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Finding True Happiness	By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 19445 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 8
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“Lighter Days”

Hermione awoke to a long warmth beside her, and – for a brief moment – she hoped that it was her secret admirer. But when she turned her head she saw Ginny. Disorientation set in for half a minute, until she recalled why her friend was there.

“Wake up, Gin,” she said, nudging her. The younger girl slowly came to.

“Her… Her… um, `Mione. Morning.”

“Good morning.” Hermione studied her intently. She knew the moment that Ginny remembered: her eyes widened, they got teary, and her cheeks turned redder than her hair.

“Oh gods,” she whispered, immediately burying herself in Hermione’s arms.

Finally detangling herself, Hermione turned away and saw something which made her smile. Her blood ran cold for a moment, until she realised that it was still virtually the middle of the night. There was still time.

“Here you are,” she said, picking up the small vial of potion. She handed it to Ginny.

“You did it! Thank you,” she said. Uncapping the bottle, she had soon tipped the whole lot down her throat, swallowing eagerly. Hermione turned her attention to the note which had been hidden behind the bottle, lighting her wand so that she could read it.

My Hermione,

Please do not tell your friend who really procured this. The fewer people who know, the better. I watched you brewing the Pain Relief Potion for Miss Weasley last night, so I returned the phial that I had brought as well. Yours meant more.

He left it unsigned, but she knew who had written it. How could she not?

“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling at the note.

“What was that?” Ginny asked, yawning the words as she stretched. She grimaced. “Do you have any more of that potion? I’m still… sore.”

“Of course,” Hermione said. She’d put aside plenty of the Pain Relief Potion, partly because she worried that Ginny would still ache the next day, and also for that day in the future when she would…

She wouldn’t think about that now. Her friend needed her.

“How did you get it? And when?” Ginny asked. She held up the vial. “This isn’t from the hospital wing. It hasn’t got the label on it.”

Hermione’s eyes widened briefly. Her secret love must have brewed it himself.

Love? Oh, stop thinking about that, she thought.

“I… don’t think I should tell you that,” she said.

“But you must have brewed it…”

“Ginny!” She held up her hands. “Just… please. Stop. Go back to Gryffindor Tower and get some more sleep, okay? Hogsmeade weekend starts in only a few hours,” she added.

“Sorry. I’m going. And… thank you, Hermione.” She smiled as she stood. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister.”

“So are you,” she said. Ginny nodded and left. Hermione’s hands shook as she gathered together clothes to wear to the wizarding village, unable to sleep now. She wanted to stay behind, but knew that it would be suspicious. Besides, someone needed to be there in case Ginny broke down while they were out.

Peeves was avoiding the other ghosts. He had heard that Dumbledore was even researching poltergeists. He needed to work quickly if he was to become human before Hermione worked out who he really was. If she knew… she would hate him.

He didn’t want her to hate him.

“Hermione,” he whispered. After he had left the scene of his Malfoy-Destruction, he had beaten his head against a wall in the dungeons. At least, as much as he could actually beat his head. He had taken a big risk in speaking to Hermione, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so delightfully irresistible.

Snape had upped the security over his ingredients after some went missing during Hermione’s second year, and even more so two years later. Peeves had had no idea that his girl had been the thief the first time around. Cheeky little thing…

He chuckled, crossing his arms. The wards had presented no problem for him. But then his thoughts turned to the reason he had been working last night. Miss Weasley.

Had he known what was going on he would have put a stop to it. Centuries of young women had gone through Hogwarts, and many had lost their virginity for the wrong reason. He knew that no girl should let herself be taken advantage of when it came to losing their innocence.

Sudden horror shocked the hell out of him.

“What have I been doing?” he said, louder than he intended. “Merlin, how low can I sink?”

He had to put a stop to this. He refused to be another Draco Malfoy.

It was a big risk, but it was for a good cause. After his despicable behaviour so far, Peeves was determined to make it up to Hermione before leaving her alone for good. It was all for the best.

He sighed, actually feeling pain at the thought of never touching her properly.

So, as Hermione’s secret admirer, he exacted revenge for Miss Weasley, knowing that it would make Hermione happy, and thus make their separation easier for both of them.

Yes. Because that was how it was meant to be.

…Wasn’t it?

“Look out, young Mr. Malfoy,” he sang softly, following Malfoy. The prank from a few days ago was still in place, though various bits of garbage were gradually disappearing. But nothing could be too great a punishment for the boy who had caused such heartbreak.

He had used a spell that Alastor Moody had invented – before dismissing it as dark magic – during his fourth year. It was similar to using Legillimancy, only this could be performed from behind, not to mention wandlessly and non-verbally. That boy had been damn powerful; it was a pity that he had become so upstanding and focussed on his career, successful though he had been.

As it turned out, Miss Weasley wasn’t the first victim of Draco Malfoy. Other girls had fallen prey to him, though it was usually due to his charms. The main charm was, of course, money. Worse than that, his fellow Slytherins all knew about his trysts. The way he boasted about them made him feel sick; it was something he hoped would never happen to his Hermione.

Unfortunately, while the boy should really have gone straight to Azkaban for having sex with minors, this would involve revealing their identities. After much thought, and some avoidance of Hermione, he came up with the most appropriate plan.

He would scare Malfoy into celibacy.

