Tuesday, November 19, 1996
There were only three girls left on Hermione's Honeysuckle Possibilities list, and only one on Draco's. She'd been making steady progress since the search started a few weeks ago. It had only been a few days since she'd checked off a seventh year Ravenclaw, Arabella Alcott, who's interest in Arithmancy research heavily outweighed that of wizards.
Hermione knew that one of the remaining names could surely be the one, but – she was nervous. Only two pureblood girls were left. In time, Hermione had replayed each conversation and eventually begun to doubt herself. Had she possibly overlooked some clue? Had she read too far and ruled out the right girl – with Honeysuckle standing right in front of her?
Draco was still dead set that Lisa Turpin was Blaise's girl, and Hermione couldn't convince him otherwise. Ideally, Hermione could find undeniable proof of Blaise's actual girlfriend and Draco would just believe her, but that was unlikely. It seemed that Draco would need rock solid evidence from Turpin herself before he would consider anyone else.
He's illogical, Hermione thought, shaking her head. They both knew Turpin was a muggleborn, and he just refused to see reason! As though Draco had just forgotten centuries of prejudice and class divides – Hermione wouldn't forget herself so quickly.
She'd done the readings on pureblood aristocracy. She'd seen the sneers in Diagon Alley. She'd heard the insults these very boys had tossed around the halls, mirth shining in their eyes. Hermione knew better, and she wasn't letting Draco's shortsighted conclusions throw her off.
So Hermione hadn't exactly been ignoring Turpin as a possibility, but she certainly wasn't tracking her down for answers. The girl was a dead end, and Hermione had better things to focus on.
It would be nice to prove Draco wrong though. She wouldn't lift her nose at an opportunity.
It was early evening when Hermione was walking back from the Black Lake, book in hand. The previous hour had been spent in a favored spot of hers, reading under a tree with the sounds of water lapping nearby. Hermione had needed to shut off her mind for a while, step away from everything. It was a chill evening. She'd yet to see another student walking the grounds. So, even though her mind was still wrapped up with the words she'd just read, her eyes snapped to a small figure exiting the castle.
Hermione continued her trek, watching as the female figure quickly materialized in the distance. Billowing robes, brown hair, short stature, blue tie.
Squinting, she tried making out any features. The girl almost looked like she was old enough to be in Hermione's year. Her hair whipped in the light breeze, revealing her small face –
Lisa Turpin!
Well – proving Draco wrong wasn't at the top of her to-do list this evening, but how was she to turn down such a chance?
Hermione slowed her step, trying to keep her eyes off Lisa's advancing form. She wanted to feel inconspicuous, surreptitious. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the other girl's hurried steps, waiting until they were close enough. When Lisa was close to passing her, Hermione raised her head to meet shiny eyes.
"Lisa?" Hermione stopped walking, facing her head on. "Oh my – is everything okay?"
Lisa took a shuddering breath and stopped. Her shoulders were quivering and her head was turned, refusing to meet Hermione's gaze.
"Oh, uh," Lisa raised her eyes. "Hermione."
She nodded and began to walk past Hermione again.
"Lisa," Hermione put a hand on her arm, hoping to keep her from leaving. "Is everything okay?"
Feeling like an intruder, Hermione watched as Lisa tried to collect herself. She was still faced away, looking off into the Black Lake. After a few seconds her shoulders slumped and a hand raised to wipe tears from her face. Lisa turned back looking flushed and tight lipped.
"I'm just," she paused. "I'm just stressed." Lisa gave a watery smile, undoubtedly faked.
Hermione couldn't decide what to say, and was silent for a moment in thought. The emotion was clear across Lisa's face.
"Well, I'm certainly familiar with the feeling." Hermione glanced at the castle quickly, wanting to make sure no one was coming. "Do you want to talk?"
"Oh, no." Lisa shook her head. "No, I'm sure you're busy, I'll be fine." As if to deny her own point, Lisa's hand raised to wipe another tear with the hem of her robes.
Hermione smiled, trying to look thoughtful and open. "I've got time, really. I was just out here reading." She raised the book in her hand as evidence.
"Are you sure, really?"
