Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"All right, maybe I shouldn't have said 'horrible.' Maybe just

'mistake.'"

"Yes, that certainly makes it all better. Look, Hermione, I know you don't want to hurt him, but he'll understand that this is temporary and not your fault — "

"He'll be angry with me," said Hermione. "But I don't mind that. I was thinking of you."

"Of me?"

"I don't want Harry to hate you. Because he needs you."

"Harry doesn't need me."

"Yes," she said. "He does."

"Hermione-" Draco passed a hand over his eyes, and sighed. "God, you're stubborn."

"He needs you," she repeated, her voice rising to a nearly hysterical pitch. "You know this will hurt him, and that it's you will make it worse- everything's so fragile already, and with this — "

"Harry's not that fragile," he said.

"Well, neither am I," said Hermione. "And I can fight this. And I will."

"You think you can fight it?" said Draco, and now he looked angry.

"You think you can fight what you feel, every second of every day, and pretend everything is fine, and it'll be easy?"

"It's not forever," she said. "It's just until I can reverse the spell."

"What if it can't be reversed?"

"Every spell can be reversed," she said.

"Not Avada Kedavra," he said, and she shivered.

"That's death," she said. "This is just a love spell."

He reached out and put a hand under her chin, tilting it so that she was forced to look at him. He was almost exactly the same height as Harry — she had to look up, but not too far up, to see his eyes.

"What does it feel like?" he said.

"What does what feel like?" she asked, although she knew what he meant.

"The spell," he said.

She heard her own voice as if it came from far away. "When I look at you, I want to die."

He was still holding her face in his hands, and as he stared at her, she saw his eyes soften, silver turning to gray. "Don't look at me," he said. His voice was soft, too, a voice he never used with anyone but her. "Don't look at me, don't talk to me, don't even come near me.

And I won't come near you. It's the only way."

"All right," said Hermione miserably. He was right; she didn't see what else they could do.

He let go of her, and she stepped back away from him.

"Let's go," he said.

As they rounded the side of the tower, Hermione saw Harry and Ron, standing in front of the wall, looking anxiously up at it as if they expected her or Draco to appear on top of it at any moment.

Ron was saying something to Harry, and Harry was shaking his head, not vehemently, but she could tell even from this distance that he was disagreeing firmly — and she paused there for a moment, just wanting to look at them — her two best friends in the world, whom she had been terrified she would never see again. Even the sight of them arguing with each other seemed unutterably endearing.

She glanced at Draco, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. He caught her eye, then jerked his chin towards Ron and Harry, obviously indicating that she should notify them of her presence. She frowned at him, and turned back towards the two boys.

"Ron!" she called, and then, louder, "Harry!"

Ron turned first, and saw her, and his blue eyes widened. And then Harry turned, and when she saw his face, and sudden wild happiness that flashed across it when he saw her, her knees gave out and she sat down hard on the ground.

She saw Harry break into a run, and then he had flung himself down beside her and was kneeling next to her in the grass. She saw him through unfocused eyes — a Harry-shaped shadow, with a blur of untidy hair — and then his arms were around her, and he was crushing her so tightly to him that she couldn't breathe. She threw her own arms around his shoulders, feeling him shaking, and realized — with a mixture of wonder and horror — that he was crying. Harry, who never cried, not even when he was eleven years old, not even in situations that would have made most children bawl like babies.

"Harry," she breathed.

"I thought you were dead," he said, into her hair. "I was sure of it."

"No — Harry, I'm fine — I'm perfectly all right."

He pulled away from her, just far enough to touch her face with his hand, running his finger over her cheekbone, down to her mouth.

"You don't know what it was like — "

"Shh," she said, pulled his head down, and kissed him fiercely. "I'm fine."

In answer, he just held her tighter. She clutched him back, feeling a little of the poisonous fear that seemed to have seeped into her system along with the potion fade away. The familiarity of Harry's embrace was utterly comforting, because, she thought, how powerful could a love potion be when you were already in love with somebody else? And her love for Harry wasn't at all diminished; she knew that without even thinking about it. He was as much a part of her as he had ever been. She lifted her face up to be kissed, holding him tightly as she did so, and thought, I can beat this. This is going to be easy.

"Oh, this is just revolting," said Ron, who was standing with Draco near the wall. They'd turned their backs so that they could no longer see Harry and Hermione, but they could still hear them, and neither of them was very happy about it.

"Love is a beautiful thing, Weasley," said Draco, staring up at the sky.

"Not when it's your two best friends," said Ron. "Yech, I can hear the slobbering noises."

"Just try to think about other things."

"Oh, I've got lots to think about," said Ron, and now there was an edge to his voice. "Like you, and why you didn't come back for us like Harry asked you to."

"No time," said Draco, shortly.

"I don't believe that," said Ron.

"I really don't care," said Draco.

Ron looked irritable, but before he had the opportunity to say anything, there was a soft *pop * and Charlie Weasley Apparated into the clearing.

"'Lo, Charlie," said Ron morosely.

Draco was startled. "It hasn't been that long, has it?"

"No," said Charlie, who was holding something in his hand — a letter, Draco saw. It looked as if Charlie had already opened it and read it. "But this came for you, Ron."

"Owl post?" said Ron, reaching for it curiously.

"It's from Sirius Black," said Charlie, looking faintly exasperated. "He was looking for Harry. He'd no idea where you'd all gone off to, of course. I finally wrung some information out of Ginny and wrote him a long letter back, but I'd still rather Harry wrote him as well.

Where is Harry, anyway — Good Lord!" exclaimed Charlie, catching sight of Harry and Hermione over Ron's shoulder. "Is that — "

"Hermione," said Ron flatly.

Charlie was still staring in astonishment. "I knew you came here looking for her, but I didn't know that Harry and Hermione were…"

He blinked. "Harry and Hermione?"

"I take it you've let your subscription to Witch Weekly lapse," said Draco. "Or you'd already know about this."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Ages," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"About fifteen minutes," said Draco.

"Not the er, kissing, I meant the relationship. You know what, never mind. I really don't need to know."

"We should really get back to the camp," said Draco.

"Right," said Charlie.

Nobody moved.

"You go get them," said Ron, grinning at Charlie. "You're in loco parentis around here."

"Can't be scarier than a lot of enraged dragons," pointed out Draco.

"I dunno," said Charlie. "I'd rather deal with a lot of enraged dragons than have to pry two lust-crazed adolescents off each other." He looked at Ron. "They're your best friends, you go peel them apart."

"Yeah, Weasley," said Draco. "What are you afraid of?"