Chapter Thirty-Five: Summer at Grimmauld Place
Ginny reclined on the stairs, twirling her wand idly in her fingers. She sat at the upmost landing of Grimmauld Place, the door to the attic wide open across from her, and she did her best to ignore the bright flashes of color and rambunctious laughter filtering through. Week four of dueling practice was well underway, it seemed.
She heard the floor creak as someone came up the stairs; at the sight of disorderly black hair and bright green eyes, Ginny smiled.
"Hey you," she said. Harry smiled back, taking a seat beside her.
"Hey," he said.
Ginny took up one of his hands. "Won't be long now, and you'll be in there too."
Harry's face burned – he was suddenly aware that his nails could use a trim, but he couldn't bring himself to retract his hand from Ginny's soft grasp – and he tried not to think about his impending birthday. July 31st loomed ever nearer each day, which brought him both relief and exponential levels of stress at the same time. He'd be of age, finally. He'd also be facing a hunt for horcruxes that could prove quite deadly.
"Harry?" Ginny leaned in, a questioning look on her face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "Sorry, just… A lot on my mind." He looked toward the attic door. "Maybe if you were in there too I could actually look forward to it."
They watched as Charlie Weasley paired off with Hermione. The two stepped into the center of the room, which was quite spacious and airy after Hermione had modified it a bit, and bowed. Harry couldn't see the others, but he could hear Fred and George telling jokes from the corner of the room.
Hermione shot a jinx Charlie's way, a burst of blue light emitting from her wand. He threw up a shield; right as the jinx rebounded, he called "petrificus totalus!" and missed Hermione by mere inches.
"Don't you go easy on me," Hermione snapped. "If I were a Death Eater you wouldn't say it out loud!"
Charlie raised his eyebrows, a boyish grin on his face. He shrugged.
"Have it your way, Granger," he said. Then he swished his wand, sending a sweeping yellow light toward her.
Hermione blocked it. Water spouted from her wand and immediately, with a second flick of her wrist, the stream froze into an icicle. Charlie ducked, but still managed to hit the ice with some unspoken spell. It vaporized into steam over his head.
"You're not coming back next year, are you?" Ginny asked quietly. "To Hogwarts."
Harry turned to her, his heart sinking. He really didn't want to have this conversation right now.
"No," he said. "I think after the wedding, we'll go."
"Take me with you," Ginny said, turning her hazel eyes on him. "You know I can help. You've seen me duel –"
"You won't be of age," Harry replied, his voice low.
"Then I won't use magic," Ginny said. "But I'll stay out of the way – I'll figure something out…"
Harry looked down. "Ginny."
She didn't try to argue further. Instead Ginny set Harry's hand in his lap, shaking her head, and she stood up. Her eyes shimmered, and the sight twisted Harry's stomach into a knot. He hadn't seen Ginny cry since her second year. She wasn't like Hermione, who wore her emotions on her sleeve.
"I need some tea," Ginny said. Without a glance back she retreated down the stairs, and Harry watched her go without protest.
A thundering bang came from the attic, and Hermione shrieked. Harry leapt to his feet, reaching the door just as she crumpled to the ground.
Charlie, a mix of shock and worry on his face, knelt by the bushy-haired witch. Soon a swarm of red-haired Weasley boys surrounded her. Harry noticed Blaise leaning against the wall, watching from afar, but worry lined his scarred face as well.
"Alright, alright," Hermione hissed, waving them away. "I'm fine. Honestly."
Ron glared at Charlie, who paid him no mind. Hermione sat up, rubbing her shoulder, which revealed a heavily burnt sleeve and blistered skin beneath. Despite the wince she gave, she appeared more annoyed than anything.
"This is good, actually," she said. "You all need practice anyway."
"I can heal you up," Charlie said, pulling her to her feet.
"Which means you don't need to practice," she pointed out, but she smiled reassuringly at him.
"Er – which spell was that, again?" Ron asked.
Before Hermione could launch into a lecture, seeing as how neither Fred nor George seemed to remember either, Blaise rolled his eyes. He pushed off from the wall and strode into the group.
Grasping Hermione's arm gingerly, he eyed her shoulder. Harry couldn't see any blood from where he stood. Then Blaise raised his wand and said "Episkey."
Ron stared on murderously.
"Good," Hermione said. She rubbed her shoulder, nodding in approval. "At least one of you was paying attention."
"Show-off," George muttered.
Blaise winked at him, then returned to his place against the wall. He spotted Harry, and his smile faltered – Blaise and Draco still hadn't found a place of acceptance with Harry or Ron. Blaise got on well enough with everyone else by now, not that it did him any favors. He'd gotten into a heated debate with Ginny the other night about quidditch, and Harry hadn't appreciated the playful banter it devolved into.
