Monday, October 28, 1996
Being in a snit with Ron and Harry had quite a few unintended consequences. One of those was walking alone from class to class.
Usually, this wouldn't bother Hermione. It actually gave her a free moment to mentally decompress from one lecture to the next, or more often, to stress over Theo's recent revelation. However, it also left her vulnerable to uncomfortable and somehow unavoidable social interactions.
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione."
The sound was grating in her ears. He was inescapable! She hadn't even noticed until he'd come strolling beside her, tagging along through the hall.
"Cormac."
What was she to say? She certainly didn't want to encourage this conversation, but what nice way was there to tell him that? Draco's words hummed in her ears. Cluing him in on the fact that he'll never shag you is cruel now?
"I heard about your troubles with Weasley and Potter." His arm slid heavy over her shoulder, curling around her neck. "Why don't we meet in the library tonight? I'll lend you my shoulder to cry on, or anything else you may need."
The charming smile spread across his face made Hermione shrink back, shrugging away from the crook of his arm. Theo's peering into her mind had left her feeling mentally violated and stripped of her privacy, so Cormac's advances irked her worse than usual today. Every word just piled further atop her existing stress.
"I don't know, Cormac. I have patrols this evening."
Her voice felt too meek, too placid. She needed to stop this! This was not her – not Hermione Granger. She was a Gryffindor! Hermione Granger doesn't shy away from a challenge! Who was this girl, who refused to speak her mind?
"I'll join you then. Anything could be stalking these corridors at night, Hermione. We can check all those dark nooks and crannies together, just to be safe." His voice had deepened, as though she needed any hint at his meaning.
Thoughts were beyond her. She felt worked up, annoyed at her own placating – being meek was not for her. Words spit from her mouth before she knew they were coming.
"I have a boyfriend, Cormac. I doubt he'd like that very much." It was the most forceful thing she'd ever said to him. She stopped walking, stepping against the wall to lay the full force of her gaze on him.
"Is that right? Who's the lucky wizard, then?" His voice was intrigued, one eyebrow cocked. Hermione couldn't tell for sure if he was expressing disbelief, so she pushed ahead blindly.
"That's not the important point here. I'm telling you that us patrolling together would be inappropriate." Hermione tried forcing a no nonsense tone into her words. She was happily surprised to find it halfway successful.
Cormac chuckled, glancing around the hall as though he'd find the wizard in question. "Don't tell me it's Weasley, yeah?"
"Good afternoon, Cormac." Each word was clipped and tight as she forced them out.
Hermione turned on her heel to walk away, mind reeling. Why had she said that? A flat out lie, for no reason. Surely she could muster up enough courage to tell a boy she wasn't interested? And yet, apparently not.
She had lied, and yet, Draco's face had appeared in her mind. His words had spurned her forward. If any outsider looked at her life, they'd surely assume she was referring to Draco, whether she meant to or not. The sheer thought of calling Draco Malfoy, the spoiled Slytherin miscreant, her boyfriend was preposterous. But her dastardly heart reminded her of how Draco had listened when she vented about the boys; of how he gripped her thighs with those smooth hands; of how he gave her a break from the humdrum of routine.
No – what a ridiculous notion. The line between being enemies with benefits and being in a committed relationship was thick. There was no question on where they stood. She'd told a lie, Hermione reminded herself.
At least, she hoped, it would finally get Cormac to leave her alone.
Tuesday, October 29, 1996
Hermione decided not to bunker down in the library that afternoon, instead trudging up to Gryffindor tower after her final class.
A week had passed now since her spat with the boys, and it was time to call a truce. Without a doubt, Theo knew of her and Draco's situation¸ and being exposed was frighteningly possible. If it happened soon, hopefully Hermione could mitigate their response beforehand. She couldn't even imagine the color Ron's face would turn if he found out about Draco right after she'd so vehemently denied being with anyone.
Maybe he'd come up with a new shade, like a light blue. That would be quite something.
