Summary of chapter 44: Draco is struggling a lot as he comes to terms with the abuse his parents have put him through. Ginny and Hermione get into an argument. Snape offers Draco the best advice he can. Harry, Ron, and Hermione lace the Slytherin goblets with Veritaserum, forcing every student to confess their deepest secret if drank. Blaise was warned not to drink it. Hermione is forced into detention with Snape for a month. although he accuses her of stealing Polyjuice ingredients from her. Draco is mad at Hermione. Bulstrode is now Maximilian.
A/N: You are all amazing. I just checked my stats and saw that there are 500 favorites and over 800 followers and I just. I screamed, haha. Also, this chapter is ALOT, so sorry for the word count. Happy holidays!
TW: Depression, self-deprecation, suicidal thoughts, references to child abuse.
"You promised I would have her after you were elected."
"Did I ever specify when after my election?"
Oswald Fudge slammed both of his hands on to Minister Griselda Marchbanks' desk in a fit of rage. "You PROMISED!" He roared, but Griselda hardly flinched at the weak intimidation tactic.
She held his eye contact as she slowly stood up. "I am not your father, Oswald." Griselda, although she was of average height, was an imposing figure when she needed to be. She channeled all her years of experience as an Auror, Wizgamont Member and politician into one gaze as she peered down her hooked nose at him. Sensing he had messed up, Oswald removed his hands from the surface of her desk before taking his seat again. "Your tantrums have no power over me and while I thank you for the little help you gave in helping me gain your father's position, I will not risk my title in paying back what I owe. You will have the Granger girl in your possession, but it will come in due time."
"What I did was not little -"
"What you were supposed to do was not little. You did nothing in getting your father out of office, he did that all on his own. Even then, he is still alive when you promised me his head." Oswald pressed his lips together at that, and Griselda knew she had won, but she still wanted to deliver the final blow. She walked around the desk and hunched over as she spoke to him. "And yet, I still plan on paying you the price you asked for. You want her for your little experiments? You will have her, but we will make sure that she goes as silent as possible. Do you understand me?"
Oswald looked up at her from beneath the brim of his black bowler hat before he cast his eyes back down to the area of stone between his dulled dress shoes he donned that morning. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Minister." He ground out between clenched teeth.
"Very -" A knock on the door and the head of her Secretary appeared behind the door. Griselda straightened her looming posture and gave a smile that said she was displeased with the interruption. "Yes, Cheryl?"
The witch ducked her head in an apology before stepping inside. "Healer Augsen is here to see you."
"Very well. Fudge, was there anything more I could do for you today?" Griselda's voice was sickly sweet in the worst way.
"No, ma- Minister." Oswald slipped past the secretary, only for Aquila Augsen to take her place, holding a manila envelope in one arm.
Once the door clicked shut, Dr. Augsen walked forward. "You wanted to see me Minister?"
"Yes!" Griselda clapped her hands together and motioned to the empty seat Oswald had just occupied. "Please, sit! Would you like any tea?"
"No, thank you. I appreciate my Minister's kindness." Dr. Augsen dipped her head before she sat down.
"Of course." Griselda linked her fingers together and twirled her thumbs around each other very slowly as she watched Dr. Augsen. The Mind Healer left her with an odd feeling. There was something off about the Healer that the Minister couldn't pin point. In Griselda's eyes, the small hunch made her untrustworthy. "So how is our favorite patient doing?"
"She has been doing well enough, she runs into the same problems any teen would her age – falling out with friends for example – but her responses to new stress variables are satisfactory, for the most part."
"Yes, yes, I had hoped so now that you are weening her off of the dreamless sleep draught but... I think it's time now that we weened her off of seeing you." Griselda raised her eyebrows when Dr. Augsen froze.
"I'm sorry?"
"She's doing well, isn't she? I don't see why the Ministry needs to keep holding her hand." Griselda's face was one of mild amusement watching the confused therapist. "I think it would be ideal for you to finish the month out, and then we can leave her be. Let her live her life in..." Griselda made a grand gesture to the air around them. "Peace."
Dr. Augsen was in utter disbelief at the Minister's ignorance. Even without Marchbanks knowing about the memory charm Hermione had – as Fudge insisted it not be documented - she thought it was obvious Hermione loosing her parents was something that was not going to improve by leaps and bounds anytime soon. Hermione needing therapy would be a long term commitment. "I do apologize Minister, but Hermione is far from being able to be on her own. She -"
"She won't be on her own," Griselda leaned back into her button back chair. "She has the Malfoys - such a nice Pureblood family - and if she truly is having regular teenage troubles, she has a rotating door of friends she can confide in instead of you."
