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Dragoness by jenrabbit
Chapter 59 : And That Which We Are
 
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Apologies in abundance, but hey, a couple of weeks is far better than several months.
Anywhoo, as real-life pressures increase, and the holiday induced stress-season bears down, I find my writing becoming more and more important in maintaining my inner peace.
BTW, why are you still reading this, don't you have a chapter to read or sumthin...




 







            “He was put under and a cocktail of creature marrow was put into his bones, werewolf, dragon, sphinx, unicorn, griffin, maybe even vampire, goblin, and merfolk.”

            “Say that again”

            Hermione shot her Mate a look of deepest disgust, “In a surprisingly disgusting move, Nott senior, and/or Voldemort put Theo under the knife and surgically inserted extracts of at least a half dozen different species in his bones.” She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child, Malfoy was not amused.

            They were in the Head’s Common Room, Blaise, Michael, and Anthony sprawled on the leather couches around them, Jason was curled against Hermione’s side, squished into her wide, leather armchair comfortably.

            Nott was sitting at one of the two massive desks industriously plodding through the worksheet Hermione had drawn up for him; life-altering revelations were no excuse for slovenly work.

            Hermione glanced at her unlikely Brother, already the Dragon in her called that she love him, the same as her other Brother’s, the human in her balked at the idea of loving a boy who had insulted her so vilely. “He needs us Draco, he’s alone and confused, a living experiment, no one should be used as a lab rat, and they certainly shouldn’t go through whatever hell he’s been through alone.”

            Her Brothers blinked passively at her.

            Beside her Jason snored, bored by the talk he couldn’t understand.

            “I never said we shouldn’t help him, but what exactly are all the different Bloods in his veins doing? How much of a risk is he?”

            Across the room Nott stiffened, Hermione shot him a worried glance, and Draco a dirty look, “I don’t know, there are no documented cases of a transplant like this, at least not that I can find.” She was annoyed that the Library had seemingly failed her.

            “Have you checked our library up there?” Draco waved a lazy hand towards the Head’s library upstairs.

            “In passing, I haven’t combed it.”

            “You should, it has a knack of finding what you need.” Hermione eyed him strangely.

            “It’s a room, how can it have a knack of anything?” she was skeptical, at best.

            “Can’t you feel it?” Hermione jumped, she would have sworn Michael was asleep, sprawled as he was on her couch, there would be dusty footprints to wipe away later; the fool hadn’t bothered to remove his shoes.

            “What?” she was still distracted by his disrespect for her furniture, she didn’t even notice her little cousin drooling on the arm of her chair, dangerously close to her hand.

            Draco shook his head, “The whole Castle’s alive to an extent, several centuries’ worth of magic has sunk into the foundation, the grounds, even the lake is tainted, to an extent.”

            Hermione furrowed her brows, “you mean like funny rooms popping up, and the staircases changing, and the suits of armor talking, right?”

            “Yeah, the magic has sunk into those to, but this tower is one of the oldest in the fortress, so the very brickwork’s saturated.”

            “Okaaay” Hermione drew the word out, tasting it carefully, as if she wasn’t sure it was worth voicing.     

            “Therefore” Draco was in full professor-mode now, “the castle is as aware of those who walk its halls as most of the people here, probably more so. Gaia lives because the castle lives, the philosophers stone first year was protected by the castle as much as by the teachers, how else would those passages have formed…” he trailed ff, watching the cogs spin in Hermione’s head.

            “So that’s how we end up with trick stairs that only let certain people step on them without falling through, why some of the books scream when the wrong person pulls them from the shelves, why there are hidden passages, and doors that open to walls and-”

            “Exactly” Blaise cut her off, he knew they’d be there all night if she was allowed to continue. “So what he’s saying is, if you want to find something, and I mean really need to find something, then the Head’s Library will probably help you.”

            Hermione nodded, and leapt to her feet, Jason grumbled in his sleep and spread to take up the rest of the chair.

            “Where are you going?” the boys had been lazing, droning somewhere between awake and asleep, her sudden movement startled the sleep from them        

            “To the library of course.” Hermione shot over her shoulder, whirling up the stairs and into the book-filled room.

            Once there she closed her eyes. My Brother needs your help. My Court needs your help. My Mate needs your help….I need your help.

            Around her something moved, pressures shifted, power surged around her, and slowly, Hermione opened her flaming eyes. Trusting the Castle and its magic-soaked stones, Hermione strode towards the middle aisle, stopped, spun, and headed directly for a distant curve of the room.

