He pulled her towards him, and put his arms around her — but made no move to kiss her. Just held her there, his face in her hair, his hands clenched into fists against her back. It was a very awkward hug — the first really awkward thing she had ever seen him do — as if he'd never hugged anyone before. Maybe he hadn't.
The moment she raised her own hands — to embrace him or push him away, she wasn't sure — his arms went rigid and he shoved her away from him. She felt a sudden sharp pain at the back of her neck, glimpsed a flash of gold as he stepped back from her, and saw the Epicyclical Charm glittering in his hand. He had yanked it off her throat.
'Now you can't find me,' he said.
'You idiot,' she exclaimed, and launched herself at him, grabbing hold of his sleeve and hanging on tightly. She raised her voice, and shouted, 'Harry! Ron! We're over here! Harry! Anybody!'
'Hermione, shut up,' he exclaimed, trying to wrench his arm out of her grip, but she hung on with determination. 'Let me go.'
'No,' she said.
He looked at her. 'I'm sorry, then,' he said, and raised his hand, the Charm on its chain looped around his fingers, and pointed it at her -
— 'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he repeated. 'Stupefy!'
She didn't even have a chance to look surprised, just fell backwards, unconscious, onto the grass. He wanted to drop down next to her, make sure she was all right, but there was the sudden sound of running feet on gravel, and he looked up and saw Ginny, standing on the path, staring from one of them to the other. 'You knocked her out?' she said, looking utterly amazed. 'Draco, what on earth-?'
'Had to,' he said briefly, and started to back up toward the wall, feeling behind him for his broomstick. The sound of more running feet was audible now — Harry and Ron, he thought dismally, as his hand closed around his Firebolt. He mounted it, and looked back at Ginny, standing next to Hermione on the wet ground.
'When she wakes up, tell her — ' Draco began, and felt his throat close up suddenly. Ginny was looking at him, her expression unreadable in the half-light. 'Oh, forget it,' he finished wearily. 'For once in my life, I've got nothing at all to say.'
And with that, he kicked off, leaning forward to grip his Firebolt tightly, soaring upward, vanishing into the night sky.
There was just enough illumination in the cell for Lucius Malfoy to see the circle he had drawn on the floor in his blood. They would not, of course, let him have a wand; he had had to bite one of the veins in his wrist open with his own teeth to get what he needed. But it was far from the worst thing he had ever been forced to do.
Moving carefully, he sat down in the center of the circle, arranging his robes carefully around him. Then he held his hands out before him, in the left hand his son's Epicyclical Charm held loosely, its dull gold glittering in the faint light. 'Vocatio,' he whispered, and paused. Did he still remember how to do this? Yes. Yes, of course he did. 'Vocatio,' he began again, the words of the Summoning spell coming more easily to him now: Master, I have something for you…
1) 'Probably on account of that one time you beat him up for seven years straight when we were in school.' Buffy 2) 'If you think that by threatening me you can get me to do whatever you want,' he said, and paused, '-well, that's where you're right.' — Real Genius.
3) 'I may be a cold-blooded piece of toast, but I've got impeccable timing.' Buffy.
4) 'I'm storming away; it doesn't work if you come with me' — Buffy, 'Dopplegangland'
5) Lycanthe: The concept comes from Tanith Lee's Lycanthia, in which Lycanthes are symbols scratched in snow to keep werewolves away. I have retained the crossed-X shape.
'Enervate,' Ginny whispered, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open.
For a moment she looked dazed, her eyes reflecting stars and moonlight, and then she sat up and clutched at Ginny. Startled, Ginny nearly fell over, but hugged her back. 'It's all right, you're all right,' she said.
Hermione continued clutching at her arm, and Ginny saw that the glittering in her eyes wasn't the reflected night sky after all, but tears. 'Is he gone?'
Ginny replied flatly. 'He's gone.'
Hermione released her hold on Ginny's arm. A number of emotions flickered across her face — hope, grief, longing, confusion. Gratitude.
'I'm glad he's gone,' Hermione said, fiercely.
'Right,' said Ginny, standing up and reaching out a hand to pull Hermione up after her. 'Come on, up you get.'
'Okay,' said Hermione, and bit back a sniffle. She raised up her hand to take Ginny's, and asked, 'Did he say anything? Did you see him before he left?'
Ginny sighed. 'He didn't exactly-'
'Never mind,' said Hermione, quickly. 'Better I don't know.'
Ginny bit back the urge to speak sharply to Hermione, who was beginning to look tearful again. It was odd, she thought, Hermione had always been not just older, but so together, competent, and controlled than Ginny had always been a bit jealous. Now that she seemed to have been reduced to a wreck of her former self, Ginny found herself feeling less jealous than desperate to have the old Hermione back again. The old Hermione would have known what to do. This one just wanted to sit on the ground and blub about Draco.
Ginny thought that if Hermione said one more thing about Draco she would shake her until her hair frizzed up again.
She helped Hermione up to her feet just as Harry and Ron burst out of the shrubbery and into the clearing. Both boys were out of breath and covered in leaves and twigs. Ron spoke first. 'Hermione, you all right, we heard you yelling-'
