The Phoenix and Turtle

By Taelyn

Chapter 11: My Valiant Knight

"'It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are,

far more than our abilities.'"

-JK Rowling, CoS

. . . "Tell me," she said simply.

Ron sighed and raked his hand through his hair, sitting down in a chair across from Hermione and reaching out to take her hand.

"It's complicated, Hermione," he said exasperatedly, "and what Dad told us was . . . It wasn't pleasant."

Hermione frowned suddenly and jerked her hands from between his.

"Ron, I was there in the Department of Mysteries in the Fifth Year. I faced Lupin and Sirius in third, and I helped in the challenges that Dumbledore set up to protect the stone. Don't patronize me just because we're becoming more than friends," she said, her voice perhaps more on edge than she meant it to be.

"I'm not patronizing you, it's just . . ." Ron said, frustration visibly building in his eyes.

"Ron, just tell me and stop treating me like a child," she snapped, uselessly angry at the fact that he was trying to protect her.

Ron's ears turned slightly pink, and he sat back away from her. "Fine," he said curtly.

"The boy--he's a fourth year in Ravenclaw--was walking back to Hogwarts after visiting Hogsmeade. Dad said that all he really remembers is everything going black and then this horrible pain, as if--"

"you could feel every single ounce of emotion ever felt," Hermione interrupted, her eyes becoming unfocused as she frowned pensively.

"How did you know that?" Ron asked, his brow furrowing as he studied the girl in front of him.

"Read it somewhere," Hermione said vaguely, "please, go on."

"Anyway, the boy said it was like he could feel all of the pain in the world, all of the terror

and anger. He said that it was destroying who he was, that the pain was . . . I don't know . . . taking him over."

Hermione sat, quietly thinking, as she listened to Ron's description.

"How . . .how did he escape it and kill it?" she asked, almost tentatively, as her mind raced.

"The thing is, he said he didn't. He said he thought he was going to die, and then it felt as if the monster was pulling away. He could almost feel his mind returning to him. Then he blacked out."

"So no one has any idea how this thing was killed?" Hermione asked, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

Ron shook his head, watching her intently as he tried to find the right words to say to her.

"Hermione . . . I'm sorry," he began, stuttering slightly as he looked down at his lap.

"For what?" she asked, her mind clearing as she focused on his reddened face.

"If I had known that . . . that thing was out there that night, I never would have left you to walk back to the school alone," he said, looking up to meet her eyes, his own pleading silently for some sort of forgiveness.

Hermione's worried expression returned as she studied his face.

"So the last time I was with you that night was in Hogsmeade?" she asked.

"Ye-yes," Ron said, stumbling over the answer in a tone frank with confusion. "I went back with Ginny and Harry so I could copy . . . err . . .help Harry write his transfiguration assignment. Don't you remember?"

Hermione frowned, and then pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. Headaches were always so much fun when profound thoughts were called for.

"Of course," she said, sighing as she pushed the strands of her in her face behind her ears.

"Look Ron, I know we need to talk, but . . . I have something to do."

She got up out of the chair abruptly, and Ron stood up after her, following her as she quickly rushed to the exit.

"Hermione, are you sure we're okay?" he asked to her back as she slipped out of the portrait hole.

When her response was too muffled for him to even make out, he sighed and slouched down in a chair again, turning his face to study the fire as the portrait hole swung closed.

Draco,

It has come to my attention that the first Quidditch match of the season was cancelled due to inclement weather conditions, and, because there is no other reason to come, I will not be visiting you this winter.

The Ministry has not yet scheduled a date for your father's appeal, but we have decided to keep the manor and all of the Malfoy business running in his absence, meaning that we will not be joining the Parkinson's at their estate for Christmas and also will have little time for festivities. I will send an escort to meet you at the station and will expect you home before tea.

Your father sends his regards and reminds you that your loyalties, especially in these trying times, lie with your family above all else.

I look forward to your homecoming.

All my love, Your Mother

Draco stared at the spindly script on the piece of parchment in front of him, his frustration growing as he read further and further into the letter.

"Go away," he snapped at his owl as it searched his robes for a treat. Obviously very offended, it left in a flash of feathers, but not before biting him hard on his finger.

"Stupid bloody bird," Draco mumbled, checking to make sure the owl hadn't broken the skin and then returning his gaze to the letter.

