Chapter seven – An Unwelcome Guest
Hermione packed only a few things in a moment of panic.
She did not know what she would need in Hogsmeade, but she would return as early as possible and therefore probably wouldn't need much.
"Are you ready to leave?" her mother asked. She was preparing for afternoon tea, and Hermione deeply regretted not having any with her parents. She did not like lying to them, and she did not like not spending Christmas with them, but she felt like she had no choice in the matter.
"Yes," she sighed, "Yes, I am." Her parents hugged her goodbye. Hermione held back the tears craving to escape her eyes.
"Say hello to the Weaslys from us and wish them a merry Christmas, all right, darling?"
Hermione nodded. "I will. Save a bit of dinner for me."
She stepped out in front of the family's fireplace, took some floo powder, closed her eyes and prepared to think of The Three Broomsticks. But it was something completely different that came to her mind as she travelled through.
Hermione took a step outside the fireplace that she had landed in. The first thought that stroke her mind was that she was most defiantly not in The Three Broomsticks. The room she was in was far too big to be at the pub, and it looked rather like a house than a public place.
The walls were covered in dark green wallpaper, it was velvet; Hermione could feel the softness beneath her fingertips. It reminded her of her grandmother's living room. Her wallpaper was red though.
The room was close to being empty. It only contained a small dusty couch, the fireplace she had arrived in, and an empty wooden closet.
It was very big, so big that she could not understand why it was empty. Maybe the owners of the room were so wealthy that it was just a spare room waiting to be used, or maybe some kind of spell had enchanted what really hid in the room so that nobody could see it.
Hermione did not have much time to wonder. Shortly after her arrival she could her footsteps nearing the room. She did not know what to do, but she had taught herself never to panic in dangerous situations. Suppose, the owners of the room would understand that she had mistakenly travelled to the wrong fireplace.
But she did not dare to take that risk, so she hid inside the empty closet. It was made of mahogany, Hermione's favourite type of wood.
The double-door in oak leading into the room, opened up. It made a funny little squeak as old doors usually do when they are opened. Two pair of feet entered the room.
"You cannot continue like this, boy! You know what will happen if you don't do it. He has given you a very precious job, which surely will clean off any dirt that is on our family's name. You have to do it, son. You need to do it. You know the consequences if you don't," one of the people, a man, spoke in a harsh tone. Hermione felt her heart beat a bit faster as he spoke; she recognized that voice, but from where? What frightened her the most, though, was what had been said. It had not sounded as a silly game, but more like something very serious was going on and she began to wonder just whose house she had visited.
"I know, father..." the other person begun. Hermione slightly jumped in surprise. That voice. It was even more recognizable than the other.
Apparently her jump had caught the attention of the two men because Draco Malfoy all of a sudden stopped talking to his father Lucius. Silence filled the room for a minute or two.
"I will get it done," Draco spoke, "soon." He sounded way scarier, yet terrified, than Hermione had ever heard him. She sighed in relief of not being discovered. For a moment there she had thought herself exposed.
The two men left the room again and Hermione carefully got out of the closet. She was trapped. In the Malfoy mansion.
She had stupidly enough not brought along any floo powder, so there was no way she could escape through the fireplace, and she was not yet sure of her Disapparation skills. She could give it a try, but she was sure she would just end up at some island with one leg missing.
She had lied to both Ron and Harry about her Disapparation. They both believed she was so bloody good at everything, but she wasn't. She couldn't admit it to anyone, not even to herself.
She could wait for Draco to come back and tell him everything. He could help her, she was certain. But what if he did not return? And what if he did not want to help her? She still kept the option that he was only fooling around with her for the fun of it, open. There really wasn't any other explanation why Draco all of a sudden had begun being so kind towards her. It was the strangest thing.
Hermione sat in the closet for a long time, debating with herself what to do. She wished more than ever to be in front of her own fireplace in her own house back in London. Right now she did not even know where she was. She had never before heard Draco speak of his family home, but she was sure it was somewhere dodgy.
Hours later Hermione heard footsteps again. She had fallen a bit asleep. It had turned dark outside, she could tell from the only window in the room covered with heavy drapes. Soon her parents would begin to worry. She had to make it home before morning light, no matter how.
