Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In the Arms of her Dragon	By : Wolf.Blossom Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 101564 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 50
Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and all characters. I am not making any profit form this fiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
In the Arms of Her Dragon
"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."
.xx.
"You're really not coming?" Harry asked as he and the other eighth years were getting ready to head out to the village. Hermione, who was still dressed in her pajama pants and a tank top, was sitting on the couch with a couple of books and a steaming hot mug of coffee (she had somehow gotten it delivered to the Common Room thanks to a house elf. How, or why, nobody knew or wanted to know).
Hermione nodded. "I have work to do. When all of you come begging me for help when it's time for our NEWTs, I want to be prepared."
"Lass has a valid point," Seamus winked. Hermione laughed and simply rolled her eyes.
"Come on, Hermione." Ron whined. Hermione shot him a curt look that clearly said be quiet, Ronald. You know you're going to be the first one in line to ask for my help.
"If Hermione wants to study, let her," Fay sighed. "When's the last time any of us convinced her to do anything in place of studying?"
The eighth years murmured at how Fay had a point and they wouldn't be able to tear Hermione away from her books. They bade her farewell; the girls and Harry gave her a hug and Ron awkwardly patted her head. Even eight years and many near-death experiences later, Ronald Weasley was still as awkward as ever.
The group of eighth years left the portrait and Hermione saw a glimpse of the Hufflepuff eighth years and a few Ravenclaw eighth years as well. Luna Lovegood, who was supposed to be a seventh year, was granted permission to take the classes the eighth years were taking because she had been a big part of the war. As such she was regarded as an eighth year instead of a seventh.
With a final wave courtesy of Kellah, the portrait door shut and Hermione was left in solitude in the Gryffindor common room. She heard soft giggling and glanced to her left to see a few first years descending from their dormitory.
"Morning, Hermione," one of the girls smiled and Hermione returned the greeting.
"Headed to class?" The eighth year war-hero inquired and the girl who greeted her – Hermione recalled her name was Antoinette – nodded.
"Yes, we have flying lessons today with Madam Hooch." Antoinette said, her bubbly personality shining. Her two friends beside her were grinning ear-to-ear, evidently excited about their first flying lesson. Hermione knew that the petit blond beside Antoinette (Casey? Was that the name the Sorting Hat called when he summoned her?) was muggle-born just like her.
Hermione was also getting ready to bust some balls if the little girl came back to the common room, crying, because some nasty Slytherins were badgering her. Though the Slytherins fifth year and up had given up on the blood supremacy ideology, some of the younger ones still asserted their faux power.
"Flying is fun… well, so say Ron and Harry." Hermione cringed. "I've never been too fond if flying."
Antoinette's eyes widened. "Really? My father gave me flying lessons before I received my letter in August; I had a lot of fun."
Casey cringed. "Flying seems scary."
Hermione laughed. "Well, I have to concur with you there. If you guys want, I can ask Ron and Harry to give you some lessons; you know, the Seeker and the Keeper of the Gryffindor team…"
Antoinette blushed; she so had a crush on either Ron or Harry. Hermione made it a personal mission to figure out who it was. Casey still seemed unsure and the third girl (whose name Hermione did not know) squealed with giddy delight. "Ron!? The Ronald Weasley? Oh please, oh please, oh please can you have him give me a lesson?"
"June, shut up." Antoinette scolded. "Don't seem desperate."
Hermione laughed. "Oh don't worry. There've been a lot of girls throughout the years that wanted lessons from one or the other. Tell you what, let me know how your lessons go and right before Harry holds try-outs for the Quidditch team, I'll ask them to give you girls a lesson… and anyone else if they're interested."
Antoinette threw her arms around Hermione. "You're awesome, Hermione."
"Tell me something I don't know," Hermione laughed as she returned the hug. Casey and June exchanged excited glances and thanked Hermione before the three young girls departed from the common room. Shortly after they left, the two remaining Gryffindor first year girls and the seven first year boys made it through the common room. They were all heading to flying lessons.
Finally, after peace and quiet embraced Hermione, she began to look through a few books that spoke about enchanted jewelry and parchment.
Parchment paper is one of the greatest assets to the Wizarding World. Unlike your wand, which depends on your technique and skill, parchment paper can be manipulated to do what you want, whenever you want it to. Parchment is used for various things: note-taking, book-writing, diary-keeping and so on. We, however, will not focus on any of that but rather on the more useful uses of parchment paper… to conduct mischief.
