Chapter Thirty: Here's Me Letting Go
Part 1: The Scholar's Mate
Father had said that in order to guarantee success, the meeting between a blackmailer and the person they are blackmailing should go like a game between a chess grandwizard and a chess wizard.
The grandwizard's object was to enter the game with a sort of respect for their opponent, to play with confidence but not arrogance, and to end the game before the master could learn their strategy and use it against them. Each of the grandwizard's moves had to involve extensive thought and planning, all possible countermoves and outcomes had to be carefully considered, and there could be no surprises.
Grandwizards—like blackmailers—loathed surprises, or anything that would break their concentration and hinder their progress. However, someone had forgotten to explain all of this to Parvati Patil because she'd made several critical errors right from the start.
But that was fine.
Draco happily used it to his advantage.
The problem with Parvati was that she was supposed to be the grandwizard in this game, but was playing like a novice.
A stupid one, at that.
Her first move had been an arrogant disaster; a classic case of how not to behave when playing a worthy opponent. It was a pity, really. He'd expected more out of her following that surprise encounter at the restaurant a couple of weeks ago. But her blunders would only make things easier for him.
See, when Draco walked into the private sitting area in which they were meeting, not only had the witch not bothered to look up from the table, she'd continued to scribble in her notebook. Questions, no doubt. The scratching of her quill was the only sound that he'd heard after shutting the door. Eye-contact, he'd been told, was a must. It showed authority and confidence, two things that a blackmailer needed to establish immediately to show they were serious and in control. It annoyed him greatly that she hadn't bothered to look at him, but he didn't vocalise it.
Why? It was simple. Because he was the chess wizard. The chess wizard's object was to do everything in his power to extend the game—whilst learning about his opponent. It was foreign territory for him, putting himself in a position where he didn't have control from the start, but it was part of that 'For the Greater Good' mess he'd heard the Ministry spout after the war. Sure, the meaning—in this case—was different, but the overall message was the same.
Again, without looking up, she casually gestured to the seat across from her and suggested, "It would be best if you took a seat, Hermione."
To which, he replied with a cool and sarcastic, "Come now, is that the way to greet an old friend?"
Draco was pleased at the 'just shit myself' expression on Parvati's face, but managed to keep his face neutral. However, it was harder to keep his composure when she nearly knocked over her chair as she stood up, eyes wide and hands clenched at her sides. "Draco Malfoy!"
Oh, this was all just too perfect and priceless.
"In the flesh," Draco drawled, purposely adding a slight stiffness to his tone that, he hoped, would convince her of his apparent—yet false—unease. He only had thirty minutes to get what he needed, and if he wanted his plan to work, he would have to lead her into a false sense of security. Then she would be more willing to talk and less willing to realise that she was marching herself off a cliff. To do that it meant that he had to hang back, exercise patience and restraint and, to his utmost dismay, let her think that she was winning.
The witch observed him with dubious eyes before she asked, "How did you find out I was here? What are you doing here? Where's Hermione? Why—?"
He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "As entertaining as this is, I'd prefer not to play twenty questions."
"That's fine, because I only have one question. Where is Hermione?"
"That's none of your concern," he replied while picking an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his robes. Of course there was nothing there, but Draco had a feeling that in the months following their last encounter, Parvati had found a way to study his mannerisms. There was no empirical evidence to support that idea; just a hunch that he was testing out for the very first time. Merlin he hoped that he was right because his back-up plan wasn't nearly as flawless as his original.
Parvati glared at him with squinty eyes. "Really now. And why not?"
He noticed the return of her arrogance almost immediately. Well, that had gone easier than he'd anticipated.
Nevertheless, she'd given him all the evidence that he needed. She had been watching him, studying him, trying to learn his habits—probably in preparation for that surprise encounter at the restaurant. Draco snorted to himself. That was just fantastic for him, but bad for her. Shameful, really. No one had told her that the problem with making assumptions about others was that one either assumed too much or too little. In this case, she'd assumed too little, but that was fine. Draco forced himself to be just a bit flustered when he replied, "It just isn't. Now if we can just proceed."
She folded her arms across her chest, staring at him coldly. "Proceed with what?" she sniffed in a way that eerily reminded him of her mentor. "My meeting is with Hermione, not you."
"Actually—"
"Now, if you'll just send Hermione in—"
For just a second, Draco abandoned his plans and interrupted her with a very firm and curt, "Stop." He despised being interrupted, but—like most always—Draco exercised amazing restraint when, instead of throttling the shocked-looking witch, he continued, "She's not waiting in the hall; she's not even in the building. I'm afraid you'll have to contend with meeting me today."
Parvati obstinately stuck out her chin. "Not bloody likely. I don't care if I have to—"
"Take a seat, and accept that you'll be meeting with me today."
Again, she ignored him and folded her arms across her chest. A defensive stance while on offence. Another bad move, Patil. But all wasn't lost on her end. Parvati had, at least, managed to self-correct her eye-contact problems. Her eyes never left his when she informed, "This isn't part of the agreement."
"Agreements, as you know, are meant to be broken."