"Of course," Hermione nodded. Even though she was confident Lisa wasn't Honeysuckle, she still wanted to make sure the other girl was okay. Lisa was so rarely someone Hermione had taken notice of, but she'd always seemed so collected. Once again Hermione was reminded of the vast lives at Hogwarts that never crossed her mind. If she was as stressed as she said – well, good thing Hermione knew a lot about time management.
Lisa agreed, and Hermione led her back to the spot by the lake.
They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione couldn't be sure what to say. Lisa was still collecting herself, taking deep breaths and wiping tears.
When the silence was growing tiresome for Hermione, she looked back to Lisa. "So what's stressing you? Is it exams, friends, family?"
Lisa shook her head a bit, still not meeting Hermione's eyes.
"I can't – " Lisa took a deep breath. "Things have just been piling up lately and I can't stop it. There's nothing I can do."
"What's been piling up?"
"It's been a few things, and," Lisa paused again. "And m – my boyfriend, he – " Lisa cut herself off again, sealing her lips with a firm shake of the head. "I can't talk to my friends, and they can tell something is wrong – I just can't do anything! They don't understand, and they're pulling away – everyone's pulling away. I'm failing and there's nothing I can do about it!"
Tears welled again in Lisa's eyes, spilling with abandon.
"Lisa, you can talk to me. I can be impartial." Hermione furrowed her brow, hoping she looked comforting. "Everyone needs someone to talk to."
"No – I, I cant tell anyone. I just want a break."
"I can try to help you Lisa, I can." At Lisa's firm shake of her head, Hermione continued. "I wont tell anyone, you know that."
By now Hermione was intrigued. Something was clearly going on with this boyfriend. Blaise or not, Hermione wanted to make sure Lisa was okay. Wizards could cause hurt in ways other than going missing.
If it was Blaise though, and Draco was right, Hermione was going to be pissed.
They went back and forth a few more times as Hermione tried to coax an answer from Lisa. Whatever it was clearly weighed on the witch. So determined to keep the secret, it was a couple minutes before she finally acquiesced.
"I'm drowning – choking, and there's nothing I can do." Lisa looked at Hermione, fear shining in her teary eyes. "Are you sure? It's just – Hermione, this needs to stay between us, like really between us."
Hermione nodded. "Of course, yes. This doesn't leave my lips."
Lisa's shoulders shuddered with the weight of another shaky breath. After looking around once more, confirming that they were alone, the girl rested her tearful gaze on Hermione.
Given the circumstance, Hermione was growing concerned for Lisa's safety. What could make her so afraid? This was the tone she'd reserved for common room nights with Ron and Harry, long after everyone had gone to sleep. This was the tone she'd shared with Draco after Theo had flayed open her mind, out of sheer desperation for comfort. This wasn't a tone Hermione took lightly.
"Some of the Slytherins, some of the other students, they're death eaters." The grave look on Lisa's face kept Hermione from deflating in defeat. Was this it? Hermione had been struggling with that news all term. It wasn't exactly groundbreaking.
"How do you know that?"
"My boyfriend told me about it, and he – I really believe him."
"Your boyfriend?"
"That's – that's the other thing. You know how Blaise is – " Lisa paused, holding back tears. "He's missing, right?"
Hermione nodded, unforgettably aware of this information.
"I was, well – he was – "
"Lisa."
"He's my boyfriend."
Now, that was news.
When Hermione walked Lisa back to the castle nearly an hour later, her mind was hazy with too many swirling thoughts. After a long and enlightening discussion, Hermione had made it clear that Lisa could find her to talk anytime she wanted.
Hermione wished she had someone to talk to as well. Lisa's confession was shaking her understanding of the world. Her mind was at war with this new revelation, and she just couldn't rationalize it.
Draco had been right. Lisa Turpin, a muggleborn, was Honeysuckle. Against all odds, and even logic itself, Draco had been right.
It was – well it was bloody ridiculous! She felt cheated by her own mind. How could she have been so stubbornly resolute? Theo had said something about the girl being unsuitable, didn't he? Theo had told her, and she'd ignored him. Why hadn't she taken that clue when it came? It was as though her mind had selectively chosen to disregard that information. It was illogical when paired with all her experience in the wizarding world this far, and therefore – unimportant.
