardly relevant to…”
“Hardly relevant!? If you had managed to teach him Occlumency properly the first time then I wouldn’t be stuck here forced to play school with my one-time attempted murderer,” Draco snapped. Snape narrowed his eyes.
“Is it not true that you were once Albus’s attempted murderer?” he asked accusingly. “And did Potter not also save your life and vouch for you after the war?”
Draco made a face and glared at the floor. Snape glowered at him. “You have an unfortunate habit of thinking that you are the only one being forced into uncomfortable situations,” he said edgily. Draco glanced up at Snape only to see his back as he left the room without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And what kind of creep goes spoutin’ out the smells he finds attractive to the whole class?” Ron scoffed as he reached for another helping of pudding.

“You told us what your smells were,” Hermione reminded him, careful to keep the defensiveness she felt out of her voice. Ron frowned at her.
“Yeah, but I didn’t announce it to everyone. And who the hell thinks fire smells sexy?” he asked as he took a bite and shook his head.
“Fire can be very alluring. I happen to think that the smell of a campfire is very pleasing,” Hermione replied lightly as she grabbed for her cup.
“You never did tell us what your smells were, Hermione,” Harry noted with a sly smile.
“No, I didn’t,” Hermione answered plainly as she took a sip of pumpkin juice. She laughed into her cup at the expectant stares that followed her remark. “I’m not telling you.”
“Oh, come on. We told you ours,” Ron pleaded. Hermione exhaled sharply as she looked around at her friends’ eager faces. Did any of them know what Draco smelled like? Maybe Draco only smelled like that for her…
“I smelled new parchment,” she finally answered reluctantly.
“Why am I not surprised?” Ron smirked.
“That can’t possibly be it,” Susan said leaning forward to look at Hermione.
“Then you don’t know Hermione very well,” Ron laughed. “Only woman I know that gets turned-on by homework.” Hermione’s chest burned with resentment.
“As a matter of fact I did smell something else,” she said defiantly.
“Yeah…ink and old text books!” he guffawed, holding his stomach. Hermione stood abruptly and stepped over the bench. She looked angrily down at Ron.
“I smelled sandalwood and warm sugar. Two things you could never hope to be sophisticated enough to smell like,” she sneered. Ron looked up at her with a crooked grin.
“I wouldn’t want to smell like that,” he laughed again, “Why’d I want to smell like some snooty arsehole?”
Hermione blanched and instinctively looked across the Great Hall to Draco’s empty seat. She snapped her gaze back to Ron who now had his eyebrows raised, then to Harry who looked genuinely intrigued and then finally to Ginny and Susan who were staring at each other with matching grins. Hermione inwardly kicked herself.
“Harry, I think we ought to get to Professor Dumbledore’s office now,” she said brusquely.
“Yeah, okay,” he said gently with a leery glance between her and Ron. Ron simply shook his head and grabbed for more dessert. Harry kissed Ginny on the shoulder before getting up to follow Hermione who’d already begun a hasty retreat to the exit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ah, Harry, Hermione. Good evening,” Dumbledore said genially as the two approached him as he stood outside of the gargoyle. “I trust you had a pleasant first full day back?”
“Yes, sir,” Harry nodded politely. Hermione gave the Headmaster a rather challenging look.
“I learned some very interesting things,” she answered dubiously. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at her as he hummed in response.
“Yes, and I daresay you will learn a great many more,” he said enigmatically. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Harry noticed the sudden tension between his friend and Headmaster and shifted his feet.
“Um…are we going to have our class in your office, professor?” he asked hesitantly. Dumbledore smiled and looked back at him.
“Yes indeed, Harry. We will begin shortly. Your professor is already waiting, though if you would, please wait here a moment while I check to see that he is prepared to begin.”
Harry nodded and Hermione simply stared. Dumbledore nodded at them and then, after saying the password, disappeared up the stairs. Harry looked sideways at Hermione.
“Are you all right?”
Hermione inhaled deeply. “I’m fine, Harry. Why?”
Harry shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem… like something is really bothering you.”
“Perhaps just a bit overwhelmed. It’s been a very long day,” she sighed.
“I’m sorry Ron’s been a git to you today,” Harry said sincerely. “That can’t have helped.”
