The Secret

Part One: Pretense

Chapter Twelve

by: dee-dee142


Mr. Weasley called them all to the headquarters close to midnight. They waited in the common room until the older members were requested in the dining room, leaving the new generation to entertain themselves.

Malfoy, Blaise and Pansy sat on the couch furthest away from everyone else, too preoccupied with their own thoughts to speak to the other. Ron, Ginny and the twins were off in a corner with a chess board sitting between them. Harry, who was sitting beside Hermione, kept glancing at them furtively and fidgeting in his seat, obviously very uncomfortable about being the middleman.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why don't you head inside with the Weasleys—I'll meet you in a bit?"

What looked to be relief flashed across his eyes. Harry grinned. "You know what to do. If they have changed, this should be easy." He kissed the top of her head, whispered good luck and pulled everyone but the Slytherins through the doors.

When they were gone, Hermione turned to the uncomfortable trio just to find Draco's eyes already trained on her. She raised an eyebrow at him in response and as she made her way over to them, a frown grew on his face.

"Back to us now Granger?" He sneered.

Pansy nudged him hard. "Shut it Draco. Don't be jealous Hermione has more friends than you." Malfoy gave her a look, while Blaise stayed uncharacteristically silent so Hermione plopped herself between him and Pansy.

"What's wrong bro?" She teased. His mouth twitched but the frown remained. Sensing something bad happened, Hermione turned to Pansy. "What happened with Tonks?"

Malfoy performed a quick privacy bubble. Pansy took a deep breath and began picking at her nail polish, "She basically told me that there's a possibility that my father—might-that Voldemort—"

"Mr. Parkinson hasn't been seen in the last six days…There's a possibility that Voldemort might've killed him already." Blaise finished for her. His worried expression was fixated on Pansy, which remained unreadable.

"But I thought you wanted Voldemort to—"

She laughed with no humor. "I didn't mean it Granger; it was naive of you to believe me."

"You sounded very convincing." Hermione defended.

"I know!" Pansy shrieked, startling everyone. She took another deep breath to calm herself. "I know. I did and it was foolish of me. I guess I saw that possibility but didn't actually think it would…I'm just..." she trailed off, her eyes wide with thought and panic.

Hermione wanted to comfort her but hesitated. None of them looked like they like to be physically comforted when emotional, so she kept her hands to herself.

"B-but its all speculation." Pansy eventually continued. "There's the possibility that he's just hiding out in the Manor or our summer home in France, or our vacation home in Greece... My father's death would've been all over the Prophet if he was in fact murdered..." She smiled sadly, but Hermione saw something in saw in her eyes—she was already mourning the loss of her father, dead or alive. Whether Mr. Parkinson was dead or alive, and Pansy did win her case and got away with it all, in his eyes she would be good as dead. Pansy had finally come to terms with that.

"So, what now? Is someone going to check the manor?"

"Yes, a week from now. They need me to go because I'll have access to the wards, but I'll be under the protection of aurors."

Malfoy snorted. "You don't need assistance of aurors, I can easily accompany you. Your father knows me. If you bring aurors and he'll think he's being attacked."

"I appreciate your support Draco, but considering your circumstances, that wouldn't be the best idea." Pansy reached to pat his hand and he looked away from her, dissatisfied.

"I think it would be best if I accompany you Pans. I mean, your dad knows I'm, you know…he'll be more trusting." Blaise volunteered, although he sounded hesitant.

"Maybe…" Pansy replied. "I'll talk to Tonks about it. But if you're going to start working with the Order, you'll have to be prepared to sacrifice yourself for these people Blaise…you'll have to join this cause…our side." She reached to hold Hermione's hand, confirming that she was indeed picking a side. The light side. She was choosing to fight against her father.

Hermione finally understood why it was so hard for them to choose the Order; switching sides meant going against everything they were raised to believe in. To go against their family, friends and loved ones.

There was no returning from it.

Hermione sat up straighter. This was her queue. "I know this is hard for all of you. But I need to know where your loyalties stand. Cantrell will be working with the Order and I will not allow for him, myself or anyone else in this house to be put in danger due to your inability to choose a side. I need to know you aren't a follower of Voldemort nor his ideologies." She said, her eyes moving from Blaise, to Pansy and finally to Malfoy, who didn't appear to be acknowledging her but she was knew he was listening. "Before we go into that meeting, they are going to ask me where the three of you stand…and I will have to give them an answer."

Pansy gave her hand a firm squeeze, "I'm in."

Malfoy's unreadable gray eyes met hers. "I'm in." He said easily, as if she just asked him to play a game of quidditch. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he was already helping the order. With what exactly? He proved to her earlier that day that he wasn't a Death Eater so a spy was out of the question. Whatever it was that he was doing with Dumbledore, she would surely find out.