Hermione's eyes widened as her eyes zoned in on the word 'mischief.' Why does that word seem so familiar…? Hermione thought before flipping through the book further.
As students, mischief is the one thing that they wish to conduct. Students, be it first year or seventh, want to be up to entirely no good and wish to have no record of what they did after they've managed their mischief.
Hermione's eyes bugged as she slammed the book shut and took a good look at the authors.
The Method behind the Marauders
By: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
"No way," Hermione breathed as she ran her fingers over the authors' names. "They wrote a book on how they made the Marauder's Map?"
A familiar tap sounded through the common room and Hermione saw Bubo Bubo staying afloat just outside the window. Carefully putting the book down, she hurried over and slid the window open, allowing Bubo Bubo to fly in. He dropped the letter and perched on top of the fireplace. Picking up the rolled paper, Hermione made her way to Bubo and stroked him just under the chin. As much as she did not want to admit it, the flying rat was growing on her.
Granger,
Quidditch field. Noon.
Be there.
D.M.
Hermione snorted. "Way to ask me, Malfoy."
P.S: Don't get snooty. I asked you yesterday and you said yes.
Hermione raised both eyebrows. "Oh… kay…" Folding up the letter, she shoved it into her pajama back-pocket and quickly gathered up her books. Whistling once, Hermione ushered for Bubo to come over and he did, perching comfortably on her shoulder. Making her way up to the dormitory, Hermione decided to get changed and put her books away before going to meet up with Mister Draco Malfoy.
Bubo Bubo stayed on Hermione's shoulder, happily hooting. He was probably trying to start conversation so Hermione decided to humour him: "I know, Malfoy is a tool."
The owl hooted twice and Hermione figured that he concurred with her. "Hm, I like you Bubo."
The owl gently pecked her head. Hermione laughed, he probably kissed her.
.xx.
Dressed in a plaid skirt and a white blouse, Hermione made her way to the Quidditch pitch to find a checkered red and white blanket was laid out on the center of the field. Atop the blanket was a picnic basket and Draco Malfoy (sporting jeans, a red t-shirt and a blazer to complete his ensemble). As Hermione approached him, Draco glanced over his shoulder and smirked.
"Before you ask, don't ask. A Malfoy never reveals his secret."
That stopped Hermione from asking him how he knew that she was going to react to him not asking her to come to the Quidditch field. Instead, she asked him how he knew she was going to ask him how he knew that she reacted to him not asking but rather telling her to come to the Quidditch field.
I confuse myself. Hermione muttered to herself at the end of that notion. Her head hurt; sometimes she didn't even make sense to herself.
"Like I said," he patted the blanket beside him, "a Malfoy never reveals his secret."
"Right." Hermione muttered, thinking how what he said was a mantra that muggle magicians repeated over and over again.
As Hermione got comfortable, Draco opened the picnic basket and pulled out all the treats that he packed: chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans, sandwiches, juice, salad… and much more. Hermione could only gawk as he pulled out everything and anything possible from the basket.
"Did you charm it to be a limitless basket?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "No, Granger, I'm just incredibly good at packing things."
Hermione picked up a cucumber sandwich. "And you're apparently really good at making finger food as well."
He scowled. "Mother and I had a lot of picnics growing up, alright? Lucius was never home and we had to do something with our spare time."
In all her eight years of knowing Draco Malfoy, he never voluntarily spoke of him and his mother. Hermione's heart jumped and she decided not to spend too much time on the story that he had just told her. Draco was never comfortable with speaking about his family and she didn't want to badger him for more stories.
"So it wasn't because there was a figurative bridge built between the muggle world and ours?" Hermione was teasing him with the very words he said when they had their first picnic at the Leakey Cauldron. "Well I like it so far." She grinned. Draco rolled his eyes as he finally pulled out two bottles of Butterbeer. Opening the tops (which were un-twistable), Draco passed one to Hermione and they clinked their bottles in midair.
"To another bloody year of school."
Hermione snorted. "To friendship."
"Frenemyship." Draco amended and they drank to it. After taking her first sip, Hermione set her bottle down and picked up a small sandwich.
"So, how long is this frenemy thing going to last?"