Dr. Augsen let out a long breath through her nose, never taking her eyes off of her boss. How disappointing, another blood-purist. And here I thought that the next female Minister after Artemisia Lufkin would have done something stellar for our community. "That type of thinking is what contributes to the stigma of mental illness and trauma. The friends you keep are not rubbish bins you dump your feelings into, they're also humans – not to mention that teens are not health care professionals. Venting to anyone can be done, and it may help, but only a true healer can help you come up with a plan on how to find remission from your troubles - Oh, and let's not forget that recovery isn't always linear, Minister. Hermione is going to need someone who knows what they are doing once she slips up again. Like she did this week." Griselda was no longer smiling, but before she could get a word in, Dr. Augsen held out the manila envelope with a stiff arm. "My most recent update to Hermione Granger's file. I thought you would like to see it since you are keeping close tabs on her." Griselda snatched it from Dr. Augsen's hand and pulled out the duplicated letter with two gnarled fingers. "It seems Hermione has mostly been doing well. She has, however, decided to act out at Hogwarts by distributing Veritaserum to an entire house -"
"Veritaserum? Where did she get it?" Griselda's eyes skimmed the parchment rapidly before it finally ended on Deputy Headmistress' Minerva McGonagall's grandiose script.
"I believe she's brewed it."
"Brewed it? I thought she was only in her fourth year." Griselda had a history with Veritaserum as she was one of the Wizgamont members who pushed use of it in court to be passed. It helped make trials much more speedy.
"Hermione is a bright girl." The pride in Dr. Augsen's voice was thinly veiled, and Griselda was interested by its meaning. "She's just a troubled child. I believe this would be evident to prove that she is in need of my care much longer than the next two weeks. We do want to encourage our youth to live healthy life styles, don't we? "
Griselda did not let her discontent show and slipped the parchment back into the envelope. There was no way out of it, she was going to have to find another way to get Hermione to the St. Mungo's ward Oswald over saw. The plan she hatched should have been simple: Have Granger removed from Augsen's care, have Theodore Nott slip her another laced potion if she does not have another trip again, then have her carted to St. Mungo's for Oswald to evaluate her. "Yes, I suppose that is right. Continue with your sessions then and we will revisit Granger in the future." In the meantime, Augsen, I will be looking into who you are.
There were few times Lucius had found himself in Muggle London without a Death Eater mask on, and it was unnerving every time. Even as he stepped on to Loving Hands Orphange's property – his property, he reminded himself – he felt completely out of place - not that anyone could tell by looking at him.
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy! How wonderful it is to see you." The receptionist at the front desk jumped up before the door he passed through could close. She smoothed down her skirt as she came around the front desk. "Are you looking for Mrs. Malfoy?"
"Of course."
Lucius watched the receptionist grow a little more nervous at the short reply, and she promptly left the room to in form Narcissa of his arrival. Seeing her run off made him feeling like he was the most dangerous person in the room, and realized how much he had been relying on that familiar comfort to get through his post-Death Eater years. Lucius thought that when Hermione lost their bet, he would attempt to treat Crewe even better. He had stopped using the elf as a punching bag recently, but that didn't mean Crewe didn't cower in Lucius' presence.
Only a beat after he heard a roar of distant laughter did the receptionist return. "She'll be two doors down, on your left."
Lucius didn't say thank you before he stalked off in the direction the woman had pointed him in. When he opened the door, he found Narcissa sitting in a room with roughly eight children that were all surrounding her. If he didn't know that Narcissa was half fairy and heard his careful footfalls, he would have thought that she was unaware he had walked into the room, as she didn't break her animated narration of the book she was reading out loud. "'And this was not the half of the Magic. The fact that he had really once stood on his feet had set Colin thinking tremendously and when Mary told him of the spell she had worked he was excited and approved of it greatly. He talked of it constantly.
""Of course there must be lots of Magic in the world," he said wisely one day, "but people don't know what it is like or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen. I am going to try and experiment."'" Narcissa paused and pretended to look at the time. "Well would you look at that," Narcissa closed the book and make eye contact with every child. "It's time for lunch."
Several of the kids groaned while the rest of them hissed a relieved 'yes' as they got up. Most of the children, who Lucius could now see that their ages were still in the primary school range, got up and exited out of the door he was standing by. Two girls stayed behind and approached Narcissa, the younger one who looked to be about four or five, clung to the older girls dress skirt with one hand while she sucked on the other. Both girls shared the same bronze complexion and mussy dark hair, cluing him in that they were at least related, if not sisters. Narcissa gave a welcoming smile, as if she had expected them to stay behind. "Good afternoon, Tabitha."
The older girl had her hair tied into a ponytail that had a blue bow around the base. Lucius was amused to see the young girl, who must have around the age of seven or eight, set her shoulders and speak with a confidence that should have taken her a few more years to gain. "Mrs. Malfoy, Last time you were here you said that if there were any books we would like read, we should tell you about them."
