Chapter Eighteen
Hermione was sat with Ron, who was finally speaking to her again, in the buzzing Gryffindor common room one evening when Harry threw himself between them, having just returned from Quidditch practice.
"What's happened?" he asked.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," replied Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old notice board. "End of October, Halloween."
"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," Hermione said. "They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already."
Whilst she still felt bad that she hadn't told him about Draco's suspicions, Hermione realised that they had made the right decision when Harry and Ron continued thinking of ways to sneak him into the village. Eventually agreeing to ask Professor McGonagall.
To nobody's surprise, McGonagall declined to sign his permission form. So, on Halloween morning, Harry sat looking very sorry for himself at the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ron tried to cheer him up but it didn't seem to work very well.
Draco scowled as he saw his friend and the Weasel walk alone together into Hogsmeade. They were standing far too close to each other.
A few days later, Hermione shuffled into the Great Hall with the other Gryffindors after discovering that Sirius Black had made an attempt to get into their common room. She shuddered at the realisation of how close he had come to finding Harry.
Ten minutes later, they were joined by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. She immediately caught sight of Draco and, whilst very few people would notice anything different about him, Hermione could feel the worry emanating from him. The relief that filled his eyes when he caught sight of her made her breath catch in her throat.
Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and hundreds of soft purple sleeping backs appeared. Harry, Ron, and Hermione seized some bedding and withdrew to the side of the Hall. They spoke a little, whilst also listening to the rumours flying around the students.
Eventually, Percy shouted, "the lights are going out now!" and everything faded to black.
Hermione closed her eyes and, as she rolled over, she knocked into another body lying next to her. A scent almost as familiar as her own overcame her. "How did you get here?" she whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible.
"Everyone's too excited to notice much of anything at the moment," Draco replied. "I was so worried about you."
Hermione was surprised, it was rare for him to be so forthcoming with his emotions. When he was, she knew how much it meant. She reached out to grasp his hand and he gently laced their fingers together. Hermione's heart pounded.
"I'm okay, I wasn't even in the tower."
"You could have been though, from what I've heard it was very close." Draco took a small breath, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Hermione. You're my best friend."
Even as he said those last two words, he knew they didn't quite match what he was feeling. But he didn't know how else to describe it.
"Will you stay, for a while?" she asked, on the edge of sleep now.
"For as long as you want me."
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder.
The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Nobody was very happy about this.
Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day. In her near exhausted state, this was the last thing Hermione needed.
Unfortunately, life was not planning on making things any easier for her.
Hermione was not at all pleased. Why had Fred and George thought it a good idea to give Harry, of all people, a magical map that all but encouraged rule breaking. When she had merely suggested that of course he was going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, he and Ron had stared at her as though she had grown an extra head.
That blasted map was the reason Harry had snuck into Hogsmeade to find her and Ron. Which had subsequently led to them finding out that Sirius Black was Harry's godfather and had been James Potter's best friend. Not only that, but Draco had been right, Black was a traitor and had betrayed Harry's parents.
He was a mess and there was nothing either Hermione or Ron could do to help him. Harry had barely spoken for the rest of the day, or the one after that. It was only when the common room had emptied for the Christmas holidays that he finally started talking again.
"Malfoy knows," Harry said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? He was right: I do want to hunt him down, hurt him, get revenge."
Hermione was struck by the callousness in Harry's voice but she could understand it, to a certain extent. After all, Black was the reason Harry had never even spoken to his parents. But ultimately, she knew it wouldn't be what his parents wanted, and she told him this. It didn't go down well and an awkward silence fell.
"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's – let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"
"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron –"
"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up. "I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"
Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind. "Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set –"
"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.
So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole, down through the empty castle, and out of the oak front doors.
They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with a dusting of silver.
Ron knocked, but there was no answer.
"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.
After a few more minutes, and some unusual noises coming from the cabin, Hagrid opened the door. Tears were pouring down his weather-beaten cheeks.
"Oh Hagrid," Hermione whispered. "What's happened?"
He handed them a damp piece of parchment and then they understood. Lucius Malfoy had complained about Buckbeak after Draco had been attacked and now the case was being passed to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.
"You'll just have to put up a good strong defence, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."
The boys nodded vigorously, and Hagrid smiled weakly at them all.
The camaraderie the trio had shared in Hagrid's hut was short-lived, and the rest of Hermione's Christmas holidays dragged by. Harry and Ron had been stubbornly ignoring her after she informed Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt Harry had received. Hermione knew how excited they had been upon finding the present but, without any note of the sender, how could Harry risk using the broomstick?
She thought back to the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match where a familiar wave of bitter cold had swept over the stadium. It was eerily silent and, slowly, at least a hundred Dementors had risen towards Harry. She had been absolutely terrified and then he had fallen.
Shuddering at the memory, Hermione turned quickly back to her Hippogriff research. Books were strewn all over the library table as she fervently worked through each and every one. She imagined that Draco would be appearing some time this evening as he was now back in the castle. Another issue for her to deal with.
"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," Hermione muttered to herself. "Where is it?"
"Talking to yourself, Granger?" a voice behind her drawled. "First sign of madness, you know."
She glared over her shoulder, "why don't you take a look at these books, Malfoy."
"Oh," was all he said.
"How long have you known?" Hermione asked him.
Draco sighed and slid into the seat next to her, subtly inhaling the scent he had missed so much. "A while now," he admitted. "I wanted to tell you, I - I just wasn't sure how, I knew you'd be mad at me."
"You can't not tell me things because you think I'll be mad. That's not how a friendship is supposed to work."
"Yes, I realise that," Draco frowned.
"Did you -" Hermione paused, taking a breath before continuing, "did you want this to happen?"
"No, of course not. Once my father heard what had happened there was no stopping him. Father has very… specific ideas about how Hogwarts ought to be run and he wants Dumbledore out. The Hippogriff was just a means to an end; the more he can discredit the Headmaster, the better."
"And, there's nothing you can say to your father for him to change his mind?"
Draco looked her incredulously, "no, never. Merlin, I imagine he'd pass me over to the Dark Lord if he thought it would benefit him in some way."
Her eyes widened. Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Draco, growing up. Whilst he was made to believe he was better than everyone else, he was also essentially encouraged to have no free-will: no questioning, do as you're told.
"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione said.
He shrugged, "it is what it is. But, for what it's worth, I am sorry about the Hippogriff."
"You could help me? I'm trying to get something together for his hearing."
Draco knew it was futile, but just one glimpse into her hopeful eyes told him he could never refuse her anything. "Fine, Granger. How did you know this is exactly how I was hoping to spend my time, thank you for such a thoughtful gift."
She stuck her tongue out at him and reached over for another book.