Family loyalty. What his father meant was be ready to become a Death Eater at any time, and don't shame the family.

His eyes clouded over as he thought about the conversations he had shared with a certain muggleborn, and his scowl deepened as the path in his mind led to the clear memory of the Saturday morning that they had woken up side by side.

'Father would have me murdered if he knew,' Draco thought grimly, crumpling the parchment and dropping it in the bin next to the table.

The library was completely deserted of people. At the news that the boy from Ravenclaw had woke, most had gone scurrying to their common rooms or some other place of social meeting. He had followed, overheard most of the story from a loud lower year, and then retreated into the back of the library after his eagle owl had found him and delivered the letter.

First Blaise, now his father--did they think that, for one moment, he could forget his duty towards his family? Obviously with relatives such as his own, it was impossible.

And yet, the nagging memory of the detention he had served . . . of Granger's reverie at his singing, at the way the snow seemed to cling to her eyelashes.

He had forgotten. That entire afternoon, his mind had not once reminded him of house or blood loyalties.

"Horrible," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and massaging his temples as he rested his elbows on the table in front of him.

"What exactly?" said a too-crisp voice from behind him.

Draco slouched further into the chair, opening his eyes but making no move to turn around as he stared at the bookcase in front of him.

"You," he said, groaning as Hermione moved around him and into view.

"Tisk tisk, Draco--hardly a creative comeback," she said as he looked up at her.

Hermione was dressed only in her school uniform, her robes probably discarded in her room, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She was clutching a book in her arms almost like a child would hold on to a security blanket, and her cheeks were still red--from what Draco could only guess.

"What do you want, Granger," he asked, letting more exhaustion slip into his tone than he meant to. Hermione studied him for a moment before sitting down in the chair across from him.

"We need to talk about that night," she said, and Draco looked quickly around, eyes searching for any eavesdroppers.

"Say it louder--I don't think the class in the Astronomy Tower heard you," he hissed as he turned back around to face her.

"No one's here, you paranoid little git," she said, frustrated already at the fact that he could make her so furious in so short a time.

"Well then, let's by all means discuss such a sensitive topic at the top of our voices," he said caustically, hoping she would get angry enough at him to leave.

"You're not getting out of this Malfoy," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "We need to talk about it sooner or later, and--"

"No we don't," he cut in. "We don't have to talk about it. We need to forget about it and go about our normal lives, hopefully staying blessedly separate from now on."

Hermione glared at him. "We can't have our normal lives with this huge occurrence in our past, Malfoy," she said, her countenance undulating fury as she got out of the chair and started pacing. "The only way we can resolve this is to find out what happened--"

"Just like a Gryffindor, making sure to become recklessly involved in stupid plans that won't solve anything," Draco snapped, getting up out of his seat too and moving towards her.

Hermione stopped pacing as she watched him approach. He came within inches of her, and she could barely see the scars on his cheek, almost completely faded.

"I can't have a normal life--" she began, her eyes slits as she met his gaze.

"You seem to be just fine," he said, interrupting her mercilessly as his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her hard voice edged with curiosity.

"You and Weasely seem to be 'having a normal life' just fine right now," he said, regretting it immediately afterwards but too angry to stop.

Hermione stared at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise as she digested his comment. She closed it quickly and set her jaw.

"What goes on between Ron and I is quite obviously none of your business," she said, pushing past him and moving towards the table where she had set down her book.

A small part of Draco realized that he had won--that she was leaving like he had wanted her to. But every feeling of anger and frustration that had been coursing through his system in the past week was suddenly blinding him.

"You come in here, all red-cheeked from Merlin-knows-what activity you and that red-haired sod have been up to and--"

"What?!!" Hermione turned around, shock obvious on her face as she whirled around to face him. The look on his face nearly sent her flying at him, but instead she tried to control her anger.

"You know what? Fine, Malfoy, fine. I'll stay away from you as long as you stay the hell away from me," she said, visibly shaking from the suppressed anger.

"It would be my bloody pleasure," Draco nearly yelled, obviously not caring anymore about the volume of their conversation.

She turned again, reached for the book, and was about to make her way out of the library.

But something in Draco made him snap. He wasn't ready for her to leave.

"You kissed him, didn't you?" he asked, his eyes hard, his mouth clenched in a scowl.