Draco shrugged. "Until I decide we're friends?"
Hermione snorted. "Until you decide we're friends? We're picnicking and you're buying me things… I think we've graduated to friendship."
"Not yet."
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and took another swig of her Butterbeer. "Well then, my dear sweet frenemy, what is going to be so different from frenemyship if and when we're friends? Snog?"
Draco had a glint in his eyes. Oh, those beautiful stormy gray eyes…
"Snogging would make us good friends. I don't think we're ready for that yet."
Hermione almost snorted out her Butterbeer, as she was taking a sip when he spoke. "Really? And shagging would make us best friends, I presume?"
"You aren't the smartest witch of our time for nothing." He winked and Hermione groaned.
"So, going with your friendship hierarchy, what would constitute that we're dating?"
Draco chewed on his sandwich slowly, taking his time to come up with an answer. "Well… I would get down on one knee and propose to you to be my girlfriend. What else would I do, Granger?"
Hermione couldn't help but gawk. "And… engagement…?"
"Well if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise." And he surprised her by winking and leaning forward to quickly place a kiss on her cheek. "Now stop overthinking, bookworm, and enjoy the picnic."
And all of a sudden, Hermione was one hundred percent sure that bookworm was his new pet name for her. Great. At least she could call him ferret, but that would be too unoriginal. She'd think of something.
"Did you get far in your research?" He asked and Hermione nodded.
"I did, actually. I'm figuring out a way to password protect the parchment so only we can read what we wrote." Draco studied her and nodded, as if he approved.
"Sort of like that Marauder's thing that Potter has?"
Hermione frowned. "You know about it?"
"Remember Snape confiscated it?" Draco saw Hermione slowly nod. "Well, at a family dinner not too long ago, he was complaining on how the stupid thing was insulting him."
Hermione smiled at the memory. "Good times…"
"Can we have it insult Weasel if he tries to read it?"
Hermione shot him a glare. "No."
"We can have it insult Pansy if she tries to read it, too!"
"Malfoy, you may not be fond of Pansy, but I am very fond of Ron and I will not have a piece of parchment insult my best friend."
Draco scoffed. "Fine. You're no fun anyway."
"What a baby." Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco shot her a playful glare before leaning back on his arms. He stretched his legs out and watched Hermione, who was sitting comfortably beside him.
"This sure beats Hogsmeade," He finally said and Hermione nodded in agreement. "Who wants to run around a pathetic village that we've been to more than a thousand times in the past five years or so."
"Your sarcasm amazes me."
"I'm not being sarcastic, Granger."
"Of course you weren't," she grinned, "Because I was."
Draco couldn't help but smile. Hermione put the empty bottle down and leaned back herself, now looking at the boy sitting beside her. "So," she finally said. Draco saw the Healer Pendant was resting nicely on the bulge of her breasts. Why was it that every damn time he saw the girl she was ten times more beautiful than she was the previous time he saw her.
There had to be some form of magic involve.
There had to be.
"That was a great picnic." Hermione offered. She was acutely aware of how the wind was ruffling Draco's hair, how his blazer fit him perfectly, how his muscular chest was very defined within the shirt he was wearing—in short, she was acutely aware of how attractive the Prince of Slytherin was.
Ironically, Draco was also intensely aware of how attractive the Angel of Gryffindor really was…
"But it's only beginning," Draco smirked. Hermione raised both eyebrows.
"Is it? I am quite sure that once all the food has been consumed it implies that a picnic has come to an end."
"Au contraire, Granger, it implies the picnic has just begun."
Hermione decided to play his game. "Okay," she challenged. "What are we going to do now?"
In a fluid motion, Draco pulled out his wand from his blazer pocket. Hermione watched as he waved their picnic basket and trash away (leaving only the blanket). Then he held the wand in the air and pointed it to the castle. "Accio," he murmured, "Lightyear."
Hermione was beyond amused. Lightyear was the newly designed Quidditch broom that the League of Broomsticks had invented; apparently the new design was one thousand times faster than the Firebolt, with fifty times more accuracy. It responded to will and very minimal controlling was required.
Twenty prototypes were released and quite evidently, the Malfoys had bought one (or maybe even many).
"So you're going to show off your flying skills now?"
Draco chuckled. "Really, Granger?" He said as his broom came to a halt beside him, floating just a few inches off of the ground. "You already know how great my flying skills are."
