Chapter 70: 21
The first half of the Summer term went very quickly and not a week went by without at least one Death Eater killing. General happiness in the castle seemed to have reached an all time low. Of course, apart from with Draco Malfoy who grew increasingly arrogant and, consequently, even more annoying. He actually became annoying to the point where, one night when he was doing his Prefect duty, Kathryn actually followed him under the cover of her invisibility cloak and hexed him once he reached one of the most remote corridors of the castle. He was found just after breakfast the next morning in the full body bind and with large, pus filled boils all over his face. They saw him hurrying along to the hospital wing the next morning, along with Snape, with his robes covering his face.
"Well, I would have used a bat-bogey hex." She told them over lunch, Malfoy now boil free and looking in a vicious mood. "But Ginny is well known for that so I didn't want her to get the blame."
"He deserved it." Ron said before Hermione could tell her off.
"Anyway, I figured that I owe him a lot of hexes before I completely get my own back for what he did last year." She referred to the curse that he had put on her, nearly killing her.
"Yeah, scrubbing out the owlery really wasn't enough." Harry agreed with his sister.
"We can only hope that the Ravenclaw beaters' knock him off his broom next weekend."
"That wouldn't do any better; his Dad would go the whole hog and try to get them expelled or something." Hermione said in a depressive tone.
"He couldn't, it's part of the game." Harry protested.
"He'd try."
"Dumbledore would never let him anyway, Hermione." Kathryn shook her head at the irrational level this had gone to. "He may have a hand in every pocket, but not here. The Governors can influence school rules, allocate funds, appoint and dismiss teachers and all of that stuff," Kathryn explained, "but they have no real control over the running of the school, they only set the guidelines, and they have no power to influence expulsions."
"How do you know all that?" Ron goggled at her.
"I've talked to them, I've read books." Kathryn shrugged.
"Well, it's a good thing that they don't influence expulsions." Ron said in a relieved tone. "Otherwise they'd have had us out by second year, what with the car, the polyjuice potion and the Basilisk." The four of them laughed. It was true; in all their years at Hogwarts they must have broken hundreds of school rules, especially during Umbridge's tenure; when you broke the rules just to get back at the evil toad. Even if you were caught, despite your having to write lines with a quill that incised the words into the back of your hand, you knew that you had caused enough mayhem to really annoy her. She and Harry still had the words 'I must not tell lies' on the backs of their hands, and they were only beginning to fade after just over four years. Despite Hermione's strong ideals about how they shouldn't be breaking the rules, they had become the best at it in the school, partially due to their possession of two invisibility cloaks and two Marauder's Maps.
The day of the last Quidditch match before the final dawned bright and clear, with a light breeze and only a few wispy white clouds scudding across the pale blue sky. The match was being played in the afternoon to allow the pitch to dry out after the torrential rain of the past few days.
"Why do we always have to play Slytherin in torrential rain?" Ron moaned as they walked out across the lawns towards the pitch.
"Because we'll thrash them anyway, Ron. It doesn't really matter on the weather!" Kathryn laughed. "We do get to play them in the sun though, you know, when we kick their spoiled little arses in the final." Several large Slytherin seventh years cracked their knuckles menacingly as they heard this. The four of them replied by staring them down, not intimidated in the least, being at least two years older than them and having faced tings far worse than five beefy Slytherins.
"It's better for tactics too." Harry added. "They don't notice that you're flying straight for them until you're five feet away."
"On a Firebolt you don't notice someone's flying for you until they've gone past!" Ron laughed, feeling glad for the fact that he didn't have to play against Harry and Kathryn as, when it came to Quidditch, they were the most competitive players in the school. At least, that was the way it went when it came to matches against Slytherin. When it came to their other matches, Kathryn wasn't as worried about aggressive tactics and clever strategies as she knew that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were less likely to take every opportunity to foul them. When it came to Slytherin, she went into killer mode and matched Malfoy's desire to win by any means with her own desire to show them up. Harry, Ron and Hermione loved this as, each and every time; she ensured the humiliation of Malfoy in front of the entire school and his father who was always watching.
They sat in the front row of the stands with Neville, Luna, Ginny, Dean and Seamus. Across the stadium from them, she could make out the blond head of Lucius Malfoy watching as his team predictably cruised to an easy victory. She could also see, however, the way his eyes lingered several times on their part of the stadium and she knew that he was looking at her. The game ended quickly; the speed of the Slytherin team's brooms giving them the definite upper hand.
"Hermione." Harry asked as they walked back towards the castle. "Are you going to let us have the day off from revision?" he said this tentatively as Hermione was already highly strung even though the exams did not start until after the half term holidays.
"I gave you today off anyway. I said I'd help Dennis Creevey with his transfiguration tonight; he's a little worried about the NEWT's."