"No, they're not. Hermione and I had a deal, simple as that. She would either tell me the truth or I'll print Ginny's truth. Either way, it's a win for me. I was just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Only because you don't want to be embarrassed—again. Or rather," he added snidely, "you want to redeem yourself after that most embarrassing publication."
It was too much, too soon. Draco watched as she tensed then sneered, not wanting to be reminded of her career blunder. "That has nothing to do with anything."
"Oh really?" he thought about going for it, but refrained. Barely. This wasn't the right moment. And besides, she hadn't said anything they could use against her. Blast. And there were twenty-four minutes left.
"Yes, really," she huffed and frowned. "This meeting is over. You can see yourself out," the witch paused and tapped her chin as if she'd just remembered something important. "Oh, and make sure you tell Hermione that in four days she can read all about how your torrid one night love affair the night of the final battle lead to the birth of your son. It's sure to be a sensational read," she glanced at her manicured nails before flippantly adding, "Even if it is a lie."
His jaw clenched, but this time, it wasn't done on purpose. A million comebacks swirled around in his head, but Draco stopped himself from uttering one, simply because he suddenly didn't trust himself. Or his words.
"You look a little tense, Malfoy. Did I strike a nerve?" Parvati asked hopefully. "It's a pity, really, that we couldn't chat longer. I bet there are oodles that you can tell me, but alas, I don't see the purpose of this meeting without Hermione here. Unless…" she looked at him with a tiny smirk on her face. "Unless you know the truth and she sent you here to tell me."
Well, this was taking an unexpected turn.
"Now, why in the hell would she do something like that?" Draco coldly shot back, act abandoned. "You think you know me so well, but you've made it startling clear that you don't. I'm not her—or anyone's—lackey."
Parvati opened her mouth, but shook her head and finally sat down; that smug smirk still on her lips. At least that part was going according to plan. She then gestured to the chair across from hers. "Take a seat, Malfoy. I may have called the meeting off too soon. It seems like we have much to discuss."
That time, he was the one who didn't listen. "I prefer to stand."
She shrugged and set up a few privacy wards. Nothing too complicated. He struggled not to smirk as that part of his plan worked perfectly. "Do what you want, but since I have to 'contend' with you—your words, not mine—I may as well ask you a few questions." The witch didn't pause but for a moment before she started, "You see. I have a slight problem with all this."
Draco tilted his head slightly to the side, but said nothing.
The witch took his silence as weakness and smiled before continuing, "Doing something unselfish, like showing up here in Hermione's stead, is not really your style."
"How do you know that it's not selfishness that brings me here today?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It was only then that he realised just how tight his muscles were. When Parvati just looked at him sceptically, Draco told her, "I came here as her representation," in a slightly annoyed tone.
"You are?" Parvati asked, slightly leaning back in her chair. "I wasn't aware that we would need legal representation for an informal interview. Such—"
"Spare me the tripe, Patil. You seem to forget that I know your kind—far better than you do, it seems. And more importantly, I know your mentor. Nothing is ever informal." He spared her a casual glance before he added, "Or fair."
Her cold eyes flashed with anger, "I resent that." He watched as her hand balled into a fist on the table. "I'm nothing but fair."
Fair? Draco slowly cocked a brow. "And you're deluded, too, but that isn't news to me."
"What?"
"You heard me perfectly fine. Fair. You think you're being fair?" he snorted. "You blackmailed—"
"I didn't blackmail anyone. I simply gave Hermione the chance to—"
"You can stop telling yourself that any time. You didn't give her a chance, you gave her an ultimatum. Tell you the truth, or you'll tell the world a lie. I hardly see that as an opportunity, much less one that anyone would be stupid enough to actually take. So, don't think that you've done anyone any favours."
"And yet she did take it."
Draco unclenched his fists.
"What I still fail to understand is what you are doing here. You say you're not her lackey, but here you are, doing her dirty work. What are you to her? Because a selfish bastard like you would never—"
She just had to go and knock on the door of something that had been bothering him for weeks now. "Don't make assumptions about my character." Because, at times, he surprised himself. Like now. The point where he would've lost his patience and reacted had just passed, but there he stood with his anger in check.
Perhaps Granger's maturity—or whatever—had managed to rub off on him.
Better yet, maybe he had done a lot more maturing than he'd originally thought.
"I wouldn't dream of making an assumption about your character. It was merely an observation." Parvati sniffed as she picked up her quill. "There's no need to be so touchy, Malfoy." When his expression didn't change, she sighed. "There's no real reason why we can't talk this through like two adults."
It was like the turning on of some internal switch; that was the only way to describe the abrupt change in her demeanour. It had nearly caught Draco off guard, but what had saved him from being completely thrown off his game was the fact that he'd seen it all before. It really paid to have Rita Skeeter as a family friend. It had given him the opportunity to watch her and get to know her style; a style that Parvati Patil emulated to a science…probably because she'd never bothered to find her own. Gone was the cold Parvati, and in her place was—well, Rita Skeeter's protégé in full on coaxing journalist mode.
"Malfoy, I'm only here to help."
He scowled, "Help, and get your story." Nineteen minutes left.