Hermione gave him a look that clearly said: Cocky, aren't we?
"We're going to see how great your flying skills are."
Hermione blanked. "Wh-what?"
"Scared?"
"Yes!" She said a bit too loudly. Draco laughed once again. If Hermione weren't having a panic attack she would've made a mental comment at how beautiful the sound of his laughter was. Standing up, Draco held a hand out to her and Hermione stared at him as if he were crazy.
"Harry, Ron, the Weasley twins, the Grffindor Quidditch team and Viktor Krum couldn't put me on a broom and you think you can?"
"Yes."
His response was curt and cocky. His eyes were twinkling in delight and Hermione wanted to conk him over the head with an oversized coconut. She held her ground and remained sitting on the picnic blanket. Looking away from Draco, she crossed her arms.
"No."
"Granger, up."
"Do I look like a dog to you?" She whirled on him and was met with a smiling Malfoy. Her anger quadrupled.
"Of course not," his voice was rather soft. "You resemblance is more to that of a bookworm—" he burst into laughter when she glared at him with all the force she had. He was pretty sure if looks could kill, he'd be dancing in hell with Tom Riddle.
Hermione stood up and dusted off her skirt. "If you're going to try to force me to fly, then this picnic is over."
"Are you afraid of heights?"
"Yes!" Hermione was seething in anger. "Now go bug somebody else to fly."
"But everybody else is in Hogsmeade." Draco realized, suddenly, that he loved teasing Hermione Granger. He loved angering her and watching the expressions on her face change so rapidly. The previous night he noticed that he liked pissing her off, but at that moment he realized that he could most definitely get used to ticking off the brains of the Golden Trio.
"Then tough luck." Hermione spun on her heel and was ready to march off but Draco caught her wrist. The sizzle of electricity was undeniable but Draco did not let go—he couldn't. Her skin was soft, like silk, and his fingers felt happy to be in contact with Hermione. It was one third of what he felt when she hugged him and one sixteenth of what he felt when his lips touched her soft and inviting cheek.
"Are you really going to be impossible?" He hummed and she felt like punching him.
Again.
Like from third year.
He so deserved it.
"Are you really looking for another black eye?" She raised her eyebrow at him and he smirked, slowly and dangerously.
"I bet I could get you onto a broom faster than you could throw your fist at me."
"Where was that attitude in third year?"
Draco pulled her closer, his hand still curled around her wrist. "Little-boy Malfoy and grown-man Malfoy are two very different people, bookworm." Yeah, she was right; it was his new pet name for her. "Grown-man Malfoy really believes you'd enjoy flying."
"I don't like flying."
"You flew on the oaf's Griffhippo."
Hermione wanted to laugh. "Hippogriff, Malfoy."
"Same thing," he said absentmindedly. He was dragging her closer to him and she either did not notice or chose not to pull back. In any case, he loved her compliance. "How is that any different from a broom?"
"Hippogriffs are living creatures with a conscience and a fight-or-flight factor. Brooms respond to me and my fear of heights makes me rather irrational." Why was she pouring out her biggest fear to him? Why did she suddenly feel so hot and why was he suddenly so damn close to her.
"But flying with me wouldn't be so bad, now would it?"
Hermione stared at him warily. "Do you really think I'd go thousands of feet into the air with you of all people? I didn't take Harry up on the offer two years ago and I'm most definitely—Malfoy what in bloody damnation do you think you're doing?" Her shriek almost put out Draco's eardrums but he was a man on a mission: get Granger on the damn broom. He picked her up caveman style and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Getting you," he grunted, "on Lightyear." He used his wand to bring Lightyear to him and mounted his broom quickly.
"Like this?!" She was hysterical. Draco snickered.
"Yes. You could choose to cooperate or you could fly thousands of feet in the air like how you are now. The choice is yours and I'm not taking none of the above as an answer."
Draco waited; he could literally hear the gears in her head turning. She was faced with a dilemma and she was going to pick the most rational option of the two. He knew her, he knew how her mind worked, and Draco knew that she would pick the smartest option: flying with him, not on his shoulder.
"Why?" Her voice was so soft it almost tore Malfoy's heart in half. Exhaling loudly, he brought her off his shoulder and slid her down to the ground. His hand, however, rested gently on her waist and her body was pressed comfortably against his.