Hermione stared at him, completely unbelieving what she had heard. "Excuse me?"

"Did. You. Kiss. Him?" he asked. "Do I have to make myself any clearer?"

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Are you completely insane?" she sputtered, turning slightly red under his very fierce gaze.

"I knew it!" he said triumphantly. "I knew you had--stupid mudblood whore that you are."

Hermione gasped sarcastically. "Now that's creative Malfoy, really, I don't think you've used that one before."

"Stupid ugly cow," he muttered, and Hermione, completely distracted from the topic at hand, felt suddenly as if she needed to lash out at him.

"Well at least I'm not some vain peacock, strutting around and spending hours perfecting charms for his hair," she said, if slightly childishly, and she reached up to mess up his hair.

"I mean, Merlin Malfoy, do you use shellac to keep it in place?" she questioned mockingly, her hands avoiding his grasp to tug at his head.

He finally caught both her hands and pulled her closer towards him.

"Don't," he said, as menacingly as possible, "Don't touch the hair."

He expected her to shrink back at the cold tone of his voice, but instead of cringing from his threat, she stared at him wide-eyed, and then burst out laughing.

'This seems to be happening too bloody often,' he thought, as he tried to figure out what had the girl before him in hysterics.

"What?" he asked, his voice coming out more whiny and high pitched than he meant it to, which only sent Hermione into another fit of giggles. "What?"

He pushed her back, away from him, quickly checking to make that his hair was still in place, and then looking back over at the girl before him.

She was red and out of breath as she recovered, and to try to regain control of her breathing, she reached out to steady herself on his shoulder.

Of course, Draco hardly expected that. And, with relatively no control and less grace, he fell backwards, trying to steady himself on Hermione but only pulling her backwards as he fell.

His back hit the ground moments before their bodies connected. Surprisingly enough, in the moment before, his mind registered that the air had not been knocked out of him.

And then they connected. Knee to knee, chest to chest, and, before either of them could stop it, their lips met as Hermione crashed down onto him.

Both too surprised to move, they lay there, Hermione on top of Draco, their lips pushed together by the force of the fall.

And suddenly the astonishment faded, and yet their mouths were still locked in a soft kiss. Hermione closed her eyes as she felt his hands snake up into her hair, and she moved her

mouth slightly against his as he her head closer.

'Stop! Stop!" her mind screamed as she felt his tongue press against her lips, but the adrenaline that was pumping through her system seemed to take over as she opened her mouth. Suddenly, all she could feel and think about was Draco Malfoy.

And memories flashed through her mind.

Harry's face as he faced Draco on the steps in first year--

The Slytherin's taunting her mercilessly about her appearance and parents--

Draco's face as he called her a mudblood for the first time--

The slap--

The bouncing Ferret, Slugs, Voldemort, Ron--

Hermione pulled out of the kiss abruptly as Ron's red hair and freckles popped into her mind, the image disappearing quickly as she felt Draco moan softly under her.

She knew long before she opened her eyes that he was breathing just as hard as she was--she felt his heartbeat and his quickened breathing through what seemed like an extremely thin layer of clothing. Her own breasts were pressed tight against his chest, and they shared the same breaths as she tried to convince her eyes to open.

When they finally did, Hermione blushed scarlet red.

The look in his eyes was fierce, to say the least. But it was the reflection of her own face in his pale gaze, the sight of her pupils dilated and her hair mussed around her face, that sent hot blood rushing to her cheeks.

"Oh my," she said, gasping slightly as Draco shifted under her. "Ow."

Draco frowned. "I didn't quite expect that reaction," he muttered, watching as Hermione's face screwed up in obvious pain.

"Ow, ow, ow," she continued, trying to twist around, and Draco leaned up, looking over both of their bodies to see what she was exhausting herself to look at.

"Dammit," he said immediately, realizing that her ankle had been caught between his own body and the table during the fall--and was twisted at an unnatural angle away from her.

"Is it bad?" Hermione asked nearly breathlessly as Draco tried to move out from under her.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked, harsher than he meant to as he tried to

push the sight of her lips and the feel of her body against his own from his mind.

It amazed him how angry she could look while in so much pain.

"You complete prick," she began, the words barely above a whisper as she fought to breath.

"This is your fault, and you have the gall to speak to me that way?"