"Naturally," she smirked. "If I've learned something, it's that you don't get anything in life for free. You have to work and make sacrifices to get what you want."
Draco said nothing, but wondered just why she was talking to him as though he knew nothing about sacrifices. He almost snorted aloud. He'd done nothing but make sacrifices, and it had never been about what he wanted. Was it possible to be selfish and unselfish at the same time? Or maybe unselfish by force?
That sounded more likely.
And from what he knew, Patil's sacrifices were purely motivated by selfishness. She'd given up just about everything—and everyone—just to get ahead. He found himself wondering just what the hell her point was.
But then he remembered that he didn't give a damn.
During the tense silence, Parvati crossed her legs and clasped her hands together, trying to show him that he had her undivided attention. Draco decided this was the right time to give her another reason to let her think she was in control over the situation; he sat down in the designated chair and stared almost defiantly across the table at the smug-looking witch.
The silence lasted just long enough for him to adjust in his seat. And then she cleared her throat. "I hate silence. Nothing ever gets accomplished with silence. So, since you're feeling particularly taciturn, I think I should start with what I know. Just to get the ball rolling, or so the Muggles would say."
Another bad move.
He immediately heard his father's voice in his head, as clear as if his father was standing right next to him. No matter how bad it gets, never show your hand, Draco. It was the vivid memory of the serious look on Father's face when he'd said those words to him years ago that had almost made him pause. He'd been thinking about Lucius ever since that initial thought in the alley, and it was finally starting to get in the way of the task at hand. Draco quickly cleared his mind of his father.
He was going to get through this by himself.
"I know that Hermione's child isn't yours."
His face remained blank. "I'm sure that you have something better than that, because that is quite obvious as I hadn't had contact with Granger until several months after she'd returned from Italy." Draco paused and added as an afterthought, "As if she would have a reason to be in contact with me before then."
Parvati's smirk remained. "It's not about that. I don't care about that tripe. It's useless to me. I care more about the timeline. It gives me a clearer picture about the true paternity of her son, which is much more interesting. According to her son's Muggle birth certificate, and assuming that he wasn't born early, he was conceived right around the final battle."
She was actually much closer to the truth than he'd anticipated and his stomach turned. This was no longer about whether he could stop this information from getting out. The situation was more dire than that.
And Draco realised he had fifteen minutes to silence her…permanently.
"Muggle birth certificate?" he feigned ignorance.
"Oh, don't play stupid, Malfoy," she told him sourly, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "Surely, given your—" Parvati paused to choose her words carefully, "friendship with Hermione, you had to know that the boy was born in the only hospital in Historic Venice."
Actually, he didn't.
Matthew was still a very touchy topic; one he didn't bring up until it was absolutely necessary or pertinent. Meaning: never. He knew enough, but didn't know everything, and figured Granger would tell him in her own time. He also figured she was waiting for him to do the same. He frowned at the thought before properly tucking it away.
Parvati skimmed her parchment quickly before pointing to something and nodding, "Yes, exactly as I thought. Giovanni e Paolo…or whatever it's called. It doesn't matter. I don't mention the hospital in my article, and I won't mention it in the new article."
Bingo. Got her.
Draco leaned back against his seat and asked, "Then how did you know about it? The hospital, I mean."
"Simple. I'm a good journalist," Parvati replied smugly, "And a good journalist seeks the truth, wherever it may lead."
"And it led you to Venice," he said dryly.
"No, Ginny Weasley led me there," she chuckled, "Funny, if I'd known that she had a pivotal clue in Hermione's post-war whereabouts, I would've gone to her way before she came to me."
"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty."
"I bet you're telling yourself that now, huh?"
If he had any part in it, she would be saying those words in less than fourteen minutes, but he was determined not to rush it out of sheer annoyance. Draco had to force himself to not make any facial expressions that would give him away.
"Now, it's time to tell me something that you know. I can't be the only one giving up information here."
Draco knew he had to choose his words wisely. Very wisely. He was so close to getting her where he wanted her, and he couldn't mess up or falter now. But what to tell her? It had to be something that would pique her interest, something that was the truth, and something that wouldn't betray Granger's confidence. "I can confirm your guess as to when her son was conceived."
For a moment, he wasn't sure what she would say—or do. Parvati looked completely sceptical. "How do I know that you aren't trying to trick me? How do I know that what you're saying is actually the truth?"
He shrugged, "You don't," and allowed himself to smirk for the first time since he walked into the room. "What does it matter anyway? You have your story."
"It's a lie."
"It's gossip. That rubbish with fit in with—"
He was cut off by her sharp laugh. "You honestly think that I'm going to print the article you all 'found'? I would never just hand my work over to anyone else, least of all a snivelling little brat like Ginny Weasley."
And it hit him. Like a punch to the gut. How, in the name of Merlin, had he missed that?!
Meanwhile, Parvati was sneering. "What kind of idiot do you take me for? That article you found was only written to satisfy her irrational rage and to get her off my back. And it worked. The more hurtful, the better—utterly unbelievable, but no matter," she waved her hand flippantly. "I think that after all this, I'll investigate just what Hermione did to make Ginny want her head on a pike." But then she paused, "Unless I find that answer while searching for the truth about her child's paternity."