"That's ok then, we said we'd help the fifth years with their practical stuff for Defence Against the Dark Arts." Ron explained. "We're meeting them in the Room of Requirement after dinner.
"All three of you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, knowing that they did not really need three people to do that sort of stuff.
"Not me, Hermione." Kathryn shook her head. "I might go for a wander, I'd quite like to just relax for a while." The sun had come out fully now and it was shaping up to be quite a nice day.
"Not bad, just don't get used to it!" Harry laughed. "At least, not yet!"
After a dinner of corned beef pie, salad and ginger cake; Kathryn broke with what had become habit over the last year. Instead of heading to the seventh floor and consequently the Room of Requirement, she turned in the other direction as she left the Great Hall and headed out into the grounds. She made sure that people saw her wave goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione at the doors of the Great Hall and head the opposite way, especially one person who she knew would want to find her at some stage.
Taking of her trainers and socks, as the grass had by now dried off, she padded barefoot across the lush green lawns and down toward the lake. It was refreshing to feel the blades of grass between her toes, tickling her feet as she walked. Reaching the lake, she rolled up the bottoms of her jeans and walked through the shallows; feeling instantly calm as the cool water touched her skin. Settling herself on the grassy bank concealed by an outcrop of blossom trees, she kept her feet submerged; twirling them round and making patterns in the sand at the bottom. She allowed her mind to wander as she lay there; her eyes closed, the early evening sun warming her skin. Her mind worked its way through everything; the continual thoughts of Voldemort that forever lingered in her mind, her friends and how she was betraying them, Lucius Malfoy and the increasing uncertainty she had over her feelings towards him. Was she falling in love, or had she been in love for a while already and her heart had just been denying it?
She wasn't sure how long she had lain there when a shadow fell across her face.
"I don't suppose I need to ask who it is?" she said to the person standing over her. In response, the figure kissed her. "Yep, didn't think so." She gave a satisfied smile, still not opening her eyes.
"So, we have the same line up for the final as we have had for the last three years. Your predictions for the outcome?" he asked, sitting next to her on the grass.
"I will say nothing yet, but, I have never lost a Quidditch match and I do not intend to stop now." She smiled at him, flicking water at him with her toes.
"I couldn't persuade you otherwise?" he ran his hand enticingly down her back.
"Not for all the gold in Gringotts. Nor for anything you can give me." He was surprised to hear her saying this. He could give her something she had probably desired for over a year; freedom from him. And yet, she would be prepared to refuse this for the sake of Quidditch.
"You're sure?"
"Yes. Also, somehow I don't think I'd be able to convince the team to play badly." She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. In response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Don't fret. It's the last time you'll have to see your team, and your son, humiliated. I do apologise for taking such pleasure in it." She laughed, kissing him again before he could reply.
"Apology accepted." He smiled back at her.
"Anyway," she went on, "we may be having another ball if I can sway the teachers." She told him excitedly.
"Why? There isn't any real reason."
"Well, everyone's pretty depressed thanks to your friends' antics so I thought it might be good to do something to take our minds off it for a moment." She explained, her voice taking on a serious tone when she spoke the words 'your friends' antics'. "And you said that the Governors were agreeable to some kind of event in the summer."
"You will, of course, consider yourself taken." He said, bending his head to kiss her neck. Dusk was beginning to fall and a cool breeze was blowing through the trees behind them.
"You assume the Governors are invited." She said with an air of false surprise. "How presumptuous!" she laughed.
"You wouldn't have told me otherwise."
"I may have many young men lining up to go with me you know." She looked him up and down, as if considering his worthiness as a partner.
"So you may." He conceded. "But how many of them will provide you with adequately beautiful garments and jewels. I do not believe that students can afford what I am able to give." There was a slight tone of satisfaction in is voice as he said this.
"Will you not cause a scandal when, although you are a widower, the woman you escort is not of pure-blood ancestry?" it was a serious question, especially as he had always prided himself being a pureblood and considered all others inferior.
"Yes, but you do not go with me out of choice." He said, inventing this as he went along. "You go with me out of duty, pity and compassion."
"It won't go down well with people if they hear that I sympathise with you, let alone feel sorry for you."
"Duty it is then." He kissed her more keenly this time, pulling her gently down so she was lying next to him. She lay there for a while, gazing up at the slowly appearing stars as he kissed her. She was not, however, too lost in the moment to not notice his hands as they worked their way lower and lower on her waist until they were actually starting to undo the buttons of her jeans. She grabbed his wrist and shook her head.
"Not here." She whispered, acutely aware of how close the castle, with its many lit windows, was. He didn't seem to care; fighting her firm grip, a roguish glint in his eye.
"Live a little." He whispered in her ear.
"Yeah." She said sarcastically. "And what will I say when I get back after they've locked the doors?"