Reaching the common room, Hermione couldn't see either Ron or Harry milling around. She planted herself onto a couch directly facing the entrance portrait, pulling out her arithmancy text.
It didn't take long for her to get lost in her notes, only glancing up whenever she heard the portrait's tell-tale squeal. When Harry's shaggy head finally poked into the room, she couldn't be sure how much time had passed.
She called their names, closing the book. Harry came over and settled on a nearby armchair, Ron ambling behind before dropping next to Hermione on the couch.
The silence spread for a moment, thick between the three of them.
"Harry," Hermione said calmly, glancing toward him. "Ron."
"Hermione," they both mumbled.
Breathing deeply, she tried to push recent events from her mind before speaking. Making up would be a bit more difficult if she was still shouting at Ron.
"I am not dating Cormac McLaggen. I have never – will never, date Cormac McLaggen."
"Are you sure he knows that?" Ron piped up, cheeks pinking.
Hermione huffed. "I can't even be sure he knows he's a wizard, Ronald, much less that he knows his chances with any witch." Her head shook, Cormac's unending advances fresh in her mind. The disgust on her face was clear, given how strongly she could feel her nose scrunched.
Both boys chuckled a bit. Hermione could feel the air's tension lighten ever so slightly, easing around her.
It almost made her more upset, feeling their fight begin to pass. She knew Theo wouldn't keep her secret for long – what Slytherin would? Merlin, she was impressed she and Draco had managed it so far. But soon, the boys would be fighting her again, eating in silence, shouldering her out of their little trio. What had she done? Risked it all, for Draco? For a sweaty secret and a temporary release?
Hermione's shoulders raised taut, her neck stiff. Certainly she hadn't permanently risked their little club; their trio against the world? Hermione couldn't be sure how she'd handle becoming a one witch army.
Harry was a brother to Hermione. In the end she knew he felt the same, having her as a sister. But, Harry would never choose her over Ron. She was the unofficial third wheel, and they all knew it. It was a sad truth, but a familiar one. Whatever happened in the next weeks, Hermione could tell it would test her relationship with Harry and Ron.
There was nothing to be done now – she'd dug this hole for herself. Hermione took a shuddering breath, hoping to clear her mind. One step at a time.
"Famous quidditch stars only, then?" Ron asked jokingly, leaning ever so slightly toward her on the couch.
She laughed a bit, for a moment fondly recalling her time with Viktor. She couldn't help but think of Draco's experience chasing snitches as well.
"If you recall, I wasn't the one fawning over his quidditch records all term."
Ron huffed, a growing smile on his parted lips. "World Cup! At eighteen! A seeker! Let's see you do it, then!"
"He did lose." Harry pointed out.
"He caught the snitch!"
"And it didn't matter, they still lost!"
"What do you want from him – to cover every position himself?"
"Of course not, bloody anarchy of a team."
"Blame Zograf, couldn't block a quaffle if he actually tried."
"Like he –"
"So," Hermione interrupted, "can we go back to normal now?"
Ron and Harry shot each other final annoyed looks before turning to her.
"Fine. You're not with McLaggen, but you'd tell us if you're hiding something, right?" Harry spoke before Ron could, watching her movements carefully.
She splayed and stretched her fingers, cursing her urge to ball both fists.
"Harry, I just don't understand this fascination with my schedule, honestly." A laugh choked out from her throat. "I've always been busy, even more now with N.E.W.T.s coming up. Our classes are important! Really, we should be discussing how you and Ron aren't swamped yourselves – they're even harder than O.W.L. exams!" Hopefully, Hermione had learned how to side step her friends well enough over the years that they wouldn't notice. A lie by omission was enough, she didn't need to make it worse.
She pointedly ignored as the corners of Harry's mouth tipped down.
"Hermione," Ron's pitched whine sounded. "Come on, not right now." And with that, Hermione knew Ron was over it.
Thursday, October 31, 1996
Honeysuckle.
The search continues.