The blonde turned around, scowling when he heard a voice again. He’d never heard it before (as far as he could tell), and hoped that it wasn’t another student coming to hex him. The old fool of a headmaster hadn’t been able to do anything to reverse the curses.

Naturally, the whole thing had prompted a letter to his father, who was now busy discussing the matter with the board of governors. Until then, he had to put up with… ugh! All of…

When he came to, Malfoy was aware of some kind of tingling around his lower regions. It faded a little, but not completely. Seeing that he was alone, he checked inside his underpants as surreptitiously as he could, fully prepared to hide himself if any came along.

Nope. Everything was in place. He thought he had seen a glow, but it had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Must have imagined it,” he muttered, standing up. As soon as he was vertical once again, the strange sensation left. He was so relieved that he missed the low cackle.

By dinnertime, after a day of classes with a few breaks, Malfoy was pale, and occasionally wincing or twitching. Most of the Slytherins were aware of his usual in-between class trysts with one of his regulars, such as Pansy Parkinson. However, his face had been all screwed up as he approached her after Potions; and when he touched her breasts with no preliminaries he yelped. Pansy had told their housemates that her ‘poor Drakey-Poo’ had clutched his…

And there she had stopped, seeing his fierce glare from the other side of the common room.

But everyone knew what she had been about to say.

Blaming her, he had sought out Millicent Bulstrode, and then someone from another house. It was all the same. Every time he had a sexual thought, or tried to touch a girl – hell, even a boy! – in a sexual way, he felt pain.

Madame Pomfrey had no explanation; nor did Professor Snape or the headmaster.

He sent another letter to his father immediately. The reply was too scathing for words, and made Howlers look harmless.

“I would say that Peeves had struck again,” Dumbledore had said when Malfoy returned to him to complain some more, “if it was his style. But it isn’t. Peeves is an exhibitionist; had he done something like this he would have made a song and dance of it – literally.” He had chuckled, but Malfoy had remained unamused. “This seems more personal than the games of a poltergeist. We will simply have to hope that it wears off.”

Surrounded by girls, however, was making it bloody difficult for Draco Malfoy not to think about sex. He couldn’t even eat his dinner… especially when he had seen that sausages featured heavily.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

There was silence, but he replied. “Yes.”

“First the potion,” Hermione said, “and now… whatever you did.” He didn’t speak. “I’ve never heard of any magic like that. How did you do it?”

A pause. “I know a great deal that is not taught here.” His tone changed. “Uh, Hermione…”

“How much do you know?”

He chuckled. “How much do you wish to know?”

Hermione gasped. Her secret admirer had shown her into a large, single room on the fourth floor. He had led her blind-folded, and she finally knew how Belle must have felt when the Beast showed her the library.

Certainly, there weren’t as many books – although there were a great deal – and it wasn’t an open, airy place. But it was like the inside of a tower, all light-grey stonework, at least fifty feet high, towering bookshelves, a fireplace with two armchairs, a bed…

She blushed.

Hands gripped her shoulders. “This is where the ex-library books go,” he whispered, his voice slightly muffled by her hair. He kissed the top of her head and held tighter. “Not many people know about this room. In fact, you’re one of the few who has ever seen it.”

“Wow,” she said, her eyes taking in the rows of magical tomes.

“There are other books, too, but many of these are out-of-print, or out-of-date. There is no other collection like it in the world.”

Hermione shut her eyes by herself this time, the blindfold dropping from her hands. She breathed in the smell of old books and musty castle. She listened to the firewood crackling and sparking, and tried to ignore the four-poster in one corner of the room.

“H-how do you get to the books up there?” she asked, pointing to the top of a shelf.

He pulled her close and sighed. “I fly.”

“On your own, like… like V-voldemort?” she asked, her voice trembling as she gazed up.

“Yes,” he said. “But he is gone. I am here.”

“You are,” she said, smiling. “But where?”

“…Hermione, I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“This. I can’t be with you. It would be wrong.”

“Why?” she asked, the smile fading.

“I can’t explain…”

“Try,” she said; her voice had turned hard.

“Because…” He sighed again. “I don’t want to be like Draco Malfoy.”

Her eyes widened as she reached out for him. “No! You wouldn’t be anything like him. I know you by now. You’ve made me so happy, I just know you could never be cruel. Not to me.”

“I’m sorry…” he began, and she saw the door opening.

“Stop!” She slammed it shut, breathing heavily. “Is it me?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“What else?” he said, and he chuckled coldly. “It’s me.”

“I don’t care what you look like,” she said, hugging herself as she shuffled, glancing in the direction of his voice. “I’m not shallow. How could you think that of me?”

“Hermione, I don’t.”

“Have you been leading me on all this time?”

“I…” He stopped.

“Well?” she asked.

“We’re getting in too deep,” he muttered. “We should stop this now before things go too far.”

Hermione felt her heart constrict as the door opened again. He really was going.

“But,” she whispered, “I…”

“I am so sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”

She shivered as he ran his fingers through her hair, fighting back the tears.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered. “Please.”

I got the idea for Peeves dismissing the idea of being with Hermione while I was writing this chapter. The fact that he sees what he is doing as wrong is a big point in his favour, and even influenced this last scene.

To be continued!
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Finding True Happiness