Diagon Alley - Part 2
. . . .
Stepping into the wand shop called Ollivanders, Hermione looked on with revulsion. The place was dusty with cobwebs and grime everywhere. It was unpleasant but there was an undercurrent of magic brimming within the shop.
Rectangular boxes were scattered behind the counter on shelves, the floors and some were even floating near the ceiling. Hermione was anxious to find the wand she would call her own very soon.
"Do not touch anything." Lucius warned, a look of pure revulsion marring his features. "Who knows what kind of disease you'll take home with you."
Hermione snorted in amusement and Draco turned to her, a sneaky smirk on his lips as he juggled his eyebrows playfully. He stretched out his hand, his pointer finger out to touch the dusty books lined up on the side of the wall.
Lucius smacked the back of his head and she chuckled as Draco scowled, rubbing the spot where his father had striked.
Hermione watched an elderly man come from behind the shelves that were placed with boxes upon boxes and smiled as he approached the countertop.
"Mister Malfoy," the man cheerfully greeted Lucius. "Is it that time already?"
"Indeed," Lucius droned, eyeing the place with repulsion. "Draco needs a wand, as does Miss Granger, the Muggleborn I'm subsidizing."
The man's eyes widened in shock. "A muggleborn, you say?"
Lucius scoffed. "Don't act so surprised, Ollivander."
"Apologies, Mister Malfoy," the man flushed red in embarrassment. "We'll start with your son."
Draco smirked as he sauntered to the counter beside his father. Ollivander slowly made his way to the back, climbing up a ladder and pulling down a box. He then made his way down and blew the layer of dust off the box as he slid the lid off and took out a brown wand with intricate designs carved into the handle.
"Here we go," Ollivander announced, handing Draco the wand. "Ten inches, vinewood with a dragon heartstring."
Draco took it, gazing at it with newfound interest.
"Well, give it a wave, master Malfoy." Ollivander encouraged.
Hermione snickered as the glass vase sitting on the countertop shattered. Draco quickly put the wand down, a look of unease reflecting in his eyes.
"Oh, no." Ollivander said in a low tone. "That won't do at all." He picked up the wand lying on the countertop and placed it back in its box.
He then walked to the back to grab another and Hermione sighed. This was going to take forever. Leaning against the wall, Hermione crossed her arms and watched as Draco tried wand after wand, each of them failing him spectacularly.
Unable to produce the patience any longer, Hermione cleared her throat. "Is it alright, Mister Malfoy, if I purchase my books while Draco finds his match?"
A look of concern furrowed his brow and Lucius slowly nodded his head. "Make it hasty, Miss Granger, you wouldn't want to get lost in Diagon Alley and find yourself somewhere you're not supposed to be."
Nodding, Hermione turned to Draco and smiled. "Good luck."
"You don't want to wait for me?" Draco asked, pouting.
"Don't pout, Draco," Hermione chastised gently. "I'll be back before you know it."
Without another word being exchanged, Hermione turned and stepped out of the shop's door. Looking both ways, she decided to go left until she found the bookstore she needed to purchase her books from.
Of course she didn't know what she was doing, but being on her own was a relief. She didn't mind Draco's company, not anymore at least, nor Lucius, but Hermione thrived on her own and always had since she arrived at the orphanage. She'd find her way, she'd make sure of it.
As she continued to walk, mesmerized by all the colors and foreign objects she'd never believed existed before, Hermione forgot, for a moment, what she was supposed to be doing. It was as if she were strolling along in another dimension, so different from the world she grew up in.
While everything in the muggle world was bland and uninteresting, the Wizarding world was filled with possibilities and colors and life. How would she be able to go back to the orphanage after witnessing such a beautiful place? Even if everything was unsanitary and a safety hazard, it still couldn't be as bad as the world she came from. Hermione snorted. She guessed it didn't matter anyway, since she was going to rule both worlds.
