The Gloriana Set

The Entrance Gate

Hello everyone:

This is a shorter chapter, quite Gothic. "The Gloriana Set" is very much a Gothic story, with its ancient castle, threatening blood messages, star-crossed lovers and all that melodrama. There's even a beautiful blond Damsel in Distress. Like the scene in Borgin's shop, the first scene in Slughorn's office and, of course, the Slytherin party, this chapter is heavy on setting and mood.

Gates, of course, are boundaries, usually either trapping someone within or offering sanctuary from without. Neither seems to apply in Draco's case since he has chosen to return to a place that surely hates him. In ancient times, gates were where kings sat in judgment and it remains to be seen who Draco's toughest judge will be.

Enjoy.

Love, Thebe

Hogwarts' grounds were shadowed, a half moon weaving between shreds of clouds. Hermione didn't dare light her wand, so she brought Crookshanks. "Lead me to the front gate, Crooky," she whispered after they slipped through the castle's huge doors.

The bushy orange cat set off on a winding path around the lake, then through the trees. The only sounds were the creaking of branches in the wind and the swishing of fallen leaves under her boots. It was very cold, and her breath puffed small and grey.

The black stone posts of Hogwarts' entrance gate loomed suddenly before her, and Hermione stumbled backward, the hood of her heavy cloak slipping off her head. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds and its light traced the winged shapes of the gate's stone boars.

The moon also revealed a dark shape lying huddled just within the closed gates on the Hogwarts side. Hermione stepped closer, no longer needing the cat. Her steps crunched loudly on the graveled path, but the shape remained unmoving. She drew her wand, wondering what she would find. Was he injured?

Hermione knelt on the cold ground, heedless of the damp seeping through her pajama pants. He was curled into a ball, wrapped in his cloak, hood drawn over that bright hair. She touched his shoulder and his body shuddered and curled more tightly.

"Draco," she said softly. "Draco. I'm here." No response.

Hermione shuffled closer and gently peeled the hood away from his face, revealing pale skin and hair. She laid a hand on his cheek and it was icy cold and damp with tears. His eyes were closed.

"She's in that place." Draco's voice was thin and wavery. "We took her to that place. She's there all alone." He swallowed noisily. "They wouldn't let me stay."

Hermione said nothing, just pulled a red handkerchief out of the tip of her wand and wiped Draco's face. Then she pressed her fingers against his cold cheek.

Draco shuddered again. "No," he said hoarsely, eyes still closed. "You shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have called you."

"You were right to call me," Hermione said.

An icy, trembling hand touched her fingers, then withdrew. "You're so warm." His eyes fluttered, but dark lashes shuttered his gaze. "My mother was warm once. My father leached it all out of her. He ruined her." Draco's cheeks were wet again. "I'll ruin you."

"Nonsense," Hermione said in her bossiest tone. "You're not ruining anyone. You can't even keep me from meeting vampires. What makes you think you could mess me up?"

"But ... but ..." now Draco looked up, pale eyes shining watery in the faint moonlight. "You love me."

Hermine sniffed. "Aren't we full of ourselves."