“Don’t apologize for him,” she said sternly. “He won’t change…”
“No…but I’m sorry all the same.”
“I appreciate that Harry, but really…that’s not what’s bothering me.”
“Then what is it? Is it Mr. Perfect…do you need to use my cloak again?” he offered. Hermione smiled slowly and then hugged him. Harry stiffened momentarily at the unexpected gesture, but quickly relaxed against his friend and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“All I need right now is for you to promise me that you will try your absolute hardest to master this extra class, Harry,” she sighed into his ear. Harry unconsciously leaned his face into her neck and breathed deep.
“I promise.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dumbledore tapped the familiar sequence against his door and gently cracked it open.
“Draco?”
Receiving no response, Dumbledore pushed the door open all the way and stepped into his quarters. A small sniffle brought his attention to the far corner of the room. Draco was there, knelt before the tall mirror with his hands pressed against the glass.
“Draco…” Dumbledore said gently as he crossed the room to him. Draco made no acknowledgement of his presence and continued to stare straight ahead. He softly stroked his right hand down the mirror.
“Scorpius,” he whimpered. Dumbledore placed a hand to Draco’s shoulder. “They’re here. They’re all here,” Draco whispered, still not looking away. “Hermione, our children… I see them…”
Dumbledore nodded to himself. “They are images only, Draco. This mirror shows only that which we desire most. Nothing can be gained from lingering here,” he said as he pulled at his shoulder. Draco roughly shucked his shoulder from Dumbledore’s grip and clung to the mirror. Dumbledore grabbed both of Draco’s shoulders and attempted to pull him back.
“No!” Draco shouted desperately. His hands reached for the mirror as Dumbledore re-gripped him around the middle and yanked him away. “No!” he pleaded again as he kicked at the floor and wriggled in an effort to escape the old man’s surprisingly strong hold.
“Draco! It is not real! The real Hermione is downstairs waiting. You must not dwell here,” Dumbledore said firmly as he struggled to control the blond.
“But Scorpius is there!” Draco cried.
“I know,” Dumbledore breathed into his ear, “I know.” Draco finally slumped against the Headmaster’s body and quietly sobbed.
“I want him back. I want to go back,” he whispered miserably in Dumbledore’s arms.
“You will get him back, but you can only move forward now, Draco,” Dumbledore replied softly. He pulled Draco to his feet and pushed him back into a large armchair beside the mirror away from its reflection. He looked down at him.
“If you are truly devoted to what you saw in that mirror…”
“You know that I am!” Draco interrupted. “I’ll do anything for her…for my son.”
“Then we ought to get started,” Dumbledore said kindly. Draco took several steadying breaths and then scooted to the edge of the chair. He looked longingly towards the mirror for a moment and then blinked up at the Headmaster and nodded. Dumbledore nodded back once and then began to wave his wand around Draco’s head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“We’re ready to begin,” Dumbledore said lightly as he motioned for Harry and Hermione to enter his office. Harry went-up at once, but Hermione held back.
“You’re sure this is a good idea?” she whispered. Dumbledore simply smiled serenely.
“You don’t want to keep your professor waiting Miss Granger,” he said with another nod to the stairs. Hermione frowned slightly but ascended the spiral steps. She met Harry at the top and Dumbledore came up right behind.
“Go on in,” he ordered. Harry pushed open the door and the three of them entered the office. Hermione looked around quickly to see the office empty but for an unfamiliar man dressed in plain black robes standing beside the Headmaster’s desk.
The man had Draco’s build, but had long, light brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. His face looked equal parts kind and intimidating. A set of thin lips was pursed below a pointy nose and above an even pointier goatee. Hermione’s chocolate eyes locked with the man’s hazel as she approached the center of the room with Harry. The man winked.
“Harry, Hermione, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Professor Janus Sarkany,” Dumbledore said with a slight bow towards the brunette man. Hermione looked at Dumbledore and raised her eyebrows. He simply continued to smile.
“Professor Sarkany, this is Mr. Harry Potter and I’m sure you remember Miss Granger. They will be your pupils for this course.” ‘Professor Sarkany’ gave the two a restrained smile.
“Pleasure,” he replied in a low, gravelly voice. Hermione’s jaw fell open a little.
