.17.
The news that Feyre had fainted was now unconscious in the Hospital Wing spread around the school like wildfire. Practically everyone who knew Feyre was extremely worried about her, especially as the cause of her fainting was not known. Even the Headmistress was worried about her, most unusually. It wasn't exactly a secret that Feyre and the Headmistress had had nothing to do with each other all year.
The only thing that was known for certain was that Feyre and Lucien had argued with Hermione Granger in the library that very day. Whispers and rumours said that Hermione had really gotten stuck into them. About what, however, they did not know. When pestered about it, Lucien only told them to go ask that bitch, Granger, while Hermione only told them to go ask that sad old bastard, Vanserra. Talk about pathetic.
Tamlin, unlike the vast majority of Hogwarts' staff and students, saw through the myriad of insults. He knew exactly, what the three of them must have argued about that day. Not wanting to anger Lucien, or break the tentative truce between the two of them, Tamlin went directly to Hermione for answers. If he was right about his suspicions, he couldn't believe that she could be so petty and pathetic.
"We need to talk," Tamlin snapped, storming up to Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, two days after Feyre had been admitted to the hospital wing.
Hermione glanced up from the bridal magazine she was perusing. "Oh, I promised Harry and Ginny that I'd help them plan their wedding. I'm not planning on proposing to you yet, so you don't have to worry."
"That's not what I'm talking about, Hermione, but thanks for letting me know," Tamlin growled.
"Can we talk about it later, then?" she said, idly flipping pages of the magazine. "I still have to keep up with my studies, as well as plan a wedding."
"I'm sure your friends' wedding and your studies can wait one night," Tamlin snarled viciously, barely able to believe her impertinence. "We need to talk, now."
"So, talk away."
"In private," Tamlin hissed angrily, grabbing Hermione by the arm and literally dragging her from the room. By this stage, Tamlin was so furious that he was oblivious to the stares and whispers following them out the common and down the corridor.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Hermione yelled at him in a whisper, as Tamlin dragged her into the nearest empty classroom and slammed the door shut behind them.
"I think a better question would be what in the name of the Cauldron, were you thinking?" Tamlin snarled, temper bubbling away. "What did you do to her?"
"What did I do to who?"
"Don't play games with me, Hermione, after nearly five hundred years; I'm practically a master of lies and manipulation. I've been bullshitting people long before your grandparents were even born. What did you do to Feyre?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said primly, smoothing down her uniform skirt neatly.
"What did you do to Feyre?"
"All I did was tell the truth. It's not my fault that the girl is such a pathetic wuss."
"What did you do to her?"
"It was only a simple little fainting spell. She really ought to have been let out of the hospital wing by now. Maybe the bitch ought to stop faking it. We all know that she's only doing it for the attention."
Just then they heard the door squeak open and Tamlin whirled around in time to see Amren, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Endymion, Rowan and Lucien enter the room.
"What are you doing here?" Tamlin inquired, looking stunned. "I would have thought that you all would have been at Feyre's bedside."
"We have been," Lucien snapped. "But it's been days, and no one at all is any closer to figuring out why she's still unconscious."
"I'm not even sure if the nurse is even attempting to figure it out anymore," Amren grumbled angrily.
"What on earth would you know about how hard the school nurse works?" Hermione glared at her. "After all, you're nothing but a whore. A whore who doesn't even want her own child. At least I want to have children one day, which is more than I can say for you."
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE WORM?!" Amren was so enraged that Rhysand was literally struggling to hold her back, to stop her from attacking the other woman. When it came down to it, Hermione was really just a spoiled, selfish child. Rhys didn't like her much, but at the same time, he didn't want to see her hurt. Even nearly eight months pregnant, Amren was still quite powerful and could still hurt the girl very badly – maybe even kill her, which was the last thing anyone wanted at the moment.
"Amren, she's just a child. Calm down, relax. She's just a child, she doesn't deserve it," Rhys muttered in Amren's ears as he attempted to hold her back.
"When the stupid attention seeking idiot finally leaves the hospital it looks like I'll be able to tell her that her precious husband is interested in another woman," Hermione smirked triumphantly, overly confident in her assessment of the situation.
"Right now, I think that you are more of an attention seeker than my High Lady," Cassian snarled. "Feyre is as kind and caring a woman as a person could possibly meet. I'd suggest you take lessons from her. It's no small wonder that even your friends don't like you anymore. I've heard things about you from them. We all have."
"She's as nasty as Nesta normally is, wouldn't you say?" Rowan remarked casually, slipping automatically into a battle stance. "It's no small wonder that no one even likes her anymore; not even her own friends."
"How do we know that she isn't the one who hurt Feyre?" Azriel's voice whispered from the shadows. "We already know that she's a nasty piece of work."
"It was her," Tamlin admitted, dejectedly. "She admitted it just before you lot came in."
"What? No, I didn't," Hermione said heatedly, trying to cover her tracks. "You're lying."
"He's not lying, Hermione, you are." The shadowy corner parted to reveal Azriel kneeling on the ground, his infamous blade Truth-Teller clutched in his hand. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but you are definitely the reason that my High Lady could be dying."
"She's not dying," Hermione snapped impatiently. "I only used a little delayed-action fainting spell on her that day in the library, so no one would know that it was I who did it. It was the perfect plan, and guess what? It worked."