"Say you fell asleep?"
"They search the grounds too, before the doors are locked for the night." She slipped out of his grasp, straightening her top and doing up her jeans. "Things have changed slightly." She scraped her hair behind her ears in an effort to look slightly less ruffled.
"So it seems." He too stood up, also straightening himself out.
"I'll be missed," she glanced up towards Gryffindor tower, "well, they'll get suspicious. Especially as they know you're about." In his eyes, she looked truly miserable at having to leave. He leaned in and kissed her, feeling her smile as their lips met. As she made to leave, he pulled her close one final time and bent down to whisper in her ear.
"Come find me." She gave an almost indiscernible nod before running back towards the castle, shoes in hand and her raven hair flying out behind her. Had he known better, in the darkness he would have mistaken her, in her pale clothes, for being a ghost, a nymph or something ethereal like that. His wife had been a beautiful woman; regal and manicured to perfection, the perfect pure-blood wife. Yet here he was captivated by the simple beauty this girl possessed. True, she could look perfectly stately and imposing when she wanted, but this was the way he liked her best; youthful, smiling and with his ring around her finger. He had noticed that it was now a near continual feature on her elegant hand; a far cry from a year ago when she wore it in secret. He too walked back up to the castle, taking his time so their arrivals would not come too close together and consequently look dubious; the saying that walls could talk was quite true at Hogwarts.
She did look for him. Later that night she sat on her mattress, her fingers running over the Marauder's Map. She had been sitting like this for several minutes now, poring over every room in the castle. She had seen Dumbledore pacing his office as he regularly did, Filch and Mrs Norris roaming the portrait gallery, McGonagall supervising a detention and, her finger stopped dead on the parchment, Lucius Malfoy in a small room on the ninth floor.
Although she was allowed to be out in the corridors until midnight, she tucked her invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map into her bag just in case. She was able to slip quite easily out of the common room as Hermione was huddled in a corner with Dennis Creevey poring over an essay for transfiguration and Harry and Ron had not yet returned from the Room of Requirement. She wandered quite freely through the castle, taking a long and convoluted route to the ninth floor so it looked as if she was, at various points, heading to several different places. She could feel the anticipation well up inside of her as she approached the inconspicuous door, but worked hard to conceal it as she walked straight in like it was just a spare classroom. On the other side of the door, however, she quickly made sure it was completely impenetrable with a few quick waves of her wand.
The room was dark; the heavy red drapes drawn fully across the windows and only the fire for light. She could see him sitting on the edge of the large four poster bed; his jacket discarded and his cane lying on a nearby table. She took time to study his features as he sat there waiting for her; his long blond hair fell perfectly down his shoulders and his face had a thoughtful expression playing across it. She considered this as she pulled off her jeans; considered his flawless posture, ingrained in him from his strict upbringing.
She saw his head turn at the sound of the denim hitting the floor, followed by her grey top. Standing there in only her lacy black bra and French knickers, she saw him smile as she reached into her bag and pulled out a floaty cream kaftan-esque dressing gown that reached her knees and did nothing to conceal what was beneath. She tied the drawstring loosely; making sure it highlighted her curves, before walking towards him. He reached out his arm to her as she approached, wrapping it round her waist and pulling her closer. He didn't seem to be in the mood to move for her so instead she levered herself up onto his lap and knelt there as his hands stroked up the silky skin of her back. In response she touched her lips to his face, kissing first one cheek then the other before finally meeting his lips. Once she did this, he didn't let go, his mouth locking onto hers as his hands tangled in her hair. He hungrily accepted what she offered, allowing her to remove his shirt as he did the same with her robe and underwear.
He was eager for her as he rolled over and cast the remnants of their clothes away. He hadn't seen her for nearly three weeks, since the funeral in Paris and he had found himself growing ever more impatient for her touch as the weeks wore on. The way she teasingly ran away only served to further increase his desire. On her part, she was also finding the need to be close to him increasingly frustrating as only he could make her feel the way she did. As he lay on top of her, her mind flashed back to a time over a year ago. How different her sentiments were. She remembered feeling his weight on top of her, feeling the way he used her without any regard for her feelings or the torment that this was causing her. She had lain there, unresponsive; hating herself and realising that she would not be able to fight him, no matter how hard she tried. He had stolen something that she could never get back and he would always have that power over her.
But that had been over a year ago, now, she was unsure where things lay. He never asked her to give him information anymore but she still remained with the insecurity over what would happen should she never go to him again. At this point, however, she didn't care; only concerned with being with him as he rocked her back and forth beneath him.
Afterwards, he held her close to him; kissing her face and caressing her slender frame with such tenderness she would have never thought possible a year or so ago. She too responded with feeling, running her hands whimsically through his hair, in a way she never imagined she would.
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