Coming to a stop in front of a shop that read Flourish and Blotts, Hermione smiled. There were gold-embossed books that were the size of paving slabs displayed in the window and she was positive she could get her school books there.
Walking in, Hermione pursed her lips as she pulled out her school list, going through the books that were required. Muttering under her breath, she repeated the titles of the books she needed and shoved the list back into her dress pocket.
Taking notice of her surroundings, Hermione gasped, covering her mouth in shock. There were shelves upon shelves of books in every corner of the shop that lined the walls, from ceiling to floor. The inside was way larger than what it appeared on the outside and it was brilliant! She shrieked in excitement and slowly tread carefully a couple steps as she spun around, taking it all in, ignoring the other shoppers. She inhaled deeply, the smell of fine leather and old pages filling her nose. Exhaling happily, Hermione gave a curt nod and began her search on the higher level of the store.
Roaming around the shop as she began to stack books upon books in her arms, she sighed, setting them down on an empty table in the corner of the bookstore. She then stalked off to hunt down the last book she needed on her school list; A Beginner's Guide To Transfiguration by Emeric Switch. It was quite interesting, the books that were required, but what really tickled her funny was The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. It would take more than a book to shield themselves from her once she was powerful enough to take over.
Finally, Hermione found her last required book and decided to also purchase Hogwarts: A History, Pure-Blood Directory, The Tales of Beedle the Bard and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.
With the books stacked upon her arms, Hermione struggled carrying them as she walked up to the register.
"I'd like to purchase these," Hermione dropped the books, gently, onto the countertop. "For school, please."
The man smiled, going through each book as he shrunk and bagged them. "That'll be twenty galleons."
"Erm—" pursing her lip, Hermione smiled hesitantly. "Lucius Malfoy said I could charge it to my gringotts account?"
"Lucius Malfoy, you say." The man raised an eyebrow. "Very well. May I see your wand?"
Chuckling sheepishly, she shook her head. "I hadn't gotten around to that yet."
Sighing, he whipped out his wand. "Name, first and last?"
"Hermione Granger."
Swiftly flicking his wand, a blue light emitted from the tip and hit the black chalkboard hanging on the wall behind him, her name written down in white chalk with the number twenty next to it.
"Your account will be charged and you'll receive a statement." He grabbed the bags and handed them to her. "Have a good day."
Taking the bags, impressed, Hermione asked, "That's it?"
"Well, yes." The man smiled. "If you had lied, you'd have been jinxed and I don't think you'd be able to heal the scars."
Hermione smiled sweetly at him as she ruffled through her purchased books, pulling out Hogwarts: A History. "Luck for you, that wasn't the case."
The man sputtered and Hermione quickly turned, strolling out of the shop, Hogwarts: A History flipped open to the first chapter.
Intrigued by the book she was currently skimming through, Hermione slowed her mindless wondering, glancing down a dodgy alleyway she hadn't noticed before. Closing her book with a snap, she tucked the item in the crook of her arm as she stepped closer to the opening, squinting her eyes to read the wooden plaque attached to a pointed hand.
"Knockturn Alley," murmured Hermione under her breath.
The alleyway sent shivers down her spine and she knew perfectly well she shouldn't go down it, but she was always curious and no one said to avoid the unknown place, but no one suspected her to go off on her own either. Lucius' words began to swarm her mind and softly sucking in her bottom lip, she hesitated.
It was quite reckless of her to go down and be nosy, but she really wanted to explore what was down there. Besides, it couldn't be that bad.
Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione looked both ways and turned down the alley. It was dark, shady people scattered about who looked absolutely horrible. Grimacing, she avoided bumping into anything and thought of turning back around— it was quite filthy.
No.
She's here.
Tilting her head, Hermione tried to puzzle out what the voice had meant by that. She was unaware of meeting anyone in such a shifty place. Glancing around, Hermione squinted her eyes, looking for— who, she had no idea, but the alleyway was full of witches who her siren could be referring to.