“Nice to meet you, professor,” Harry said politely. Sarkany looked Harry up and down for a moment and then shifted his gaze to Hermione. He gave her a similar once over and when she did not greet him, but continued to gawk, he raised a thin eyebrow. Harry nudged her in the ribs with his elbow.
“Oh…I…sorry…Professor. It is nice to see you again,” she stammered. The corner of Sarkany’s mouth twitched up. Dumbledore clapped his hands together.
“Now…as the introductions are out of the way, I believe I will leave you to it. Will you be needing anything more from me before I go, Professor?” Dumbledore asked Sarkany.
“You’re leaving us alone!?” Hermione blurted out. All three men looked at her in surprise. Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at her.
“Yes, Miss Granger. I have a few things I must attend to. I can assure you that Professor Sarkany is quite capable. And I trust I can count on you all to be respectful to one another?”
Hermione glanced at Sarkany who nodded and then back at Dumbledore before also nodding slowly.
“Very good. Then I will return in an hour, though should you need me before then, I will be just a Patronus away,” he finished with a slight bow. With a last twinkling look at his students, he turned and left the office.
The moment the door clicked closed, Sarkany pulled his wand and levitated the Headmaster’s desk chair as well as the two chairs in front of the desk to the center of the room to rest before them. He quickly transfigured the plush chairs into plain, armless wooden ones. He grabbed hold of the back of the chair in front of him and turned it around and sat down backward on it with a leg on either side and rested his arms over the back. He motioned for Hermione and Harry to do the same.
Harry shot Hermione an amused glance, and turned his chair and straddled it backward. Hermione frowned at her chair and then down at her skirt. She left the chair facing the right way and sat down on it properly. Sarkany smiled slightly and then regarded his two pupils.
“I think,” he began, “that you will find this class to be the simplest and yet most difficult that you will ever take. There will be no note taking. There will be no exams. There will be no essays. And you will need only one piece of equipment.” He tapped a finger to his skull.
“There will, however,” he continued, “be more than a few practical sessions. In fact, this class will be almost entirely short explanation followed by extensive practice…practice that may at times be highly uncomfortable.”
“What are we going to be learning?” Harry asked with a hint of apprehension. Sarkany looked at him sternly.
“Do you address all of your professors so informally and without permission?” he asked severely. Harry blushed and shrank back a little. Hermione held her breath as she looked between the two.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry apologized. Sarkany’s eyes lit-up with a strange glint.
“You will call me ‘sir’ or ‘Professor.’ And you will not speak out of turn. Do not make the mistake of thinking that because I am a temporary teacher that I will be lenient. Disrespect me again, and you will find yourself with a detention,” he said with a hint of pleasure.
“You can’t,” Hermione said affronted. It was Harry’s turn to hold his breath as he stared wide-eyed at his friend. Sarkany turned his face to her with a cool, professional expression.
“I assure you, Miss Granger, that I can…and I will. In fact, congratulations. You’ve just earned yourself a detention… this Saturday, all day…with me.” He added the signal, ‘in our room.’
Hermione’s insides seared with a sudden jolt of arousal. She shifted in her chair and gave him a ‘you bastard’ look. He smirked and looked back at Harry.
“Now, to answer your question, Potter, I will be attempting to teach you Occlumency,” Sarkany said calmly. The look of fear that contorted Harry’s face did not go unnoticed.
“Not to worry, Potter. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your rather unique circumstance concerning a connection with the Dark Lord. It is for that reason that he volunteered you to participate in this course. I understand also that this will be your second attempt at learning Occlumency?”
Harry nodded tentatively. “Yes, sir.”
“Why do you think it is that you were unsuccessful the first time?” Sarkany asked sincerely. Hermione looked sideways at Harry as he frowned at his arms folded in front of him across the chair back.
“I’d rather not say, sir,” he answered quietly. Sarkany pursed his thin lips.
“Look at me, Potter,” he commanded. Harry looked him in the eyes and immediately felt his head being invaded. He made a pitiful attempt at closing his mind as Snape had told him, but found instead that doing so simply aided Sarkany in seeing further into his memories. Images of every painfully frustrating Occlumency lesson and, to Harry’s horror, the memory he’d seen of his father taunting Snape came into clear view behind his eyes.
