And where two raging fires meet

Where Two Raging Fires Meet - Chapter 1 - RZZMG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

and where two raging fires meet

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works. By David G. Anderson. This season represents the Utah Shakespeare Festival's tenth production of The Taming of the Shrew, dating back to season one (). William Shakespeare — 'And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.'.

A terrible dread fills her. What if he starts ripping into it, tearing the pages and breaking the spine? What if he casts an Incendio on it, burning it to ash? She is about to go roaring down the aisle, a Petrification spell upon her lips just in case, when Malfoy does something completely unexpected: Why would Malfoy be reading such a thing, and more importantly, does he even comprehend its meaning?

Is there a hidden message here about Harry leading her side astray in the coming fight, or is this just Malfoy playing a lark upon her, one she doesn't yet comprehend? Well, she figures, there is one way to find out. With perfect recall, she recites the remainder of the line: Mafoy's slate-grey eyes narrow and slant her way.

Quote by William Shakespeare: “And where two raging fires meet together, they ”

He looks very much like a viper considering its prey for the right time to strike. Raising her chin again, Hermione gives him no chance to land his intended bite. She finishes the paragraph: With a snap, her rival closes the book and puts it back on the shelf. It's about that time, isn't it? You'd be doing the world a favour! This time, Hermione does not follow him, taking a minute longer to wonder about tonight's odd confrontation with Slytherin's prince.

She leaves the library that night with no more answers than when she'd earlier stepped in. She is, however, thirty seconds behind Madam Pince out the door before it closes and locks for the evening.

Mid-November, For the first time since fourth year, when she'd exhausted herself trying to support Harry all through the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Hermione has decided to call it a night early. She closes her books and packs them into her satchel, preparing to leave the library despite the fact there's still thirty-five minutes until closing.

Hiding a yawn behind her hand, she slings her bag over her shoulder and starts to head out… …only to walk past Malfoy on his way in. One suspicious, sideways look from him, and she pauses, turning her head to watch him make his way back to the Muggle Literature section again. As he takes the same aisle as the last time, he flips a glance at her from his peripheral vision, and this time flashes a nasty smirk before disappearing from sight.

That hollow feeling in her gut returns, and she silently berates herself for not having the foresight to have told Madam Pince about the value of that Shakespearean tome. What if, in the intervening weeks since their last run-in, Malfoy has discovered its unique worth? What if he steals it or decides to use it as leverage to win something in exchange for its safety? Dropping her satchel on her recently vacated table, she grabs her wand and heads to the back of the room, tracing his steps.

Just as she suspected, he has the First Folio in his hands again, and this time, he's flipped to somewhere near the front of the book.

and where two raging fires meet

He's been angry since his father's arrest at Halloween for what the Prophet dubbed the Samhain Sweeps, when the new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, had sanctioned the Auror's office to raid the homes of former Death Eaters and those suspected of the titleseeking dark artefacts.

It had been a response to increasing public demand that something be done to stem the sudden wave of objects of dark magic that had appeared on the black market since the year's start. Several such pieces had been found in Lucius Malfoy's home during the raids, of course. The man had insisted they'd been family heirlooms, kept strictly for sentimental reasons.

Scrimgeour hadn't bought that fanciful tale, though, and had trussed Draco's father up and hauled him into one of the cells beneath the courtrooms to await his turn for trial.

Draco and his mother had been humiliated in the papers as a result, and he'd been toting around a dark cloud over his shoulders ever since. Undaunted by her rebuttal, however, he licked his thumb and flipped through the book, finding a particular passage he liked.

and where two raging fires meet

Her wand taps against her outer thigh, letting him know she is becoming irritated with both this ridiculous shenanigan and with his reckless implications.

Hermione's immediately suspect, of course. She follows him through the Entrance Hall and up the stairs, keeping a discreet distance, nattering at him the whole way. It could cost you the House cup come June, though. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if that were to happen. She's a bit out of breath trying to keep up with his longer-legged, faster stride, but she does manage to keep up — and to toss him a decent glare to boot.

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He still says nothing, but turns to go into the fourth floor corridor, heading towards the library. Hermione hurries to catch up, curiosity egging her on. The reference centre is somewhat busy for a Thursday night, with a dozen heads bent over parchment and page, but there are still plenty of empty desks and study nooks indicating that not everyone in the school takes their lessons as seriously as they should.

It vexes Hermione to some small degree, to be honest, as she's been expecting hoping, really to find more of her fellow seventh years in the library this term.

“And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”

Behind the front desk, Madam Pince gives her and Malfoy the stink eye as they enter at such a late hour, and abruptly reminds them that it's nearly time to close up by calling out the ten minute warning. Hermione nods to the Librarian before turning to follow her quarry deeper into the room. They bypass students who are hurriedly packing up their books and putting away their inkpots, heading towards the back left corner of the room. Wherever could he be leading her?

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To her wonder, Malfoy stops near the end of an aisle marked 'Muggle Literature' and reaches out to take down a book from the middle of a shelf. Instantly, Hermione recognises the red leather-bound classic. She's traced the stylish, gold-etched diamond design on the cover and the spine's calligraphy many a time herself, and she's carefully turned its ancient pages, aware all the time of the edition's true value.

It's the First Folio — the true originally collected print of William Shakespeare's works unlike the second copy at Oxford, which Muggle historians incorrectly believe to be the first print ever made of the edition … …and it's in Draco Malfoy's hateful, bigoted hands.

A terrible dread fills her. What if he starts ripping into it, tearing the pages and breaking the spine? What if he casts an Incendio on it, burning it to ash? She is about to go roaring down the aisle, a Petrification spell upon her lips just in case, when Malfoy does something completely unexpected: I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle Why would Malfoy be reading such a thing, and more importantly, does he even comprehend its meaning?

Is there a hidden message here, or is this just him playing a lark upon her, one she doesn't yet comprehend?

and where two raging fires meet

Well, she figures, there is one way to find out. With perfect recall, she recites the remainder of the line: There, pick up on that allusion, you git! Mafoy's slate-grey eyes narrow and slant her way. He looks very much like a viper considering its prey for the right time to strike. Raising her chin again, Hermione gives him no chance to land his intended bite. She finishes the paragraph: It's about that time, isn't it?