Draco scowled. "My fault?" he asked incredulously, crouching down beside her after wiggling his way out from under her. "I wasn't the one who decided to send us both tumbling to the floor for Merlin only knows what perverted reason."

"You're the one who I seem to remember was copping a feel, Malfoy," Hermione spat angrily, twisting out of his grasp as he tried to put his arms under her. "What are you doing?" she snapped, wincing as her ankle seemed to throb even harder.

Draco gritted his teeth.

"We haven't reached the lesson in Charms on levitating humans, and, unless I'm very mistaken, neither of us have our wands anyway."

Hermione glowered at him, knowing he was right and cursing herself from not grabbing her wand out of her robes before she came looking for him. How, all of the sudden, had she become so airheaded?

The answer to her internal question kept talking as he again moved to pick her up.

"You need to get to the Infirmary, and, as much as it would be quite amusing to leave you in the middle of the library completely incapacitated, I'm on thin ice with the Headmaster already."

Hermione opened her mouth to object as he lifted her off the floor, but the pain that shot up her leg stopped the words in her throat.

"Merlin, Granger, how many bricks do you have hidden in that uniform of yours?" he asked, hoping to make the fact that, as he stood up, her body began to press closer to his own--which, without his permission, responded immediately.

"You really are a prat," Hermione sputtered out, her hands moving around his neck as she frowned up at him. "First you insult me, then you kiss me, then you insult me even more--"

"I did not kiss you," he almost yelled, moving quickly towards the door of the library as he forced his mind to picture Millicent Bulstrode in red silk lingerie. It seemed to work.

"Well, I certainly didn't kiss you," Hermione retorted, looking flustered at the memory.

"Fine--it was a complete mistake on both our parts: a horrible accident," Draco said matter of factly, eyeing the girl in his arms as he said the words. She nodded her head in agreement.

"A terrible, disgusting mistake," she conceded emphatically as she forced herself to keep from relaxing against his chest.

"Wait--hey!" Draco began suddenly. "How was it disgusting?" he spluttered, cursing himself as she looked at him, bewildered.

"I mean, I'm sure I'm not a bad kisse, and . . . " he trailed off, his gaze intent on the wall ahead of him as waited for her reaction.

Hermione would have blushed even redder if it was physically possible. "Fine," she said slowly, "it wasn't a disgusting mistake, per se--it was just a mistake."

"Completely," Draco said quickly.

"Totally," Hermione agreed.

"A stupid, unlucky . . . " Draco's voice trailed off as he looked back at the girl in his arms.

It was a simultaneous movement of both that caused the embrace--Draco dipping down as Hermione moved up towards him, the kiss furious and far from the hesitant kiss they had shared moments before.

Draco tried to move her in his arms into a more comfortable position, his hands awkwardly manoeuvring her body as neither felt themselves capable to pull away.

When Hermione realized how bad of a job Draco was doing, she broke the kiss with a soft laugh against his mouth, causing him to smile grimly against her lips before pulling away.

The throbbing pain suddenly registered again in Hermione's brain as she stared silently at Draco.

"I guess . . ." he began, "that that wasn't an accident?"

"I don't think it was a mistake either," Hermione whispered, later blaming her lapse in sanity on the current of hormones rushing through her system.

"Dammit," Draco said, still holding her tightly in his arms as he sighed angrily.

Hermione bit her lip, fighting hard not to show how painful her leg really was.

"Draco, I think I really need to get to the Infirmary," she said, the words tumbling from her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

His eyes grew wide as she looked at him, she just as astonished at her own slip of the tongue.

"I meant Malfoy," she said quickly as he stared at her. "I meant to say Malfoy."

"Granger," he began softly, his voice hesitant and confused, his face showing frankly the turmoil of his thoughts.

"Get your hands off her Malfoy!"

Hermione jumped at the caustic voice that came suddenly from behind them. She heard Draco muttered, "Oh Merlin, not now," before she was dropped to the floor.

Not as gently as she, perhaps, would have like to have been.

"Ow!" she screeched indignantly, looking up at the figure that stood over her. He glanced down, his face almost apologetic, before looking back up and moving backwards just in time to evade the punch meant to connect with his jaw.

"You stupid bastard, how dare you?" Ron yelled, advancing past Hermione and towards the retreating Draco.