"Potter," Blaise greeted curtly.
"Hey Harry," Charlie said. He glanced at his watch. "That time again, is it?"
"Thank Merlin," Ron said, rubbing his stomach. Usually Harry's arrival signaled dinner, and so the others began shuffling past him to head downstairs.
Hermione pulled at her sleeve, trying to get a good look at the tear. Blaise watched her struggle to get a good angle, aiming her wand and rethinking it several times. She huffed.
"Here," he said, walking back over. He stood at her side, lifting her arm again, and lowered his voice. "Still think we're all destined to be best mates? Because so far, I see no progress."
"They just need more time," she insisted.
"Right." He focused his energy and watched the grey fabric stitch together again. It left a permanent mark on her sweater, a thick line of overlapping thread, and it somewhat resembled the scars covering Blaise's body. He frowned at it.
"Thanks," Hermione said quietly, snapping Blaise out of his reverie. He straightened, realizing how close he stood, and stepped back.
Harry and Ron had left already, not bothering to wait on Hermione. Blaise caught a look of disappointment cross her face.
"They just need time," he repeated.
Hermione didn't reply, but she gave him a small smile before heading down the stairs. It had been wishful thinking when she'd said it, which didn't make it any better to hear just now.
…
Charlie stayed for dinner, though he was the only guest that night. The residents of Number Twelve were used to housing various Order members or extraneous Weasleys, so that evening the house felt quieter than usual. The Burrow had been approved for safety ages ago, but Harry wanted to remain at Grimmauld place. It was their key to researching R.A.B. and the locket, so he couldn't abandon it just yet. Ron and Hermione stayed with Harry, and then Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ginny all decided to stay as well. It was too difficult for Molly to split her time between her children otherwise.
Draco and Blaise sat together at the far end of the table, Hermione beside Draco and serving as a buffer between him and Ginny. He resisted the urge to excuse himself and pull Hermione away. Draco's entire body buzzed, alive with adrenaline after receiving some news that afternoon.
"Aren't you hungry?" Hermione whispered, ignoring the chatter between the Weasleys. She glanced pointedly at his stew, which he hadn't touched.
In response, Draco merely picked up his spoon and began politely stirring around his bowl. He couldn't stomach the thought of eating. Molly, always on high alert for signs of illness among her brood, narrowed her eyes at him.
"Not feeling well, Draco?" she asked. The chatter ceased.
"Not quite," he answered, setting down the spoon. "Sorry."
"Nerves?" Charlie asked. "Mad-Eye told me he'd be by today. Try not to worry – he knows what he's doing."
Draco nodded. Hermione scanned the table, noting all the questioning faces; judging by their expressions, no one understood the cryptic message except Charlie, Draco, and Mr. Weasley. She turned to Draco.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I think I'll turn in early," Draco said. He looked to Mrs. Weasley, who waved him off with a nod.
"Of course, dear," she said. "There'll be leftovers for later if you get peckish."
"Thanks." Draco stood, set his napkin on the table, and pushed in his chair. He gave Charlie a tight smile before leaving the room.
Hermione and Blaise locked eyes. She could see all the concern and confusion she felt mirrored in his gaze, though he waited to see what she would do. After a moment Hermione quietly excused herself, ignoring the stony silence as she did so, and she followed Draco into the hall.
She found him in the library. He sat with his legs propped up while he stared at the ceiling, his white-blonde hair ruffled and untidy.
"Draco?" she asked, knocking on the doorframe.
He drew in a deep breath and turned to her. Hermione looked the same as always, her thick hair pulled back from her face and her dark eyes inquisitive. She didn't get shy with him anymore, not the way she had at Hogwarts, and Draco felt drawn toward that subtle confidence. Memories flitted through his mind: kissing her against the bookshelves in the library; kissing her, again, in the broom cupboard, and wanting desperately to have more; then, a few short months ago, snogging her each night in the Room of Requirement.
Something restless always pushed Draco's mind in that direction, something possessive and endlessly curious, but for now he buried it under more respectable thoughts.
"What was Charlie talking about?" Hermione asked, crossing toward the settee. She sat beside him, her knee touching his, and she reached for his hand.
Draco laced his fingers through hers, comfort flooding through him at the touch. He let out his breath.
"Moody paid me a visit today," he said. "They've been getting reports that my parents – well, the Death Eaters have them in a bad place. It's complicated."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"He – er, Voldemort – he's keeping them around for now," Draco said. He cleared his throat. "No one trusts them, though. I'm sure Moody left out the bloody details, but the Death Eaters... Knowing him they've probably been used as an example of what happens to blood-traitors."
