Chapter Twenty-One: In Which Angelina Johnson is disapproving

A Series of Important Interludes

Monday

Hermione Granger waited until Theodore Nott fell asleep that night, and then she pulled out the note Draco Malfoy had slipped her. She read it in its entirety, three times, and then threw it into the fire, its message emblazoned in her memory.

Tuesday

Severus Snape stoppered the last cork of potion, bright purple and warm. Tracey Davis was on the floor, gasping in agony. He ignored her. As always. He wrote one word on a parchment, and tied it to his owl's leg. He opened the window, and threw it out. Tracey cried behind him.

Wednesday

A knock sounded on the door. Hermione padded over to it. Nott was, luckily, in the shower again. He had been showering a lot lately. She peered out, completely unsurprised, and opened the door. Malfoy stood before her, pointed and blonde. His hair gleamed bright in the torch light. He stared at her, the shadows from the flames flickering on his face.

"Did you get it?" Hermione asked.

He reached out a hand, silent, and Hermione reached hers out as well. He dropped something in her palm.

"Thank you."

Malfoy nodded, and walked away.

Thursday

Albus Dumbledore opened up the rolled scroll, turning the purple vial over. He read the one word on the parchment, hastily scrawled.

"Soon."

He smiled.

"Look, Nott," Hermione said, "I'm really worried about Katie. No one has seen her in more than a month. Isn't there something we can do?"

Theo straightened his robes, slowly. He had been expecting this for quite some time.

"I told you I'm not in good standing anymore," he said slowly, "and you heard them. No one's seen Flint in ages."

"Can't you go to his room? Can't we go, like we used to when Montague had—"

"Obviously not," Theo said, horrified, "what makes you think that's a good idea? Flint hates me. He's completely crazy, ruthless, and about three times my size."

"Can't you talk to him while you're on a raid?" Hermione implored.

" We don't..we don't really.." Theo stammered, "I mean, there's not a lot of talking on raids, Granger."
"Just killing?" she said, evenly.

Theo looked down a moment, and then he gathered himself.

"Not as much as you would think," he said finally, "not for awhile."

"Not since Montague died?"

"No," Theo said, voice still unnaturally calm, "not since Montague died. They don't trust us again. Just bullshit raids. Gathering supplies. That sort of thing."

Granger switched tactics.

"What about Occlumency? Are you still practicing?"

"All the time," Theo said truthfully, "I just was practicing with Ma-" he stopped himself, abruptly. They may have flirted briefly a week ago, and kissed, but he still didn't trust her. He wheeled around to face her. "What's with the twenty questions?" he demanded. He couldn't believe he'd almost just told her about Malfoy.

"I worry about you," Granger said, her eyes wide. Innocent.

It made Theo's guts twist, the look on her face. Sometimes, he worried it wasn't just his inner blood traitor that was making him try to keep her safe.

"Do you really?" he asked her, trying for sarcasm. He failed.

Her eyes opened wider. More guileless. "All the time," she said.

Theo stared at her. Granger stared back.

"I find that hard to believe," he said finally.

"Why?" she asked, a hint of breathless in her voice.

Theo stared at her. Granger didn't crack. It was pretty impressive.

"We've been over this," he said reluctantly, "I know you can't stand me."

"That's not true at all, Theo," she said. He twitched a little at her using his chosen name. His heart started racing against his will. "I'm not sure why you would think that. It's not like you and I were ever enemies at Hogwarts."

"True," Theo conceded, looking away from her. He tried to control his racing heart, and began straightening his raid robes again. His hands were growing sweaty.

"And I do spend a lot of time kissing you," she added, a teasing lilt coming to her voice.

"True," Theo said again, his heart racing faster. His face was turning a little pink.

"I do worry about you, and I think you're right, you shouldn't talk to Flint about Katie. It wouldn't be safe, and I worry so much about you being safe," Theo could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Granger paused a minute, while Theo tried to calm himself. "If you could just tell me where Flint's room is, and maybe, while you're on a raid…"

Theo's heart dropped to his shoes. He was such a fucking idiot. The internal Slytherin pure-blood voice laughed at him. You actually thought the ugly Mudblood liked you?

He wheeled around, furious at himself for being so stupid.

"So, that's what that was all about," he said finding Granger's eyes. She no longer looked so innocent. He supposed even she couldn't keep it up forever. "You want me to help you talk to Bell."

