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Covered in Crimson	By : ckllsdam Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13991 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Harry Potter Universe and I make no money from this work of fanfiction. The plot, however, is mine.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The fallout from Draco�s Halloween stunt had been significant. New restrictions had been placed on both individual transit through the castle and on group gatherings to minimize the likelihood of repeat performances or unwanted incitement. Worried parents had insisted on cancelling all off-site activities including the three planned Hogsmeade weekends, and Ministry Aurors had been called in to inspect every inch of the castle for security breaches and vulnerabilities. A handful of students, notably all of Muggle-born descent, had withdrawn from Hogwarts in the face of such a blatant threat.

Professor Dumbledore had been unable to secure concrete, absolute evidence of Draco�s responsibility, but that had also not absolved the young wizard of suspicion. The quintessential Slytherin had been thorough in ensuring that no tangible proof could link him to the event. No Magical signature, no traceable scrap, no eyewitness account could place him at the scene. The only evidence was purely circumstantial. It seemed that Draco�s bravado had its limits, and he�d gone to extreme measures to hide his involvement. Under intense questioning from his Head of House and his headmaster, the surly teenager had remained uncharacteristically silent. Even under the skilled Legilimency of Severus Snape, he had not given any clues to what he�d done, what influences he might have been under, or whether he�d been the victim of the Imperius curse. The boy�s mind was like a brick encampment.

When Draco�s parents had been contacted about his suspected role in the terror attack on Hogwarts, his mother had been adamant and steely in her resolve that her boy could not, would not have done such a thing. She wove stories of the sweet, loving child he�d always been and the warm and sensitive heart that he displayed to her. She relented slightly as she admitted that he�d been experiencing the normal growing pains that a teenage boy endured as he found his way to manhood, but she�d gone no further in expressing concern for his character or his behavior. His father was sadly, she�d said, away on an extended business trip throughout Europe and Asia and could not be easily reached until his expected return just before Yule.

The result of this lack of proof was that Draco was allowed to remain at Hogwarts, but his daily actions and contacts remained under strict scrutiny. His owl post and packages were randomly inspected, and he was subjected to periodic �interviews� with either Snape or Dumbledore. It was a testament to the dark skill and devious diligence of his determined aunt and uncle that no incriminating or suspicious materials were found in any of the packages that Draco received seven times during this period of inquiry.

All of this attention meant that Draco�s penchant to act out was dramatically curtailed. His misdeeds were limited to sneering, snarling, sniping, and intense staring at those he deemed beneath him, which meant just about everyone in the entire castle.

Nearly seven weeks had passed, and Draco�s anger and frustration were mounting. He felt as though he�d been bound by Petrificus Totalus and Silencio � at the same time � for half his life. This had been the longest two-month hell he�d ever had to endure, and his boiling point had been reached more than once. On this particularly infuriating day, the only thing that had kept him from using the Killing curse on everything living thing around him was the knowledge that he�d be going home in just two more days, and he was eagerly anticipating a conversation with his father about his future.

This ordinary Wednesday had dawned especially bright and crisp, and that was not in keeping with young Mr. Malfoy�s mood, which was unambiguously dour and dark. A double Potions lab was to follow breakfast, and while the subject was normally among Draco�s favorites, he�d developed some animosity toward his Potions professor for the constant questioning and meddling since his Astronomy Tower adventure. He�d thought that Snape was an ally in the Dark Lord�s cause; was the Potions master now being forced to do Dumbledore�s bidding, or had his allegiances shifted? Draco didn�t know if he could trust the man, so he erred on the side of caution and self-preservation, and treated him as an enemy. An added irritation was the unavoidable presence of the gaggle of Gryffindors who would make his misery complete. If he had to listen to that swot, Granger spout her two knuts� worth one more time� Well, he didn�t know if he could control his murderous impulses today.