Hermione wasn't wholly convinced that Draco's list of possible girlfriends was accurate. Neither Lisa nor Megan were purebloods, and Hermione had a hard time believing that Blaise's heart would be so willing to break from the fold. Purebloods were a cult with only one way in; being born.
And surely there could be some inter-year mingling. Even she, the touted bookworm, had kissed a boy two years older than her! Blaise wasn't a prude, so Hermione had made her own list. It hadn't grown too much in comparison to Draco's, but there were a few girls she wanted to speak with.
How to ask, though – that was the tricky part. She would need to stay casual, kind of aloof. Hopefully she could come off as only mildly interested, as though politely following the train of conversation. Draco of course was much better at all of this, but no fifth year Hufflepuff would divulge her romantic secrets to him. Whether she was skilled or not, Hermione had a much better chance of getting answers on her own for now.
Strolling from lunch that afternoon, Hermione almost couldn't believe her luck. Not ten meters in front of her was a fifth year Ravenclaw, Begonia Kettleburne, who'd made the list.
Dying to start narrowing down the names, Hermione sped up her steps to meet Begonia. They'd never spoken before, and Hermione wanted to learn all about a sordid affair with a missing Slytherin, so she tried to keep her face calm and her gait casual. Casual, she repeated, like I do this all the time.
"Begonia?"
The girl jumped away, startled to hear her name. "Hermione Granger?"
Seeing her face, Hermione recalled a recent conversation with her favorite professor. "McGonagall mentioned you were taking her advanced Transfiguration sessions this term. How are you liking them so far?"
Begonia seemed even more surprised as Hermione began talking, and paused for a moment before speaking.
"They're – yes. Well, I am." The girl shook her head, rolling back her shoulders before continuing. "They're very interesting. The extra work is quite cumbersome, but McGonagall's lectures on the manipulation of vanishing spells and their creation is fascinating."
Hermione nodded, recalling the course. "I remember those lessons."
Begonia began explaining where they had reached in the course. Hermione kept the conversation as natural as possible, hoping she could steer this effectively toward Blaise.
"Yes, have you reached her discussions of the recent political history with vanishing spells? That must have been my favorite lecture."
"I don't remember discussing that, no." Begonia shook her head. "It must be coming up soon. What does McGonagall say?"
"She has some great explanations of how they were repurposed during the war years, and the regulatory battles surrounding their use," Hermione supplied, hoping the other girl's ears didn't find the words as forced as Hermione's own did.
Begonia's eyes widened, "Oh wow, that does sound very interesting. So people were modifying the spells somehow?"
"They were." Hermione nodded. "Rather than vanishing rats and snakes and goblets, people were vanishing anything you can think of. Some created objects like portkeys, as she describes, that people used to vanish themselves."
"Like Blaise Zabini!" Begonia whispered, glancing around the empty corridor. "Up in thin air! With no trace! I wonder how that's different than apparition."
Hermione could feel herself deflate. She hadn't even done that much guiding before Begonia had given up the game on her own. No lovesick sweetheart looked so outwardly fascinated and animated at the thought of her love vanishing himself.
"It has to do with the difference in location selection and use, but I'll let McGonagall explain. I must be going to my next class now, good luck with Transfiguration!" Hermione excused herself, stepping away and continuing through the hall.
Begonia Kettleburne was officially removed from the Honeysuckle Possibilities list. Hermione felt herself get one step closer to figuring this out. If every witch tipped her hand that easily, this would be a breeze.
Hopefully she could speak to Megan or Lisa soon and knock them off the list, given how sure Draco was. If Begonia had outright confessed right then and there, Hermione suspected Draco would be looking for more proof. Given what Theo had said about Blaise's tendency to stray, she might even need proof that this girl was the only one!
Hermione sighed to herself, knowing that was just her pride talking. None of the girls on her list could she picture with Blaise. Not that she could really picture him with Megan or Lisa either, but she did assume they were the most likely candidates.
The girl had to be someone there in Hogwarts. So if Hermione had to ask every last student, one by one, then she'd get it done.