"How dare I what?" Draco asked, wearily avoiding the constant punches thrown at his face. If anything, the morbid curiosity as to how much Weasley had seen was enough to keep him from running fast away from the increasingly angry redhead.

"I saw you holding her," Ron bit out, snarling as he tried to close the gap between his opponent and himself.

"That's all?" Draco asked, half-relieved as Ron stared at him, momentarily frozen in place as he digested his words.

"Of course that's all, what's that supposed to--"

"Hello? Boys? Injured party here?" they both heard, Ron turning around to look at Hermione for the first time.

"Hermione, you're hurt!" he exclaimed as he rushed towards her.

"Well, Granger, you've certainly got a smart one there," Draco said, the arrogance sliding easily back into his voice.

Hermione glared at him, angry if only because she found a voice in her head agreeing with his remark.

"I'll leave you two alone to sort out this mess," Draco continued as Ron glared at him.

"What did you do?" he said, his voice hoarse with anger.

"He did nothing, Ron," Hermione said, ignoring Draco as the Slytherin raised his eyebrows suggestively at her words. She squared her shoulders. "It was an accident."

The sneer disappeared from his face as Draco surveyed Hermione.

"A mistake," he supplied, setting his jaw and ignoring Ron's glare.

Hermione dropped her eyes to the floor and nodded her assent.

Draco scowled. "As I see my . . . skills here won't be needed any further . . .," he said, a hint in his voice that caused Ron to look at him questioningly.

Hermione looked up, her eyes hard as she met his gaze. "I'd hardly call them skills, Malfoy," she hissed.

Draco smirked at her, and, ignoring Ron completely, he moved towards Hermione, bending down when he reached her.

For a moment, Hermione thought that he was going to kiss her again. Her sharp intake of breath in response caused his sneer to grow as he surveyed her face up close.

"Have fun explaining that blush to your boyfriend, Hermione," he whispered softly enough that only she could hear, moving away from her before she had the chance to retaliate.

And, as he heard her shriek in fury from behind him, as he heard Ron ask what was the matter and her answer in a low mumble, as he pictured that livid face of hers again, he suddenly had the urge to turn around and confess to Ron exactly what part of their interactions he had missed.

Instead, he kept walking back towards his room.

Fifteen minutes later, after an excruciatingly cold shower, he finally realized that he had called her by her first name without meaning to.

Sighing, he slipped out of his robe again, walked back into the bathroom and switched the freezing water back on.

He had several shopping bags with him, able to afford nearly half of Hogsmeade after receiving the owl of galleons his mother had sent him.

It was late and he had left Crabbe and Goyle behind hours ago to keep Pansy occupied and away from him. Blaise had decided to stay at school for the night, perhaps find a way to torture the house elves into letting slip the password for the Gryffindor common room.

The road back to school was completely deserted as he strode along.

And then a shriek pierced the silence, and Draco suddenly saw a dark hulking figure move away from another, much smaller figure and towards what was quite obviously a woman.

'Back away,' his mind told him. 'You're not like those idiot Gryffindors that go barrelling into perilous situations without half a thought.

But Draco pushed back the thought. To upstage Potter, he would have to fight fire with fire.

And hoping he wasn't about to step straight into sudden death, he reached inside his robes for his wands, and quickly moved towards the figures.

"Pleasant night, isn't it?"

A/N: Sigh. Too OOC? Grr. I'm really not too happy with this chapter, but it's been really really difficult to write. So sorry if this is hardly . . . I'm guessing the word is at all good. Anyway, people are obviously beginning to figure things out . . . I am getting close to the end. Of course, I'm not sure whether to end it or write a sequel. Again: sigh. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think--and how I can fix this chapter since it's annoying the hell out of me. And I know that the interruptions are getting a little . . . hard to believe, but trust me when I say that I'm modelling it after my own lovely romance life and all of the fun chaos it's become. Hurrah for real life. Please review though--I miss my old house, I miss my old town, country, continent, etc, and I'd really like a friendly voice or two. It takes two seconds and it means the world to me.

Take care (and I love you anyway--even if you don't review), Taelyn

PS: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I mean really, when I say that I am eternally grateful, I mean it. If you ever need a kidney or a lung or anything (except for a house-sitter, since I've found I'm not so good at that), just ask.