The potion they�d been assigned to brew today was one that would determine a full quarter of their grade for the term. It was complex and notoriously unstable, and had to be brewed quickly � in just the two hours allotted during their lab session � to be both effective and to limit the likelihood of creating an environmental disaster. Ironically, when brewed correctly, the potion was a simple topical application for eliminating unwanted hair - the girls used it regularly on their legs with no ill effects. Draco didn�t particularly care; his assigned lab partner for the day, however, was positively manic about delivering perfection. He�d barely been able to control his urge to vomit when Snape had designated the bane of his existence to take the place beside him at the lab bench. Hermione Granger wasn�t any happier about it.

Powdered Peruvian Vipertooth dragon scales � exactly 4.29 milligrams, one sliced Screechsnap � precisely cut with a solid silver knife into quarters at a twenty-eight degree angle, two minced Erumpent eyes, seven hairs from a full-blood Kneazle (absolutely no cat genes present, please), and thirty eight milliliters of purified water were required to brew this concoction. It would take exactly seventy nine minutes to simmer and twelve minutes to cool before it could be stored in a vial for Professor Snape�s evaluation. That left twenty nine minutes to gather, prepare and add the ingredients in the proper order and procedure � barely enough to get everything done considering the level of precision that was required - and Malfoy hadn�t moved a single muscle except the one that twitched rapidly in his jaw. He was studiously ignoring his lab partner, refusing to make eye contact or to acknowledge her questions and requests for him to get his arse in gear.

�Malfoy!� he heard her sotto voce shriek. �This is not funny. One of us needs to gather the ingredients and the other needs to prepare the cauldron and the rest of the cutting and crushing equipment. If you won�t cooperate, we�re both going to fail!� she spat through clenched teeth, hysteria barely restrained from Hermione�s plea.

�Fucking Mudblood,� he mumbled back, still not moving, not responding to her entreaties for assistance in any way.

�You loathsome rat!� she retorted. Unfortunately for her, and much to Draco�s amusement, Hermione�s outburst was significantly more audible than his expletive directed at her. This brought Professor Snape to their table, cloak billowing behind him as he moved swiftly to diffuse a potentially explosive altercation.

�Miss Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for raising your voice in class. Now, what seems to be the problem here?� Snape drawled.

�Sir, I hate to be a tattler, but Malfoy won�t cooperate in getting this potion brewed, and there simply isn�t enough time to do it all myself,� Hermione whined, an edge of desperation evident in her voice.

The Potions master glanced briefly at his Slytherin charge and raised an eyebrow in question. �Mister Malfoy, what do you have to say to that?�

Draco refused to meet his professor�s eyes, and stared at a point on the wall. �Filthy fucking Mudblood. I won�t work with her. I�d rather take the failing grade,� he seethed in barely restrained fury.

�You will work with her, Mister Malfoy, or the failing grade will not be your only problem. That is the assignment I�ve chosen to give you. Are you questioning my authority in my own classroom?�

�I won�t work with a fucking Mudblood.� Draco punctuated each word with a pointed finger seemingly drilling into the top of the lab bench, meeting Snape�s eyes with his own narrowed gaze.

�Then I�m afraid that you leave me no choice. Fifty points from Slytherin for refusing a teacher�s assignment and for using profanity in class, a failing grade on this potion, and I�ll see you for detention for the next two nights, Malfoy. Do I make myself clear?� Snape glared angrily at the blond for defying him so openly.

�Fine. As long as I don�t have to work with the fucking Mudblood.� Draco almost seemed relieved at the punishment Snape had levied.

�Miss Granger, you will be allowed an additional fifteen minutes beyond the end of class to complete your assignment. Don�t waste time; get to work.�

�Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,� Hermione breathed in relief. She left the bench to gather the required ingredients from the storeroom and returned to her place with her supplies a few moments later to find that Draco hadn�t moved from his spot. His focus remained on an unseen spot fifteen feet away, and he did not acknowledge her presence or speak for the remainder of the two hours that his classmates filled with chopping, grinding, stirring and waiting. As the bulk of the group was finally dismissed once their completed potions were turned in, he rose to gather his things, still refusing to acknowledge the girl�s presence in any way.

The departing students began to murmur over the blatant disrespect that Malfoy had shown, and even a handful of Slytherin housemates were unhappy about the substantial quantity of points he�d lost so close to the end of the term. There�d likely not be a way to recoup those before they left for the Christmas holidays. Malfoy didn�t care what they thought and let his disregard be known as he rudely pushed his way through the meandering group, rigid elbows and shoulders moving them out of his path.