Sarkany pulled-out of Harry’s mind and furrowed his brow deeply as Harry glared at the floor in shame. “Potter?”
Harry looked back up at him nervously. “Yes, sir?”
“I want you to forget anything that Professor Snape ever taught you about Occlumency.”
Harry laughed despite himself. “That won’t be difficult to do, Professor.”
Sarkany gave an annoyed hum and then turned to Hermione. “Your turn, Miss Granger.”
“What?” she asked slightly alarmed. She had not expected to actually be learning. Dumbledore said she’d only be a mediator…
“Let’s see what you know about Occlumency,” he said giving her a penetrating stare. Hermione immediately felt him prod at her mind with his own. “May I come in, love?” she heard Draco’s voice ring through her head. Her wary brown eyes searched his changed hazel before she consented.
“Okay,” she whispered.
At once, Hermione felt him push-in and dozens of images pushed forth as every memory she had of Draco flipped rapidly like the pages of a book in her mind.
He was calling her Mudblood. He was making fun of her teeth…of her hair…of Ron…of Harry…of her parents. He was playing Quidditch. She was punching him. He was a ferret. He was smirking in Umbridge’s office. He was sneering at her. He was screaming; surrounded by flame. He was passing her in the halls of the Ministry without acknowledgment. He was holding Scorpius in St. Mungo’s. He was at King’s Cross. He was healing her shoulder. He was laughing. He was kissing her. He was on his knees. He was crawling on top of her. He was handing her a sack of Galleons. He was holding her beneath a starry sky…
Draco pulled back quickly; breathing heavy as Hermione doubled over and placed both hands to her head.
“That was… enlightening,” he said shakily. “I gather you have a great many things you’d rather like to keep secret, Miss Granger…”
She nodded mutely and slowly sat back up as Harry reached over and rubbed her back encouragingly. Sarkany narrowed his eyes.
“Hands to yourself, Potter!” he snapped sharply. A mixed expression of anger and confusion came across Harry’s face, but he obediently withdrew his hand. Hermione moved her hand to her face.
“Calm down,” she signaled. Sarkany huffed, but gave her an almost nonexistent nod.
“Now,” he pressed-on. “Occlumency is not easily learned. Not usually, anyway. However, both of your minds appear strong enough to move forward.” He clasped his hands together casually over the back of the chair and Hermione’s eyes bugged out. There on Sarkany’s hand was Draco’s family ring with the Malfoy crest gleaming at her.
“Hey! What’s that!?” Hermione shouted suddenly, pointing to the ceiling. Harry and Sarkany-Draco both looked-up in alarm and she swiftly reached forward and took hold of Draco’s hand. He looked down just in time to see her yank the ring from his finger. He looked up at her with wide eyes.
“What’s what, Hermione?” Harry asked confused, still looking at the ceiling. “I don’t see anything.”
“Sorry,” she said as she carefully pocketed the ring, “I thought I saw something move. Must have been a trick of the light.”
Harry lowered his face and looked at her suspiciously. Sarkany cleared his throat loudly.
“Yes, now if we may continue with the lesson…” he said impatiently as he rubbed his finger.
“Of course…sorry, sir,” Hermione said softly. Sarkany’s lips twitched and he shifted slightly in the chair.
“Right,” he said coolly, “Now, from what I could see, Sev…Professor Snape explained that the key to Occlumency was letting go of all emotion. Is that correct?”
Harry nodded grimly. “Yes, sir.”
Sarkany shook his head in disapproval. “I’m not at all surprised that you failed with that approach. The key to Occlumency is not letting go of all emotion or simply blocking access. It is actually the opposite.”
Harry and Hermione both looked at him skeptically. Sarkany let out a low chuckle.
“I know it sounds incongruous, but …how to explain. I think perhaps a quick practical will work best.” He looked Harry hard in the face. “Potter…I want you to think about something...anything. I will then try and decipher your thoughts and emotions, and I want you to try and block me by using Professor Snape’s technique. Ready?”
Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Sarkany pushed in and immediately could sense Harry’s thoughts. He released Harry’s mind and smiled.
“Treacle tart is delicious, however not my favorite dessert,” he said superiorly. “That is what you were thinking about, yes? That treacle tart is your favorite food?”
“Yes, sir,” Harry affirmed.