Hermione's face fell. "I'm so sorry, Draco."
Draco shook his head. "Moody says if I want to get them out, it's now or never. They're going in tomorrow."
"What? Tomorrow?"
"My father will be treated as a criminal, of course," Draco continued. "But they'll bring my mother here, into hiding with me."
Hermione's brain worked furiously to process this news. It was strange that she, Harry, and Ron hadn't been included in the debriefing – but then, why should they? This had nothing to do with Harry or horcrux-hunting, nothing like that. She knew they'd receive intel after the fact, but for now this was purely Draco's business.
She squeezed his hand. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"I don't believe you." Hermione watched Draco's face. He refused to meet her gaze, choosing instead to stare intently at the opposite wall, and he was so carefully composed… In her gut she knew his expression couldn't reflect his actual feelings. He'd put up a wall to look strong.
Hermione studied him. He had started looking older, more like an adult than the arrogant bully she'd met during their first year. His jaw and brow had grown more angular, his shoulders broader than years before. When standing, the top of Hermione's head only reached his chin. He wasn't a boy anymore.
"What Charlie said was right," Hermione said. "Moody knows what he's doing, and he'll have the best aurors on the job. You'll see."
Draco nodded. It didn't actually relieve his worries, but having Hermione there still made him feel better. Actually, despite all he'd been through, Hermione had always been the one to make it better. He didn't entirely understand what she saw in him, but that didn't matter now.
"Hermione," he said, staring down at their interlinked hands. "I'd like to ask you something."
"Well… Of course," she replied.
Draco nodded again, stalling. He'd wanted to do this for a long time now. So why was it suddenly so hard to speak?
"Hermione," he began, "Would you –"
"Shh," she said, holding up a hand. "Did you hear that?"
"Er –"
"I think someone's here." Hermione paused, listening intently. Sure enough, new voices sounded from the dining room. If Draco wasn't mistaken, Moody had come back.
"Right," he said. He ran a hand through his hair. "Later. We should… We should go."
Hermione hopped up off of the couch, but before she could take a step, Moody appeared in the hallway. He looked as severe as ever, with his mouth in a permanent, jagged frown, and his glass eye whizzed about in its socket. Remus Lupin appeared at Moody's elbow.
"Miss Granger," Moody said with a nod. "We'll be needing a moment with Mr. Malfoy."
Draco's heart dropped. He hadn't expected to hear back from the aurors so soon. Without thinking, he reached out and took Hermione's hand. She glanced back at him questioningly.
"She can stay," he said.
Moody assessed the pair of them for a moment, his normal eye narrowed, and then he nodded in approval. He stepped into the library, his wooden leg making a dull clunk against the floor, while Remus shut the doors behind them.
Remus gave his former students a small smile.
"You both look well," he remarked.
"Thank you, Prof— er, Remus," Hermione said.
"What's going on?" Draco asked. "Is this about my parents?"
Remus looked to Moody, whose magical eye had rolled back to spy on the upper floors of the house. Moody coughed into his fist.
"As of this evening, your parents are missing," he said. "Our contact says they disappeared. As you can imagine, this is both good and bad news."
Draco's brow furrowed, but he didn't speak.
"Just because we can't find them, doesn't mean they aren't safe," Remus said. "In fact, if our aurors can't locate your parents, then it's unlikely the Death Eaters can either. For now it seems they've been quite successful in their escape."
"Do you think they'll come for him?" Hermione asked. "Not that they'd know where to look, of course…"
"They'll look," Draco said quietly. "They'll be smart about it, though."
The four fell into silence. Hermione glanced about, trying to think of the right thing to say, but nothing came to mind. Moody looked increasingly uncomfortable – sympathy wasn't his strong suit – while Remus merely clasped his hands and looked at the floor.
"If there's anything you need, Draco, please let me know," Remus said.
"Right, and if you hear anything, you know who to floo." Moody turned abruptly, more than ready to escape the awkward silence.
"Right," Draco said. He nodded to Remus. "Thank you."
Remus nodded back, still looking quite sympathetic, and he followed Moody out of the room.
Hermione squeezed Draco's hand.
"Draco…" she said.
"I think I need to be alone," he said, still very quiet. "I'll – I'll see you tomorrow." He let go of Hermione's hand, then paused. Leaning forward, Draco planted a soft kiss on her forehead as though to say, "thank you." Then he turned and left without looking back.