Draco was still struggling to wrap his head around just how wrong they all had been about everything.
"She's clearly out for blood," Parvati shook her head. "She gave me Hermione's address and everything I needed to know. I went to Venice for a few weeks, and I went to every hospital around her house and had no success. And then I thought, 'what would Hermione Granger do?' And just like that, I knew she would hide her little secret in the busiest hospital in the busiest part of the city. We all know that the best place to hide something is in plain sight."
And his mind started working overtime, trying to figure out just how he was going to find his way back to the road that he'd already established.
"It was a shame she couldn't keep it hidden, it was a shame that she had the gall to underestimate everyone, but I suppose it's a good thing."
"So, the part about me being—"
"Oh, that's still there…unless you give me a reason to change it." The witch smiled. "And don't think that this will be published in some stupid gossip rag or some magazine that nobody will pay attention to. No, this has been picked up for publication by a brand new newspaper, outside of Britain. This will be their first major headline, and they are just itching for my final draft."
He took a moment to pull his head back together. Perhaps she hadn't played the game like a novice, after all. Perhaps he had done some underestimating of his own. It was time to change his plan. There wasn't much time left. "What do I need to do to do to get my name out of this?"
Parvati's grin widened. "Ah, there he is. The selfish bastard that I remember."
Draco scowled. "You talk too much. It's going to get you into trouble."
"I hardly doubt that."
"Just tell me what you want."
"The name of the boy's father. Find it out in any—"
"I already know it."
It was her turn to look surprised. "Hermione's clearly lost her touch if she trusts you, of all people, with something like that."
Draco fought to keep his face impassive. "Do you want the name or not?"
She looked dubious. "How do I know you're going to tell me the truth?"
"I suppose you're just going to have to trust me."
"Your word may be good enough for Rita, but it's not good enough for me."
"Then why are you talking to me? All I have is my word."
The witch stared at him stubbornly for quite some time. For another second, Draco wasn't sure she would accept his answer, but then the corners of her lips twitched and she was smiling. So was he, on the inside, when she said, "I suppose you're right." The witch sat up straight, "Go on, tell me."
Draco checked his watch and tapped his finger on the table. He stared directly into her eyes and answered her demand with a firm, "No."
The anger in her eyes was unmistakable. "That's not how this is supposed to—"
"No," he snuffed her words out like a small flame. "I won't tell you anything. Not until you answer my question."
"Question," she snorted, "I don't think you're in the right place to start making demands, Malfoy."
"Oh, but you see, I'm in the perfect place to make demands. You think you've got something over my head? You think you've got something you can use to make me compliant? Well, you're wrong."
"I—"
Draco cut her off with a small chuckle. "Do you honestly think I care about your threats? They're absolutely meaningless to me. Go ahead, print that I'm the father of Granger's child; print whatever ridiculous lie that you want to…everyone will quickly find out that you're a liar and a fraud. And no, I'm not bluffing." Draco looked back at the doorway for a moment before looking back at the now tense witch. "You know, you think you're smart, but you've made more errors than not. You've accused Ginny Weasley of underestimating everyone around her, but you've done something far worse. You've not only underestimated everyone around you, but you've underestimated me."
She did at least fight to maintain her composure, but it was a losing fight.
"I'm guessing you didn't account for my indifference. That's a shame, really, because you should've." He leaned forward, power surging through every limb of his body. It was a good feeling to have control back. "I bet I know what you're thinking right now."
Parvati said nothing.
"I bet you're wondering just what I know that can prove you're a liar and a fraud."
Her face tightened with defiance. "Actually, I'm wondering what your question is."
Not exactly what he had in mind, but not bad. "Now that you've explained everything—stupid move, by the way—there is just one thing I'm curious about. Just how did you come across the birth certificate?"
She shifted around in her seat, suddenly nervous. Draco would've grinned had he not been in such a predatory mood. "I found it."
Draco didn't even blink. "Try that again without fidgeting."
"I—"
"You're lying," he stood to his feet calmly, staring down at her with cold eyes. "And I hate being lied to, so I'm going to ask you this question one more time. How did you get your hands on that birth certificate?"
"I…took it," she muttered.
"Oh, don't be reserved now," Draco taunted. "Not when you were so bold just a few minutes ago." He paused and decided to play on her stubbornness. It wouldn't be too long now. "Don't be ashamed—"
Her eyes narrowed fiercely. "See, that's where you're wrong, Malfoy. I'm not ashamed of anything I've done. It was done for the greater good."
"Your greater good," he shot back.
"Exactly."
"So, if you're not ashamed, if it was done for your greater good, then just tell me how you took—"
"The Confundus Charm works perfectly on non-compliant Muggles."
That was all he needed, and it came just in the nick of time.
There was a firm knock on the door.
Parvati's head jerked, her eyes filling with confusion. "Who's there?"