If Lisa hadn't been so completely overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty, Hermione might have disregarded her confession as well. Instead, she had sympathized. The space between the Slytherin dungeons and the rest of Hogwarts was widening into an impassable chasm, and Lisa had found herself torn between two cliffs. Hermione was growing familiar with that feeling – of being split.
Certainly her and Draco were different, but she had begun to see him in a new light. She had begun to see him as a person.
They had even had this conversation – hadn't they? Hermione had said something about knobs, absolutely adamant that Blaise wouldn't stray from the pureblood flock. And Draco, unlike her, able to trust his own brain, had been adamant that they shouldn't be so sure. Managing one's emotions is a tricky business.
Every pureblood elitist in Hogwarts was practically flashing a neon sign saying it was possible, and Hermione had just ignored each one. She had become so entrenched in Harry's world of black and white that she'd forgotten to see the grey.
Life was grey. Love was grey. War was grey.
Maybe she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, but surely it was possible that the indoctrinated could overcome their purism?
Her and Draco weren't in love by any stretch, but he had warmed to her, a muggleborn. That wretched mark was seared on his arm, but he still wrapped it around her in bed.
But Blaise didn't have that mark. Not if Lisa was to be believed.
His indoctrination had apparently been less fervent.
And, well, that made sense. Theo, Goyle, Pansy – they knew what he was doing behind closed doors, and he was being punished for it. Purism was alive and well, whether one rich boy strayed from the dungeons or not.
Class structure still existed. Purism still existed. Voldemort still existed.
But they had been defied, and Hermione hadn't been able to wrap her mind around it. It just hadn't fit.
She was a logical person. She liked empirical evidence and proof and structure and realism. Her devotion to practicality had blinded her to something Draco Malfoy had been able to see.
It was an unsettling thought.
Was a death eater more willing to believe in the power of love than her? Was a boy raised in the burn of hatred and bigotry at his fellow wizards able to better see the good in people than her?
Draco Malfoy had wished her to die; had thrown slurs like knives; had hated her for something as mere as her birth. Yet, Draco Malfoy could see the bridge between good and evil, and she could not.
Hermione would just have to rethink some things. Yes, that was it. She would have to reconsider a few details of the world. Things just weren't as stark as she thought. Maybe not everything was black and white.
Maybe two people could cross that divide if they really tried.
Thursday, November 21, 1996
"Pretty soon you'll be downright good at that."
"I've never not been good at it. I'm afraid you're mistaken."
"Unless you're performing it on yourself, your input doesn't matter."
"I'm just saying, you always give me an O."
Hermione scoffed, turning her head to the side, allowing him the sight of her indignance. Locks of brown hair swept over her shoulder, and Draco knew they were gentler than they looked.
"I take what I can get."
Draco rolled onto his side, propping his head with one cocked arm. The soft sheet slipped from his chest, revealing his skin once more to the girl resting beside him.
Hermione had been trying to get him alone for a couple days now, but Theo's warning had left Draco's mind fogged with fear and uncertainty all week. He hadn't quite decided what he was going to do.
Theo was probably right. Draco should stop seeing Hermione and save himself the trouble. Somehow though, she had grown to become a trouble he didn't mind. The whole situation made his throat swollen and chest heavy. Maintaining a public relationship with her seemed impossible, but for some reason, telling her to leave wasn't an option either.
What was there to do? He wanted to keep seeing her, to keep hearing about her petty annoyances and watching her face flush at the excitement of some clue, but he couldn't see an option that didn't involve the death of someone he loved. What an idiot he had become – running his fingers along fire and begging not to be burnt.
The two of them had grown complacent in their hidden indiscretion, but things were a hairsbreadth away from tumbling. Seeing her peaceful expression, Draco found himself envying her. Hermione didn't know what was coming. She hadn't harbored that weight as he had.
Draco wanted to be selfish for just a while longer. His stomach rolled at the thought of telling Hermione what to expect in the morning, but he had no choice. Hermione wasn't likely risking death as he was, but Draco knew she would face backlash just as well. Mere hours were left until they wouldn't have their bubble of secret deviance and respite, and Draco wanted to savor what remained.
