The Greatest Love, The Highest Sacrifice

Chapter 4 -- Leaves of Grass

There are more reasons for a truce than just expediency.

Anonymous

Norri had thought that with so many things happening in the first week, with Sirius' unexpected appearance and her own disastrous beginning in Potions, that the term would crawl by more painfully than any she had yet experienced at Hogwarts. But as the term got underway, a little like the Hogwarts Express slowly creaking to a steady pace and then flying through the English countryside, she soon had so much work to do that she had little time to consider the events of the opening week of term. Twenty-seven and an Auror she might well be, but, as Elsie Norr, she had every bit as much work as any other seventh year at Hogwarts.

Muggle Studies proved to be more work than she had expected. She loved the literature course, and Professor Dumbledore was an unexpected gift to the small but enthusiastic class, but the work load was considerable. Added to the many readings she had for the course was their Poetry Assignment, which she had resolved to get out of the way as early in the year as possible.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time; but with the additional research she was doing for the Potions Assignment, and the readings for Care of Magical Creatures, the weeks flew past without any of the Hogwarts students even noticing them slip by. Tests were regular -- even in Professor Flitwick's classes! -- and the ever-dreaded NEWTS lingered over the horizon like a bad dream still to be confronted. So it was with considerable annoyance one afternoon during the fourth week of term that Norri noticed Draco advancing towards the nook she had found in the library. She had a presentation on Mariana the next day for Muggle Studies -- not her favourite Tennyson piece, but one she enjoyed -- and she did not like the idea of being interrupted.

"Hey, Norri," he said quietly, obviously not wanting to attract the attention of Madam Pince, who was not enamoured of the latest Malfoy to grace the grounds of Hogwarts.

"What?" she answered shortly, keeping her head in her book.

"I thought I was the one with the bad manners, and you were the patient half of our relationship," he quipped, obviously not bothered by her lack of enthusiasm.

"Well, I have an assignment on Mariana due tomorrow for Muggle Studies and I'm rather busy just now, so if you could bother me some other time?" she answered pointedly, putting down her book and staring at him in a manner she hoped was intimidating. To no avail.

"You call reading this being busy?" he said in tones of disgust, fingering her Poetry Anthology as if it would soil his hands.

"There's nothing wrong with Muggle poetry," she snapped, taking the book away from him and holding it against herself protectively.

"The question is if there's anything good about it," he answered, his eyes gleaming. Norri could tell he was spoiling for an argument of any kind; she'd been surprised at the fact that there had been no confrontations with Ron so far this term, but she should have known it would have to give at some stage.

"There's plenty of good -- if only that its nice to note Muggles are actually coming to terms with the fact that they've kept their women oppressed for centuries."

"Ah, yes, the budding feminist speaks. Which would be why you chose Mariana, right?"

"Yes, and its quite heavy going, so if you wouldn't mind...."

"Well," he continued, unperturbed by her obvious desire for him to leave, "I actually wanted to know if you would come and check on the egg with me. There's still a couple of hours until dinner, and we haven't been to see it at all this week."

Norri was about to open her mouth to give a resounding negative when she noticed that Draco appeared to be holding something back.

"And?" she asked dangerously.

He at least had the grace to look guilty.

"We were supposed to cast a communications spell this week -- you know, to help us deal with the egg more so that when the kit hatches it will recognise us and all. But I sort of got caught up with other subjects this week, and I was wondering..."

"...if I'd done this week's reading, even though its your turn to do them," she finished off for him with a sigh. "You do realise this will totally throw out my timetable, don't you."

He didn't look worried at all. "You're a good student, you'll manage," he replied calmly.

Norri felt an increasingly strong urge to box his ears. "Honestly, Draco, when am I going to do my assignment?!"

He grinned at her, turning on the charm and knowing she hated every second of it. "Tell you what," he cajoled, "come and check on the egg with me, and I'll talk you through Mariana on the way back to the castle."

"What about on the way there?" she asked, resignedly picking up her things and not considering the high probability that he didn't have a clue what Mariana was about.

"Well, you have to fill me in on the week's readings before we get to the egg, don't you?" came the infuriating -- but correct -- reply.

*

The walk down to the dragon field was brief, and it passed quickly as Norri explained the week's readings to Draco. He listened attentively, and Norri wondered with a fleeting sense of frustration why he hadn't done them himself if he found them so interesting. But there was little point in taking him to task -- mainly because it would make no difference to his behaviour, and probably only serve to make him more difficult to handle than usual -- so she held her tongue and said nothing. But he would definitely be doing next week's assignment, and she would brook no excuses whatsoever.