Saturday, November 2, 1996
Hermione stopped for a moment, listening intently for any meaningful noise. The old groans and taps of the aging castle didn't disturb her as she tried to pick out a pattering of footsteps. The dungeons weren't far now, and Hermione knew she'd hear Draco's impatient humming soon enough.
Draco had finally set the details yesterday for their first occlumency lesson; this evening at ten in an empty dungeons classroom, tucked away from the main corridors. Hermione knew this was a good idea, as patrols would most often be finished with this part of the castle by now. Most prefects hated walking the dungeons alone at night, like any non-Slytherin would.
When Hermione reached the room that he'd described, she could hear his faint humming from just outside. She pushed the door open to see him laying back across an empty potions desk, twirling his wand in circles. He glanced her way when she came in, giving a small nod in greeting.
"Draco."
"Running a bit late, are we?"
"My commute was a fair bit longer than –" Hermione was cut off in surprise, realizing why he was waving his wand.
Her head ducked down, trying to shield her from a small flying copper cauldron. It was certainly far enough away not to hit her, but seeing it jet around in the air was shocking enough.
"Was a warning too much to ask for?" Hermione's voice raised a pitch or two in response.
The cauldron swooped low before dropping to the floor with a clang. "Don't be so skittish, Granger. You were perfectly safe. If I wanted to smack you across the room with a cauldron, I would have done it months ago," he said with a hearty scoff.
"Maybe I wasn't questioning your intention as much as your ability." Her nose might have risen a bit, yes, but that was of no importance.
Hearing the words come from her mouth, Draco gave a deeply amused laugh. He brought his chest up from the table, leaning back on both arms as he caught his breath. "Don't you Gryffindors get in trouble for lying like that?" He asked with a haughty smirk.
"I can't say it's nearly as encouraged as it is here in the dungeons."
"And yet, you've lied to your little friends all term. How exactly does that work?"
Hermione's throat tightened. The boys were still a tough topic for her right now. Lying to them was much easier when she didn't have to think about it.
"And you've been straying from the little pureblood pond all term as well. How does it work for you?" Hermione felt the sugary sweet words hit the ground as they left her mouth. Picking at his choice of her felt weak and meaningless. Hadn't he'd said so himself? Knobs don't discriminate.
Draco didn't respond for a moment. His eyes narrowed, and she assumed he was deciding what to say next. They waited in baited silence as Hermione allowed Draco to choose.
She used the small break to study him. Even this late in the evening, he was still wearing his pressed uniform and impeccable dress shoes. His sweater and tie were gone, and only his wrinkled dress shirt remained, one button undone. Hermione found that she'd grown to like seeing him tousled like this. He, the impeccable upper class man, let the veneer fall away in private. His features were sharp and pointed, dramatized in the room's muted light. Once again the fringe of his hair was draped across his forehead, only a smattering of pieces tucked away behind his ear.
"I'm not here this evening to discuss pureblood social politics, and I know you aren't either." Draco's voice was flat and monotone. His disinterest in fighting was a pleasant relief to Hermione. The excitement of learning occlumency had largely been tempered by having to let Draco explore her mind. Having him angry wouldn't make it any easier.
"Well." Hermione paused, unsure of what to say. "How do you block legilimency, then?"
Draco's mouth pursed, as though holding a lemon between his teeth. "Occlumency is just closing off your mind. Depending on the person, it can be impossible."
"But people can become experts. Some with very advanced skill can repel veritaserum, or even the imperius curse."
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Ten points to Gryffindor for being such a swot," he said, voice almost near teasing.
Hermione's lips twitched, suppressing a smile.
"Basic occlumency is just clearing your mind. It's like putting a brick wall between you and the legilimens. They know it's there."
"So, how is it done?" Hermione asked, nervous to begin practicing.
"Just like I said, clearing your mind. When those images start trying to flash by your eyes, don't let them. Don't let your emotions rise." Draco shrugged.
Hermione thought on this for a moment, trying to imagine how that could be done. When Theo was using legilimency on her, she'd felt powerless. The idea of taking control of her mind seemed impossible at the time. From Harry's descriptions of Snape's occlumency lessons, he'd felt the same.