Back in the classroom, Hermione remained behind to allow the final stage of cooling to be complete so that she could turn in her final project to her waiting teacher. As she lingered, she noted that Snape looked terribly tired and especially grim. She couldn�t help but wonder if Malfoy had tried his patience as much as he�d done to nearly everyone else in the castle recently. It had become a school-wide sport to avoid Malfoy�s morose moods and vitriolic outbursts; the prefects had a running tally of a new kind of point score, awarded on the basis of incurring Draco�s wrath. So far Hermione was losing, by virtue of being far ahead the next highest tally as, much to her chagrin, she seemed to be his favorite target. As the minutes ticked by, she debated the merits of asking her teacher if he knew why Malfoy had been so increasingly defiant. Her better sense won out over her curiosity when she concluded that the Slytherin House head was more likely to dance a jig in the Great Hall than to share a confidence or insight with her. She wisely kept her mouth shut and simply handed over her completed potion with a nod and a �Thank you, Professor� before leaving to catch up with her friends.

The Potions teacher sat quietly at his desk for several moments after Miss Granger left his domain. He had abhorred having to take House points away after Draco�s outburst, but he had really had no choice. The boy�s behavior was beyond the pale. He couldn�t allow any student to so openly defy an assignment, and it had not been a reasonable objection regardless of the situation. Draco was becoming increasingly irrational and rebellious, with no obvious cause and no moderation in sight. He�d begun to consider the possibility that a true psychosis had developed, and wondered if a Mind Healer should be consulted, but he�d need permission from one of the young man�s parents to do that. With Lucius Malfoy out of touch and Narcissa in denial about the depth of her son�s behavior issues, that seemed an unlikely solution.

Sighing deeply, he examined the vial that had been handed to him a few moments earlier � absolutely perfect lilac in color and the exact consistency of beaten raw eggs. Miss Granger would earn full marks for this one, a small consolation for what he�d witnessed her endure over the last several weeks of verbal abuse directed at her by young Malfoy. She was insufferable, but she didn�t deserve that constant haranguing � no one did. He had to admire her fortitude in dealing with the steady barrage of wrath. He supposed that fours and a half years of friendship with Potter and Weasley had allowed her to develop an epic supply of patience. If Draco continued along the same path, she�d need every ounce of it.

This line of thought brought him back to the problem at hand � what to do about Draco�s miniature insurrection. He supposed it was time for another conference with the Headmaster to discuss the latest development in the on-going saga of Draco Malfoy.
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With a free period before lunch, Draco didn�t need to be anywhere specific for nearly two hours, and he debated how to pass the time. He�d left the Potions lab in a right snit and had no desire to wile away the time with any of his obtuse classmates. He had no homework that demanded his immediate attention, and as a matter of habit, avoided the library at all costs, lest he be subjected to the stench of Mudbloods befouling the place. He decided that his best option would be to retreat to the relative peace and privacy of his room; if any of his roommates were there, he�d just kick them out. They rarely defied his orders to vacate the space, especially when he was in one of his blacker moods.

For once, he thought, his luck held out and the room was not occupied when he arrived. He�d ensure it would stay that way by placing a locking spell on the door, one of the truly impenetrable ones that he used when he wanted some uninterrupted personal time, or was �entertaining� a witch. A young man had needs, after all, and sometimes a few minutes alone in the shower stall just didn�t cut it.

Draco was looking forward to the coming holidays for two reasons. He�d not had any substantial contact with his father in nearly three months and had a strong desire to discuss several issues and plans with him, and the sooner the better. His other motivation was to escape the smothering scrutiny and obnoxious morons that had marked his existence at Hogwarts since the beginning of the term. He�d had enough. He thought this might be a good opportunity to organize his thoughts for the meeting he�d requested with his father. Lucius was not a man who�d tolerate a chit-chat; he�d need to have all his arguments and requests clearly expressed and presented. Draco sat at the desk, selected a crisp sheet of pure-white parchment from the drawer � none of that cheap yellowed junk for him � and removing his favorite diamond-tipped quill from his satchel, he took one deep breath and began to write.
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Nine stories above and three hundred forty meters east of the dungeon where Draco was mapping out his future, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape sat facing each other over the Headmaster�s massive desk. Neither man looked happy as the Potions professor finished relating the tale of Draco�s latest misdeed during the term�s final practical exercise.

