Chapter 6 – Listen to me carefully

"Shove off or I swear you will regret it."

Hermione was motionless for a moment. Malfoy was still kneeling on the floor, his back turned to her, head raised and almost shaking in fury.

Hermione didn't understand this anger. But she slowly backed out of the room and closed the door.

For a few moments she remained in front of his room and listened. There was no sound to be heard.

She had to admit to herself that she had secretly hoped he finally stopped calling her Mudblood, but this wish he probably would never satisfy. He was still him and Hermione didn't care much about it anyway. She hadn't anticipated finding him trembling from rage which had already hit her harder than previous insults. But at this moment instead of being hurt her sympathy simply dominated.

Malfoy stayed in his room for the whole day and Hermione, Harry and Ron were just fine with it.

"The wedding is on the 25th of August. Did I tell you that?" Ron asked after lunch.

Harry and Hermione shook their heads. They were all looking forward to the big celebration next month, where they would finally meet Lupin, Moody and all the others again.

"Well, Mum had originally wanted to celebrate at the Burrow, but Fleur's family didn't. And we found the idea to celebrate in France not too bad."

"In France?" Hermione called excitedly.

"Yeah, near… Orlions or something like that."

"Orléans?"

"Yeah, exactly. Anyway, we thought that it would be safer there and that we could leave everything behind us for a few days," Ron continued. "Of course not everybody. Only the family and you will stay there. I think three days."

"That's wonderful!" Hermione said with sparkling eyes.

"How do we get there?" Harry asked.

"By a Portkey, I think. We Apparate home and use a Portkey from there."

"And who is coming?" Hermione asked.

"Well, several people of the Order, but a couple of them have to stay here, just to be safe. A few of Bill's work colleagues and all the French people," Ron explained, sounding as if he did not like the last bit.

"Is Percy coming too?" Harry wanted to know.

Ron's face darkened, when he said: "Bill went to him to invite him personally, but he rejected it! Can you believe that? Bill wanted to bring the family back together, but Percy, that – " Ron burst into a flood of nasty insults for his brother.

"Ron. Ron! We know, okay?" Hermione interrupted.

" – idiotic dragon dung- like – what? Yeah… uh… fine," Ron ended.

Over the course of the day they pondered about Regulus Black and the Horcruxes, but they simply couldn't come up with an idea that would be helpful.

Eventually Hermione suggested the only thing that came to her mind, which was to search for books with some useful information in the house.

Harry and Ron agreed with her and they decided to start with the search on the next day.

So they spent the day mostly together in the kitchen, talking about French food, Bills hairstyle on the wedding and about who would cry during the marriage ceremony.

They completely neglected Malfoy being upstairs in his room. They also forgot to think about what to do with him during the wedding.

In the evening Hermione was reading in her bed, waiting for Harry and Ron to come out of the bathroom. If she hadn't been Hermione, she would have probably heard one of them and later the other one leave the bath. But she was and soon she was so immersed in the book that she didn't notice the vacant bathroom.

It was not until half an hour later, when she looked at the clock. She sighed, put her book under the bed as always and silently walked into the bathroom.

When she had been here the first time, she had almost been afraid the toilet would transform into a monstrous mouth. But understandably the bathroom was the safest place in the house. The Blacks probably hadn't thought of decorating this room with Muggle- hating objects.

After a short shower Hermione noticed that she had forgotten to take a nightgown with her. She cursed under her breath, deciding to throw over Ron's bathrobe hanging on a hook, apparently forgotten and unused. It is probably unnecessary to mention that it was of maroon color.

When Hermione passed the staircase after leaving the bathroom, she decided quickly to get herself an apple. She walked down the stairs barefooted, crossed the hall, opened the kitchen door – and jerked to a halt.

She should have known. Malfoy hadn't come to the meals the whole day. Of course he would go into the kitchen, when all the others were sleeping.

He was sitting at the kitchen table und looked up from a steaming cup of tea. In front of him on the table there was an empty plate. At least he has fixed himself something, Hermione thought.

Malfoy's glance ran over the brown bathrobe and he scoffed grinningly: "Taken to Weasley's style, haven't you?"

"Shut up," Hermione replied coolly, crossing the kitchen to get an apple, head held high.

"And your hunger also seems to be as big as Weasley's, if you come sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night."

"What do you want?" Hermione asked angrily, examining him. He looked paler than usual and his eyes seemed glassy and tired.