"Because," his voice matched hers, "you're afraid of heights and I want to help you get over it. Besides," he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "isn't that what friends are for?"
Hermione's heart was pounding against her chest and she didn't know if she could trust her voice. Instead, she nodded. Draco smiled softly. "Will you get on the broom now?"
"Will you let me fall?"
"Never…"
"You'll catch me if I did?"
"Always."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Inhaling deeply, Hermione turned away from him and stared at the broom. "Oh—okay then," she stuttered. She felt his hand come down on her shoulder and she looked over at him.
"Granger, trust me?"
In a heartbeat, she replied. "You know I do."
It was true. She did.
She trusted him with her life… He saved her from an Unforgiveable Curse once and she knew, deep in her heart, that he would again. Why? That she didn't know, but she was positive that he would put his life on the line for her.
Draco had Lightyear floating in front of them and hesitantly Hermione mounted it. Fluidly, Draco got onto the broom behind her and immediately wrapped his arm around her waist. "Ready?" his voice was warm against her ear and the butterflies in her stomach were going crazy. Not trusting her voice (once again), she dumbly nodded and Draco kicked off into the air. Hermione's eyes were closed but she felt the rush of wind go past her and could feel the earth moving farther and farther away.
And then nothing.
No movement, no wind except a light breeze, nothing.
"Open your eyes, Granger," Draco's voice hummed against her and Hermione did as she was told. They were going in slow circles over the Quidditch pitch, parallel to the highest Keeper's hoop. Hermione, whose left hand was gripped onto the broom handle and right hand on Draco's arm, tightened her hold on both things. Her heart was pounding and her fear was escalating.
Heights.
Falling…
Death.
"Relax," her mind snapped back to reality when she heard Draco purr into her ear. "I'm here." He murmured as he tightened his hold on her, as if to indicate that he had no intention of letting her fall.
Of letting her go.
"I'll always be here."
Again, Hermione nodded. Draco willed his broom to move away from the vicinity of the Quidditch pitch and go towards the Forbidden Forest. Hermione was in awe of how beautiful the castle scenery looked atop a broom. She vaguely remembered her ride on Buckbeak with Harry in their third year; they had almost fallen off and died back then. Her selective memory blocked that part of her life away in a dark corner of her mind.
It probably fuelled her fear of heights. She was rather sure about it.
"Isn't it beautiful?" She breathed.
"Yes, it is." If she could see Draco, she'd notice that his eyes never left her as he responded. She looked down at the forest and realized that it didn't look too forbidden fifty feet in the air. She and Draco, though, were all too familiar with the dangers that lurked within the tall trees of the forest.
"So, is it as bad as you thought it was?"
"No," she mumbled. "Thank you." She turned her head so that she could look at him and he took the opportunity to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Blushing, Hermione turned away from him. "Why do you keep doing that?"
His chest rumbled in laughter. "Doing what?"
"That."
"Please explain, Granger."
Sighing in exasperation, she used the hand that was holding onto his arm to wave around. "You know!"
"This?" Sneakily, he kissed the area just behind her ear and shivers immediately shot down her spine. Apparently that was one of her more sensitive spots. Trying hard to control the shaking of her voice, Hermione affirmed that that was what she was referring to.
"Because I want to."
Hermione felt as if her lungs were constricting. It was getting really hot really fast and she knew she needed to get really far from Draco.
Now.
"Alright… enough flying for today." She strangled out. Draco laughed, aloud, but did nothing to heed her comment. Hermione frowned.
"Malfoy, can we please go back to the field?"
"But we're having so much fun." He brought his right hand up (as his left hand was around her waist), and caught the pendant between his two fingers. Hermione screamed and he jumped, letting go of her pendant and grabbing the broom immediately. Her shriek threw him off balance and he was afraid they both might fall.
"What?"
"Don't let go of the broom!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Really, Granger? You have a hernia over that?"
"I was not having a hernia."
"Right and my cousin is a giant shaggy dog."
Hermione snuffed and pinched his arm. "Sirius Black is your cousin."
"Can I not be sarcastic without you correcting me?"
Hermione giggled. "No. Now can we please get down? I think I'm going to have an anxiety attack up here."
Rolling his eyes, Draco began to guide his broom closer to the ground. Hermione was still watching their surroundings and was most definitely glad that Draco dragged her ass up into the sky. She wasn't sure if she would do it again, but she was glad for that day.