Hermione opened one of the closet's two doors just enough to see what was going on in the room. The double-door opened and in came Draco. Hermione did once again jump a bit at the sight of him, but this time without making a noise.
Draco walked into the room with a wondering expression on his face. He looked as if he was aware of Hermione's presence. Hermione shook her head silently. He couldn't possibly.
Draco walked straight towards the closet, which made Hermione shake in fear. She could imagine how the entire closet shook along with her. She had exposed herself - she knew it.
She could hear his breath, he was that close. She had taken a step back so that her face wasn't visible through the gab between the doors. She closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable.
Hermione was sure that Draco would say something or at least throw the doors open and expose her. She was not quite sure why Draco had crossed her mind just as she was travelling with floo powder, but she sure regretted that thought.
"Draco, dinner!" Narcissa Malfoy yelled, breaking the silence with a high pitch. Hermione jumped in surprise once more. She had not expected that to happen, but she hoped it was her saving.
"Coming!" Draco turned his face and yelled. He took a glare around the room, as if to check if anybody was around.
"The roof, two o'clock," he then whispered, his eyes on the floor. He walked out of the room, leaving Hermione behind. It took a few minutes for Hermione to get over the shock and to realise that he had been talking to her. She was the only one around, and as far as she was aware Draco didn't walk around and talk to himself.
But how could she know when the clock struck two? She had no watch. But she had a wand...
After hours of re-checking the watch that she had made with her wand, and making up reasons to whether she should or should not go and meet Draco, Hermione left the closet. It was five to two, and she still had to find a way to the roof.
It was drab outside now, the window told her. Small stars lit up a bit though. Hermione loved the stars. They felt so magical. She remembered how she as a kid would spend night after night counting the stars and wondering how they even got there. She had once had a theory that it, as a matter of fact, was small fairies flying around at nighttime.
Hermione smiled at the thought.
She tiptoed across the room and through the oak doors. The hall that she stepped into was only lit up by one lamp that hung from the ceiling. It did not shine bright, but Hermione could tell that there were at least six doors in the hallway. What if she accidentally opened the door to Narcissa and Lucius' bedroom? Perhaps it was a trap – the Malfoy's could be waiting around any corner, ready to jump her and captivate her.
The roof… There had to be a door that led to a staircase somewhere. Hermione wished Draco had been more precise. He could at least have given her a riddle. She was good at solving those. Her, Harry and Ron had done it thousands of times. Harry had even fought a real 'Riddle'… She chuckled silently at her own joke. Good to know she still had a bit of humour in possible deadly situations.
Hermione continued to walk down the hallway, wondering where it would lead her.
The answer to that question came just a few more inches down the hallway. A staircase led the way down to what looked like the entrance of the mansion. It was big and beautiful. The floor was covered in red velvet.
Hermione was about to walk down the stairs when she spotted a ladder that was placed right next to her. It was weird to place such one there, wasn't it? She looked up, and discovered a hatch in the ceiling. She could not see where it led, but her guess was the roof.
Hermione grabbed the ladder and placed it just beneath the hatch. She hated ladders; she had always been terrified of falling down from one. Heights were not her thing. But she knew she had to do this, so she, cautiously, took one step at a time and climbed up through the hatch. She got up into another empty, dark room. But this was different; it was dirty, and looked as if it had never before been used. She could be the only one to ever had set foot in that room.
"Lumos," she whispered, holding up her wand. A little, bright light shone from the top of it. She showed her wand a bit around to make out her whereabouts. The room was what she would call an attic. It was very dusty; so much that Hermione nearly couldn't breathe.
She took a few steps ahead, not really knowing what direction to walk. Was this the way Draco wanted her to go? Had he placed the ladder for her to find? Or was this part of his sick, twisted joke? He had probably already informed his parents of her presence, and they were on their way to catch her. Maybe just lock her inside this room so that she would eventually die from lack of oxygen…
Hermione could not believe that she had been this stupid. The kindness, the letter… It just wasn't Draco. Draco was cruel, mean towards everyone, and a big hater of Mudbloods. This had all been a scam to set her up, to hurt her like she deserved it for being a witch.