Turning away from Malfoy, Hermione looked expectedly at Blaise, who had his head in his hands. "Blaise, you can help us. You would just need proper guidance and training. I am sure Cantrell will help you."

"I'll help you." Malfoy said, with finality in his voice. Blaise peered at him through his fingers, then glanced at Pansy's and Hermione's joined hands. She watched his eyes hardened and he sat up. "I'm in." Blaise said confidently. "You guys are all I have left… I'll fight for you. I'll fight with you."

Pansy shrieked gleefully and pulled the both of them in a bone crushing group hug. Hermione found herself laughing, relief washing over her.

"Get in here Draco!"

Malfoy gave them a disgusted look, "No thanks."

Just then the door opened up and Lupin stood at the door, his eyes seeking affirmation from Hermione.

Hermione grinned. "We're ready, Professor."


Most of the Order was present at the table: Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore, Cantrell, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, Lupin and couple other new and old members. Hermione found herself surprised at the amount of people in the room. She didn't know they had so many followers; so many brave and trusting individuals united to fight the same cause. But her sense of pride quickly dissipated as she caught wind of the whispers being mumbled around Cantrell and Blaise. She felt the distrust, confusion and animosity all at once.

"Now that we are all present I would like to welcome back Ms. Hermione Granger. We are all very glad that you have returned to us, safe and sound." Dumbledore stated with a smile. "And as you all can see, we have new members with us today that will be working with us on various issues. Please join me in welcoming Ms. Pansy Parkinson, Mr. Blaise Zabini and I would like to give a formal welcome to Mr. Draco Malfoy." There was less clapping and more whispers. "Lastly, I would like to welcome back Mr. Alexandros Cantrell." Cantrell smiled politely, even as his welcome was met with hostility.

"Imposter!"

"How is he alive?"

"A lie! Voldemort killed him!"

"Dumbledore, before a riot begins, tell us why he is back." Everyone turned to look at Kingsley, who was silently observing Cantrell. His gaze then moved to Hermione and Blaise. Very quickly, understanding flashed behind his eyes.

"Good question Kingsley. Alexandros-"

"I've got it Albus, thank you." Cantrell said with finality. Dumbledore remained silent. Whatever they discussed in their absence did nothing to mend their relationship. Dumbledore conceded and gave Cantrell the floor.

"The older generation knows me enough, so I guess this introduction should serve more for the new, and indeed surprisingly younger, members." He glanced over at Harry, an easy smile on his face. A charming smile. Hermione stared at him, just as shocked as everyone else. Who was this man? How did he manage to hide his pain so well? So easily. "My name is Alexandros Bryant Cantrell. Heir to the Ancient and Nobel House of Cantrell, founding family of the International Confederation of Wizards, MACUSA and Secondary Seat holder to the Magical Ministries in Cairo and Burkinabe." His introduction alone was enough to silence the room. "My family has come from a long line distinguished witches and wizards. We have been respected and admired in the Wizarding World for many centuries, something I will always be proud to say." Cantrell walked around the wide table and Hermione couldn't help but observe how people moved a step back when he passed them; their eyes full admiration, respect and even fear.

"You're not answering Kingsley's question Cantrell." Moody grunted from his corner. "Why are you back? Actually, us more curious folks would like to know how you're back." Cantrell didn't say a word as he finished making his way around the table, stopping behind Hermione and Blaise.

She knew what was coming but couldn't help but feel anxious and uncomfortable with the sudden attention on her. Cantrell was going to tell a room full of Order members-her friends and family- that she wasn't Hermione Granger. He was going to tell them that she was Isobella Cantrell, heiress the most powerful and respected family in the Wizarding World. An heiress. Practically a princess. Insecurity and doubt filled her thoughts. She almost jumped up to tell Cantrell to stop but fear kept her rooted in her seat. In efforts to not look intimidated by the attention, she looked up to find, for the third time that day, the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy staring back at her, poised and calm. She found herself grabbing on to the tranquility he alluded, wrapping herself in it to calm her own nerves, never once letting go of his gaze.

And it worked. Her nerves settled. Her shoulders relaxed. Malfoy made a motion with his head, silently telling her to lift her chin up and she obliged, oddly finding confidence in his support.

"Sixteen years ago I was declared dead by Voldemort but he never actually killed me. He cursed and cast me in an isolated prison, leaving me to die. Luckily, a year ago I escaped the prison like isolation he had cursed me to, with Dumbledore's help. He found me, you see." So this was the lie they were going to tell everyone? "I've spent the last year regaining my strength, mind and magic. I intended to stay out of the public eye but then I was informed that the adoptive parents of my children were murdered... and now I am here." Hermione watched as each Order member put the pieces together. Their eyes glided from Cantrell, to her, then Blaise and back to her again. Ron's wide eyes caught hers—they practically screamed, what the fuck?!