"Why is that a problem?" Granger said, after an admirable attempt at getting under control again. She tried to regain her former sweet expression. She failed.

Theo couldn't believe he had bought such a look from Granger in the first place. He knew her better than that. Years of silent observation had stored up a wealth of knowledge in her actual personality. The hormones were making him deluded, he decided.

"Why is that a problem?" she asked again, after he didn't respond. Her voice was becoming increasingly demanding. She fought it down again. "I thought you wanted to help Katie for Montague."
"I can't," Theo said, cold. "I can't. I have no power anymore. I told you, I don't even know why they haven't taken you back yet."

"You could at least try," Granger spat, her eyebrows lowering thunderously, "and I'd like to see Tracey, as well."

"Anything else you want?" Theo jeered. Her furious expression was turning her into the Granger he knew. Good. That fake, simpering creature had been distracting him. "Want me to kill Flint while I'm at it?"

Granger stood up, her face a storm. "That would be the bare minimum," she snarled, "you could move on to the Lestranges and Voldemort next."

Theo flinched at the name, and Granger laughed. Granger laughed. At him.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Theo hissed. "Bonus when I got killed trying to kill Flint."

"It would be an advantage to the plan," Granger snarled, her face turning red. Her terrible hair seemed more like a lion's mane than ever in her rage.

Theo stormed closer to her. "I really wish you would stop playing games, Granger," he said, furious, "you hate me, and then you pretend like you don't. Just stop. You hate me. Let's just leave it at that."

"I don't hate you," she hissed, her face turned up to his, Theo looming over her. He was very tall. "You have to care about someone first to hate them."

Theo leaned closer. "So that explains the Malfoy thing, right? Cause you sure hate him."

Granger gasped at what Theo was implying, and she looked like she was going to strike him again.

"Go ahead," Theo taunted, "go ahead. I give you permission. If I give you permission, it won't hurt you."

A war of emotions danced across Granger's face, and he thought she was going to back down. She took a deep breath, her face calming. Theo felt strangely disappointed. Then, out of nowhere, she drove her knee up, violently, into his balls. He yelped, and fell over on the ground, in agony. The spell was true to his word, and her violence against him didn't trigger the curse. He had, after all, told her to hit him. Just not like this. He moaned against the floor, writhing. It took him a few minutes to regain the power of speech.

"Fucking finally," he gasped, "finally, Granger. You're being honest with me. That's all I wanted." That was an abject and total lie, but the self righteous Mudblood of Gryffindor never had to know that.

He rolled onto his back. Granger crouched down next to him, unrepentant.

"I lied, Nott," she said calmly.

"No shit," he snapped at her. "About what, everything? I already knew that."

"I do hate you," she said, her voice low. "A lot."

Theo tried to sneer at her, but he was too exhausted. He didn't even think about what, per her own words, her hatred implied.

"Well, obviously," he said finally, trying for dismissive. He would never show her how much that hurt. "And I hate you, you fucking Mudblood."

Granger made another sudden move towards him, crouching down inches away from him. Theo braced himself for a slap.

"I really hate you, Nott," she emphasized, her voice quieter. Angrier.

And then she kissed him.

Theo realized, immediately, that she had been holding back before. This kiss didn't even compare to all the kisses previous. Her tongue was in his mouth instantly, her mouth bruisingly hard against his. She yanked his hair, pulling his head back. She was suddenly on top of him, her legs on either side of his torso. He could feel her weight, her heat, all over. It burned especially from between her thighs. Theo reached up, gripping her hair in his right hand, his left hand grabbing her ass. He didn't care if she was about to reject him. She couldn't reject him more than she already had. But she didn't push him away. She pulled him closer. They kissed, their tongues sliding, their mouths pressing, Theo's heart racing so hard he thought he was going to die. Granger stood up, sliding off of him. He was panting, his hands reaching for her as she moved away. She stared down at him, and licked her lips. She was panting as well. "I really fucking hate you," she repeated in a whisper.

"I know," Theo gasped.

There was a knock on the door. Megan Jones looked at Katie. Her hair was back to its normal shade of blonde. Katie stared at the wall, dead inside. Flint had just left for a raid. She could afford to be dead and empty now.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Jones asked her, an eyebrow raised. "You're closer."

Katie didn't respond, and Megan sighed, disgusted, and flounced off the bed to the door. Katie roused herself a little.

"Don't," she said, her voice hoarse, "don't open it without checking first."