Draco said nothing because he already knew the answer. He only rose from his chair, went to the door, and pulled it open. Blaise stood in the doorway, clad in Auror robes and wearing a serious look on his face. Their only greeting was a slight nod that was actually a silent message. Draco then stepped aside, "Come in."
"Blaise Zabini?" the witch questioned, confusion etched in her brow. "What are you doing here?"
"I was invited."
Draco watched as cold realisation washed over her face. For the second time that afternoon, she jumped out of her chair so hard that she nearly knocked it over. Her cheeks were red and her finger was pointed at him accusingly, "You tricked me!"
"Actually, you tricked yourself," Draco told her. "Didn't you ever wonder why Granger accepted your deal?" he asked, taking a step forward.
The witch took one back. "I just assumed that she was taking the most intelligent option."
"And you assumed incorrectly. She accepted your deal because I told her to. The purpose of this meeting wasn't for you to get your story, it was for you to condemn yourself…and you did a fine job of that." The gleam in his eyes, he knew, was nothing short of malicious, but this was the moment he had been waiting for. "As I said before, you talk too much. It's going to get you into trouble. Repeated use of magic on Muggles; that's sure to get you a few years in Azkaban."
Blaise's eyebrow rose a bit.
Parvati actually had the gall to smile. "Is that your great plan, Malfoy? Get me thrown into Azkaban to stop me from putting out my article? That's actually pretty good. Let me guess, Zabini here," she gestured to the wizard, "listened in to our entire conversation using an Extendable Ear or some other magical eavesdropping device. Am I right?" She didn't let either of them answer. "If that's the case, then, you didn't hear a thing because, as you know, I set up privacy wards. Magical devices don't work in here." Her smirk was arrogant and Draco had the urge to just wipe it off right there, but he had a feeing she had a little bit more to say…and he allowed it. "It's my word against yours, Malfoy. You may be a talented prosecutor, but you can't prove anything."
"But, you see, that's where you're wrong. I can still prove everything." He reached into the inside pocket of his robes and said, "You said it yourself. Magical devices won't work in here, but Muggle devices…."
Her smile quickly turned into a frown. "What are you talking about?"
"I didn't need Extendable Ears, not when I have…" Draco extracted the little tape recorder from his robes, "this little…thing."
Parvati's eyes widened with recognition. She opened and shut her mouth repeatedly, like a fish, and it was amusing. Evidently, she couldn't find the words to say.
"Granger spent the last couple of weeks testing it, making sure that it was resistant to magic. And then, she taught me how to use it." After fiddling with it for a moment, Draco managed to turn it off and hand it to Blaise, who handled it like an expert. Of course he knew how to work a Muggle tape recorder.
Seconds later, they all heard, "—assumed that she was taking the most intelligent option." Blaise pressed another button, and then they heard, "—Confundus Charm works perfectly on non-compliant Muggles."
And the witch crumbled.
"Wait! I—you tricked me!"
"Yes, but trickery is perfectly legal. On the other hand, blackmail, bribery, theft, and using magic against Muggles are not so legal." he fired back. "You didn't just confess to breaking our laws here in England, you confessed to breaking laws in a foreign country. The Ministry will not tolerate—"
"The Ministry doesn't even have a reason to investigate me!"
"If they didn't, I wouldn't be standing here getting ready to arrest you." Blaise told her.
"The boldness of your little stunt in the restaurant a couple of weeks ago with our waiter raised a lot of red flags within the Improper Use of Magic Office," Draco informed, "And it gave the department head every reason in the world to investigate you even further than we did on our own."
"You investigated me?"
"Of course, but the result of the Ministry's investigation was a lot like our own. They couldn't find enough evidence to arrest you. They needed verbal proof—a confession."
"But no one was hurt!"
"That doesn't matter." Blaise finally spoke up. "You broke the law multiple times, and we're here to do my job."
"We?"
Almost as if on cue, two Aurors entered the room. The first magically bound her hands and the second took her wand. The reality of the situation made Parvati almost hysterical. Her entire body was shaking and tears were starting to run down her face. "Wait! Ok! I'll tell you everything you need to know! I'll tell you about the newspaper! I'll tell you about everything! I'll do anything! Just don't send me to Azkaban!"
Draco said nothing—his part in this whole thing had just ended. Blaise nodded at the two Aurors to take the still-yelling witch out of the establishment. All was silent between the two wizards before Blaise said, "You know, if this goes to trial, you and Hermione will have to testify, right?"
"If being the key word here. If this goes to trial. I have every intention of not letting it."
Blaise's dark eyes narrowed first with confusion, then realisation. "You planned further than I thought."
The blond nodded. "I know who is going to get her case, and I happen to know her solicitor quite well. He'll want to try and keep this away from the Wizengamot."
"And if the prosecutor doesn't?"
"He will." Draco assured firmly. "We try to make deals for small cases. New policy. It keeps our workload manageable and keeps the Wizengamot from hearing ridiculous cases."
"I would think that you both would be more interested in seeing her thrown into Azkaban, considering—"
"I think I speak for us both when I say that I'm more interested in this ordeal being over." When Blaise smirked, Draco ignored him. "Besides, anyone would be mad not to cut her a deal. We got her on a lot of wishy-washy evidence and a technicality."