"We are going to have another flying lesson tomorrow." His voice tore into her mind, breaking her train of thoughts.
"What?"
His smirk was incredible. "You can't get over a fear if you only face it once."
"That's like stuffing a claustrophobic person into a broom cupboard for hours on end!"
Draco snickered. "True, but that claustrophobic person isn't with me, now is she?"
"I'm sure you have a lot of experiences in tiny broom cupboards with another female," Hermione snorted and Draco burst into laughter, throwing his head back and revelling in what she had just said. Hermione couldn't help but giggle as well; his laugh was contagious.
"Your sense of humour never ceases to amaze me."
"I wasn't trying to humour you."
Draco guided them to the Gryffindor Tower, right to the window that would lead Hermione back to her dormitory. Bringing the broom very close, he shoved the window open and helped Hermione climb in. She was safely in her dormitory but Draco did not release his hold on her hand.
"Had fun?" He asked, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her palm. Hermione gulped.
"I did… did you?"
"Yep," he leaned forward and Hermione knew what was coming. She turned her cheek and reached up on her tip-toes so that Draco could plant a soft and endearing kiss on her cheek. "Tomorrow, after lights out?"
Hermione studied his eyes for a long moment, trying to figure him out. When she realized she couldn't, she simply nodded. "Yes. Where will you meet me?"
"Library, restricted section, the eastern window. I'll be outside with Lightyear and you'll climb out. Okay?"
Hermione nodded. "Alright." Holding onto her hand for a moment longer, he finally let go and sped off. Hermione watched his figure leave before slamming the window shut.
Holy Merlin.
.xx.
Hermione decided to drown herself into research after her 'date' with Draco ended. She learned the secrets behind the Marauder's Map and even tried to experiment herself in creating a sealed parchment. With her experimenting, she figured out little tricks that would help enhance the security of whatever it was that she was attempting to seal.
Hermione decided to combine the methods of: Tom Riddle's diary (a blank diary), and the Marauder's Map (a special phrase required to activate the map) to create two complementary notebooks. Any and all notes written in the books would be recorded and archived for future references, but only she and Draco could see what was written in the notebooks.
Well, anybody could see it if they had the password. But nobody would; only she would.
And Draco would.
Her book was a dark maroon with a gold spine and golden edged pages. Across the front was her name engraved in gold. She managed to combine both magic and certain potions (which were stacked in the Gryffindor general-use potions cupboard) to create the books herself. According to Moony, the creation of the object you wish to enchant would be a lot safer than purchasing something and enchanting it.
Moony, aka Remus Lupin, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in third year, probably knew a thing or two about enchanting the enchantable.
Draco's book was a deep green, almost black, with a silver spine. The pages of his book were silver edged (his book representing Slytherin and hers, Gryffindor). She didn't put any name or title on his book, knowing that he would want as much secrecy as possible.
Finally, she set the enchantment that sealed off the words from any nosey person. "Incantabit librum istum, e vagantibus oculos. Ostende te loquentem: vetitum amicitia est nomen mittentis et evanescat."
Both books glowed a magnificent purple before absorbing the aura of the magic. Hermione stared at the books lying on her lap and wondered if it worked—there was only way to find out. Grabbing one of her quills, she wrote in her book: testing. She felt Draco's book begin to heat up on her lap and was practically giddy with delight. Her plan worked! Their books would heat up slightly so that the other was aware they had received a message.
Hermione, then, picked up Draco's book, opened it and murmured the words that she made to be the password: "Vetitum amicitia."
Without a moment of pause, the word test bled onto Draco's book. Heart racing, Hermione quickly murmured her name, as she was the sender of the message: "Granger…"
And the word disappeared.
It worked…
"It worked!"
"What worked?"
Hermione shoved Draco's book under her pillow and whirled around to see Fay, Kellah, Parvati and Lavender walk into the dormitory. "McGonagall's method of transfiguring inanimate objects without a wand." Hermione spewed out the first thing that came to her head. Parvati gave Hermione an incredulous look and the young witch could only shrug.
"What? It worked!"
"Right." Parvati rolled her eyes. "On a more interesting note, Hogsmeade was so much fun and Rick Cornwall, the shy guy of Hufflepuff, bought me Butterbeer!"