            The rows upon rows of bookshelves were not orderly, the neat aisles somehow twisted into a maze without ever curving, the room was far larger than physical dimensions allowed.

            The hair on the back of Hermione’s neck prickled.

            Here was real magic, unbidden, and uncontrollable, a help or a hindrance, the very stones beneath her feet could choose to swallow her whole, and none would be the wiser.

            Something tickled in the back of her brain, the barest gossamer thread of an idea, she ignored it. Such fragile schemes could only be cultivated in the dark unawareness behind her eyes, the thought would be gone if she chose to examine it now.

            So she left it, instead stopping, running one small hand along the spines of the books. One caught her finger, a frayed thread from a silk-bound spine hinged painfully on a single roughened fingernail.   

            Hermione pulled the book from the shelf.

            The Theory of Human Hybrids: Chimera, Dragons, and other Hybrids-By-Choice

            Hermione closed her eyes Thank you, for all of us.

            Book under her arm, Hermione left the library.

            Before she left, she couldn’t help but notice a certain, almost, smug-sense the massive in thick silence that shrouded the room.

           

            Hermione returned down to the Common Room mere minutes after her departure, minutes that had been fraught with a tense silence.

            The Brothers it seemed, did not have Hermione’s immediate instinct to protect and aid Nott, silently they all stared anywhere but at each other, until Hermione bounded in and shattered the quiet.

            “This could help” she was oddly out of breath, the magic-steeped library had left her feeling strange, like she was on the verge of some great discovery, but had to leave her work before it was finished.

            Nonsense, this is your work.

            “What is it?” Draco was jerked from his reverie by her sudden reappearance.

            Hermione surrendered the ancient tome, and went to check if Theodore needed help, he did, as it was, and their low voices hummed in the background as the others poured over the yellowing pages.

            By the time the two returned to the circle of couches, Nott’s work finally done, the boys had flipped to the correct chapter, and were muttering amongst themselves. “Listen to this.” Blaise murmured, pointing to a section on the opposite page-

 

             Of all the experiments conducted upon humans themselves, the act of creating a chimera is among the most heinous, often ranking with necromancy, and other Dark Artes.

            There are two ways in which to create a human chimera, the first being to physically twist a beings person, to alter the genes, or fuse the organs until the patient is neither human, nor animal, but somewhere in between.

            These creations are often, if not always, wild and ungovernable, their thoughts are no longer complex, but rather beastlike, their instincts rule their lives. More often than not these are put down, as they serve no great use, some, who do not have the stomach to kill their creations, release them into the wild, where they will continue to terrorize the local wildlife, and live a hideous half-life.

            The second type of human chimera is a human who receives a bone marrow transplant from another species.

            Muggles would be killed or driven mad by the Operation, but the magic in a wizard’s veins burns away the madness, leaving only the strengths, and instincts of whatever species was a marrow donor.

            The most common magical donor is Dragon, as our kind has long had a fascination with the Beasts, with all their ancient cunning. The recipients of such Blood are quicker tempered, and likely to bond strongly with those who have had similar operations, in rare occurrences such a group of individuals will draw together to form a Dragon’s Court.

            For more information on The Court, see chapter six (Chimera’s and their Societies).

            Other transfusions, of Griffin marrow, or Vampire marrow are not unheard of, though they are far rarer than the Dragon’s Blood Operation.

            Rarer still is a mix of marrows, a blending of various species in an individual. Such cases are virtually unheard of, and very poorly recorded, as the individuals both administering the Operation, and receiving it often either have a death wish, or mad, or both.

            What little is known is that these beings are volatile, are will often go crazy as their inherent natures battle, and the strongest Blood burns the others away.

 

            The Common Room was silent for a long minute, the tangible quiet broken only by the low crackling of the fire in the fireplace.

            “No.” His voice stopped the collective train of thought dead. “I’m not mental.”

            The Blood Siblings looked at him wordlessly, their orange eyes flaming in the firelight.

            “I refuse to accept this.” His voice shook slightly as he straightened from where he had been leaning over the back of the chair reading over Anthony’s shoulder. “I won’t” his voice rose a panicked few octaves.

            Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Draco beat her to it, “No,” he spoke with all the solemn force of The Lord of the Court, “No, and we won’t accept it either.”  






Okaay, So, how's life? 
Mine's good, busy, but good.
Junior year in highschool sucks, but I'll get over it, and maybe even finish this painfully drawn out project before  graduate.
Encouragment to do so would be much appreciated.
hinthint
kisses
Jeni


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