Megan, who had been bending to peer through the peephole, whipped around to look at Katie in disgust.

"How stupid do I look to you?" she said, annoyed. Megan bent again to the peephole. "What the—" she whispered, shocked, "what the fuck?"

Katie tried to decide if she cared. Apparently she did, a very tiny bit.

"What?" she said finally.

"It's Hermione Granger," Megan said, shocked. She turned to Katie, her eyes large.

Katie sprang off of the couch, more animated than Megan had ever seen her. She took a startled step from the door.

"Katie are you—"

"Open it!" Katie yelled. "What's wrong with you, open it!"

She started to run towards the door, but Megan collected herself first and opened it.

It was in fact, Hermione Granger, wearing a horrifically mismatched Muggle outfit of black and red striped pants and a yellow and white polka dotted button down shirt, and purple pointy boots.

"What the fuck is that, Granger?" Megan Jones asked, horrified.

Hermione looked down at her clothes, almost as if she forgot she was wearing them.

"Oh, this?" she said, twisting a bit of her shirt between her fingers. "It's Nott's idea of Muggle clothes. I asked him for some, and this was as close as he got."

Megan laughed. "Pure-bloods," she said, contemptuous.

"Right?" Hermione said, smiling. "Look, can I come in?"

Before Megan could respond, Katie was there, dragging Hermione in Flint's chambers. She grabbed Hermione in a bone crushing hug, crying.

"Flint already left, right?" Granger asked Megan over Katie's shaking shoulders.

"A few minutes ago," Megan said, looking at Katie's display of emotion. "God Granger, that's the most I've seen her react to anything."

"Katie," Hermione said gently, "Katie, are you okay? Are you okay, Megan?"

Katie cried, harder. She could never stop crying. She could never stop thinking about death, and what a release it would be.

"Of course we're not okay," Megan scoffed, "we're with Flint. At least you've got Nott. He seems okay."

Hermione's fists clenched, her eyes flashing. "He's not as bad as some of them," she forced herself to say.

"How did you get here, anyway?" Jones asked, eager for news. She had been going absolutely barmy trapped in here with Marcus Flint's crazy ass and Katie: Teen Zombie for a month.

"Nott told me where it was," Granger shrugged. "He knew I wanted to talk to you."

Megan Jones's mouth dropped open, astonished.

"He told me where Tracey Davis's is being kept too, but I think Snape's there so I can't check yet."
"What?" Megan gasped, "Are you serious, Granger? You've got him that trained? And I thought Bell was good."

"It wasn't hard," Hermione said, her voice like steel, "he's a teenage boy, after all."

Megan Jones looked more impressed than she ever had at any of Hermione's academic achievements.

"Teach me your ways," she said, her voice reverential.

"I can't," Hermione told her, "Flint's not a teenage boy, remember? He's also psycho, so the rules don't apply. And he's tried to kill me, anyway, so I doubt I could control him."

Katie clung to Hermione tighter, and she frowned a little.

"Katie, are you okay? What's he done to you?" she asked, trying to be gentle. Gentle was not her forte. Katie cried harder.

"What's he done, Megan?" Hermione said, giving up after a few minutes of sobbing from Katie. "We haven't seen you in ages. No one knows what's going on."

Megan's face grew grim, her mouth a straight line. Her eyes grew dark.

"What do you think he's done, Granger?" she said, tired.

"Tell me," Hermione said urgently.

"No," Katie whispered finally, "I can't."

Hermione looked up from the chaser, and made eye contact with Megan Jones.

"Well, I can," the Hufflepuff said, her voice getting stronger.

Oliver Wood knocked on the door to the London flat. In his other hand, he carried an enormous bottle of wine.

The door swung open, and Angelina Johnson stared at Oliver, and then at the large bottle of alcohol.

"You're early," she said, smiling. "We weren't expecting you yet."

"And we were certainly not expecting you with that large of a bottle of alcohol," Alicia Spinnet said, peering from behind her best friend. "Goodness gracious, Oliver Wood, was that custom made for Hagrid?"

Oliver forced his face to smile back. It was hard for him, now. "Just for good friends," he said.

Angelina ushered him inside their flat, and Oliver took off his coat.

"Oliver!" Leanne called from the couch, "good to see you!"

Brenda smiled at him as well, a little tentative. She had never really talked to the older, popular Oliver Wood much before.

"Oliver's getting us drunk," Alicia informed them briskly, "isn't that nice of him?"