"Let me see what it's like, from the other side. I just can't imagine how to do that." Hermione shook her head, annoyed at the inability.
Draco nodded, motioning her with his hand to try. Hermione raised her wand in response, whispering the spell.
Immediately, Hermione understood the term brick wall. Mentally, she could feel herself within Draco's mind, but there was nothing to see. It was like reading a blank piece of parchment. Beginning to grasp the idea, Hermione looked away to break the connection.
Draco's face stayed calm, seemingly unaffected by her intrusion. "I'm going to try on you now. I'll try not to look through your memories like Theo did, but just read your thoughts for a start." His eyes locked on Hermiones', holding her attention. "You have to clear your mind, just try to think nothing at all. Focus on your breathing, if you have to."
Hermione nodded in response, closing her eyes to calm down. "Okay. Let's try."
He spoke the spell, meeting her opened eyes.
The breaching of her faculties was eerily familiar, and Hermione worked to ignore the new presence in her thoughts. Mentally, she pictured a white wall wrapping around her, holding her still. Deep breaths forced in and out of her lungs, but her blood rushed in her ears. Draco's face blurred in front of her, losing center.
Soon her mind began to sway, her thoughts wandering from the blank wall. How well is this working, she wondered.
"Actually very well, until just then," Draco responded aloud.
Hermione scolded herself, annoyed at the failure. "It was working until then though?" At Draco's nod, she continued, "how long did that last, a few minutes?"
"Not nearly," he deadpanned. "Thirty seconds, if that. But it worked – and that's a good sign."
"Thirty seconds," Hermione whispered in exasperation. "Fine," she nodded, her face setting in determination. "Let's try again."
"You have the capability to do it, but you have to have the self-control manage your mind."
Hermione tried not to wonder if he'd ever given such flattery to her magical abilities. Certainly she couldn't recall him saying such things before they began sneaking around.
Draco whispered the spell, catching her eyes once more.
Focus, she reminded herself. Her mind constructed the white wall with ease initially. Roughly she could tell she'd lasted longer than before until intrusive thoughts began to pierce her mind. She nearly began mentally listing shades of white until she remembered, self-control.
White wall. White wall. White wall. White Wall.
Refusing to lose focus, Hermione repeated her mantra on a loop. Narrowing herself down to those words helped maintain the image. If she kept the words locked front and center, she wouldn't have the capacity to think of anything else.
Doing well, she thought.
"Again – until just then, yes." Draco snapped the connection. His arms raised to cross behind his head, pushing them in a stretch. "Nearly five minutes, that was better."
It had felt so much longer in her mind, grueling almost. Her brain was so often buzzing from one idea to the next that she exhausted herself trying to stop it. Hermione couldn't stop herself either from musing on Ron's probability for greatness here.
"Could you hear what I was repeating to myself?"
Draco's calm façade cracked for a moment as he snorted in annoyance. "Bloody hell, of course I could. If that's what keeps your focus though, keep it up. Might as well just annoy the wizard out of your head, they'll already know you're using occlumency."
They continued on this routine for what felt like hours. Hermione made incremental progress each time. She knew this was more progress than could be expected for any other sixth year, but couldn't help striving for better. When her times began plateauing around ten minutes, she could feel herself tiring. Eyelids fluttering, she craned her neck in a stretch. Her elbows on her knees in a chair nearby Draco. Somehow, she knew there would be little more progress this evening. She wasn't quite ready to admit that though – by Merlin, she would reach that eleventh minute!
Lounging again across a potions desk, Draco was beginning to look just as fatigued. A palm raised to rub his eyes, running down the length of his face.
"Once more, and then I'm returning to my dorm for a small coma." Draco sighed, pulling himself up to lean across his lap, hands gripping the desk's edge. Giving her only a moment's breath, he whispered the spell.