Lucius watched Narcissa's face brighten as she reflexively reached into her dress pocket for her wand, before remembering that she could not conjure parchment and ink in front of the muggle girls. "Go ahead and tell me the name of it." Lucius started to withdraw his wand to do so for her, but Narcissa shook her head at him over the girl's shoulder.
Tabitha caught the movement and twisted around to look at him. Her brown eyes looked him over once and her cheek dimpled when she frowned. "Why are you wearing pants under your dress?" The girl who was clutching Tabitha's skirt stepped to the side to hide from Lucius. He thought if the girl was anymore scared, she would try to disappear under Tabitha's skirt.
Lucius made a sound in the back of his throat, but said nothing. While he shared Narcissa's love for children, she was much better at handling them.
Narcissa pressed the lips of her fingers to her lips to stop herself from laughing as she waved Lucius over. "Actually, he's wearing robes. There are different styles and today Lucius has chosen a set that closely resembles a dress. See how it opens in the front? It's much different than what you and Talia are wearing." She spoke slowly, not to overwhelm the girl, but Narcissa spoke as if the conversation was with any other adult. Using baby talk or speaking at a lower language level was not something that they had even done with Draco, so they saw no reason why they should impede the growth of language skills for the children in their care.
Tabitha studied Lucius' clothes carefully, processing the information Narcissa supplied her with. "Why are you wearing robes when you would look the same in a dress?"
Lucius felt his eye twitch as his wife fought off another laugh. "I... was cold."
Tabitha shrugged one shoulder and decided she was done with the conversation. "Talia was wondering if you could read us Matilda when we finish reading that one. It was her favorite book before we came here."
Narcissa pretended to consider the request for a moment. "Yes, I think we can do that if you apologize for offending Mr. Malfoy." Narcissa gave Tabitha a pleasant smile that left no real room for argument of her request.
Tabitha faced Lucius once more, this time, she turned completely to do so. She was curious about his refined look as the other adults she saw at the orphanage didn't look so... sterile, but she said what she needed to for her little sister, Talia. "I'm sorry for calling your robe a dress, sir."
"It's quite alright. Now I believe it would be best for you to run along now." Lucius nodded to the door that the rest of the children had left through.
Tabitha and Talia looked at Narcissa for permission, and when they received it from an encouraging nod from the blonde woman, they rushed out without a second glance. "Darling, aren't they?"
"She was judging me."
"I told you not to wear your robes or a cloak when you come here. There's only a handful of children right now and not a single one seems to have a stroke of magic in them." She looked at him with amusement on her face and felt bad that he had come to deliver less than joyful news. Ever since the orphanage had opened twenty days ago on the first of October, Lucius noticed the positive change in Narcissa's mood. As he thought this, Narcissa's face changed into a look of deep contemplation. "Do you think Hermione would know who Matilda was written by? I'll have to owl her, I doubt the girls would know and I would hate not to follow through on something so simple."
"Yes, you will need to owl her." Lucius removed the letter sent to him by Minerva McGonagall and held it out to her. Narcissa took the parchment and scanned it, her head slightly moving side to side as she did so. Lucius on the other hand, picked up the book she had been reading from and eyed the title. The Secret Garden.
"How did she get her hands on Veritaserum in the first place? Did she owl you for the herbs or ingredients? She hasn't asked me for a single thing and I'm sure Severus would have mentioned if she asked him for potion ingredients." Narcissa thought back to the owl she received in Draco's second year when he asked his Godfather for several ingredients for a Beautification potion. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson had annoyed him to the point that he was going to brew her the potion and gift it to her for Christmas with a note that said 'for your personality.'
Lucius had an idea of where Hermione might have procured the potion, but he did not want to say as he thought it would get him kicked out of the bedroom and on to a couch as Narcissa often barred him from using one of their many guest suites when he was in trouble. He opened the hard cover book to see there was an inscription from William Granger written on the flyleaf. "You took this from Hermione's shelf?"
Narcissa carefully pulled the book from his hands. "With permission, I do owl her and Draco regularly." Lucius didn't say anything as he thought about how he had yet to hear from Draco himself. It left him feeling discomposed. He grew fearful feeling that Draco was becoming distant. It was never like that before, even when Lucius was at his worst. His son had always been by his side. "You didn't answer my questions, Lucius."
"I didn't send her any ingredients, only an extra cauldron."
"No?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Stop dancing around, what did you do?" She was in too good of a mood to hex him on the spot as she might have done at the manor, but he headed the rare drawl she used when speaking to him.
"I may have given her Veritaserum."
Narcissa slapped his bicep with the back of the book. "I have half a mind to force you to see a healer. Why would you give a fourteen -"
"Fifteen -" He corrected.
