In the days that followed, Draco had devised the rest of his plan. He'd done this before, so many times that it was difficult to remember each girl. But something about his obsession with Hermione made him nervous. And on the night his plan unfurled, he lay awake in the silence of his room.
This room was empty except for himself. The embers of his personal fire slowly died out, whispering to him as they faded. The moon shone through his bedroom window, mocking his loneliness. He could hear the incessant ticking of the clock. Each tick louder than the previous one. Each sound more booming than the last.
His father had gone out of his way to ensure that Draco had his privacy while attending Hogwarts. However, Draco never doubted for a second that his reasons for doing so were less than fatherly love. It was too much of a risk for Draco to share a room with anyone who could possibly discover proof of his father's true nature. Even Crabbe and Goyle were not to be trusted.It was in this lonely seclusion that Draco learned to despise his father for everything he had put him through, and for everything his father expected of him. And it was in this lonely seclusion that Draco turned to stalking unwilling girls and where he fabricated his every move to every girl he'd after watched. It was in this lonely seclusion that Draco worried tonight.
The sounds, the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing pain in his cold heart, it all became too much, Draco got out of bed and lit a candle on his bedside table. As it flickered to life, it brought an eerie air to the room. A solitary candle lighting a dead room. He wanted more than anything to drape his invisiblily cloak around him and see the warmth of Hermione. To watch her, to hear her lovely voice. It was more than a desire, it was a need. And when the need took over him completely, he rumaged through his armoire for the silverly cloak. But as he pulled it from the spot where it was so carelessly tossed, a sqeaky little elf appeared at his side.
"It's about time. I told you to be back before midnight. Now, exactly what does the clock on the wall say?" Draco hissed.
"It says 1:07, yes it does," the elf squeaked. "I is sorry master, but it is taking longer than I thought. I go to that boys room for sleeping and I wait. Red haired boy was not alone. And bushy haired girl and red haired boy took very long time to go to sleep. I is truely sorry master!"
"Bushy haired girl? What the hell are you talking about? She was in his bed!?!" he screamed. "Oh the little slut!"
Draco kicked the trembling elf carelessly out of the way. He went to sit at his massive desk where the candle was lightly shining, the expensive mahogany reflecting the candle. "Did you at least get what I asked you for?" he snapped.
The shakey elf removed a vial from a pouch that hung from a string draped around his waste. He handed it to Draco and stood in silence.
"Well, get the hell out of my room!" Draco boomed and the elf scurried from the room. Draco held the vial up to the light of the candle and looked at the several red hairs that resided inside.
With a swish of his invisibilty cloak, he crept from his lonely room.
* * *
The sun batted its lashes at the Hogwarts castle, drifting carelessly into the school through the windows. The morning air was crisp, and the dewy grass glistened in the soft sun. Morning birds chirped quietly from the branches they were perched on.
Hermione awoke to this morning scene, gazing through a crack in Ron's bed hangings. Her head was lazily resting on Ron's shoulder. From here, she could see that Ron's watch, which was resting on his nightstand, read 6:07. She knew she had to go soon, or she would be cought by a teacher. It had been several nights since she had slept in her own bed, both because she was scared of going back to her own room, and because she enjoyed being with Ron. She hoped he felt the same way.
In an effort to wake him, she kissed his cheek softly and shook him gingerly.
"Morning," she whispered.
"Morning," he replied, kissing her on the cheek in return.
"I've got to go now," she mumbled. "I'll meet you at breakfast."
The two shared on last kiss and then Hermione slipped on Harry's invisibilty cloak, which he'd loaned to her again and left.
She had memorized each step from Ron's room to her own. She could make the trip in the dark, as not to wake anyone. So her feet took her back to her own room, all the while she was stuck in her own world. She absentmindedly wandered back into her dorm and up into her room. What she saw jerked her firmly back into reality.
At first she thought they were some kind of insect, but they weren't. Silky black specs covered her entire bed. They were rose petals, black ones. As she stood there in confusion and stared, the shutter on her window blew open. The gust of wind sent the rose petals fluttering through the air. The beautiful sight soon changed, as the rose petals grew flapping wings, which soon became covered in thick, black hair. They had changed to this strange fairy like creature with too many arms and legs. They were doxies.
She knew doxies were mildly poisonous. A state of familiar panic sent through her body, the kind that happened when she knew she was in danger. Her hand automatically went for her pocket, only to find it empty. She had left her wand in Ron's bed. She turned to run from her room, but she felt the swarm close in on her, sharp pains all over her body. Soon the room was going hazy, the colors blurred together. She was surrounded by a hurricaine of the grey of the stone walls around her, the scarlett of the velvety quilt on her bed, the mahogany of her bed posts, until it went completely black and she was forced into a strange dream like state.
As soon as the doxies had seen Hermione slump to the floor, the swarm buzzed to the window and left, as if nothing had happened at all.