"Aren't they a bit young?" Ange said, frowning a little, as she moved around in the kitchen, looking for wine glasses.

"We just graduated!" Leanne said, annoyed. "School's out, now! And we're both of age."

"Ange was just teasing, weren't you Ange?" Alicia said, pointedly.

Angelina stared back at her, and then, grudgingly, went back into the cupboard and got out two more wine glasses.

Oliver sat down hesitantly in an armchair.

"It's good to see you, Oliver," Alicia said, patting him on the arm, "we've been worried about you. Fred and George said—"

"And why would you be worried about me?" he asked, confused, "No one's got me captured."

"There's more than one type of worry that's allowed, Oliver Wood," Angelina said sharply.

Oliver shrugged one shoulder. "I guess," he said.

He missed the looks the four girls exchanged.

"So, Oliver," Leanne said, after another awkward silence, "why did you ask us to meet here today?" She took a bite out of a piece of chocolate sitting in a bowl in the middle of the table

"And why with alcohol?" Angelina asked, passing around glasses.

Oliver took a deep breath. Now they were to it. He took a gulp of wine after pouring some for everyone else.

"Because," he said finally, "I'm investigating. And I need your help."

"Investigating what, Oliver?" Angelina asked, a small frown on her face.

"I'm trying to find Katie," he said looking down, "and I need to know all the information I can get."

The four girls exchanged looks once more.

"Why us?" Alicia asked.

"You're her best friends," Oliver said, quiet. He plucked at the armchair's hideous yellow and brown throw. "You know her better than anyone."

"But we don't know where she is," Leanne said, sounding devastated, "you know we don't know that, Oliver."

"I know," Oliver said, "that's not it. I need to know something else from you."

"Anything," Alicia said, sincere, "anything that will help get Katie back."

Oliver took a deep, shuddering breath. Now they had come to it. He looked up at the girls, who were watching him apprehensively.

"Does Katie have feelings for me?" he asked.

All four of them flinched. Oliver's heart sank.

Angelina recovered first. "And what does that have to do with anything?" she asked, stern. Alicia, Brenda, and Leanne all took a swig of wine. Leanne took too much and coughed.

"It just does," Oliver said, earnest, "trust me."

Alicia and Angelina had another wordless exchange. Leanne and Brenda gulped more wine and didn't make eye contact with Oliver.

"Please tell me," he said, desperate.

Alicia looked away from Angelina.

"All right, she does, Wood," Angelina said in a matter of fact tone.

Oliver almost puked.

"She has for a long time, "Alicia added. Oliver felt like someone was twisting a knife in his heart.

"I thought you knew that," Leanne said, finally looking at Oliver, her voice tremulous. "I thought everyone knew that. It started in first year."

Oliver buried his head in his hands again, and Leanne told him the whole story.

"Nott," Malfoy said to him, quiet, "can I borrow Granger for a few hours sometime?" Theo's head whipped around, his left wand upraised.

"Fucking what?" he said, startled.

"I won't hurt her," Malfoy promised quickly, as they dodged a stray curse from the editor of the Daily Prophet. It had been a very long time since they had been on such an active raid. Theo hadn't lied about that to Hermione. He had lied to her about almost everything else.

Theo stared at him, astonished.

"Is now really the time, Malfoy?" he asked. He thought the idiocy was an act but apparently…

"Duck!" Sheep Shit screamed, and they ducked. The editor was hit by his curse of Petrificus Totalus.

"Nice," Theo said, surprised. "We actually might have to learn your name soon, Sheep Shit," he said.

Even under the mask, he could tell that Sheep Shit was grinning.

"He can still hear though," Theo told him, "do you think that's a problem?"

The brave recruit from dinner spoke up hastily.

"Yes, sir!" he half-yelled. All of the new recruits were inexplicably scared of Theo 2.0, since he had taken over as his team's raid leader.

"And why is that?" Theo asked patiently. Everything was under control. Flint had taken out the copy-editor upstairs with a stunner, and a stunner only. Theo had made that crystal clear. Crabbe and the other recruits were using the printing presses, changing the stories to what the Dark Lord had requested.

"Because then he can hear our plans, my leader!" the recruit yelped.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Don't say he's the leader, idiot," Sheep Shit reprimanded, "they shouldn't know that either," and he kicked the frozen editor.

"That's right too," Theo said, and he cast Muffliato. It was a spell Granger had taught him when they were on fake good terms. He was glad those were finally over with. Or so he told himself.