He took a sip of his tea. He did it in a way only aristocratic Muggle or pureblood Slytherins would do. Even this movement seemed to ooze "I am better than your kind". Elegant, arrogant. Hermione snorted lightly.

He didn't seem to bother answering her question and since he wasn't saying anything and didn't insult her either, Hermione dared to ask: "Is everything alright?"

He scowled at once. It was like a shadow crawling over his face, making his eyes blazing even stronger.

I should have known better, Hermione thought, sighing.

"You are hopeless, Granger. Asking me, if everything is alright?" he said calmly.

"You are dumber than I thought. Is that the friendliness and helpfulness of the Gryffindors? Asking someone, who has lost his mother only hours ago, if everything was alright?" His voice was getting louder and he was speaking faster. Hermione just wanted to turn around and run away, since she had no idea what he was getting at and where this was going to end.

"You with your honky- dory- belief! Never has everything been alright! And now nothing is alright anymore! Nothing! How dare you even ask me about it?"

"I didn't mean to – "

"You know that not everything is alright!"

"I didn't mean everything! You know exactly that I hadn't meant it that way!"

"I don't care how you had meant it! You said it!"

"That's absolutely ridiculous! Everyone says it like that!" Hermione shouted angrily, wondering why on earth he wanted to argue about such a completely unimportant and needless subject. "I just wanted to know if you were alright!"

"Once again," Malfoy drawled dismissively. "It's obvious for everyone that I'm not alright, but Miss Hermione- I- am- this- sweet- Gryffindor- girl- Granger has to prove how caring she is."

Hermione stared at him, shaking her head, and said: "That's just what people do. Just because your manners are so bad, it doesn't mean that the rest of the world is behaving the same way."

Malfoy snorted. "Bad manners? Granger, you are impossible. I spent more time of my life learning good manners, etiquette and politeness than Potter, Weasley and you altogether!"

"Well that's not really apparent," Hermione replied, although she knew that he was right.

"It's not apparent to you," Malfoy corrected.

He continued to drink his tea.

In the meantime Hermione wondered if she had the heart to ask about his mother. He would probably not react very friendly, but now she at least had the opportunity.

She worked up all her Gryffindor- courage, cleared her throat and asked: "Why didn't your mother come with you?"

For a moment there was silence. For a moment Hermione thought he was relaxed and wouldn't throw insults at her. Which he didn't.

Instead he flung his tea cup in her direction. Malfoy, trained by Quidditch, threw with such force and precision that the cup would have hit Hermione on the forehead. But the girl ducked on time and heard the china crash against the wall. Hermione was so surprised by her own fast reaction that she only noticed a few moments later that Malfoy wasn't sitting on his chair anymore. His face was full of hatred and his body seemed to tremble.

"YOU DARE TALKING ABOUT HER?" he yelled. Hermione flinched, backing away from him. Suddenly she was afraid of him standing there like that. Tall, stronger than her and filled with this furious rage. With a shock it came to her mind that she didn't had her wand with her! But he wouldn't do anything to her! He wouldn't dare… would he? He was just upset… no reason to fear… what could happen anyway?

"How dare you soil her memory by speaking of her with your filthy Mudblood tongue? Don't you ever do that again! Don't to dare think about her or even say her name! YOU BLOODY MUDBLOOD ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR – "

"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed. "How can you say anything like that? How can you still think like that? That are exactly the thoughts Voldemort has!" She panted for breath, completely surprised by his reaction.

"When do you finally get it? To be on our side means to be against this blood mentality!"

"Who says that I am on your side?" Malfoy asked coldly.

Hermione felt her heart sink at once. He hadn't meant it like that. It was impossible and she knew that. He was no Death Eater anymore. He wasn't on Voldemort's side anymore. She was sure… she thought… she hoped.

"You… you… you are on our side… otherwise you would have killed me by now!"

"Honestly, Granger, you're lacking tactfulness. How did you even manage to brew a single potion?"

Hermione was confused and frightened and hoping that Ron or Harry would wake up and come to her aid. She felt extremely uncomfortable in her own skin.

"What d-do you mean?" she asked crestfallen.

"To be against the Dark Lord doesn't necessarily mean to be on your side," he said slowly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You mean… you… but you are here! You are helping us, aren't you? You are going to help us! That's why you came!"

"Primarily I came to be safe from the Dark Lord."

"But why didn't you take your mother with you?" Hermione registered too late what she had just said and clapped her hands over her mouth.

She felt so small, when he took a few steps towards her. Hermione tried to keep her spirits up. He didn't have a wand in his hand; he only wanted to intimidate her, to scare her. He wouldn't seriously harm her.