"'Mione?" Hermione turned around in utter surprise. There he was, Draco. He too held his wand up with a light at the tip. He looked calm, a bit worried, but calm.
"Malfoy..." she whispered.
"I thought you'd never come." Draco took a step closer to Hermione.
"You did not quite make it obvious where to go. I've never been here before, you know," Hermione explained. She sounded a bit grumpy. She still didn't truly believe that he was there just to see her.
"I knew you'd find me somehow. I mean - you're smart." He smirked and walked all the way up to Hermione, so they were face to face. "This way," Draco said, and took Hermione's hand. This time they were not in a hurry or stuck among hundreds of other people, like they had been the first time Draco had held her hand. This time she got to think about it and truly feel it.
Draco led the way further into the dark room, all the way up to another door. He slowly opened it - it made the same squeaky noise as the one in the room with the closet. And then they were out on the roof.
Hermione studied the stars as she had always done as a kid with Draco still holding her hand. They were sitting down on a blanket, which Draco explained he had placed there months ago when he had discovered the place. He had never before then known there was a way to get to the top of his house.
"Why are you here?" he asked after a while of silence. He studied her face as they spoke. Her freckles had nearly faded completely in the winter.
"I was actually going to The Three Broomsticks, but ended up here. Floo powder is not always reliable, I suppose."
"Why The Three Broomsticks on Christmas Eve? Row with your parents?" He looked sincerely concerned. Hermione shook her head.
"No, nothing like that. Just a, er, misunderstanding. Don't worry about it, please," she said.
"They're beautiful, right?" Draco said gazing at the stars. Hermione looked confused. Did he think that her parents were beautiful? That made absolutely no sense at all.
"The stars. I've noticed how you adore them," he explained. He was talking about the stars, of course he was. Why did her mind also go silly around him?
"Oh... Yes! They are very beautiful." Hermione forced a smile. For some reasons she did not feel happy. She worried too much.
"Your eyes light up like them," said Draco. Hermione coughed once or twice to cover up her blushing cheeks. "Excuse me?" Malfoy blushed as well, she could tell.
"Er, never mind. I suppose I was just being cheesy." They chuckled. Hermione did not know where to place herself or what to say. She even caught herself wishing she had never left the closet. It was all a bit awkward and embarrassing.
"Draco..." she spoke. Draco looked at her with his very blue eyes. "I have sort of run into trouble..." She explained all about forgetting her floo powder at home, and not being able to leave the mansion.
"Our house is not a mansion," Draco laughed, interrupting her talk.
"Yes it is, Malfoy! You have God knows how many bed-and bathrooms, and doors all over. Your floor is covered in velvet..."
"It's not a mansion, it's just a... a very big house," he corrected with a smirk.
"No, no it isn't!" Hermione chuckled and threw her fist at his arm.
"Ouch! Yes, it's... Okay, it's a mansion. Stop hurting me!" They both laughed. Hermione enjoyed Draco's laughter. His real laughter, not the one he shared with his fellows after singing Weasly is Our King. All those years she had been used to his cruel laugh, but this was nothing like it. Hermione wondered how many people whom had actually ever heard of that laugh. Probably not even Crabbe and Goyle.
"We have some floo powder in the living room. I can steal some for you, if you'd like it."
"Seems like I don't have a choice, right? And thank you," she answered.
"Well I could bring you some blankets. You could stay here until semester starts," Draco suggested, but she couldn't tell whether he was kidding.
"No, thank you, but I better go home. My trunk and cat... But thank you for the offer." Draco got up and offered a hand to help Hermione get to her feet.
As the sun rose Draco and Hermione walked back into the room. He had brought floo powder.
"Have a nice and safe trip back," he said with a smile. They had spent the rest of the night up on the roof talking and laughing. She had told him everything about her family; the rows, her dream of moving to Australia, stories from her childhood. Things she had never before told anyone. She had grown into feeling secure around Draco. He didn't share as much in return – not because he didn't want to… He just simply didn't have many happy memories from growing up.
"Thank you. I'll see you at the Express." Draco gave a nod. He leaned in to Hermione and kissed her forehead. For a second Hermione believed she would explode like fireworks. Not from excitement or enchantment, but because she all of a sudden felt very warm. Feverish.