Hesitating to move forward, Hermione glanced behind her, the way that would take her back to safety. She was completely daft if she went forward but couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know who the mysterious person she was supposedly meeting. Of course, she trusted her siren with her life, but she was beginning to doubt it at the moment.
Keep going, my little Hermione.
Sighing heavily, Hermione trudged on, her face blank and ignoring the dirty witches and wizards staring at her. She passed a shop called Borgin and Burkes— now she was aimlessly walking without a clue where to go but she was determined to reach the end of the alley, hoping the witch was there.
Pausing in front of a pub called The White Wyvern, Hermione scowled at the place. It wasn't very hygienic, was it?
"Can I help you, missy," a voice croaked and Hermione quickly turned, controlling her grimace as she took in the ugly witch.
If the ugly witch, moles coating her face, was the woman she were to meet, Hermione would turn right around and head back to Diagon Alley. There was no way she would be close to someone who looked as if she were carrying multiple diseases.
Keep going.
Now.
"No," Hermione sneered, looking on with absolute disgust. "You may not."
Hermione scurried off, her pace quick and steady, ignoring the witch's cackling.
"Where am I going?" Hermione murmured under her breath, her heart pounding faster and faster as she began to go further into the dodgy town. It was the opposite of Diagon Alley; dark and eerily questionable.
It was quite strange that the two places were connected but obviously opposite from one another. While Diagon was full of life and happiness, Knockturn was dark and dreadful. Even the sun didn't reach this part of town, the clouds dark and the air tense and… off.
Keep going.
Startled, Hermione didn't dare turn around to the loud laughter echoing behind her. She picked up her steps, ignoring the tittering surrounding her. Her pace quickened, watching a man shout 'grab her!' and she found herself racing down the alley, everything around her a blur. There were shouts for her to stop, but she refused and knew they began to chase after her.
Who knew what they would do. Use her body parts for potions or eat her heart to gain her powers while they sold the rest of her organs. It was quite dodgy and Hermione wouldn't put it past anyone able to do anything and it all seemed fair game if given the chance. Not once had Hermione seen a cheerful person or even officers about.
Screaming, Hermione dropped into a crouch, covering her face with her hands as she cowered in front of the biggest snake she'd ever encountered. Hearing it's loud hiss, she fell back, her eyes widening. The snake was at least twelve feet with forest green scales that glimmered as the dim light touched its scrutes. It's eyes were thin, black, vertical pupils surrounded by yellow. It was coiled underneath itself while the head bobbed left, then right, it's forked tongue flicking in and out of its mouth.
Hermione began crawling back, whimpering as the snake towered over her, slithering toward her slowly.
"Please," Hermione whispered, on the verge of tears.
It was ridiculous to beg a snake that, no doubt, could understand her, but she was, literally, on her own. Quickly glancing over her shoulder to check if anyone was behind to help, she groaned as she turned back to the predator that was about to eat her whole— she'd rather take her chances with the mob than the predator that continued to slither towards her. Of course everyone had abandoned her, the cowards.
Nagini.
"Nagini?" Hermione asked dubiously, her eyes still wide as she stared at the snake.
The snake nodded its head and hissed, "yesss, who are you?"
Flinching, Hermione slowly held up her hands where the snake could see them. "I'm— I'm Hermione."
Slithering towards her, Hermione held her breath as the snake threaded her heavy body through her legs and around her abdomen up to her neck, it's flathead inches from her face. The snake was fully wrapped around her and her breath hitched from the tightness.
"You underssstand me." It hissed, it's tongue lightly touching her cheek.
"Yes," Hermione squeaked.
"You reek of massster."
Clearing her throat, Hermione took a deep breath, the snake constricting securely around her. "I— I don't know. Please."
"Massster'sss name."
"I—"
Voldemort.
"Voldemort!" Hermione shouted, hissing in pain. She could hardly breath and she was beginning to feel light headed.
"V—Vold—Voldemort." Hermione breathed, her eyes slowly closing. He airway felt completely blocked off as she began to wheeze, her lungs began to swell within her.
