Chapter 13:
Hermione avoided him like dragon pox all weekend, and though he knew she had a big test the next week, he suspected that wasn't the reason. As usual, she was early to Potions on Monday morning so he slid into the seat next to her, gesturing for Theo and Daphne to go sit together instead of with their usual partners. Obviously the two of them were more than happy with that agreement. She had her hair down, covering her face as she leaned over a piece of parchment and scribbled illegibly on it. Her handwriting was horrific. He was surprised she hadn't gotten Trolls for her O.W.L's just because the examiner gave up marking it! He staged a cough, but she continued to write. "Look, it may have been a bit immature," he conceded. "But I was trying to help a mate out. Blaise has been obsessing over Weaselettte for weeks." Her face was still hidden. "Why does this bother you so much?"
Her head snapped up. "Because, I thought you'd been putting on an act on all these years and I was finally getting to know the real you. But as it turns out you're just the same immature git you've always been."
His eyes narrowed angrily. "That's not fair. I've changed a lot, but it doesn't mean I have to glower alone in the dark constantly and can't ever have any fun with my friends." As Slughorn entered the room and strolled down the aisle jovially he lowered his voice a little. "What you said the other night was right. We would never have gotten close had the truth not come out. But that doesn't mean I never wanted to," his voice lowered even further as he muttered under his breath, "a fact Pansy has recently alerted me too." She seemed intrigued by this, but Slughorn had started talking. He glanced down at her parchment and realised it was titled 'Dear Harry', and that the letters were even spikier than usual. "That wasn't the part of the plan was it?"
She crumpled it up into a ball before he could read the rest. "Muggles sometimes do this thing where they write letters and then throw them in the fire instead of sending them. It's supposed to be therapeutic but I don't feel any better yet. Maybe I will once it's ash."
"Maybe you will once Potter's ash," he suggested alternatively in a whisper. Taking out his quill, he sketched a hybrid with the arse or well, an ass, and the head of a turkey, with big circular glasses and a jagged lightning scar on its forehead. He slid it across the table to Hermione and their hands touched briefly; it felt like an electric shock. Sniggering, Hermione tried to cover it up with a choking cough as Slughorn noticed and approached, concerned. The blond patted her back and made an excuse to the anxious professor for her, a small smirk on his face that he could evoke such a response.
It was such a rare lovely day that Ginny dragged Hermione outside after school to sunbathe by the lake. Well, she sunbathed. Hermione studied. Both were distracted. "GERONIMO!" paired with a tidal wave that splashed them, jarring them out of their respective activities and had them both scrambling backwards in horror!
"Merlin's beard Zabini," Ginny shook herself off like a dog. "How can you be such a twit? Did you get dropped on your head as a child? There's a reason going into that lake was a challenge for the Triwizard Tournament- it's a death trap! There's mermaids, the giant squid and who knows what else!"
"But it's so refreshing!" Exclaimed Blaise as he lay on his back as if the soaked ground was an armchair.
Hermione turned around to see Draco behind her with his arms crossed and a mildly amused expression- which rapidly changed to disgust. "Another game of truth or dare?"
Morally outraged, he declared "never! I profusely discouraged this."
"Mm-hm," She mirrored his expression with her own folded arms and mimicked his casual stance.
"No, no, no!" Hermione spun back around as she heard her friend's screams. Blaise had crawled out of the lake and pushed Ginny in, jumping in right after her with a triumphant cackle.
Feeling his approach from behind her, Hermione warned Draco that if he did the same she would get her mother to castrate him. Evidently, it was a prospect even more terrifying than Voldemort as he shivered, but whispered into her ear, "actually, I was sent by my father to inform you that some gormless fanatic of a Ministry worker made the mistake of attempting a sermon to a group of wizards firmly on Team Hermione. They'd seen his poster, wanted: dead or alive, and decided to go with the former."
Hermione nodded, watching the two in the lake splash each other ferociously. "I hope they made him suffer."
"Oh," Draco chuckled darkly. "I did say they were Team Hermione. They ensured that the biggest victim in the Wizarding World since the Boy Who Lived got her justice."
"Excellent," she smirked. "Did your father mention any progress with the dementor situation? Mine has been less than forthcoming."
Draco shook his head. "The investigation is still ongoing. There is only a limited amount of people high enough to have access though, don't worry."
"I'm not worried." Ginny had finally managed to get back up onto the grass and was continuing to berate Blaise in her drenched state, but Hermione's focus was on the sky. The appearance of a jet black owl against the deep blue signified that she'd been right to trust Voldemort to handle this. It swooped up to the Owlry and she followed behind it, with only a brief wiggle of her fingers to the ginger girl.
Up in the tower Hermione fed her father's owl a quick treat and then unwound the letter tied to his leg.
My darling,
After an intense investigation it appears that one of the aurors handling a case involved with the criminal department had access to dementors and sent it after you. However he has an airtight alibi for the time when you were targeted so Lucius and I suspect that there is a mole at Hogwarts who told him when you left and has been informing them on other information about you. Shacklebolt is currently still free and unaware that we know the truth about him. We will await your decision on how to deal with him but for the man who directly tried to drain your soul, I must advocate oblivion.
Watch out for a traitor,
Your father.
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and tutted disapprovingly as she folded the letter back up and said, without turning around. "I had such hopes for our friendship Ginevra."
Behind her, a magically dried Ginny said, "I had hopes too. I thought I might be able to maintain the ruse long enough to get more information out of you than the obvious: that being that you're head over heels for the ferret." Watching her true disgust rear its head Hermione felt as though Ron was spitting at her feet all over again. But this time she didn't feel self pity or guilt. Just fury. "Maybe I would have that night if we hadn't been interrupted by your boyfriend and his dense dickhead crew."
"Dense people are the ones who don't think to bring back up," said a deep, pained voice in the shadows. Ginny's face briefly contorted in confusion before she was thrown to the floor by Blaise's curse.
Hermione frowned sympathetically at him. Clearly it wasn't just attraction; he'd really felt something for Ginny. She felt the same sinking disappointment. That was the last one of her friends gone. Her last hope for a continued friendship. The last piece of the girl who'd been Hermione Granger. It was high time to absolutely embrace the Riddle within.
Dun dun dun!