“Okay. Now, I want you to think about it again. Hold it at the back of your mind, but this time, instead of trying to ignore your thought, I want you to simply push everything you’ve ever learned to the front of your mind at the same time. Understand?”
Harry blinked at him as he thought about the instruction. “I…I think so, Professor.”
“Okay…go,” Sarkany said as a look of hard concentration formed on Harry’s face. Harry immediately tried to think of everything he’d ever learned at the same time. He could feel Sarkany try to push in, searching for the treacle tart, but his other thoughts created what felt like a blank wall. It was impossible for Harry to even differentiate his own thoughts. Trying to think of everything meant he couldn’t focus on anything. He felt Sarkany retreat.
“That was an impressive first go, Potter, but did you hold the treacle tart at the back?”
Harry furrowed his brow a little in disappointment. “No, sir. I was too busy trying to think of everything.”
“Hmm. A mental block is the easiest part of Occlumency to learn, though it is not nearly enough. But as you managed it in lesson one, we’ll count that as a small gain,” Sarkany said more to himself than to Harry.
“Why is that only a small gain if he blocked you?” Hermione asked slightly incensed.
“Do you have a desire to spend your nights in detention with me, Miss Granger?” Sarkany asked in a serious tone.
Hermione said ‘no’ while signing ‘yes.’ Sarkany choked a little.
“Then address me correctly,” he reproved after clearing his throat. “And to answer your question, it is only a small gain because having nothing to display to an intruder is just as dangerous as displaying everything. Everyone is always thinking something, so to show nothing is highly suspicious. Show the Dark Lord an entirely blank mind and you’ll earn yourself a crucio before you can blink twice.”
Sarkany’s eyes suddenly became distant and he cast his gaze to the floor. Harry gave Hermione a concerned look, but she was staring at Sarkany - looking very much like she was about to be sick.
“Pro…Professor, are you all right?” she asked with obvious worry.
“Of course, lo..Her…Miss Granger.” He shook his head as if to clear it and chuckled nervously. “My apologies.”
He looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione with a forced smile. “Now then,” he continued, “where were we…ah yes. Occlumency is not simply blocking, it is also protecting… manipulating. If you were a master Occlumens you would be able to maintain a positive image of treacle tart in your mind while simultaneously hiding it behind a block and pushing other thoughts forward to make a mental intruder think that you hated treacle tart...even in your sleep.”
“That sounds impossible,” Harry lamented. Sarkany gave him a grim smile.
“For most people it is.”
“Do you think we will be able to manage it…sir,” Hermione asked anxiously.
“I hope so,” Sarkany answered heavily, “but it will take a lot of work.” He looked at his two pupils very seriously. “I’m warning you now…this class will not be fun. Our lessons will push your minds and your will power to their limits. And, as I said, you will be uncomfortable. You will be baring your innermost thoughts and emotions to me. And I will not go easy on you. But know this,” he shifted in his chair and looked Harry directly in the eyes, “once you become master of your own mind, you will be able to outwit even your most powerful enemy…without him being any the wiser.”
Harry swallowed hard and his breath caught as he stared into Sarkany’s unflinching face and an understanding passed between them. This was not just an extra class.
After a moment Sarkany leaned back a little and addressed them both again. “Are you willing to continue?”
“Yes, sir,” Harry answered at once. Hermione took a deep breath.
“Ready whenever you are, Professor,” she answered.
“Oh, I’m always ready, Miss Granger,” he answered silkily. He gave her a furtive wink and then hardened his gaze. “Now, let’s see how well you can block…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Holy fuck,” Harry cursed as he attempted to get-up from the floor. He winced at the pain in his head and then shot a frightened glance up at Sarkany standing over him. “Sorr..sorry, sir.”
Sarkany shrugged. “You can curse as much as you want here, Potter. As long as it’s not directed at me I really don’t give a shite. In fact, I imagine all of us will be doing a fair amount of cursing in lessons to come.”
“So, how well did he do that time, Professor?” Hermione interrupted hopefully. Sarkany cracked his neck and huffed in exhaustion.
“He’s on the floor. You tell me,” he said gruffly.
“Everything all right in here?”
Sarkany, Hermione and Harry all snapped their heads around to see Dumbledore smiling expectantly at them from the office doorway.