The snake unwound itself around her and Hermione laid back, respiring deeply, curling into a ball, her eyes shut tight.
"I'm gonna die." She murmured. "This is how I die."
"Don't be ridiculousss."
Snapping her eyes open, Hermione carefully sat up as she began to scoot backwards on her hands and bum, shaking her head. "What do you want."
"I'm Nagini," the snake hissed. "I protect you."
Hermione paused, startled by its answer. "Why?"
"Massster protectsss me, I protect massster."
"I don't know—" Gasping, she watched a bright gold light surrounded her and was amazed as Nagini shrunk down to the size of a garden snake, the gold light flickering out completely. She then slithered rapidly towards Hermione, sliding up her small frame and around her arm.
"Mine."
Confused, Hermione held her arm out, befuddled, as she gaped at the snake that was currently wrapped around her arm, it's head resting over the back of her palm and her tail firmly tucked under the hollow of her arm beneath her shoulder.
"I don't understand." Hermione muttered, feeling slightly better than she did before. "Why would you—"
"You bring massster back. I ssstay with you."
Hermione slowly nodded, not having a clue who her master was. She would have to ask Tom since her voice knew the snake and it was possible that Tom was connected to Voldemort— which was an odd name.
"You won't hurt me?" Asked Hermione, surveying the snake suspiciously.
The snake tightened its body around her arm, causing Hermione to wince.
"Don't disssappoint."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione groaned as she slowly stood on her feet. Sighing as she peered down the road she had run down, she was dreading the trek back to Diagon Alley.
"I protect you."
Hermione began to make her way down the alley, her brows furrowed as she passed the many shops— witches and wizards cowering as she passed.
"What's happening?" Hermione asked under her breath. "Why are they acting so weird?"
"Cowardsss. Keep going."
Nodding, Hermione passed the pub, then Borgin and Burkes and was relieved when she found the entrance to Diagon Alley.
Hermione muttered, "Can you stay hidden? I don't want anyone else freaking out."
Nagini hissed and Hermione wasn't sure if the snake had agreed or not.
"I have to purchase my wand." She informed her, as she began to make her way back to Ollivanders. "Then we need to meet up with the Malfoy's."
When she approached the wand shop, Hermione yanked the door open and stepped inside. The Malfoy's were gone which meant Draco had found his wand and was now purchasing his books. She hoped they hadn't forgotten her— she wouldn't know where to begin to get back to the orphanage.
"Ah. Back again, I see."
Hermione smiled. "Yes."
"Com closer, dear." Ollivander grinned. "What was your name again?"
"Hermione Granger, sir." She stepped up to the counter and smiled.
"Ah, yes." Ollivander said. "Wait here, I think I know exactly the type of wand that will do you good."
The man walked to the back, humming a tune. He grabbed one of the many boxes on the shelves and made a noise of agreement. As he made his way back towards Hermione, he smiled.
Laying the box on the counter, he slipped the lid off and gently picked up the brown wand. "Twelve inches, Walnut with a dragon heartstring."
Hermione grabbed the wand and gasped as her hair unfurled from her elastic band as it broke with a loud snap, her wild curls spiraling in different directions. She quickly put it down, glaring at the wand owner.
"Oh, my," Ollivander said, startled, his eyes wide and his mouth forming an O. "Nope, clearly not that one."
He placed the wand back into the box and went to grab another. "Surely this will suffice." He took the wand out of its box, throwing the lid over his shoulder. "Twelve inches, red oak paired with unicorn hair."
Narrowing her eyes, Hermione slowly reached for the wand and shrieked, snatching her hand away, the bottom of her dress catching on fire. Ollivander pulled out his wand, putting it out quickly.
"I am terribly sorry," he said, amused. "That's never happened before."
"You can't be serious." Hermione said, appalled. "Are all the wands you pick intend to harm me? If so, I'd rather—"
"No, no, Miss Granger." Ollivander reassured. "Let's not be too hasty now. This is perfectly normal until you find your match."