"I told you," he began with low and quivering voice, "I don't want to hear a word about her from your unworthy filthy mouth, Mudblood. You dare looking me in the eye, after your fault – "

"What are you talking about?" At the same time the words streamed out of her mouth Hermione wished, she wouldn't have said them. They only irritated him even more.

He was now standing in front of her, looking at her from above. His cold grey eyes flashed, when he spoke.

Since when am I afraid of Draco Malfoy!

"You alone, Mudblood, are responsible for something my mother didn't deserve. It is your damn fault that I left her behind." His voice was soaked with hatred, anger and bitterness, when he attacked her verbally.

Hermione opened her mouth and at the same moment she felt two strong hands, his hands, grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing her against the wall.

Now she was just feeling fear, which she didn't know where it was coming from. Fear and despair. He could also harm her without a wand and Harry and Ron hadn't waken up yet, so they wouldn't hear her, no matter how loudly she screamed.

She couldn't believe it. How could she have let herself get into this? How could she have had such an idea? No matter how civilized and pleasant he had seemed at the beginning, he was Malfoy after all. It had been just a matter of time that a situation like this would occur. You just couldn't predict when. His mood changed so fast that one could never know when it was better to run.

Hermione tried to let go of this thought. It was his mother's death which drove Malfoy to this behavior. It wasn't like he really wanted to harm her. But what the hell was he talking about? Why was it her fault that his mother hadn't come along?

"Don't you dare ask," he hissed.

"You don't get it. You are a Mudblood. Listen carefully, Mudblood. Your bloody reckless Muggle- parents in their pretty little house burdened our world with you, as well as countless stupid Muggles did with countless bloody Mudbloods. You think you could just come into a world you had never heard of before. You think you could take the jobs away from us, become head boy or girl, become teachers! You feel like witches and wizards, but you are not! You are nothing but Muggles who can control magic! No wizards! You are Mudbloods! You will never understand.

Our few pure wizard families have to fight more and more to be acknowledged, to be honored. From birth on we learn, increase our knowledge and skills. And then you come along, receive you Hogwarts- letter, are pleased by it and nullify everything we worked for!"

Hermione had rarely seen him that angry. His hissing set her teeth on edge.

She didn't want to listen anymore. She wanted to scream, run away, hide under her blanket.

But he gripped her tightly and continued with low voice.

"Even Weasley is above you. Even he is far better than the know-it-all Hermione Granger. It is unfortunate that one of the biggest pure blood- families today put themselves down to the same level as you. You are not worth it. Your blood is filthy. You read so much, but the real magic you will never understand. You will never feel it. You will always be below us. No matter how high your position in the Ministry might be, you will never belong to this world with every cell of your body. You will never feel the magic within you like real wizards do. For you will never be a real witch."

"Stop it," Hermione whispered. She couldn't understand, why he was saying all this. Did it have something to do with his mother? And why did she feel so bad about it?

She didn't know him well enough to notice that he was simply trying to lay the blame on someone else for something he held himself responsible for.

"You want me to stop?" Malfoy asked. A cold smiled flickered on his lips. "Why? Is it because you believe me? Because you know it is true? That you are tainted?"

"Stop it. Please! Stop it!" Hermione called. Her back hurt and felt cold. He was still pressing her against the hard wall and piercing his fingers into her shoulder.

"Get off me," Hermione demanded, banning the insecurity out of her voice as good as possible.

Much to her surprise he pulled back from her. He didn't say a single word anymore, turned around and left the kitchen with steady steps.

Hermione let herself slide down the wall, till she was sitting on the floor, leaning back. She was shivering. She felt cold, she was only wearing Ron's bathrobe and only now did she register that her feet were standing in a puddle of tea. The tea had cooled down by now which was why her feet were even more freezing. Hermione noticed with relieve that the she had missed the shards by a hairbreadth. Had she been standing a little more to the left, she would have cut her foot.

She closed her eyes, trying to forget what Malfoy had just said. It was only balderdash. He was just a spoiled boy who agreed with his parents' arrogant opinion. She was a witch. Since her birth she had been a proper… real… witch…

Hermione knew that he was wrong: Dumbledore had always treated everyone equally. He had known that all people at Hogwarts were witches and wizards. He had said it, meant it, known it. And she trusted Dumbledore.

And yet she couldn't prevent the tears from filling her eyes.

When was the last time that Malfoy's words had made her cry? Had they ever done it before?