…
The next week went by without much to show for it. It was decided that the Weasleys would return to the Burrow for the week leading up to Bill and Fleur's wedding, and so Harry and Hermione would join them. Since Ron was so opposed to housing Draco and Blaise in his home, however, the two Slytherins opted to stay at Grimmauld Place, despite having open invitations to attend the nuptials. Charlie had returned to Romania after that evening of dueling, but after sending an owl to Bill which mentioned his approval of Blaise, Bill had sent word to his mother that they should all feel welcome at the ceremony and reception.
Ron hadn't liked that at all.
"He's my brother," he'd said to Harry, angrily flinging his clothes into his trunk. "Why should they get to show up for his wedding?"
"No clue," Harry muttered, busy packing up his own things.
"It's barmy, that's what it is," Ron continued. "And you can bet Hermione'll be too busy writing Malfoy to do any research. It's like we don't even exist anymore!"
"What research is that?" Harry asked.
"You know," Ron said, "Horcrux stuff."
Harry didn't argue. Truthfully, while Hermione had her hands full with various distractions, she'd still pulled through for her friends. It was even her idea to check with Kreacher to find the locket, not that they could currently with the house so full of guests. They'd decided to check back just after the wedding, while everyone would still be away at the Burrow.
Ron continued to mutter to himself as he gathered his things.
"I wonder who else will be there," Harry said.
"Who cares?" Ron snapped.
Harry let it drop. He'd been about to hint that Ron might run into a prospective girlfriend at the wedding, since the guest list was so large, but Ron hardly seemed interested.
Someone knocked at the door.
"Just me," Hermione said, poking her head in. "We're all meeting downstairs in a half-hour. They won't be leaving the floo open once we're moved, so Mrs. Weasley doesn't want anyone left behind."
Ron snorted. "Right. Like any of us would be so lucky."
Hermione looked to Harry, who shrugged. Then she rolled her eyes and left.
"Do you really trust Malfoy and Zabini here on their own?" Ron asked. "Who knows what kind of trouble they'll get into…"
Harry didn't reply. He actually had no worries about Draco and Blaise, since they'd always been respectful enough of the house. Recently he'd even had a hard time disliking them at all. Draco's face had a tendency to annoy Harry enough on its own, but really… Between the two of them, all summer Draco and Blaise had kept to themselves. Blaise had even distanced himself from Ginny, which admittedly Harry had appreciated.
He still couldn't make sense of Hermione and Draco, though. How long had that been going on? It caught him off-guard to think that Hermione had some secret romance… Although, maybe he shouldn't be so shocked, considering how well she'd hidden her feelings for Viktor Krum during their fourth year.
Harry's mind wandered, eventually coming back around to Ginny. He hadn't patched things up with her yet. Hopefully she'd come around.
"Ready, mate?" Ron asked. He snapped his trunk shut.
"Right, yeah," Harry said. Closing his trunk as well, and trying not to worry about things with Ginny, he smiled at his friend. For now, at least, his problems looked pretty small.
…
Draco, perched on his usual spot in the library, stared intently at Blaise. His friend sat on the opposite end of the sofa, a mug of tea in hand, and chewed on his lip thoughtfully. After a long minute scrolled by, Draco's nervousness increasing with every second, Blaise set down the mug and sighed.
"I don't know," he said.
"Well, what do you mean?" Draco asked. "What don't you know about?"
"The timing of it, for one," Blaise replied. He propped a leg up on the coffee table and reclined back. "It just seems a bit suspect. Objectively, of course."
"What's wrong with the bloody timing?" Draco asked, crossing his arms. "You're the one who always told me to go for it –"
"Always?" Blaise raised an eyebrow.
Draco huffed. "Always after fourth year, anyway."
"Look, I just think you need to consider how it looks from the outside," Blaise said. "I mean, you've had all summer to ask her, but you haven't. So why now? And speaking of fourth year, I seem to remember Hermione getting her knickers twisted over Weasley doing the same thing. Girls don't forget that stuff."
"I – it's – don't compare me to Weasley!" Draco stammered. "And it's not the same thing!"
"Mhmm."
Blaise picked up his tea again and sipped at it. Playing devil's advocate with Draco was mostly for amusement, since Draco rarely got so ruffled about these things anymore. He really hadn't been so riled up since his younger years at Hogwarts, when Potter would best him at something or Hermione made him feel stupid. The throwback made Blaise smile.
"Think this is funny, do you?" Draco snapped.
"Er – no, not at all," Blaise said.
Draco got up and started pacing. He pushed his hair out of his face.
"I don't know why I haven't done it yet," he admitted. "I keep meaning to, but then when she's right in front of me, I can't do it. And don't you repeat any of that," he added. "The last thing I need is for Potter or Weasley to hear how bloody pathetic I am."
