Chapter 7

Hermione was immediately thrown by how windy it was. She struggled to shut her coat, her hair flying everywhere in a desperate attempt to escape the clutches of her bun. She moaned loudly, why, oh why, had Harry moved to such an isolated cottage in the middle of the northern countryside. It made perfect sense for so many reasons, especially security, but it also always meant Hermione was unprepared for how bitterly cold it would be when she apparated in.

The innocent, red-roofed cottage greeted her with its faded white fence and big garden. It was so familiar to her; she had been so many times to visit that she had lost count. In fact, she had been the one to secure the place after her relatives had moved away from it. The greatest wizard living in a muggle family home in the middle of nowhere? Who would suspect. Now, though, she faced the familiar house with trepidation.

Draco's accusations circled in her head continuously and she bit her lip in anxious nervousness. Was she actually going to go in and accuse Ginny, someone who she had known so well, for so long, of such an unspeakable act? She gulped as the realization hit her. She should go away, before she made a fool of herself. Maybe talk to Harry first and ask some probing questions. Knowing Harry though, she knew how out of touch the boy could be. Nevertheless, it was better and she preferred it to rushing in, on the word of an ex-deatheater.

Before she could make a move to flee, the door suddenly opened and out ran a little 4-year old boy. He held a toy airplane in his fist, letting it fly next to him and making zooming noises. His hair was golden brown and his eyes a shiny green, a replica of his father's famous features.

He screeched to a halt when he saw Hermione, his face lighting up instantly in recognition. "Auntie!"

He ran towards her and Hermione had to bend down to scoop the eager boy into her arms.

"Hello James. My, you've grown" she said. She tried to sound cheerful but she realized that she was trapped and wouldn't be able to beat a hasty retreat.

"You say that all the time", his laughs turning into shrieks as Hermione tickled him mercilessly.

Finally, when he had been tickled enough she propped him back onto his feet. He beamed at her enthusiastically and showed her his airplane.

"Look what I have. I've never been in one. They say muggles fly in them".

Hermione nodded sagely, "Yes James. And they can carry hundreds of people over oceans".

James' eyes lit up even more, "Wow. Dad's broom can't do that".

"What's all that noise James?" a voice called out abruptly from within the house and Ginny stepped out, onto the porch. She looked like she had in school, age had not affected her at all except for the prominent bump which showed that she was expecting a second child. A loose apron was folded around her and her fiery-red hair was tied into a bun that rested on the nape of her neck.

She spotted Hermione immediately and smiled broadly, "Oh Hermione! We weren't expecting you. Harry said you were on a trip. How are you?"

Hermione swallowed, watching James run back to his mum gesticulating about how Hermione had come to visit and whether she could play with him.

"I'm fine." Hermione hesitantly walked forward, up the pathway to the door. Ginny must have noticed a peculiar expression on her face because she cocked her head and eyed her curiously. "Oh…are you sure? Is Harry ok? Is he in trouble again?" She sighed and rubbed her dirty hands on the apron, pushing James in behind her.

"Yes. I. Yes, everything is ok. I actually came to speak to you about…something".

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows then stepped back, "Well of course. Do come in".

The two strolled into the cottage which was nicely decorated but completely chaotic and filled to the brim with photos and mementos. It had a lovely homely feeling that Hermione always desperately wished she had when she went back to her empty flat in London.

"Do you want some tea?" Ginny offered as she bustled into the kitchen.

"No, no I'm fine. I was wondering if maybe we could speak more in private?" Hermione discreetly indicated to James who had followed them into the kitchen and was attempting to climb a stool.

Ginny frowned again, curious as to Hermione's strange behavior, but she bent down to her child without any further questions, "James, dear, can you go the garden for a little bit. Water the flowers. Who wants to water the flowers?"

James jumped up eagerly at the opportunity to be outside again and he tottered out enthusiastically carrying the water can, splashing half the water in his trail.

"Right", Ginny heaved herself onto the stool and her hands cupped her swollen stomach. "What's on your mind Hermione? I hope Ron hasn't asked for a favour again through you".

This would normally have made Hermione laugh but instead she only managed to smile weakly, taking a seat on a second stool. She coughed and wrung her hands. Now sitting opposite her, she had no idea how to say anything at all, let alone what she needed to ask.

Ginny frowned, then reached over to hold Hermione's hands that were shaking slightly on the counter. "Hermione, what is it? You're starting to worry me a lot". Her voice was soft and motherly and Hermione realized that she smelled of fresh strawberry. It seemed fitting to her.

Hermione sighed deeply then stared at Ginny. She murmured the only word she could manage, "Malfoy".

It was like lightning had hit Ginny. Her face paled and she snatched her hand away only to use it to cover her mouth that had dropped open.

This response did not make Hermione feel better. Guilt crashed into her; so Draco had been right. A pit began to form in her stomach. She sunk her head into her hands and groaned.

There was silence then Ginny managed to ask tentatively, "What…what do you know?"

Hermione gazed back at her. All her life she had thought she knew certain things. She thought she could tell right from wrong. That there was a clear cut line between evil and good, and that she and her friends were so firmly on the good side that there was no way they could be criminals.

Hermione shook her head, evading her question completely. "Just tell me why. Why even?"

Ginny's head dropped. "I…I guess you found out." She peeked up at her, hoping for a response but Hermione stayed tight-lipped staring at Ginny, as if for the first time.

"I…god it's been so long. I just…I. Is he? I mean. I...". She pattered of rubbing her forehead forcefully.

"You thought he had died?" Hermione interjected bluntly. "Did you think that he had worn away in the prison you made for him?"