"So to answer your question Kingsley, I am back for my for my family; Isobelle and Nathanial. You may also know them as Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini." A mix of disbelief and realization stilled the room for a good three minutes before people came to their senses and shouts of questions and accusations roared from all corners. Many different emotions spewed into the air, and they all slammed into her in unrelenting force. It pushed and teared at her core, at her magic, and a piercing pain started from her head then swooped down to her stomach, forcing her to close her eyes at the discomfort.

But as soon as it came, it was gone when a hand rest on her shoulder. Silence resonated around her and the pain was gone. No pressure, only pure silence. Hermione looked at Cantrell and found it was his hand on her shoulder.

"How is that possible?!"

"Dark Magic! Dark Magic!"

"Lies!"

"How do we know he's not an imposter?"

"He comes back from the dead and now this?! Lies!"

She met Blaise's eye and practically read his mind; I want to leave.

Cantrell opened his mouth to address them and the room fell back into silence, "It is getting late and we have had a long day. I will not, we will not, entertain ill-mannered and imprudent thoughts." His tone was angry, yet controlled and authoritative. "The Order of Phoenix has always been known as a united and trusting organization, with strong, smart and brave individuals. As someone who assisted a lot of you and lost a great amount in the first war—I am asking you to please respect my wishes and keep what I shared with you amongst yourselves. If word gets out, trust me, I will know and you will suffer the consequences." He warned them. "Goodnight to you all."

Malfoy and Pansy quickly rose from their seats as Cantrell took his hand off her shoulder and politely pulled out her chair, beckoning her and Blaise to make their way toward the exit. They left behind a room of ashamed eyes and confused whispers.


Once they returned to the cottage, Hermione raced to her bedroom not wanting to be bothered. But that didn't last very long. Half an hour later, Pansy knocked at her door.

"Can I come in?" She asked. She stood at her doorway, her hair piled up in a messy bun at the top of her head, an innocent smile on her face in a pair of oversized pajamas, which made her look very small. So opposite of the loud, authoritative, talkative and sometimes overbearing witch she had grown to know. Hermione wondered how she could look so unaffected by everything that was happening to her—everything that had happened to her—the orchestrated death of her mother, almost being sold for marriage, and now her missing father. "It's too quiet in my room... I could do with some company." Pansy explained as she sat at the end of her bed.

"Help yourself." Hermione threw her a pillow and she fixed a space for herself to lay down. Hermione at the head of her bed and Pansy at the foot.

After a peaceful silence Hermione spoke up, "Pansy, how do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Well, with everything going on with your dad and after your mother ... How is your spirit still so strong? One look at you, and one would never suspect..." After a beat of silence, Hermione bit her lip, "you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Pansy sighed deeply. "It's simple—I am my mother's daughter." She sounded spiteful, so Hermione waited for an explanation. "I—she was hard on me, to say the least, but I did love her. I was devastated when she died." She ended with a whisper.

"I'm sorry." Was all Hermione could think to reply.

"Compared to you, my strength is nothing." Pansy admitted. "You've always been strong. Strong, and brave and intelligent. My strength is nothing compared to yours." She repeated.

They settled into a more comfortable silence. The moonlight coming through the window created a beautiful, yet subtle glow in the room. Hermione wondered if the spirits of her parents and Pansy's mother were with them at that very moment.

"I have another question," Hermione hesitated.

"I don't know how many of these heart-to-hearts I can take for one night Granger-"

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No it's not about that, it's about Malfoy." It has been nagging her all day. At the meeting so much has been said and unsaid—there was so much mystery surrounding his role not only in the Order but the cottage as well. What was the real reason he was staying with Cantrell? And why was Dumbledore working so closely with him?

"What do you want to know? He's seventeen, a Slytherin; He's been single since forever. He's a loner, mysterious but once you get to know him—'

"NO! No, Pansy not that way. Never would it be that way."

Pansy sat up on her elbows and looked at Hermione with suspicious eyes. "Well it didn't seem that way when you two locked eyes back at the Order."

"You caught that?" She asked in disbelief.

"I would be surprised if there was anyone in the room who didn't catch that...it was intense." She paused. "If I didn't know you well enough, I would think — actually I don't know you well enough so maybe —"

Hermione scuffed, "I remove my question from the offering table. Can we change the subject now?"

"Fine… but I honestly think you and Draco would make a great—"

Hermione gagged and Pansy slapped her leg, laughing at her reaction.

"Enough of the theatrics Granger."

"As soon as you stop talking about things that give me nightmares."