"Yes," he mused, his other hand moving to rest flat on the plane between Hermione's hips. "You do seem to take very well." His hand slipped slowly lower, reveling in the peachy soft skin there.
Hermione's lips parted in a puff of air as his fingers dropped low enough. Draco watched her head push toward him ever so slightly. He felt the soft brush of her hair against his cheek. He felt her hot mouth reach his skin. He felt his blood quicken to her bared teeth pressing against his shoulder.
Draco quickened his fingers and smiled. Hermione's lack of rebuttal was the closest he would ever get to a concession. Stuttered breaths surrounded a small whine right below his ear. Draco dropped his mouth to her stretched neck, feeling the heavy blush there.
Nipping her soft skin, Draco could too easily image that she tasted like freedom – like rebellion from the life laid before him. Kissing Hermione was exactly the wrong thing to do, but it felt too right to stop.
"Ah – wait," she stammered. "I – I have news." Her teeth bit a wide mark into his shoulder, and Draco mournfully returned his hand to her hip. Hermione continued, "Honeysuckle. I know who she is, I talked to her."
Draco whipped his eyes to hers at the words.
"You talked to her?" He sat up in his bed, resting his back against the still-warm pillows. "And you're just now sharing this with me, almost an hour after getting here?" Draco knit his brows in annoyance. "It's Lisa – isn't it?"
Hermione raised herself to sit aside him. "Yes, well. We've been otherwise engaged for all but thirty seconds since I arrived." Turning to face him, she rested her bare legs across his and pulled the thin sheet across her lap.
Draco watched in silence, waiting with impatience clear on his face.
"Yes – Blaise was dating Lisa." Hermione held her chin up at the admittance. She narrowed her eyes and dared a challenge, but all Draco gave in return was a smug grin.
"Anyways, I talked to her. She was just – terrified for Blaise."
"Does she know what happened? I must admit, I tend to fear murder as well."
"That was the thing! She was so sure he's coming back. I asked her why she wasn't telling anyone and she just kept saying she didn't want him returning to that."
"Returning to what?"
"To everyone know – here, Draco." Hermione reached aside them to find his wand, and he immediately snapped it from her reach.
"Excuse me," Draco whispered, eyes wide as he gripped the wand.
Holding another wizard's wand was an incredibly intimate thing, and Draco wasn't ready to let anyone have that kind of power over him.
"Calm down, Draco. Just look at my memory of talking to her, this is going to take too long."
But that – that was intimate too.
It seemed drawing lines with Hermione was becoming an impossible task. Wands seemed like a minimal risk when he remembered how much of their minds they'd shared with one another. She'd let him in, if accidentally, and he had seen the crushing fears and overwhelming joys that had marked time in her life. He'd shown her, if under duress, some of his most painful anguishes.
Maybe he could have toed the Slytherin line and revealed less when she demanded those moments, but he hadn't. She had demanded personal and painful, and he'd given her just that. If anything, Draco had learned with Hermione that it was easier to just give her what she wanted. It was infuriating and futile to try denying her when she knew she was right. So he'd shown her the two people in his life who'd hurt him the most; Pansy and Lucius. His closest friend and his father.
His father's actions were par for the course in any family like his, but that moment with Pansy was a calculated reveal. He'd chopped the memory up a bit, blurred some of what Pansy had truly said, but the gist had been clear enough. Pansy had stripped him of any childish notions of grandeur. The one person he'd counted as a confidante had taken him to task, no holds barred, and had been largely right.
Hermione knew things about him that his oldest friends might struggle to connect.
It felt as though Draco's tongue seemed to swell in his mouth.
She had reached for his wand so he could hold it against her. Hermione was trusting him – purposefully opening up her mind to him. Boulders sat on his chest, compressing his lungs. The words slipped in an instant. Holding them back wasn't an option.
"Actually – Hermione, I talked to Theo the other day."
Her spine straightened, pulling her shoulders back. Her eyes were bright and searching, torn between hope and fear. "You what? What did he say?"