Sighing, Hermione nodded as she watched Ollivander head to the back to grab another.
The third wand she was given had shattered the windows in his shop. —"Oh, dear. That is clearly not the one." — The fourth had burned her fingers — "nothing a little spell won't heal, Miss Granger, not to worry." — while the fifth had blown up the books on the shelves. — "I've never cared much about those, anyhow." — And the sixth had splintered the counter in half. — "Well, I'll say."
Every incident she had made with the six wands was a disappointment and every time, Ollivander had to repair her mess.
Sighing heavily, Hermione began to rub her temples in frustration. "Maybe this isn't working—"
"Not to worry, my dear." Ollivander declared, unfazed. "We will find your wand, Miss Granger, if it is the last thing I do. I'll say, you are the first to have gone through six wands! Amazing, it is. Simply—" He stopped mid sentence, observing Hermione with curious eyes. "Unless…"
He quickly hurried to the back and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Batty old man."
Grimacing, Hermione ran her fingers through her mane, her fingers catching in the tangled ends. Thanks to the many wands she had tried, her hair was an absolute mess and she smelled like burnt paper or hair— whichever smelled fouler, and to say she was annoyed was an understatement. She wouldn't doubt at all if there were black ash on her face from the damn bookshelf she was standing next to.
"Here we are!" Ollivander announced, a black box in his hand. "Now, Miss Granger. This wand is highly illegal in the wizarding world and I could be thrown in Azkaban, a horrible prison in wizarding Britain, along with you by my side."
Livid, Hermione threw her hands in the air. "Then why give me the wand? Are you trying to get me killed, you old cod!"
She knew it was wrong to take her frustration out on the old man who clearly didn't deserve it— and really, it wasn't his fault she couldn't find her match, but she was so annoyed and agitated.
Ollivander looked displeased and gently shook his head. "I trust you enough to be mature about this, Miss Granger. Am I wrong?"
Narrowing her eyes, Hermione asked, "what is it?"
Ollivander slowly turned around, "I don't think—"
"I'm sorry!" Hermione burted. "I was rude and I shouldn't have called you a cod, you look nothing like a cod, and I'm— I just thought this was going to be simple and it's not and I'm— please forgive me. I really didn't mean to—"
"Good." Ollivander said, swiftly turning back around, smiling, as he laid the black box onto the countertop.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Did you just… You tricked me!"
"Shh!" Ollivander hushed. "We do not have a lot of time before Lucius comes and collects you." He briskly snapped the lid off the box and set it aside. "This is the last of it's kind and has been banned for many years and for good reason."
Hermione was mesmerized once she set her eyes upon the black wood that had intricate lines of silver swirling from the tip of the wand down to the handle. The handle itself was also black with silver patterns carved into the wood that were oddly shaped as spiderwebs.
"It is highly dangerous, Miss Granger." Ollivander warned her. "And if you're not careful, you could lose your mind to insanity and never be able to return."
"Why would you give this to me then?" Hermione asked, unable to take her eyes off the wand.
"Wands are a tricky business, dear." He said, smiling fondly at the wand himself. "They have their own way of thinking and connecting to who they think will suit their needs."
"How?" She asked, itching to touch the wand in its box but knew not to. "How is that possible? They're just wands, right? To help the caster cast spells and other magical things."
Ollivander laughed. "It isn't nearly that simple, Miss Granger. Each wand consists of a specific wood with a magical substance such as Unicorn hair or a phoenix hair. This," He gestured to the box, "is something else entirely."
"Like what?" Hermione asked, not even realizing the two were talking in hushed tones. "What does it do?"
"This, my dear, is a fifteen inch, ebony wood paired with an acromantula web as its core." Ollivander informed her. "I shouldn't, Merlin forbids, but I've always been the curious sort." He motioned for Hermione to pick it up. "Give it a wave, Miss Granger."