“Everything is fine, Headmaster,” Sarkany said calmly as Harry got to his feet. “Mr. Potter is simply experiencing some fatigue. I must confess he made quite a commendable effort for this first lesson.”
“Excellent,” Dumbledore replied with a happy nod. “And Miss Granger?”
Sarkany glanced at Hermione with a grin. “Despite her rudeness, she did quite excellent as well.”
“Rudeness?” Dumbledore asked reproachfully, looking to Hermione. She frowned at Sarkany and shook her head.
“Yes,” Sarkany went on, “I’m afraid I had to give her a detention. She seems rather reluctant to address me properly.”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at Sarkany and he hummed. “I am surprised to hear that. She has not had any similar complaints from her other professors.” He looked at Hermione again. “Miss Granger?”
“I did not intend to be disrespectful. I’ll be more mindful in the future, Professor,” she replied repentantly.
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Dumbledore nodded. “Now, then. As it is getting rather late, I think you ought to resume things on Wednesday. Will that work for you, Professor?”
Sarkany nodded.
“Very well. Come along Harry. We must get you back to your dorm,” Dumbledore said, motioning to the door. Harry stepped forward and Hermione went to follow until Dumbledore held a hand up to her.
“You will stay here and work-out the details of your detention with Professor Sarkany,” he said to her with a knowing look over his spectacles. Hermione nodded sheepishly, and Harry gave her a sympathetic look over his shoulder as Dumbledore ushered him out of the office.
"Finally," Draco sighed when the door clicked shut. “That was excruciating.”
Hermione rubbed her temples. “I know,” she said with an exhausted puff.
“I’m sorry I had to do that to you.”
“I’m not,” Hermione said seriously. “I’ve always wanted to learn Occlumency, but I never really had the opportunity. The Ministry wouldn’t approve the training for me since I wasn’t in the field, and we really couldn’t afford for me to take private lessons.”
Draco re-transfigured and then levitated the chairs back to their places as Hermione went on.
“You know…I think you may have missed your true calling in your old life. You make a rather extraordinary professor. I’ve never seen Harry so attentive, or work so hard to learn something before. I’m quite impressed.”
Draco smiled and sidled up to her. “It’s all about knowing how to read people, love. Potter is both self-righteous and self-conscious. He needs a firm hand, but can’t be ordered around either. He rebels when he thinks he’s being treated unfairly and excels when he thinks he’s doing something for the greater good…especially if that something in some way causes him suffering. His personality craves martyrdom.”
For a brief moment, Hermione felt the urge to defend Harry’s character, but found herself unable to deny Draco’s assessment. Though it was perhaps unfair to suggest he wanted to be a martyr.
“There’s more to Harry than that,” she finally replied. Draco shrugged.
“I don’t really need nor want to know any more than that...not yet anyway,” he said with a shudder.
“Are our future lessons really going to be that uncomfortable?”
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and exhaled sharply. “If he really wants to master it, then yes.”
They remained quiet for a few minutes until Hermione looked up at his changed appearance and wrinkled her nose.
"This is creepy. It feels wrong for you to be holding me when you look and sound like a different man," she said as she reached her hand up to stroke his longer hair. Her hand passed through it as if it were air. She moved her hand forward to touch his goatee and all she could feel was Draco's bare chin.
"Glamours," she said casually.
"So, what do I look like?" he asked, trying in an almost comical fashion to see his own chin. "Albus didn't give me time to look."
Hermione laughed a little as she slid her hand into her pocket and retrieved her mirror. "Get out yours," she ordered.
He lifted one of his hands from her waist and pulled-out his mirror. Hermione held her mirror up so Draco could see the picture and he held his up next to hers so they could both see both images. There looking back at them was a clear picture of Hermione's face next to the now very sour looking face of Professor Sarkany.
"I look like an idiot."
"You do not," Hermione laughed.
"Really? A goatee? It's ridiculous." Draco shook his head in disapproval as he lowered his mirror.
"What is ridiculous is your fake name. Please tell me you didn’t pick it?"
"No. Albus did. Why?" Draco asked as he pocketed his mirror and wrapped his arm back around Hermione's waist.