"This is so messed up," Endymion groaned, sinking down onto the nearest ugly wooden seat. "Do you have any idea at all the amount of trouble you'll be in when the staff find out?"
"Why on earth would I get in trouble?" Hermione giggled away happily. "You do realise that no one is going to believe you right? I'm brightest witch of my age, after all. Not to mention the fact that I am a war hero after all. You'll sound completely nuts if you attempt to accuse me!"
They all exchanged a look at that, all except Tamlin, who was starting to feel more than a little left out. It wasn't that he particularly wanted Hermione to get into trouble – he felt that she deserved whatever punishment that was doled out. But, at the same time, he also wanted to keep her near him; he especially didn't want to see her expelled. He loved her. What really grated on his nerves at the moment was the fact that no one at all was including him in the conversation, when he was the first one to have discovered Hermione's duplicity. In that moment, Tamlin was terrified for Hermione's immediate future, due to the risk of punishment, yet at the same time he was furious with her. Tamlin might not have been in love with Feyre any more, but that didn't mean that he didn't still care about her. He could understand why she didn't trust him, even if he didn't like it. And now, with her life on the line…
"What are we going to do with this?" Cassian said, more calmly than he felt though his features were a mask of rage and fury. "It's not like we can just conceal it from the staff, or the nurse in particular."
"Especially not when Feyre could still die. Whatever Granger did to her, it was clearly a more powerful spell than she thought it was, or the bitch is lying about what spell she used on her," Rowan said.
"I vote that the bitch is lying about what spell she used," Amren snarled viciously. "I've never known a simple delayed action fainting spell to put someone in a coma for over a week. It's just not possible. It's blatantly obvious that the dumb bitch is lying."
"Agreed," several voices said at the same time.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that anyone who nearly kills another student, whether accidentally or on purpose, ought to be expelled," Lucien said irritably, having long since lost his patience with both Tamlin and Hermione. "You do realise that we can't keep silent about this, don't you? We have to report it."
"But you'll look even more bonkers than you already are!" Hermione laughed again. "I already told you that. Or are you just plain stupid? As stupid as Draco Malfoy and his gang of cronies? None of you can touch me. You'll be the laughing stock of the entire school. What. A. Shame."
"You don't understand, Hermione," Endymion said quietly, speaking for the first time. "If it comes out that we knew about this, but didn't tell any member of the staff – it'll be our lives on the line."
"I know," Hermione beamed up at him. "Isn't it wonderful? No one would suspect my part in it at all. That's why I like you the best, Endymion. You're the smart one."
"Now, you listen hear, young missy," Rowan hissed. "I don't care who you think you are, but where I come from, there is such a thing as justice. And justice means that people like you who do evil things get punished for it. And I will never let an innocent girl like Feyre go without her justice."
"I can go get Headmistress McGonagall for you," Lucien offered. At this, Hermione blanched, whiter than paper. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in with her at last. She was finally starting to realise that she wasn't going to get away scot free with her actions.
Rhysand nodded gratefully at Lucien, who instantly sped off. But the moment Lucien slammed the door behind him, Tamlin spoke out. "No," he growled, shoving Hermione behind him. "You can't do this. I won't let you do this."
"And why not?" Rhysand growled. That bitch and bastard had hurt his mate enough. He was not going to let them get away with it.
"Be – because..." Tamlin stuttered. "B – because—"
"Because nothing," Amren hissed. "Admit it, the only reason you want the bitch to get off is because you want to use her as your next sex toy … sex object … fantasy. Just think about how sick and degrading that must get for her."
"I see that Feyre's warped your mind against me," Tamlin hissed. "My personal feelings have nothing to do with this."
"Then why aren't you allowing her to get the punishment she deserves?" Rowan snapped. "Feyre is Rhys's mate, after all. When my wife and mate was kidnapped by the enemy during the war, I was so furious with rage that I slaughtered all those who tortured her with impunity. And you know what? I hate, I absolutely hate the fact that she's still suffering because of it. I hate the fact that she will never be able to forget what she went through, as long as she lives."
"I can't let her get punished for this," Tamlin shouted, "because she is my mate!"
"If that pathetic little worm over there truly is your mate, Tamlin…" Rhysand said brokenly, almost sobbing, "Then you'll understand why I have to make sure she gets her just desserts. If it was your mate that was lying in that hospital bed … and you didn't know whether she was going to live or die… If someone harmed her in any way, then you would do everything in your power to make sure that person never saw the light of day again. I have to do this."
"No, you don't," Tamlin pleaded, "you can call this madness off right now. I'll beg, if you want me to. I'll do anything. Just don't punish Hermione. Just step aside and let her go."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Tamlin," a stern voice said. Looking around, they saw Headmistress McGonagall standing there, flanked by Professor Flitwick and a panting Lucien. "I cannot condone one of my students nearly killing another, in an unprovoked attack. Miss Granger must come with us. The board of governors and the Ministry's Educational Department will decide upon a fitting punishment for her."
As Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Flitwick escorted Hermione out, Tamlin and Rhysand glared at each other furiously. There was nothing kind in their gazes, only loathing and pure hatred. In that moment it was clear – neither of them was ever going to be able to forget or forgive this.