Shaking her head, Hermione said, suspiciously. "How can I trust you? For all I know this wand is my match and you call the authorities now and have me locked away."
"I swear it, Miss Granger, I will do no such thing." Ollivander said sincerely.
"If this wand is highly illegal," Hermione mocked. "Then why do you have it? What's stopping me from telling an adult right now and be rid of it and you forever?"
Ollivander gave her a pointed look. "I've kept this wand for many years, Miss Granger, unable to dispose of it— it would be a waste and I do not have the heart to do so, otherwise. It's the last model in existence, never to be made again.
"Anyone who is skilled enough to match it always becomes a dark lord or lady, ultimately converting to a criminal life, but you," he chuckled, a noise that was croaked and strained. "You're different, I could feel it in my very old bones."
"You're assuming a lot right now, Mister Ollivander. I'm no dark lady." Hermione spat, sneering at the old man. "I'm a mud— muggleborn."
The old man lifted a grey eyebrow in amusement, but shook his head. He then pushed the box towards her. "Enlighten an old man, will you."
Sighing, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. If she were to take the wand, someone was bound to know what it was and she would attract unwanted attention.
Unless… "if someone were to recognize the wand—"
"That is highly unlikely, Miss Granger." Ollivander informed her. "It has been banned from the Wizarding world since the late 1500's. No one alive would be able to calculate what it truly is, therefore, if you were, let's say, found out— I would be in just as much trouble as you were to be and do you honestly believe I would hand you this wand if that were the outcome? Everyone knows that you purchase your wand from Ollivanders."
"Then how would they—"
Ollivander chuckled. "That is when it calls attention, dear," cutting her sentence off. Again. "The magic you will execute will be highly noticeable. If you were to take the wand, you'd have to take heed in how you perform."
Gazing at the wand, Hermione said, "so, I would have to hold back, is what you're saying?"
"Exactly," Ollivander smiled reassuringly.
"No funny business?" Hermione asked cautiously.
"Never, Miss Granger." Ollivander swore, nodding his head towards the wand.
"You're telling me," Hermione said, her voice doubtful. "That you've been keeping this wand since the 1500's?"
Ollivander sighed heavily. "It's been passed down, Miss Granger."
Nodding in understanding, Hermione hesitantly reached for the black wand, carefully lifting it out of its box. Gasping, she tightened her hold, a jolt of energy shooting straight up her arm and nestling in her soul. It was hers. She could feel the magic tingling in her fingers, feel the aura around her bursting with magic.
It began to ebb away and Hermione smiled, fondly, as she brought the wand inches from her face as she admired the silver design that seemed to glow a radiant silver.
"Well," Ollivander said, a hint of adoration in his voice. "Give it a wave. Something simple." He pointed to the box, "swish and flick, there you go— just like that. And say, 'wingardium leviosa.'"
"Wingardium leviosa," Hermione repeated in a soft voice, gasping as the box began to levitate upwards.
"Well done, well done!" The old man said, clapping rapidly. "I'll say, this wand is your match, Miss Granger."
Smiling brightly, Hermione glanced up and smiled at Ollivander. "Thank you, sir, truly."
"Oh, not a problem at all, dear." He then cleared his throat, leaning over the counter and reaching for her hand. "You will be careful won't you? You won't mind keeping in touch with an old man? I have no family as it is and it'll really make my day if you were to write once in a while and keep me updated."
Squeezing his hand, Hermione nodded. "I will, I promise."
"Then the wand is free of charge." Ollivander confirmed. "But, Miss Granger, do be careful. I would hate to see harm befall you."
Hermione nodded slowly. "I understand, and, really Mister Ollivander, thank you."
"Don't worry too much over it." He smiled, releasing her hand. "Now, you better be off now and do come visit when you get the chance."
Beaming brightly, Hermione nodded and quickly turned, pushing her way through the doors. She held her new wand in her hand, gawking at the beauty of it. She had her wand. She had a wand that would do her wonders.
"Mi!"