"He looks like a toad," Kellah snorted.
"He's probably Neville's toad. I mean, Ron's rat turned out to be an animagus… maybe that could explain why Trevor disappears every school year." Fay tapped her chin and Hermione laughed.
"Please! No more crazy pet animagus. I'd rather have a relaxing year this year…"
"I concur." Lavender sank into her bed. "Just study, pass, get a great job, and move away from this 'save the world from a psycho half-blooded wizard who wants blood supremacy' bullshit. Voldemort was the biggest hypocrite of life."
Kellah nodded in agreement. "I wish Harry said that to him before he disarmed him to death."
Hermione and Parvati snickered. After exchanging a few more words, Kellah, Parvati, and Fay went to grab some food from the Great Hall and Lavender went to take a shower. Hermione used the opportunity to head to the Owlery to find a large enough bird to deliver Draco's book to him. Slipping a note inside the front cover, Hermione instructed the owl on where to go and how to reach Draco Malfoy
"Hoot and peck at the stone wall," she whispered, "there're no other ways in."
The owl nodded and flew off, quickly disappearing as it soared through the castle to get to the dungeons. Hermione stood in the Owlery for a moment longer before making her way back to her dormitory.
.xx.
Draco and Blaise were lounging in the Slytherin common room, discussing trivial matters that they generally discussed. "Italy is going to beat England in the World Tournament this year."
Draco shook his head. "France is."
"Just because you're one sixty-forth French doesn't make you a French national."
Glowering at his best friend, Draco did his best to not through the silver candle that sat on the end table beside him. "I'm still French."
"You're more English."
"Whatever I may be, I just hope that chump Krum doesn't win."
Blaise agreed whole heartedly. "I hope the snitch burrows into his fat arse."
"I'll burrow a bludger into his fat arse." Draco scoffed and Blaise cackled loudly. After a few more words exchanged, Blaise decided to take a bathroom break and Draco basked in his memory of what happened throughout the day.
It was a good day…
His train of thought, however, was broken when a tapping and hooting came from outside the stone wall. Knowing in his gut that it was an owl, Draco jumped out of his seat and quickly opened the doorway, revealing a giant barn owl and a package. Immediately taking his parcel, he sent the owl away and returned to his seat.
He tore the wrapping off and saw that a green and silver book was what he received. Knowing it was from Hermione; he opened the front cover and saw a small note:
Enchanted journal. You write a message and it'll send right away, the book heats up when you receive a message… words become invisible as soon as you send the message.
Password to view the message: vetitum amicitia
Password to hide the message: my name.
Hopefully this puts Bubo Bubo to rest and ease.
Draco wanted to try before Blaise returned. Quickly picking up one of the quills on the coffee table, he wrote a short message:
Does this thing really work?
Within moments, he felt his book heat up. He uttered the spell that made Hermione's note visible: "Vetitum amicitia."
Without missing a beat, letters bled onto the page.
Do you doubt me?
Laughter bubbled up to Malfoy's throat. He wrote his response:
Sometimes. But you never fail to prove me wrong.
She was a quick writer because as soon as he sent his message, she replied.
I hope that's a good thing.
Draco scribbled down: It is. Hope you had fun today… Blaise is returning, I shall message you before lights out.
She replied: Alright. I had fun… thank you, for what you did.
Draco wanted to reply but Blaise had returned. He quickly murmured 'Granger', saw the words disappear, and shoved the book underneath a sofa cushion. "So where were we?" Blaise asked as he sat down on an armchair.
Blaise and Draco resumed talking about Quidditch but the only thing on his mind was when he could message Granger once again.
.xx.
Edited: August 6, 2016
Bubo Bubo is the name of the Malfoy family owl (as per Harry Potter wiki).
Hermione's spell, rough translation (English to Latin translator courtesy of Google Translate, probably isn't all that accurate, but I was hoping for the feel more than I was aiming for accuracy of words):
Enchant this book, from wandering eyes. Reveal yourself when spoken: a forbidden friendship, and disappear when spoken the name of the sender.
MARAUDER-STYLE PARCHMENT IDEA: KodeV
BUNCH OF IDEAS I SHALL INCORPORATE THROUGHOUT THE STORY: Goldenbutterfly
Special thank you for the awesome idea!
KEEP 'EM COMING!
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In the Arms of her Dragon