"What's that?" the recruit asked, impressed.

"A spell I made up," Theo lied, "only I can use it." He didn't know why he was still protecting Granger. He had no clue.

"Wow," Sheep Shit breathed.

Malfoy snorted.

Theo ignored him, like he always did in front of the others. It was part of the game. He just was never sure when Malfoy stopped playing.

"Almost done there?" He called over to Crabbe and the others.

"Yes sir!" another squeaky voice recruit called.

Merlin, had this one's balls even dropped yet? How old were the ones they were getting now, twelve?

At the thought of balls, Theo grimaced under his mask, and thought of Granger again. He was glad her hot and cold behavior was going to stop. He was sick of being confused about her. He wanted it to be clear, and now it was clearer. She hated him. She had always hated him. He had to remember that, no matter how she reverted to other, fake behavior. So why had he told her where Bell was? Why had he told her when Flint was—

"Want me to kill this one?" Flint grunted, coming down the stairs. He was holding a woman, the copy-editor, and shaking her unconscious body.

"No," Theo snapped, "I made that clear earlier, Flint."

"Wow," Sheep Shit repeated, impressed again.

Theo was disturbed that he was getting groupies.

Quickly, before Flint could ignore his orders, he Obliviated the editor and the copy-editor. Now, they would think they had written those headlines. They would agree with them.

"Are you almost done, Crabbe?" he snapped again, striding over to the newspapers.

"Yes sir!" Crabbe repeated.

Malfoy gasped quietly from behind Theo when they both bent to look at the headline.

Theo stopped himself from reacting just in time.

It was a huge picture of Granger. To be specific, Granger, Potter, and Weasley. The headline read: Mudbloods Infesting the Wizarding World and the subheading read: Do they really think they belong here?
Theo looked away, not reading anymore. His internal voice, in the tones of Thaddeus, told him that this was a perfectly respectful headline. His pure-blood heritage told him to be happy to be part of spreading the truth. His pride, angry at how Hermione was playing him, agreed with his internal voice and his heritage. His heart did not.

"Let's go," he snapped, turning away, "and before we report to the Lestranges, I want a word with all of you," he ordered, and disapparated.

The reappeared outside of the room where they dumped their memories, and gathered in a semi-circle. Theo pulled off his mask, his face and hair sweaty, and they did the same.

"Good work, men," he said, thinking that was stretching it a bit when he saw the ages of some of them. The new recruits and Crabbe beamed at him. Malfoy and Flint scowled. Theo ignored them. "I'm proud of you today. Soon enough, you'll be earning Mudbloods of your own, and we'll be the best raid team of anyone," he lied.

"Hell yes we will," Sheep Shit said, his eyes glowing with pride.

"Count on us," the brave recruit said.

"What's your name, recruit?" Theo asked him.

"Wallace, sir," the kid replied, "John Wallace."

Theo dimly recognized the name as one of the poorer pure-blood families.

He clapped him on the shoulder, and smiled, grim. "Keep it up, Wallace," he said, and that was all it took for him to win the kid over. Good. He needed more allies now that Aidan was dead.

"Let's go in there," Theo said, and they started filing into the room, smiling at him, respect shining in their eyes.

"Flint, Malfoy, a word," he said, formal.

"What the fuck do you want?" Flint grunted, looking murderous.

Theo 2.0 swallowed hard, and felt terrified just as Theo 1.0 would. He pushed through it.

"I wanted to know what you're doing, hiding Bell away," he said after a moment. He wasn't asking for Granger's sake. He wasn't.

Flint stared at him, his trollish face covered in disbelief.

"None of your fucking business, Nott," he said finally, and he clenched his fists at his sides.

"I say it is," Theo said, standing his ground somehow.

"I say it fucking isn't," Flint said, menacing, and he stormed in the room after the recruits.

Malfoy looked at him, shrewd.

"Don't push this bullshit too hard, Nott," he said, warning, "and stop ignoring Pansy. She's getting suspicious."

"I hate Pansy," Theo said, his voice heavy.

"Don't we all?" Malfoy smirked. He made to follow Flint, and paused. "And think about what I said. About Granger." He gave Theo a meaningful look and followed Flint.

Theo stared after him, thunderstruck. He thought, surely, that Malfoy had been putting on his act earlier. This proved that he had not been.

What was going on with Malfoy and Granger?