When they reached the dragon field, Draco pulled up suddenly, and Norri looked up from her notes to see that Cináed had curled himself around the nest. She looked at Draco, and was surprised to see that he had paled several shades.

"What's wrong with you?"

"He doesn't like me," Draco answered shortly.

"That's ridiculous, Draco, you're dragonkinde."

"As far as that particular dragon's concerned I'm his next meal. I'm telling you -- and I'm not exaggerating -- he doesn't like me."

Norri grimaced. "O.K. Give me a few minutes to organise a truce, will you?"

The boy nodded, although his look suggested that he doubted she would have any success. Dumping her bags by Draco's side, Norri headed over to the dragon nest alone. Although his eyes had been closed, Cináed must have sensed her presence, for he turned in her direction and whined a distinctive greeting. Norri noted with interest, and a certain surprise, that when Cináed's eyes lighted on Draco he tensed considerably, and a low growl emanated from his throat.

"Hey," she said softly as she reached him, butting his nose in greeting. He nuzzled her hair in return, but his eyes were still on Draco.

"Cináed!" Norri said impatiently. "What's wrong with you?! He's a seventh year, not a Death Eater!"

Cináed looked at her intently, and Norri winced as the force of his reply echoed in her mind.

"Oh, come on, Cináed! Just because he's a Malfoy doesn't mean he's evil." She grimaced at his response. "Cináed, he's nothing like Justin -- and I'm the one who should know, aren't I? Seriously, he's coming over here so that we can work with our egg. He's been wonderful with it -- I wouldn't be at all surprised if he ends up looking after the kit on a permanent basis. And he really respects Charlie. He's not your typical Malfoy."

Cináed's expression changed slowly from one of doubt to a reluctant acceptance. But his eyes had brightened at the mention of the kit, and he asked with interest what the two were planning to call the hatchling.

"I'm not sure. To be honest, I haven't really thought about it yet. And I have no idea if Draco has even considered it or not." She looked over to where Draco stood, and realised from the twilight sky that they didn't have much time until dinner. "Now, I'm going to call him over, and I want you to be nice, O.K.? I have big plans for this boy, and they include you being on a good footing with him."

As she turned and waved for Draco to join her, Cináed asked Norri what she had meant by her comment. The response appeared to amuse him, and when Draco reached the two, Cináed responded to his tentative greeting with a magnanimous gesture of the head. Then the enormous dragon turned and looked at Norri, who promptly burst out laughing.

"What?" asked Draco, thinking he had done something wrong.

"He says you look cut out to be a decent fire tamer. Don't worry," she continued at his uncomprehending expression, "it's a personal joke you'll get some day."

"You talk to him?!" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied easily, then started guiltily as she realised that she had given away a very closed secret. "Don't tell anyone, O.K.? Its probably better if they don't know."

"None of the others know?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Harry, Ron, Hermione? Not even Ginny?!"

"Nope, none of them. Only Professor Dumbledore, Professor Weasley -- and you."

One of Draco's habitual expressions -- the one of satisfaction at holding another person at his mercy -- crossed temporarily over his face, but the n it was replaced by something else, something that Norri thought resembled honoured pride.

"O.K." he said casually, "your secret's safe with me."

The next moment, Draco and Norri both started back as Cináed rose on all fours with a rumble. Draco tensed as the huge dragon drew himself up to full height, then stared as Cináed lowered his head until it rested in front of Draco's feet. He turned to Norri, who was also staring, for some kind of explanation. Her voice was awed as she gave it.

"Cináed's just given you his honour-mark. It's an act dragons only make to humans they have great respect for. It means that if he can ever protect or help you, even at the risk of his own life, he will."

Draco's own awe was evident, though not for precisely the same reasons as Norri. "He must really respect you to have done that because I'm keeping your secret," he said to her.

Norri ducked her head.

"Speaking dragon, or rather, understanding it, is about as rare as being a parseltongue -- and it's just as dangerous in many ways. If it was common knowledge, I'd be a target for every dragon trader from here to the Middle East, and then some! Besides, Cináed and I used to be very close, before things were different. Back when..." she dropped off suddenly, aware of the questions in Draco's eyes and the warning in Cináed's. Leaning over, she stroked the dragon's head. "We'll be here for a while, and then Charlie -- Professor Weasley -- will be out, so if you want to go hunting..."

Cináed nodded. He nuzzled her hair again, and then bowed to Draco, who bowed back as if he had been born to it. 'Probably has been,' thought Norri to herself. Then the dragon sprung into the air, and his heavy wingbeats quickly took him out of sight. As he disappeared over the treetops, Draco turned back to Norri.

"Charlie, hey?" he asked nonchalantly, although his tone was far from casual.