"And a confession."
"That could be overturned in a heartbeat by a solicitor with two brain cells. Shame hers hasn't even got that." Draco extracted his wand and used it to gather all the papers on the table. "She'll never be convicted."
"Whatever you say," Blaise held up his hands, "That's your area. I just investigate and make arrests. Though, I must say, that was the easiest one today, by far. I was expecting her to put up more of a fight." He carefully gathered all of the witch's things and started towards the door, but paused and turned around. "You and Hermione will need to come to the Ministry to give a statement, just in case."
Draco put his hands into his pockets. "Think we can put it off until tomorrow?"
"I wouldn't—" the wizard paused thoughtfully and nodded, "Sure, tomorrow…I'll make sure to tell Pansy not to expect you two for dinner tonight."
And then he left.
When the door clicked shut behind Blaise, Draco allowed the corners of his lips to curl into a slight smile.
The smell of victory was pungent in the air, and its taste was oh so sweet.
ooo
Part 2: In your hands
Silence.
There was so much of it in the moments following her words that it seemed to be a sound of its own.
But it wasn't the kind that preceded a great explosion or clap of thunder as a storm began. Instead, it was the kind that started out being imperceptible, went on to make its presence felt, and kept haunting her. This was the kind of silence that spoke to her, told her that just because the truth was out didn't mean that she could relax, didn't mean that she was finished being tested, and didn't mean that this situation had resolved itself.
Hermione had the feeling that their resolution was no longer in her hands.
As the shocked silence between the witches lingered and thickened, it settled on Hermione, helped her digest what had already happened, and what was to come. The silence calmed her and helped her to remember why she was there. It was all too easy to lose her purpose in a situation like this. It was all too easy to lose herself to anger when Ginny finally looked up and said, "You're lying."
Had she been in a different mindset, she wouldn't have heard the difference between this 'you're lying' and the last. While the last had been an outright accusation, this one was laced with a nuance of…hope.
"I can't express just how much I wish I were lying, but I'm not."
Ginny numbly pulled out the chair she'd refused to sit in only minutes before and sat down. She stared past her at the peach walls, and her eyes darted from side to side as if she were trying to read something with her mind's eye. Then, she looked at Hermione suddenly, "But—"
"But what?" she cut the witch off, trying hard to keep her voice from rising.
"You have to be lying or—"
"No," Hermione shook her head. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep her voice steady. "I'm not going to let you do this, Ginny. I'm not going to let you twist this to make me look like the bad person. You've done that to everything I've said for the last—I don't even remember how long! I'm not lying or leaving anything out. My son died." Ginny cringed at her final word and she couldn't force the emotions from her voice when she asked, "Why would I lie about something like that?"
The redhead looked like she was still struggling to grasp on to Hermione's words, their meaning, everything. She put her elbows on the desk, and raked her hand through her hair with one frustrated sweep. Her next words lacked their previous venom. "Because you—you would say anything to clear your name and make me look like a fool."
"Listen to yourself, Ginny. Does any of that make sense? To be honest, if I wanted to make you look like a fool, I would have taken a completely different route." That didn't come out right. She quickly amended her statement. "Look, just use your instincts."
That wasn't much better.
The stubborn witch narrowed her eyes. "My instincts tell me not to believe you."
"Only because you've poisoned yourself against me!"
"No, I didn't poison myself against you!"
"Stop doing that," she growled with frustration. "You've convinced yourself to not believe anything that comes out of my mouth. It's a shame that you're so consumed with hatred for me that you can't even recognise the truth. Because I am telling you the truth. What do you want me to do to prove it to you? Would you like to see his obituary? Would you like to see his death certificate? Would you like to take a Portkey to Venice to see his headstone? Because I'm not sure what else I can do make you believe me." Hermione stood up sharply, "And to be frank, I don't care if you believe me or not. I just came here to tell you the truth."
"But why wait to tell me?" Ginny asked, staring up at her. "Why wait until after I—"
"Ran to Parvati and provided her with your version of the truth that convinced her to go dumpster-diving into my past?" she finished, unable to keep the ire out of her voice. The redhead had the decency to look away. "It's your turn to be honest with yourself, Ginny; would you have listened to me?"
Ginny said nothing for a very long time, but just when Hermione had run out of patience, she muttered, "No."
"Exactly."
"But you still could have told me the night I found out about him…you should have told me then. We could've avoided all of this if you had just told me that he was dead."
"What difference does his death make?" she nearly shouted. "What does it change? It changes absolutely nothing!"
"It changes everything, Hermione! I'm not completely heartless. I would never disrespect a dead child like that."
"Oh, so it's okay to disrespect a living child? Is that right?"
Her mouth fell open. "No! It's not like that!"
"But that's exactly what you said. It's okay to hire someone to write a scathing article about a child and his mother, so long as the child is alive."
"You're putting words into my mouth!"
"I'm just going by your actions! You didn't have an ounce of remorse for your actions until you found out that he was dead. Guess who's the monster now? Here's a hint: it isn't me."