"Well…when you put it that way. God, he's still alive, isn't he? Hermione? Oh, don't look at me like that! He's a Malfoy. He deserved everything that he got. I thought you of all people would be able to understand."

"Understand what?" Hermione was not sure she could believe what she was actually hearing.

"They were going to let him get away for , nothing. Not even a slap on his fucking wrist. The ministry said he was just a child when he made the decisions he did. But he was no child. No more than we were children forced into the horrible situations we were. And we did, we fought for what was right."

"That doesn't…I…" Hermione seethed. She could feel the anger boil in her. Never in her life would she have thought she would have come to the defence of Draco.

"That is ridiculous Ginny. Yes, we were fighting for what was right but what you did was the farthest thing from right. Right? RIGHT? Jesus, you locked a man in his own home for ten years. Ten years. That is not something I understand."

Tears sprang into Ginny's eyes and her voice raised in hostility, "But he's a Malfoy, Hermione. He's a murderer, just like his father. Like his grand-father. And his great-grandfather. He deserved justice and he was going to get away with everything. EVERYTHING. I wasn't going to lose a brother and not have every single person who deserved to rot in hell be put to the justice they deserved."

Ginny leant back, pausing briefly to take huge gulps of breath in. She continued cynically, "Have you forgotten Hermione? What he did to you as well? You were just a mudblood to him, excuse my language. You weren't of value – no one was. Why is he worth anyone's thoughts at all?"

Hermione sighed. "You know you can't do that Ginny. You can't decide for yourself what is justice. I know…Fred's death….everyone's death hit us hard. I remember. I remember those insults but yes, we were children even if we had to do adult stuff. We were still children. It hurt us all but…"

"But what Hermione?" Ginny interrupted. She leaned closer to Hermione, beseeching her with her eyes to see reason, "Everyone was thinking the same thing. They couldn't believe he was going to get away scotch-free. No one would have missed him. Ha, apparently no one did".

Her laugh was bitter and heated as she slammed her fist on the table.

Hermione stared at Ginny for a long time. She couldn't find the right words to argue with her. She wanted to, she wanted to slap the girl, shake her, just do something. Instead, a pitiful tear seeped out of her.

"I can't believe you were my friend", Hermione's voice choked and she lifted her hand to her nose to stop the sniffling. Ginny looked at her, a mixture of bewilderment and anger.

"Don't you feel even any remorse?" she asked the ginger.

Ginny shook her head slightly. "I don't know" she finally replied honestly. "Would I do it again? Yes. Would I knowing he's still alive now? I don't know – maybe I hope he is learning and reflecting on what he has done. I doubt that has changed him much".

Hermione breathed in deeply not trusting herself to say anything. Instead, she gazed out the window hoping that would cool her simmering anger. She was so close to losing control

Ginny remained quiet, ever so occasionally glancing at Hermione waiting for her to speak.

"How did you even find such magic? I thought I knew most spells but that…" Hermione said.

"It came from an old book that my dad had confiscated from the Ministry. You know how he liked to steal interesting stuff" she said jokingly.

Hermione did not smile. "Well…do you still have it?"

Ginny gazed at her shocked. "Are you…are you going to help him?"

"That's none of your concern. Well, do you?" Hermione replied frostily.

Ginny was taken aback and stood up hurriedly. "I…yes. I've kept it in a special place in the cellar." She gestured to her bump and added, "Though I think you may have to get it. I can't go down those stairs".

Hermione only nodded making her way to the back of the cottage and down the cellar, having been there before to help get some wine out. It was damp underneath but in good order, filled to the brim with lots of junk.

Hermione lit up her wand and scanned the area but it was cramped and she couldn't spot any books.

"I think the book is hidden underneath those blueprint plans for the garden by the shelf to the side" Ginny called out from above. There was clear hesitation in her voice but also defeat. She was not prepared to argue with Hermione.

Hermione located the blueprint easily and finally managed to unearth the book from undrneath. It was unbearably heavy, its blue cover peeled and faded but clearly marked "Restricted: Spells for the Dangerous". In all her time in the library she had never come across such a title.

She packed it in her bottomless bag then made her way upstairs.

Once back in the kitchen, she turned to the red-head who was watching her every move like a hawk.

"Right. I should leave. Tell Harry that I'm fine. I'll be back into work soon." Her curt tone sounded harsh but Hermione didn't trust herself to say anymore without exploding. She was also eager to get back and see what the book had to say about the spell.

"You're leaving already?" Ginny asked helplessly. "Are you…? I…" She floundered slightly clearly a number of things racing through her head that she wanted to say.

Finally she queried timidly, "Are you going to tell Harry? He doesn't know and maybe it would be better that way." Her voice was hopeful as she stared imploringly at Hermione.

Hermione was not sure how to answer. Instead she nodded and clutching the bag tightly under her made her way back outside. She managed to wave to James who was extremely disappointed that she was leaving and eluded his persistent questions enough to apparate back to the woods.

It was dark already and Hermione was brought back to the first night she had been stuck in that same place. This time, thankfully, there was no downpour of rain. She quickly found the marks she had left behind and followed them back to the clearing and on to the mansion. Her heart raced the nearer she approached the manor, the thuds sounding loud in her ear.

She was extremely nervous – this time it would be voluntary choice to go back. She walked up the manor stairs and hesitated at the entrance. This was worse than confronting Ginny in some way. She was not sure why though. Taking a firm breath in, she pushed open and walked in. She was not surprised to see Malfoy sitting in the same chair as if he had never left, his face gazing deeply into the fire.

The flash of surprise and joy on his face gave her confidence that she had made the right decision.

Author's note:

Not so many reviews or likes last time (sad face). Enjoyed writing this chapter and hopefully people will enjoy it more!