Slightly jumping, Hermione quickly pocketed her wand and smiled as Draco ran towards her.
Striding towards him, meeting him halfway, she beamed. "Purchased everything, did you?"
"Of course!" Draco snickered. "What happened to your hair?"
Rolling her eyes and sighing heavily, she nodded her head towards the wand shop. "Wrong match."
Draco tilted his head, examining her wild curls. "I like it. It fits you."
Smiling brilliantly, Hermione laughed. "Liar."
Draco grabbed her hand. "Come on." He began to lead her towards a shop called Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. "Father promised ice cream before we take you back to that rotten place."
Pursing her lips, Hermione agreed reluctantly. He had no idea how rotten it could be and doubted he'd have even the slightest chance of surviving such a horrid place.
"Draco," Hermione began. "Do you think there's a chance of, I don't know, a magical family taking in a magical child who has no parents, blood aside?"
Glancing at her, he shook his head. "Not that I know of? I mean, if it were a pureblood child, they would go to their closest relative. But I've never heard of a magical family taking in a mudblood." He snorted. "Unless they're blood traitors like the Weasley's."
"Blood traitor?" Hermione queried, shaking her head. "What is that, exactly?"
"A family who associates themselves with filth." He sneered.
Hermione yanked her hand out of his and quickly grabbed his arm. "Do not, Draco Malfoy, be so quick to judge."
He furrowed his brows in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well I'm a mudblood and you're talking to me, aren't you?" Asked Hermione, hoping he at least understood he was being a hypocrite.
"You don't count." He told her. "Father thinks—"
"Don't," Hermione interrupted. "Go off on what your father thinks. What do you think about mudbloods?"
Draco began to scratch the back of his head, momentarily appearing disconcerted. "I'm not for sure, Mi. You're the first mudblood I've actually met."
His answer really wasn't a shock and she was foolish to think he would answer differently, but it was worth a shot to ask.
Sighing, Hermione gave him a small smile. She grabbed his hand. "Come one, let's go meet your father, yeah?"
Draco blinked and nodded slowly. "I don't mean to offend you, Mi—"
"You haven't," she assured him, smiling. "Everything will be fine."
"Are you excited about tomorrow?" Draco asked nervously, no doubt trying to lift her spirits.
Smiling, she nodded. "Of course, I am."
Holding in her sigh, Hermione had a lot to do before the school year ended.
She would have to speak with Tom before the day was over. He would be either disappointed she heard nothing about his person or quite pleased that everyone forgot about him— she doubted that he would be pleased at all; he seemed too prideful of a wizard to use that to his advantage.
Not to mention Voldemort. If there was another Dark Lord out there, she'd make sure to mention it to Tom and find a way to get rid of the snake that was currently curled around her arm. It wasn't that Nagini was horrible— she actually thought she was pretty amazing, but if her master was a threat to her, of course, she would have to dispose of the serpent.
Which brought her back to what Tom had asked of her. Hermione hadn't bothered to eavesdrop on secret conversations. She had forgotten, but she'd make sure not to mention that to Tom. His mood swings would give her whiplash one day. It was best if she kept it straight and simple and out of mind. She had plenty of time to gather information about that throughout the year at Hogwarts.
Squeezing Draco's hand, Hermione smiled softly at him. She would definitely not be informing Tom of her budding friendship with Draco, Theo and Harry. Who knew what he would do. She did not appreciate him claiming her like some pet and she would kill him if he harmed them.
But who would protect them from you, my little Hermione.
Wincing, Hermione knew her siren had a point, but she would ignore that for now. She didn't want to even think about her 'friendship' ending before it had even begun and she refused to only have Tom as a friend— that was depressing in itself.
Draco squeezed her hand back with a lopsided grin, bringing her to the here-and-now, pulling her away from her depressing thoughts. She would enjoy her companionship before taking precaution— but mostly before Tom found out. She really had to take care of that situation before it escalated into a disaster.
No. Tom would know soon enough.