"But you—"
"There's nothing you can say that will put us on an even playing field. Nothing."
Ginny's voice sounded mechanical, rehearsed, and over-practiced. Hermione knew that she was only regurgitating what she'd forced herself to believe all these years. And she wondered just why Ginny clung so firmly to her beliefs; why couldn't she just accept the truth and her part in it? It didn't make sense…or maybe it did. Hermione had been inwardly hoping that her words—the truth—would have some sort of affect on the witch's behaviour, but it hadn't and…and it was more disappointing than she could have ever expected.
It forced Hermione to ask herself a very hard question: what did she expect to come from today?
The answer: too much.
One moment of truth was not going to turn everything around and change her. It wasn't going to erase Ginny's pain, anger, and deep mistrust; it wasn't even going to help her grow up and move forward. That notion was idealistic—no, unrealistic. She couldn't change Ginny; she didn't even want to try. It wasn't her fight or her place. And Hermione had a clear understanding of what she needed to do today.
Put it all in Ginny's hands.
"Ginny—"
She cut Hermione off abruptly, "Stop—stop saying my name like that. I don't believe you. I can't believe you."
Hermione scoffed. "I'm not about to sit here and talk in circles with you. Believe what you want to believe." She paused and opened the flap to her beaded bag and started digging around. "Keep on not believing me; keep on trying to exact your revenge. I'm tired of caring and I'm not going to try and save you, either. So, go ahead, find someone else to write about me. Oh, you'll need to after today because I'm not sure Parvati will be around much." Not with the way that Draco was talking. "Go ahead and find someone to write about my son—do whatever you think needs to be done to punish me. In fact, I'll even help you."
And she started naming everything that she pulled out of her bag while the redhead shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Here's a picture of the two of us," her hands started shaking, "his eulogy, another picture of him…." This was harder than she had imagined. "Here is his p-plot number," Hermione willed the tears not to fall when she caught a glimpse of his picture. The last thing she wanted to do was turn this all over to Ginny, but she knew that it had to be done. "I c-can even have his death certificate sent to you—"
Ginny just stared at her with wide eyes. "Wh—what are you doing?"
She closed her eyes and slowly pushed the small pile of papers across the desk. "I'm putting this into your hands."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't know how to make you see, so take it. Take it all. Use it as you see fit. I'm not going to run from this or you anymore."
Ginny looked at her sceptically.
"But if you do use it," Hermione said slowly, "you better make sure they tell the entire truth. All of it. Tell them about me and Harry, tell them about Matthew, tell them that he was a courageous little boy who didn't deserve the hand that had been dealt to him." Hermione's continuously quaking voice turned hard as she said the next words. "Tell them about everything, but you better tell them your role in all this. You better tell them about how you hid Harry's letter, tell them how you wrote to me for five years behind everyone's back, tell them how you tried to manipulate everything to make me look like the scum of the universe, tell them how you lied to everyone about your relationship status with Harry, tell them how you gave a journalist the—"
"Stop. Okay. Just stop." The redhead suddenly picked up Hermione's offering. "So you have some documents and pi—" The picture caught her eye. Ginny looked closer and then flipped through all the papers that Hermione had given her, searching for something that would tell her otherwise. But then her shoulders slumped with defeat, her cheeks coloured considerably, and she looked almost nauseated when she half-whispered, "You're not lying."
Hermione said nothing. What could she say?
"Oh gods, he has Harry's eyes." The witch looked at Hermione, then back down at the picture. The silence returned, but not for long. There was disgust in her voice when she said, "He looks like you, too." But then Ginny dropped the papers and photographs as if they were burning. "Take them back. I don't want them. I—" she froze, a look of horrified realisation on her face. "This is Harry's son and he's dead and I tried to—and Harry knows and—he thinks I'm a monster and—take them back, Hermione!"
She calmly shook her head. "No. The photos and documents are yours until you really decide."
"Decide what?" her voice was almost shrilled.
Hermione gave the witch back her wand. "Until you decide if you're going to go tell this story to another journalist, until you decide if you're going to let this go, until you decide that you're finished being angry at me for something that I didn't do by myself."
Ginny pocketed her wand almost numbly.
"I think you should know that that the moment I walk out of that door, I'm done. You can waste your life on me, but I won't be doing the same." She picked up the invisibility cloak, carefully folded it over her arm, and started to leave.
"You know, Harry tried to tell me the truth. Numerous times. But I didn't listen to him."
Hermione stopped. She started to tell her that Harry wasn't the only one who tried, Harry wasn't the only one who had lost a son, and Harry wasn't the only thing that mattered, but she didn't because it was pointless.
It would take some serious professional help, but she would learn that on her own.
"I was convinced that you…" the witch trailed off.
"When I left for Australia," Hermione started, "Harry came to see me. He wanted to leave you for me know what I told him?" she looked at Ginny. "I told him that all we were was a two-time mistake. I told him that he couldn't ask me to love him because I didn't. I told him that I wanted to be his friend and nothing more. I told him that you loved him, and that he should love you as he loved me, treat you as he would me. I don't have anything but platonic feelings for Harry."