When Snape�s account was complete, Dumbledore remained silent for a few moments, drumming his fingers on the oak surface, eyes unfocused and brow furrowed. �It�s only getting worse, isn�t it, Severus?�

�I�m afraid so, sir,� he concurred. �And what�s most troubling is that none of us have been able to find any specific reason for such a dramatic shift of behavior and attitudes in such a short time. I know we�ve been down this road before, but I�m still flabbergasted that we�ve not been able to uncover some organic or influential cause. It�s almost as if he came back from summer break as a different person, and as we all know, that literal scenario has been categorically ruled out. The school�s wards would have never admitted him, and no one can take Polyjuice for that long without severe repercussions. So it�s definitely something else. He�s been influenced by his family�s prejudices for years; maybe his father�s pressure to embrace the dark has finally outweighed his mother�s marginally more tolerant nature.�

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. �I�m still not convinced that that�s all there is to it, but in the absence of other evidence, there�s little else that we can do to change anything. Draco�s frustration is apparent � anyone would chafe under as much examination as we�ve subjected him to � and because of that his acting out has been primarily limited to the verbal assault. He�s never so directly refused a teacher�s orders before now, and that�s worrisome. Add to that the result that he deliberately chose to fail an assignment rather than work with another student, simply because of her blood status, and I just don�t know whether we can justify allowing him to return after the holidays.� The Headmaster leaned back in his chair with a deep, frustrated sigh.

Snape peered at his supervisor, weighing whether he should agree or challenge the elder man�s conclusions. Crossing his right leg over his left knee and assuming a casual pose, Severus decided to fight for the Draco he�d known before this term introduced a new persona. �You may be right, Albus, but I�m concerned that if we leave him to Lucius, there will be no possibility of redeeming the young man. He�ll be utterly immersed in the dark should we turn him away. If we keep him here, we have at least a small chance of influencing him to more positive pursuits, or at the very minimum, keeping a tighter rein on him. Think about what would happen if his only source of persuasion came from inside Malfoy Manor.�

With a grunt, Dumbledore rose from his seat and began to pace. �You make a very good point, Severus. I wonder, though, about the impact of his mother. Would that make a positive difference? She seems so resolute that this behavior is uncharacteristic of her son.�

�Possibly. But I�m fairly certain she won�t openly defy Lucius either. At best, her influence would be subtle,� Snape asserted. He hesitated a moment before speaking again. �When I last talked with her, she was obviously worried about the boy, but as you noted earlier, she�s either in denial or she�s hiding something about what�s happening to him. I�m convinced that on some level, she knows more than she�s shared with us. The bottom line is that I�m skeptical that she�d be equipped to do much to change the situation for the better.�

�Well, regardless of what happens with either or both of his parents, we have two weeks and two days to decide whether Draco will be welcomed back to Hogwarts in January.�
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Bellatrix had made the unusual request to meet her sister for tea. While the two had been comparatively close as children despite their age difference, their relationship had been strained when the elder sister had been incarcerated in Azkaban as a convicted Death Eater after the first war. Her escape had reunited them, but Narcissa was very wary of the extreme fanaticism and zeal that her sister displayed in her support of the Dark Lord. She loved her sister, and they�d both been raised to believe in pureblood supremacy and the principle that Muggle-borns didn�t deserve their magic, but times had changed and Narcissa�s views had softened marginally. She�d seen too much senseless violence and too many lives destroyed. Most of all she recognized the irony of the pureblood cause being championed by an undoubtedly psychotic and power-mad half-blood. Narcissa was a lot more observant and intelligent than most expected of the dutiful Malfoy wife. Her husband�s and brother-in-law�s keenness to involve her son in the fight was another factor in cooling her enthusiasm for a movement that, if sheer numbers were any indicator, had no real future.