"That the thing – Hermione." Something was lodged heavy in his throat. Draco shook his head and tried to cough, unable to wholly meet her eyes. "Theo told me he knows about us, and he's going to tell the school."
"He – he what?" She seemed to shrink into herself. Her shoulders dropped. Her knees lifted off his. Her face fell. "He's going to –"
"I think it'll happen in the morning. In the Free Press."
"In the morning?" Hermione took a shuddering breath. In one quick, instinctual movement, Hermione's forehead fell against his chest, her arms clutching him. "Oh, God."
Draco wanted to detach from the moment. He wanted to have an out of body experience and just float away, leaving his corporeal being to handle this without him.
That didn't seem to be an option.
His arms felt heavy as they raised to encircle her. Draco couldn't decide what to do. This was incredibly new territory for them – comfort. He raised an arm to run his fingers through her frizzy hair, pulling through the strands.
They sat in silence for a while. Draco had no idea how much time had passed. For a while the absence seemed never ending, like it would follow him forever. Eventually he felt her chest fall deeper and slower against him. The cold splash of her tears faded.
"What – what are we going to do?" She whispered against his skin, her voice rough.
"I don't know if there's anything we can do."
Draco wasn't ready for her to pull away just yet. He rested his cheek against the pillow of her hair.
"How can we just – just let him do that? Why now?"
"Did you see the Prophet piece about him a few days ago? It didn't come out of nowhere, he's in a corner."
He could feel Hermione shake her head, but they both knew he was right.
Draco continued, hoping to share the stoicism he'd gained in the last week. "We talked about this before, that he's doing anything he can to protect himself. If he thinks this will take the eyes off him…"
"How could we be so stupid, as if he would just forget. I knew what he saw in my memories, merlin, I should have done something."
"Hermione, we didn't think this was his plan. We did what we thought was right at the time. Now we have to do what we think is right now." Draco let out a heavy breath. He wasn't sure how he felt now. He should have known Hermione wasn't the type to just swallow this like he had. She wanted to fight, to take Theo down with them.
"I have to do something. I have to –"
"Yes. You have to study, and go to class, and eat. In the morning – just, eat quickly. Be prepared for a rough day. That's all you have to do."
"I have to find Theo – he's coming here. This is his room! Good, I'll stop him! Draco, I need my sweater." She pulled herself up, her eyes darting frantically between the curtains of his bed.
"Hermione, you can't just attack him in this dorm. First of all, there's no way the Free Press doesn't already have the whole story quilled and printed, ready for the morning."
"Then, then I can find them. I can find whoever's behind it, and stop them before the morning!"
"Really? You've got roughly seven hours, and everyone in this castle is asleep in their locked dorms."
"Creevey! Yes, Creevey." Hermione nodded. "He's in Gryffindor, he gave them photos. Oh, God they might have photos."
Draco's mouth pulled into a tight sneer. "Yes, that's a possibility."
"I can't think about this. I need to not think about this." Hermione filled her lungs rapidly as she started pulling away from him. "This is all I'm going to think about for the rest of term, if not the year. Oh, god. I need to think about something else right now." She leaned back, having now separated the two of them. Hermione allowed herself to bury her head in her hands for only a moment before raising herself to meet Draco's eyes once more.
Draco nodded, familiar with the feeling.
"Turpin?"
Hermione shook her head in annoyance, and Draco could see she was still reeling with anxiety for the morning ahead.
"Yes – yes. I'll just show you the memory, that's simpler."
Draco's mouth was already open to respond when an idea struck him.
"Why don't you hide it? I haven't helped you practice Occlumency recently." And soon you'll really need it.
Hermione nodded. Her mind was still far away from the discussion at hand, but they both knew how consuming Occlumency could become.
"Fine, just," Hermione seemed to fortify herself on sheer force of will alone. "Do it."
Draco raised his wand.
Author's Note: I don't love the idea of cutting the chapter right here, but that was the best option short of doubling the length. So the next chapter picks up right about where this leaves off.
Now: To those who came for mystery - what a chapter! to those who came for romance - what a chapter! As you guys (hopefully) can see, this was a very important chapter for a few reasons. Thanks so much to everyone who's reading/following/favoriting/reviewing. On we go!