"But, you, I—" her voice faltered.
"Wasted a lot of time trying to protect a relationship that wasn't being threatened," she paused, "No, that's not true. Your relationship was being threatened, but not by me. You and your insecurities, your jealousy, your obsession with him, and your inability to let go…that's what was threatening your relationship."
She looked confused. "Let go?"
"You heard Harry tell me that he loves me still, and yet you stayed with him. You even tried to punish me for his feelings; feelings that I don't share. You tried to punish me and our son for something that happened when you and Harry weren't even together." Hermione easily could've gone on, but that wasn't the real point that she was trying to make. "But, forget all that. You could've walked away. You could've talked to him yourself without doing all this, and now—" Hermione stopped herself from saying anymore.
"Now what?"
Hermione said nothing.
For the first time, the redhead showed true remorse. "I'm going to lose him, aren't I?"
She looked down at the cloak in her hands. "This is a conversation that you need to have with Harry when you give this," she extended the cloak out to her, "back to him."
Ginny took the cloak in both hands and stared at it, shaking her head. Hermione took a deep breath and walked across the room to the door. She had done everything she came to do, and now she was ready for some peace. The witch was twisting the doorknob when she heard Ginny sniffle. Her life was about to take a drastic turn and Hermione wanted to feel vindicated, but for some reason, she couldn't.
"I bet you're judging me in your head," Ginny said bitterly and then mocked. "'Ginny is a fool that—'"
"Who am I to judge you?" Who was anyone to judge her? Ginny was no different from Hermione. From Draco. From Lucius. From Ron. From Harry. No one was a saint in this world full of sinners. "We all make mistakes; some are worse than others, but they're all mistakes. I'm just as guilty in this as you, but I've found peace with that. You should, too."
Ginny met her gaze, and she found that she couldn't look away. She knew that look. It was one of broken understanding. And Hermione finally understood why this had to happen now and not weeks before. Now, she was finally ready to handle this correctly. Two weeks ago she would've had the urge to kick Ginny now that she was down. She would've wanted to yell and scream and curse her and teach her what pain truly felt like.
But she wasn't that person anymore.
Funny how one person could change so much in two weeks.
Today, she wasn't going to be Ginny's judge and jury. Today, she wasn't going to be the one to condemn her. Today, she wasn't going to allow the word 'revenge' to even enter her mind. Revenge, as Ginny would learn, was always the weak pleasure of a little and narrow mind. Today, Hermione would get no pleasure from her pain. So, Hermione squared her shoulders and said the only thing that she could say at a time like this, "I will forgive you, at some point. I know I will."
There. It was out. And it was the truth. She would forgive her, even though many thought that she shouldn't. Forgiveness, as Hermione had learned from Ron, didn't mean that she wasn't still hurt, nor did it mean that she would forget. They would never be friends, but she could let go and move on; she could find other ways to release any residual resentment.
Yes, Hermione nodded to herself, she would do that.
A second sniffle form the redhead broke through her thoughts.
And after hesitating just a moment, Hermione grasped the doorknob again. She should've said more, she should've told Ginny that she was in dire need of professional help, but in that moment, Hermione thought that it was best if she said nothing at all.
So when she closed the door behind her, it didn't slam shut.
Instead, it closed with a soft click.
Disclaimer:All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of JK Rowling. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: First, a thank you goes to my good friend kate04 for betaing this chapter for me. Second, when I planned this part out, I had them both crashing and burning HARD...but as I got to writing, it just didn't feel right. I realized that I needed to set everyone's paths on the road to their futures, rather than punish them for what they've done. Everyone might argue that they both deserved to hit rock bottom, that they deserved more than what happened, but in all honesty, their lives aren't gonna be a walk in the park from this point on.
I thought that Hermione dishing out a cruel punishment to Ginny would set her back to the beginning of the story where she was angry and I definitely didn't want that. Ginny-clearly-only cared about Harry (and referred to Matthew as Harry's son), and well, she's about to go home and have a conversation that she's dreading, a conversation that could affect her more than the conversation that she had with Hermione. I think the fact that she will have the ground ripped from under her "off-stage" is more poignant than Hermione ripping the ground from under her. As for Parvati, I think the worst kind of pain isn't physical, but rather psychological. Parvati clearly thinks that she's above the law and Draco ended up bringing her down a notch...or thirty. Her end isn't a slap on the wrist because there will be more to her punishment. I thought about Draco really crushing her, but then I realized that, not only was that a waste of time [as she doesn't care about anything he could throw at her] but it just seemed like it would drag the chapter out more. I didn't want that. And anything bigger, anything more public would've made it difficult for Draco to snuff this all out. And that is clearly something that he doesn't want. But Parvati, she'll likely lose her job, her credibility, everything...and since she's shunned her family...she'll have nothing. It'll be a really interesting story to see where she goes from that point [and she'll be briefly mentioned in the epilogue]. Needless to say, her path won't be an easy one.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!
P.S. xoVindictive/Emarrr made me a sweeet fanvid for Broken. Check it out! It's linked on my author's page, at the bottom (Current favorite fanvid). Yesssss.