Thus, her sister�s invitation filled Narcissa with trepidation. What did Bella want, and how did she see Cissy aiding her agenda? While technically still wanted by the Ministry for her Azkaban escape, Bellatrix had not been terribly cautious about travelling in public. For this get-together, however, she�d requested that they meet at Malfoy Manor. Narcissa agreed readily, feeling more comfortable and in control in her own home. When Bella arrived via the Floo network, thankfully without her obnoxious husband, Narcissa greeted her warmly, but with guard raised. They made their way to the drawing room where tea service, sandwiches, and pastries had been laid out for them.

�It�s so lovely to see you, sister. It has been far too long since we�ve just had the occasion to sit and chat together,� Bella cooed as she sat in one of the matching wing chairs on either side of the round mahogany occasional table.

This immediately put Narcissa on alert. Bella never cooed. Bella never sat with anyone to chat. Bella was not a social person by any definition of the word. She was up to something, her younger sibling felt certain. Bella�s uncharacteristic behavior was merely a caricature of how she thought people in this kind of situation would behave, and Narcissa was not fooled. She was sure that it wouldn�t take a terribly long time for Bella�s ulterior motives to emerge; Bella was clearly not skilled in subtlety. In the meantime, she�d play along and allow things to develop as they would.

�Yes, dear. It has been a very long time.�

�Our family spends far too little time gathered together, don�t you think? Especially with the Yule holidays upon us, we should make a point to celebrate together. That would be lovely, wouldn�t it? I don�t think we�ve done that since we were children.�

Internal alarm bells started ringing. �That�s true, Bella. I can�t recall the last time we all celebrated a holiday together,� came Narcissa�s noncommittal reply.

�We should do that this year,� Bella pressed.

�What did you have in mind, dear?� Narcissa offered some leeway to allow her sister to reveal her intentions.

�Well, I thought we might gather for dinner, or possibly an evening of music. Whatever you like. Of course, we may want to wait until Draco returns home from school. When will that be, dear?�

Hippogriffs began to stomp in Narcissa�s stomach. �There it is. She wants Draco,� Narcissa concluded. �This can�t be good, but there�s little I can do to stop her from visiting, and she�ll go around me to Lucius if I refuse her. My husband won�t think twice about allowing her access to our son. I need to maintain as much control of the situation as possible.�

�I�m not sure yet. He�s not owled us with the release schedule yet,� Narcissa sought to buy a little time.

�Well as soon as you know, we can finalize plans. It will be lovely to see my nephew again,� Bella�s teeth showed in something that resembled a smile.

�Of course, Bella. I will need to check with Lucius as well, when he returns from his business trip tomorrow, but I�m sure we�ll be able to arrange something.�

�Delightful, Cissy! Just wonderful!� Bella enthused, her eyes wide and bright.

Most telling to Narcissa was the fact that they exchanged barely ten more words while sipping tea and nibbling cucumber sandwiches before Bella announced, �Well, this has been just charming. We should do this much more often. I must be on my way, though. Yule preparations to be made, you know!� Throughout her goodbyes, Bella moved rather swiftly toward the Floo and barely paused to kiss the air near Narcissa�s cheek before making her escape, leaving the younger Black sister standing agape in her wake.

It was clear, she thought, that she�d have to find a way to shield Draco from his aunt�s influence, hoping against hope that it wasn�t already too late.

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Draco read over the two feet of parchment that he�d filled, feeling both satisfied and settled. He�d captured the most critical elements of his plan and outlined exactly how he wanted to achieve each piece. He hoped his father would be pleased. Convincing his mother not to object to his desired path would be more of a challenge, but he felt that with his father�s support, she�d not risk interfering. His mother was always coddling him, treating him like a child. He bristled at the thought. At fifteen and a half, he was nearly a man, and she should treat him as such. It wasn�t that he didn�t appreciate the sweets and treats that she sent, but he�d often wished that she�d give him some space to grow into the man he needed to be. His father�s influence and guidance would be required to nudge things along just a bit more rapidly. In two days he�d be returning home and it was time to tell his father that he was ready to take his rightful place in the Dark Lord�s cause.
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