Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

"Well, that's got rid of him for the moment," said Draco to Hermione. "Shall we get on with our conversation?"

That's it, Hermione thought to herself. Whatever else happens, I am keeping this dress. Lucius Malfoy will have to pry my cold dead fingers off it before I agree to give it up.

"Sure," said Hermione.

"What were we talking about?" said Draco.

"Hogwarts: A History," said Hermione, grinning.

This snapped Harry out of his daze. He looked at Draco in astonishment. "You've read Hogwarts: A History?"

"Why is this such a big deal?" Draco wondered aloud.

Harry looked none too pleased. "If you don't know I'm not going to tell you," he said.

Draco eyed him coolly. "You can't go to the reception looking like that, Potter," he said. "You look like you lay down and slept in your clothes."

Harry turned a scowling face on Draco. "Sorry if I'm not neat enough for you, Malfoy," he snapped. "I'm a bit tired. I've just spent the past hour helping your wretched father clean up his stupid office. Which you wrecked."

"I guess I shouldn't have done that," said Draco with false contrition. "I guess I should have sat back and let him TAKE HERMIONE'S CLOTHES OFF AND SNOG HER ON THE DESK!" He screamed this last bit, and Harry flinched in surprise. His eyes went immediately to Hermione.

"Is that true?" he said tensely.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

"I'm going to kill him," said Harry tonelessly. "When we get Sirius out. I'm going to come back and kill him. If I can't do Avada Kedavra on him, I'll chop of his head with one of his damn fencing swords."

Hermione was too shocked to say anything. She had never seen Harry look like this, never. It scared her.

"It's kind of rude," said Draco, "to talk about killing my dad when I'm standing right here, isn't it, Potter?"

"Are you going to try to stop me, Malfoy?" said Harry. "Because I don't advise it."

Draco, who had been lying on the bed on his stomach, sat up slowly. "And I advise you to let this go," he said. His own eyes were glittering angrily now. "Hermione is fine."

"She's not fine," said Harry. "She's had Malfoys trying to get into her pants all day, how could she be fine?"

"Fuck you, Potter," said Draco, getting to his feet and taking his wand out. Harry did the same. Hermione swiftly put herself between them, feeling deeply resentful of the whole situation.

"I AM FINE!" she yelled. "I AM PERFECTLY ALL RIGHT. IT IS YOU TWO THAT HAVE THE PROBLEM."

"I don't have a problem," said Draco. He was smiling a very horrible smile, which made Hermione stare in disbelief — she had never in her life seen an expression like that on Harry's face, it was as bizarre to her as if she had caught Lucius Malfoy salsa-dancing in the hallway. "He's got a problem."

"Oh, for God's sake," sake Hermione in disgust, took her wand out of her pocket, and said, "Expelliarmus!"

Both their wands soared into her grasp and she pocketed them. They stared at her in astonishment.

"Now," she said, "if you want to start killing each other, you will have to do it with old-fashioned bloodshed. Although I advise both of you to avoid stepping on my dress while you pound on each other, or damaging it in any way, because if you do, there will be Dark magic done in this room. And it will be done by me."

Draco was grinning again, but it was a much more pleasant grin this time.

"Whatever you say," he said.

But Harry wasn't smiling. Hermione looked over at him, and what she saw made her stomach flip-flop. He looked very pale, even paler than Draco usually looked, and his silver-blond hair was pasted to his forehead in sweaty tendrils. He was breathing unsteadily.

"Harry," she said in alarm, "are you all right?"

Harry shook his head, then sat down very suddenly on the floor. Hermione threw herself down next to him, and he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. Neither of them moved for several moments. Then Harry stood up, looking ghastly white but otherwise normal, and said, "I've got to go get dressed for the reception. I'll be right back," and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"He's gone mental," said Draco flatly, as soon as the door was shut.

"No," said Hermione, getting to her feet, "he's just feeling all sorts of things he's never felt before and he doesn't know how to deal with it. Harry isn't used to feeling hate, he doesn't hate people. Not even you," she added, with the ghost of a smile.

"Oh, come on," said Draco. "Surely he hates me?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I must be losing my touch," said Draco, and when she didn't smile, he added more seriously: "He's not a saint, Hermione."

"No," said Hermione quietly. "Just the best and bravest person I've ever known."

Draco didn't say anything after that. He sat quietly on the bed and after a few moments Hermione sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. He put his hand on her head, and very gently stroked her hair.

'Hermione…." he began.

"Shush," she said. "I'm not making some kind of gesture, Draco. I'm just doing this because right now, I want to. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's okay."

The party was quite as horrible as Hermione had expected. It was held in one of a set of enormous cold ballrooms, and the whole room was packed with Death Eaters in black robes. She was the only female there, aside from a huge woman in black satin whose laugh sounded like a cement mixer grinding.

"That's Eleftheria Parpis," said Harry in Hermione's ear. "I caught her and Lucius having a go at it in the drawing-room."

"Yech," said Hermione.

Harry smiled. He seemed to have recovered somewhat. He was looking a bit pale, but otherwise composed, in some of Draco's black fancy-dress robes. Various Death Eaters kept stopping and greeting him, and she could tell he was having a job trying to pretend he knew who they all were, but he was looking cool and unruffled. Very Draco-like, in fact. It was odd, she thought, she had always hated Draco far too much to see that he was good-looking, whatever Lavender and Parvati might say. But now she saw it; in fact, she saw that he was, in a classical sense, much better-looking than Harry could ever hope to be. It wasn't a beauty that made her stomach flip over, like Harry's did, but she did recognize that it was there.

"Lucius is some kind of sex maniac, I think," she whispered to Harry.

"Must be," said Harry. "After all, he tried to have it off with you, didn't he?" and he yelped with laughter as Hermione hit him playfully on the arm.

"Isn't there anything to eat?" said Hermione, looking around hopefully.

"I dunno," said Harry. "I think Lucius just got everyone together to tell them about his newest diabolical scheme, I don't think he was planning on feeding them."

"Do you think we can sneak off yet?" asked Hermione, craning her neck to scan the crowd. Somewhere by the wall, Draco was standing, wrapped in the invisibility cloak. She had explained the details of Lucius' plan to the boys, and they had decided to go and get Sirius right away. They had hoped that during the confusion of the party, they could all three sneak off to the drawing room and get down into the dungeons to rescue Sirius. So far there hadn't been an opening during which she and Harry could dart away, though.

"We could try," said Harry. "If they catch us they'll just think we're skulking off to make out."

"Hurray for teenage hormones," said Hermione. "Let's go snog behind a tapestry."

"Indeed," said a voice behind her. It was Lucius. Hermione jumped and blushed.

Eleftheria Parpis was with him; she was looking down at Hermione in a motherly sort of manner.

"Who can blame you, dear?" she said. "Draco is getting very handsome. Just like his father," she added, looking at Lucius in a sickening sort of way.