At that moment she didn't know. She sobbed silently with her head lowered, letting her tears spill onto her lap, not knowing that Malfoy had done the same not so long ago. Whether it had been his words or the whole situation, the circumstances, which brought her to tears, she had no idea and didn't spare another thought to it. Maybe she was just releasing all the tension from the previous days…

She didn't figure out what was supposed to be her fault. She hadn't forced him to come and hadn't demanded him to leave his mother either. She couldn't figure out what something she didn't do had to do with her parentage. She just couldn't figure out him.

Eventually she stood, picked up the shards and wiped up the tea.

An apple she didn't take.

"You want us to search through all of these?" Ron asked the following morning with incredulous face, after Hermione had assigned him and Harry to the small library of the Blacks.

"Exactly, Ron. It's the best if you start now," Hermione said in a tone similar to McGonagall, while she surveyed the shelves.

"Yeah, and what about you?" Ron asked.

"I will deal with the books in Mrs. Black's bedroom," Hermione answered. "And you better go to work!" she called over the shoulder threateningly, marching out of the library.

The bedroom was a large, dark and dusty room, in the middle of which there was a big four- poster bed. The curtains were torn to shreds, maybe by Doxys, sagging tainted. The room was only dimly lit, so Hermione had to help herself with her wand, before she turned her attention to the dusty book shelf on the right. It was stuffed with thick, old looking tomes. Most of the covers were dark and inscribed with golden letters. Gathered from the titles, it was possible that the subject of Horcruxes was in at least the half of them.

Hermione sighed.

It would probably be the easiest to start on the left of the top shelf and to work through the books.

She pulled a dark green book out of the shelf and wiped away the dust to get a better look on the title: "Poisons which live up to their promises". The chance to find something useful in here was of course practically zero. But she and the boys had agreed to look into each book, which suited Hermione just well. She didn't have anything else to do after all and here she had the possibility to stick her nose into books she had never dreamt of reading – needless to say that she agreed with the authors by no means, but she found them interesting nevertheless.

One and a half hour later she finally got to a book, which sounded promising: "The soul and its relevance in the Dark Arts."

The soul seemed to be of great relevance or so the size of the book seemed to suggest. Hermione sat on the floor on a pillow from Mrs. Black's bed, leaned back against the shelf and opened the book. She ran a finger over the table of contents.

She couldn't suppress a small cry of triumph, when she read:

Horcruxes: Splitting of the soul… 351

Hastily she leafed through the old yellowed pages… 347…349…367…367!

"Damn!" she cursed loudly. On page 367 there was the title of the next chapter, written in large black letters. Hermione now detected that the chapter about the Horcruxes must have been ripped out.

She groaned: "You have got to be kidding me!" No one had any idea how to destroy a Horcrux. Riddle's diary seemed to have not been dangerous, but Dumbledore's black hand couldn't have been a clearer warning.

But, Hermione thought, that suggested even stronger that Regulus really was R.A.B.

She continued to look for several hours, until she decided that it was time for lunch. She put the book "Little torture to kill time" (an especially old work describing how to tantalize Muggles, house-elves and other creatures in a simple, but efficient way) back into the shelf and headed for the library.

Already from a distance she heard loud voices.

Voices of three people. Malfoy seemed to be arguing with Harry and Ron.

Hermione hadn't set eyes on him the whole day and it had suited her just well. She hadn't told Harry and Ron anything about the previous evening, wanting to forget it as quickly as possible and to try not to let on about it. She was hoping that he would restrain from any comments – just as Ron had since that evening she had explained that she only saw him as a friend.

Hermione was standing in front of the door now, surprised that the argument hadn't turned into a wild shouting battle yet – but wait a moment! They were not fighting, it seemed more like… no, that was impossible, wasn't it?

Hermione opened the door and stepped in.

Surrounded by carelessly spread books, Harry, Ron and Malfoy were sitting around a table on which there was something that Hermione recognized as the Daily Prophet.

"There is no way that was a sloth roll!" Harry said, drumming with his index finger on the newspaper.

"Honestly, Potter… you Gryffindors must really be pitiful Quidditch- players, if they even made you captain," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "You aren't even able to recognize a sloth roll, if it was right in your face."

Harry rolled his eyes and replied: "Open your eyes, man! He almost fell, that's all. It wasn't planned. It was just coincidence that he – "

"Harry, mate," Ron interfered. He seemed to feel extremely uncomfortable. "You see, you don't know O'Day. He is really cunning and… well… I think… Malfoy is… right."