Norri shifted where she stood. "Guess I'm used to thinking of him as Ginny's big brother rather than as my professor." Her answer lacked conviction, and they both knew it. But before Norri could come up with a more convincing explanation, Draco spoke again.

Leaning over, he tugged her ponytail of brown hair -- the way she always wore it at school. "There's more to you than meets the eye, Elise Norr. But I'm not doing any pushing here; you can tell me if and when you're ready." His grey eyes were more serious than Norri had ever seen them, but she couldn't help wondering why he was being so considerate.

"Draco, why all this trust and understanding? It's not that I don't appreciate it or anything -- on the contrary -- but you've got to admit that its not exactly in keeping with your normal character."

Draco shifted where he stood, still only a hand's breadth away from her. "Well, maybe that's why. I mean, I've never given you any reason to trust me, and yet you do -- implicitly. Trust like yours...well, it kind of affects a person."

'That was the general idea,' thought Norri to herself happily, but all she said to Draco was "Thank you" -- a thank you which she spoke with her heart in her throat, and which Draco realised said must more than just two words. The two of them then turned all their attentions to the egg, which must have sensed their presence in the same way Cináed had known of Norri's approach, for when they finally reached it, it was clicking mournfully to itself as if aware that it had been temporarily forgotten.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Norri cried remorsefully and picked it up carefully, holding it close and rocking gently from side to side. Draco leaned over and placed his hand on the egg, clicking as he did so, and soon it resumed a satisfied rhythm.

"It shouldn't be too much longer before they're ready to hatch," he noted, looking at the other eggs in the nest. Norri followed his gaze and agreed as she noticed how large they had grown in the past weeks. Their own egg was almost too big for her to hold now, and the faint green flecks had darkened to a mottled grey. Draco noticed that Norri was struggling a little with the size of the egg, and he wordlessly took it off her.

"Cináed said ours would probably hatch within the next week or two," Norri told him as she carefully handed the egg over. "Apparently our little fellow is quite advanced."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a dragon of mine," Draco replied, but the expression of honoured pride was back on his face as he rocked the egg gently where he stood. They began running through the instructions of their readings, and were fully engrossed in a communications spell when a call from the other side of the dragon field alerted them to the fact that someone else was approaching. Norri looked up, saw that it was Charlie Weasley, and pulled her hand away from the egg.

The spell they had been working on was quite intricate, and designed to give the egg some sense of who Norri and Draco were before it actually emerged as a hatchling. With Norri's withdrawal, the spell remained incomplete, and the egg whined in obvious annoyance. Norri clicked to it apologetically, but made no move to replace her hand again. On the contrary, she picked up her bag and began stuffing her notes inside it rapidly.

"What's up?" asked Draco.

"Nothing," she answered as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Oh, come on, Norri!"

"Nothing, I said! I just forgot something I had to do before dinner, and I don't want to be late. See you in the Hall." And with that she touched the egg briefly in farewell, and headed off.

*

Draco watched as she walked quickly towards the castle, stopping fleetingly to return Professor Weasley's greeting with the briefest of answers before continuing hurriedly. Draco noticed that Charlie Weasley looked after her for a little, and wondered what the older man thought of his student's unusual behaviour.

"She's strange," he muttered to the egg he was still holding, and was pleased to note that the egg's response, though grudgingly clicked, was definitely in the affirmative.

"Hey, Draco," Charlie said easily as he came up to the nest.

"Hey, Professor," Draco returned. "How's your day been?"

"Just fine, thanks. I've got no teaching on Saturdays, so I made a visit to my brothers in Hogsmeade. I would have forgotten about the nest if Cináed hadn't reminded me on the way home."

"You seal it up every night, sir?"

"Yes. More to give the eggs a sense of security than for any other reason. There's little chance that anyone would come to Hogwarts to steal anything, even dragon eggs."

Charlie waited for Draco to put his egg back in the nest before he paced around it several times, gesturing quickly with his wand as he did so. A brief flash of light sparked out and then white mist settled over the edges of the nest. Charlie looked at Draco in satisfaction, then pocketed his wand as the two of them started for the castle.

"Is it safe for us to leave them, sir?"

"Yes, the spell will deter any human thieves. And Cináed will make sure the odd dragon that might fly past won't be tempted to stop. He'll be back any minute now."

"Isn't it strange that Norri and Cináed knew each other from before, sir?" Draco asked. He was not surprised at Charlie's answer.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you must be mistaken. Miss Norr is definitely dragonkinde, but there's no way she could have ever met Cináed before this year. I met him in Rumania while he was with another wizard who had owned him since he was a hatchling, and I've never brought him home to England for a visit. You must have your wires crossed."