"It's not pathetic. Besides, girls love that kind of thing."
At Draco's skeptical look, Blaise went on. "What I mean is that girls love to know they make you nervous. Trust me. Tell her that's why you haven't asked already, and even Hermione Granger will swoon."
Draco laughed. "Right. Like it'll be that easy."
"Well, what are you afraid of?" Blaise asked.
"I don't know!" Draco sat again. "Maybe that she'll say no? That she's decided I'm not as exciting now that I'm stuck in here all the time?"
"Mate," Blaise said, "She'll say yes. Don't worry about that."
"Then why are you making this so difficult?"
"You know." Blaise shrugged, grinning. "Got to keep things interesting."
"Keep what interesting?"
The boys both looked up, Blaise dropping his leg from the table and Draco jumping to his feet. Hermione stood at the library door, eyeing them suspiciously.
"Nothing," they said together.
Blaise cleared his throat. "Off to the Burrow, then?"
"Yes, actually," Hermione said. "Think you can survive without me?"
"Just barely." Blaise stood, raised his mug in cheers, and started toward the door. "See you at the wedding, Granger."
"Miss you already, Blaise."
Hermione stepped into the library and allowed Blaise to pass by, then tugged the door closed behind him. Draco tried not to act nervous, but it was hard; she looked lovely as ever in a cobalt-blue jumper and simple jeans, her hair pulled over one shoulder. Draco's mouth felt dry.
"It's going to be a long week, I think," Hermione said, walking up to him. "I'd have more fun if you would come, too."
"Yeah," Draco said. "Me too."
His gaze fell to the floor.
It's now or never, he thought.
"Hermione," he said, "About that thing I wanted to ask you…"
"Oh, right," she said. "I forgot about that. What was it?"
"I – er –" Draco's mind raced, his thoughts too mangled to make any sense. In that moment of silence, however, Hermione slipped her hand into his. Everything slowed down. He sighed, looking at their interlocked hands. "I'm sorry, I know you don't have much time."
"It's okay," she said.
"The truth is, I've been meaning to ask you for a while now," he continued. "I just haven't found the right chance… Not with everything going on lately. It's all been a mess, but it's not so bad, not when you're here."
Hermione blinked, trying to gauge Draco's meaning, but he kept on before she could ask.
"I… I want you to be my girlfriend."
"Oh," she said, a deep blush filling her cheeks. "You really mean that?"
"Of course I mean it," Draco said. He stared down at her, his pulse racing, running through all the worst-case-scenarios in his head. She could ask to just be friends. She could drop his hand and leave him standing there on his own. She could laugh.
"Well… Yes," Hermione said. She smiled shyly at him. "How could I say no to that?"
Relief swept through Draco. He grinned, probably looking quite silly, but he didn't care much. Pulling Hermione up off the ground, he spun her around once, ignoring her yelp of surprise and the way she half-seriously demanded to be put back on the ground.
"Well if this is how you're going to behave –"
"Then you'll just have to get used to it," Draco teased. He obliged her anyway, setting her gently down, but he still held her close. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, Draco rested his chin on Hermione's head.
"Maybe I could…" Hermione said, hugging him back. She didn't want to think about the long week ahead. Her things were packed and by the door, and any minute now Molly would come knocking. She held him tighter. "I really think I could."
A/N: Hey all. I am so, sincerely sorry for the delay. I never meant to land another hiatus on you, but unfortunately I've needed to switch my focus onto college.
I will keep updating Pre-Not until it's finished, but please don't anticipate the quick updates I used to do. At this point, I have the story mapped out entirely, and I have the next chapter as well as a few others (or later on) written. They just need revised mostly. I will get Chapter 36 (A Wedding to Remember) posted in the next few days, I can promise you that. Afterward, please give me some patience and leeway. I really don't know what my timeline is at this point.
As for this chapter specifically, I'm sorry if there are any errors. I re-read most of it but I don't have a lot of time (I'm actually at work right now) so I crossed my fingers that I did enough editing before. Something I've noticed is that I'm actually most attached to Blaise, out of all the characters. He's the closest thing to an OC I have here, really, so I guess that makes sense. Please let me know what you think! Critique is always appreciated, as long as it's constructive. I want to keep improving for you guys.
Thank you for your support. I have received more reviews than I could have imagined, and even a few messages - shout out to Adrianaf, who reached out to me yesterday. Your kind words reminded me how important Pre-Not is to me, and that I can make time for it here and there, and I should keep at it.
Love you all,
Penny