Ron threw Harry an apologetic glance, blushing and shrinking in his chair.

"Ha! Even our Weasel- king knows it!" Malfoy called, smirking.

"And I thought Quidditch would divide the Houses even more," Hermione said loudly from the door. The three of them turned around surprised.

"If someone would have told me that I could bring even you to a civilized conversation…" she murmured. She walked towards them.

"Where did that come from?" she asked strictly, pointing at the Daily prophet.

"Normally it's brought by owls," Malfoy said with a bored voice.

"You know that it might attract attention if owls fly here, right? What if Death Eaters are still observing the house somehow?"

"Then they would have already noticed that we are here," Harry said. "And don't look at us so reproachfully! He ordered it!"

He was clearly Malfoy.

"Who would have thought…? So?"

"What?" Ron asked.

"What happened? Anything important?" Hermione said impatiently.

"Well… we… uh, we only read… sports…" Ron murmured under his breath.

"What? That's so typical!" Hermione called. She picked up the newspaper.

"Hey! I don't want a Mudblood to touch my stuff!" Malfoy shouted, which earned him kicks against both shinbones.

"Don't call her that!" Ron hissed furiously.

Hermione quickly scanned the headlines, finding relieved that nothing bad had happened.

"And did you find anything? In the books, I mean?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing," Harry said. "What about you?"

Hermione told them about the missing chapter about the Horcruxes.

"Yeah, that really points to Regulus," Harry agreed.

After they had finished with lunch and cleaned the kitchen – apart from Malfoy – the three boys went back to the library and Hermione returned to Mrs. Black's bedroom.

It happened often during the search that she forgot why she was here in the first place and lost herself in the books. Yet she managed to look through all the books by late evening, for she could scan the pages for the word "Horcrux" with a searching charm. A few times Horcruxes were mentioned, but only in subordinate clauses, which offered no new information.

She left the room disappointedly to help out in the library.

This time the mood was completely different. Harry and Ron were working in one of the corners, Malfoy in another. They weren't speaking, but only throwing deathly stares every now and then.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"I'm finished. There was nothing in the books. I think we can stay here for another half an hour and then go have dinner, alright?"

With an icy glance by Malfoy and a nod by the other two Gryffindors it was agreed.

"Well then. Where should I look?" she asked.

Harry pointed to a shelf in the middle of the room and then returned to the book he was holding in his hand.

They worked silently for a while. The only sound that was to be heard was the shutting of a book or the noise when a book was placed back into the shelf.

They didn't continue on for long, but went to the kitchen.

When they were all sitting around the table eating, it was too much for Hermione.

"Well, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Harry and Ron said simultaneously.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! We are just not very happy in his company," Ron grumbled.

"You were able to have a decent conversation before," Hermione objected.

"Before! That was a blooper that I regret deeply."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because!"

"But Ron, you have to – "

"Hermione! Let it go, okay!"

"No, I won't! I know how long we will be staying here, maybe months! And I'm not about to live in constant silence!"

"Months? You don't want to go back to Hogwarts, Granger? What about the N.E.?"

"There are more important things than that. What I actually wanted to say – "

"More important things? Merlin, Granger! There is nothing more important than homework and a back, that's buckled by carrying heavy books around!"

"Yes, there is! But if you – "

"I really thought that it would have been too late."

"Malfoy! Can I please finish speaking?" Hermione shouted shrilly.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Hermione asked, looking at him irritated.

"You can try," Malfoy said simply.

Hermione sighed.

"Anyway, what I wanted to say is – "

"I hope ten inches of parchment are enough. Professor Vector said six are enough, but – "

"DRACO MALFOY!" Hermione barked, now completely frantic. "If you don't shut your goddamn mouth at once, I'll hex you till you can't distinguish top from bottom anymore!" Inwardly Hermione was jumping up and down. It felt so good to vent her anger and to yell at his arrogant grinning face!

"I don't think that I will allow a Mudblood to talk to me like that," Malfoy said coolly.

"If you call her that one more time," Ron threatened with serious expression, shaking his fist in front of Malfoy's face, "I will hex you till you don't even know that top and bottom exist anymore!"

"Impressing."

"Could you please stop now?" Harry asked sharply. "You really drive me nuts, all of you! If you carry on like that, we will have killed each other, before Voldemort even had the idea to look for us in here! We have to pull ourselves together and try to make the best of it, okay?"

"Thanks, Harry. That's exactly what I wanted to say," Hermione sighed.

AN: Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think so far!