"Oh, my mistake sir," Draco answered calmly, though his mind was racing, he knew Charlie was wrong, though the simplicity and conviction of his answer precluded Draco's usual assumption that he had been lying. Besides, it wasn't in a Weasley to lie so smoothly -- they were too Gryffindor for that. There was obviously some other explanation, and Draco knew that it lay with Norri. He wondered in passing why Charlie didn't call Norri by the nickname all the students and almost all the teachers used when addressing her. But he was sure Norri would have the answer for that too. So he said nothing more to Charlie, instead chatting easily for the rest of the walk to the castle about the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

*

On reaching the Great Hall, Draco's eyes searched the Gryffindor table until they lighted on Norri -- and the firehead sitting next to her. He shook his head abruptly; Ginny Weasley was not his interest right now, and he wasn't about to let himself consider why not. Refocusing on Norri, he noted that she had seen him, and returned her acknowledging nod with one of his own. He then let his eyes flicker to where Charlie Weasley sat at the High Table and was satisfied to see that she followed his gaze.

Norri's eyes seemed to rivet themselves on Charlie, and Draco puzzled over what her expression could mean. Regret? Not really a viable option, although it certainly appeared that she felt it. Heartache? He'd thought that she'd been attracted to Snape, especially after what had happened in the first week of term. But since then, she had said nothing and Snape had not indicated that anything had changed between them either. So maybe he'd been wrong. Which would mean finding out the truth in his own uniquely effective -- and amoral -- manner.

"And the truth?" he murmured to himself. "Will be as it always is;: rarely pure and never simple."

"What was that you said about 'simple', Draco Malfoy?" snapped Pansy Parkinson from behind him.

"I was just considering the nature of women, Pansy; rarely pure and never simple," Draco returned with perfect sang-froid.

Not surprisingly, Pansy did not quite know how to take this statement. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, Draco," she said petulantly, obviously annoyed that he was talking over her head again.

"Then just take it as one," he replied, giving her a little bow and catching Norri and Ginny watching him in the process. Norri's eyebrow was arched in obvious disdain, and Draco observed with a curious satisfaction that Ginny was far from pleased by the direction of his attentions. Which only served to increase his punctilious behaviour towards Pansy, who could not understand how she had suddenly managed to attract Draco's notice so effectively.

Unfortunately for Pansy, with the departure of Norri and Ginny, Draco's interest in her promptly disappeared, especially when he learnt that the two girls were going off to study in the library. He quickly extricated himself from Pansy's company with the plea that he needed someone to help him with an especially boring Arithmancy assignment. Minutes later, Draco was successfully alone, and scouring the library for Norri...and Ginny.

He found them by the "Muggle Studies -- Literature" section. They both had their poetry anthologies open on the desk, and were huddled over them together, laughing quietly at something Ginny appeared to have said. In a flash, Draco remembered Norri's assignment and the promise he had made her several hours earlier. 'Cinch,' he thought to himself.

"Hey girls," he said quietly as he walked up to their desk. He smiled lazily at Ginny's quickly assumed aloofness, and then genuinely grinned when he saw how obviously frustrated Norri was by his presence.

"Draco, I cannot help with Arithmancy, or Care of Magical Creatures, or any other subject right now! In the probable event that you've forgotten from before, I had an assignment due tomorrow."

"On the contrary my dear girl," he replied with asperity as he pulled up an extra seat, "that's precisely why I'm here. I promised to help you with Mariana in return for our dragon visit, and I never renege on my promises."

Ginny snorted in evident derision of his promises. "And what would you know about Mariana, Draco Malfoy?" she asked haughtily.

"Well, apart from the fact that it's Norri's assignment and not yours" -- Draco watched with gratification as Ginny's face deepened to shade more fitting her hair than her cheeks -- "I have to admit that I'm a Shakespeare man personally, but Tennyson's decent enough. Though I prefer The Lady of Shallot and Ulysses myself, especially Ulysses."

Ginny was rather taken aback by the fact that he did appear to know what he was talking about, and even more so because the opinions that he expressed so confidently precisely matched her own. Her surprise was such that it prevented her from making any semblance of a comeback. But Norri rose to his answer immediately. "Yes, well, I suppose you would prefer the adage: 'To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield' rather than an examination of the desertion of women in the Victorian era, wouldn't you?" she asked only half-jokingly.

He looked at her intently as he shot back, "No, my preferred line is actually: 'a people / That hoard, and feed, and sleep, and know not me'."

Ginny and Norri both looked at him then, for the passion within his quotation struck each of them forcibly. Ginny nodded in sympathy, but as Norri moved to make space for his chair, she leaned over and said something quietly, so quietly that not even her best friend heard it. "I know exactly what you mean."