Hermione could feel herself slipping from the start. Surely she wouldn't last long, she knew. Thoughts were threatening to break her focus when something flickered in her mind. Memories began to rise, images floating in a haze behind her eyes.
The feeling of being trapped surrounded her again, boxing her in.
She was back to August, hugging her parents at King's Cross. Her mother kissed her cheek, whispering words of encouragement and praise. Her father held her in a silent hug, squeezing her with love. She was walking away, glancing back to see them waving. Her heart tugged both at the thought of missing her parents and returning to Hogwarts.
The image swiped again, and she was back to the Quidditch World Cup. Ron was running beside her, pulling her along. Behind her she heard screaming. She glanced back, her eyes darting frantically for Harry. He wasn't behind her, he wasn't behind her! In front of her, Arthur was squeezing Ginny's hand, dragging her as he counted the running red heads. Fear coursed through her blood. Spells whizzed about and lit up the night somewhere to her left.
Another swipe, and she was walking behind a young Ron and Harry. It was her first year, and she had just left class, heavy books weighted her shoulder. Ahead of her, Ron made snide remarks to Harry, mimicking the so frequent complaints of her earlier years. Her eyes burned, her stomach sank. She pushed ahead of the crowd, caring only to be alone as she hid her red face.
A blur, and then she was in the Gryffindor common room. Harry was close to the fire, arms wrapped loosely around his raised knees. The cool air was pushed back only by the fire's warm glow soaking over her skin. She sat in the couch close by, Ron's arm slung behind her back. A bumbling noise sounded out from the entryway portrait, and the trio turned to see Dean and Seamus falling over each other, bubbling with dazed laughter. Ron leaned into her, already laughing in amusement, reaching close to her ear to whisper –
The connection broke.
Her heart was pounding, beating against her chest. Arms raised to cross over her front, shielding herself. Her breathing quickened, mouth opening in shock. The trapped feeling was ebbing away but her fear materialized in waves.
"Why," she whispered, "why would you?"
Theo's invasion had been terrifying and invasive, but Draco's had felt like betrayal. Those memories were so personal. Her mind, her soul, was bared before him without even the choice.
"I didn't – it doesn't –" Draco stuttered, pushing himself off the desk, suddenly wide awake.
The rooms darkness forced an intimacy that Hermione almost couldn't stomach. Draco had already seen so much of her life, and now, he'd seen two of her most painful memories, of her loved ones.
"You knew how much Theo had scared me."
"I wasn't trying to see those. It doesn't work like that." Draco shook his head, stepping forward. His hands came out toward her, palms facing forward. "My mind just slipped."
Hermione shook her head, leaning back away from him.
"Keeping in the front of your mind like I've been, that takes focus too," he tried explaining. "I wasn't looking to see anything."
Her throat was drying as air sped in and out of her lungs. She tried forcing her breathing to slow, forcing herself calm. "You didn't stop yourself, you could have stopped."
"I couldn't – it takes a second." He moved forward again, only a few deliberate steps away from meeting her. "Once I realized what was – "
"It's like riding a broom, isn't that what you said? That you can steer?" She shook her head, "steer your way out of my mind!"
Draco was right in front of her now. "I did steer. I got out when I could." The words were spoken earnestly, forcing their way beyond her boundaries. Her heartbeat was finally beginning to slow, the red lightening from her face.
"I need – just, some time." She whispered, standing from the chair. "It's late. I have to go." Hermione looked up into his face. He looked gaunt. Darkness pooled under his eyes, contrasting his pale skin. The usual aura of power and strength that radiated from his being was dulled with fatigue.
Her had raised halfway, nearly laying on his forearm. "I have to go." She repeated, shaking her head. Stepping backwards, she turned around, walking toward the door, out of the classroom, and away from the dungeons.
Hermione didn't want to, she didn't, but she believed him.
Author's Note: I was so enthralled by the response received for chapter nine! Things are certainly heating up for Hermione, and I'm so excited to watch everyone's reactions as her story unfolds. Thanks to each and every reader, reviewer, and follower - I hope you enjoy this chapter!