She shook her head a little and laughed again. "Janus is the god of transition. He has two faces: one that looks to the past and one that looks to the future. And Sarkany is a species of extinct Hungarian dragon. So Janus Sarkany basically means 'two-faced dragon.'"
Draco rolled his eyes. “Crazy old man.”
Hermione laughed again as she put her mirror back in her pocket. She reached into her robes and pulled out her wand. A finite had Draco looking like Draco once more.
“So much better,” she sighed rubbing her palm over his cheek. Draco raised his hand to cover hers and she noticed the indent on his finger from his missing ring.
“Oh,” she said softly as she put away her wand and then reached back into her pocket to pull out the ring. She held it up between them. “Sorry I yanked it off of you like that. I couldn’t risk Harry recognizing it.” Draco released her and took the ring from her. He stared down at it thoughtfully for a moment and then looked back up at Hermione.
“No, I’m glad you did. I can’t believe I forgot to take it off. Though, I’ve worn it for so long that it feels more like an appendage than a ring. This is the first time I’ve had it off since I received it.”
“When was that?” Hermione asked curiously, looking at the ring as Draco rolled it between his fingers.
“When I was eleven. My grandfather gave it to me when I received my Hogwarts letter.” He looked thoughtful again. He reached for Hermione’s left hand and lifted it between them. Hermione’s heart hammered as she watched Draco slide the ring onto her ring finger.
“It looks good on you,” he said softly as he admired the goblin-forged silver on her delicate hand. He glanced up at her uncertainly. “So, what…what do you think?”
“It’s a little big,” Hermione answered truthfully, looking at the large face of the ring. Draco grimaced a little.
“No, I mean…what do you think about…about…being a Malfoy one day?”
Hermione’s heart and stomach both lurched and somersaulted at the thought. She gave him a shaky smile. “I…I don’t know. A few months ago I never would have believed that I’d ever have to consider it.”
“I know,” Draco replied quietly, looking a bit crestfallen. “I felt the way you used to view me in those memories,” he said sadly as he went to pull the ring from her finger. Hermione stopped his hand.
“Used to view,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Surely you felt the way I feel about you now as well.”
A smug smile worked its way back onto Draco’s face as he rubbed his thumb over the ring on Hermione’s hand. “Yes,” he whispered. He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. “So, then…how do you feel about being a Malfoy?”
“I’m not a Malfoy,” she answered sassily.
Draco growled a little. “Well you will be.”
Hermione raised a brow at him. “Is that so? A Muggle-born Malfoy with a discipline problem? Your ancestors will be rolling in their graves.”
Draco laughed and leaned into her. “They’re already spinning. And I love how naughty you are,” he said resting his forehead against hers.
“So my detention…” Hermione breathed with a feisty smirk. Draco returned an even feistier one.
“I suggest you get a good night’s sleep on Friday.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry’s mind churned relentlessly as he walked in silence beside Dumbledore through the halls.
Hermione had made him promise to try his hardest. She knew what they were going to be doing. But then why did she deny knowing the course subject earlier? And she never acted like that in front of professors. She knew it wasn’t a regular course…not even a trial one.
“Professor?” Harry asked hesitantly as they walked.
“Yes, Harry?”
“The Board of Governors didn’t really arrange that class, did they?”
Dumbledore looked sideways at Harry with a small smile. “No, they did not,” he answered quietly.
“You want Professor Sarkany to finish what Sna…Professor Snape started last year,” Harry said just as quietly. It was not a question. Dumbledore simply nodded.
“But…but then why did you include Hermione, sir?”
Dumbledore stopped walking. Harry stutter-stepped to a stop and turned to him. “Sir?”
The Headmaster gave him a weighty look. “I’m afraid your friend has rather a large secret that, for everyone’s sake, must be kept a secret. At least for now.”
Harry paled a little. “Do you mean…her relationship with Mr. Perfect?”
Dumbledore chuckled slightly. “Indeed I do.”
“He’s important somehow?”
“Quite,” Dumbledore answered with a nod. “In the end, it will be the three of you that will defeat Voldemort.”
Harry’s jaw fell open and he gaped at the old man before him. He composed himself quickly. “When will I learn who he is?” he asked anxiously. Dumbledore looked down at him with that ever present twinkle.
“When he thinks you are ready.”
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Songs of Regret