"While I am relieved to know my husband can count, she was fourteen when we brought her to King's Cross Station and you stated you gave the potion to her, meaning she most have been in possession of it before she went back to Hogwarts." Narcissa took a deep breath to calm herself. She hadn't meant to snap at him – it was something she had been working on through the self-help book she had been working out of. "Why?"
Lucius tapped a finger on the base of the snake head on his cane, but maintained eye contact with Narcissa. He thought this was the cosmic forces of life forcing him to reap what he had sown. He provided Hermione with the Veritaserum with the intention of her telling him the truth and now he had to give it. "When I chose not to lie about you and Draco to Hermione, I made her an offer that if she told the truth in the group session we were to have the next day, I would assist her in being made privy to your heritage. I supplied her with an altered version of that she obviously did not take. I imagine she knew that Veritaserum is so potent that it would revert back to its original state, and had decided to use it at a later time."
Narcissa closed her eyes and put her head in her hand, almost as if it was in defeat. Lucius couldn't help but think the orphanage was the best idea they had in years as it helped Narcissa mellow out instead of becoming an additional stressor. "It says Hermione confessed to brewing it and upon inspection of the bathroom she claimed to have brewed it in, they found a cauldron with traces of Knotgrass and Billywig Wings, which are both in Veritaserum."
Lucius didn't miss that when he first read the letter and felt a bit of pride swell in him at the reminder. "She knows how to cover her tracks."
Narcissa's head snapped up to look at him and he immediately stopped smirking. "That better not have been pride I just heard in your voice, Lucius. This type of behavior should not be encouraged. You should have never given her the potion in the first place!" Narcissa paused as her scowl deepened when she realized something. Lucius was confident in guessing what it was. "The Ministry is going to keep an eye on us for a while."
Lucius' eyes swept over the seemingly empty room to ensure they had privacy, but he still decided to switch to French as an extra protective measure. "You won't be able to kill the one who tortured Hermione."
"No. Not yet anyway." Clearing her throat, she stood up and pointed a finger at him. "Since this is your fault, you are going to send her the letter reprimanding her on why this was wrong, but find out why she did it, too." Narcissa's scowled loosened into something that resembled worry. "If she was the type to act out, she would have done so from the start like several of the children here."
Lucius frowned at this. "She just started to tolerate me, I think she would open up more if you reached out to her."
Narcissa thought about this, but shook her head. "She worries too much about impressing me, I doubt she would tell me anything that didn't make her look like she was handling herself. The fact that she was willing to make a deal with you, twice, with out even bothering to bring it up to me, tells me she is willing to show you her grittier side." Lucius couldn't argue with that at all. He had actually been surprised when he informed Narcissa that Hermione made a bet with him on the House Elves and Narcissa was not already aware. "You shouldn't have handed her a potion that the Ministry has a backwards view on." Narcissa walked over to the door and turned around before she reached for it. "They'll closely monitor the flow of ingredients for said potion in the event it gets used, but they won't bother to use it in trials – if they even decide to have one." She tsked and shook her head. Lucius thought she said something that sounded like 'poor Sirius', but he didn't bring it up in the event he misheard her. Narcissa never outwardly expressed her feelings towards her cousins sentence like she had with Bellatrix, and Lucius was unwilling to provoke her in any form. He felt he had gotten off light with only having to play the role of 'Bad Auror' with having to send Hermione a letter. "Are you going to join us for lunch?"
Lucius gave her a small smile before striding over to where she stood so he could open the door for her. "After you."
Immediately following the Veritaserum Prank - as her fellow Gryffindors insisted on calling it - Hermione was no longer allowed to walk the school grounds without an entourage. It was insisted on by her house, namely the Weasley twins, as they had a history of egging on the war that raged between the two houses and knew what to expect.
Fred and George were waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase of the girls dormitory Thursday morning. She completely passed the twins by, not seeing them there as she had raised both hands in the air to stretch while she yawned. She expected for most of the house to be asleep as they usually were at the early hour. The only reason why she had been up well before daylight, was due to the fact that her nightmares were relentless. Her subconsciousness that came in the form of her twelve year old self, had eased up on her after her scar split open in the middle of the night, but a couple weeks after her falling out with Draco, they worsened again. Her dream self begged her to focus on the visions of France, but Hermione was stubborn, arguing that she wanted at least a few hours during the night to have her brain shut off.
When she felt a finger poke both her sides, she yelped. It was only then she saw the two older Weasley brothers. "Well, I suppose I can skip my morning tea, now that you two gave me a fright."
"You're welcome." George beamed at her and she couldn't help but return it with a tired smile.
"What are you two doing up so early? Working on that project no one is supposed to know about?" Hermione assumed that they were still working on their plans for the joke shop in secret, but it didn't explain why they were often seen sneaking to the owlery several times a week. Surely they hadn't run out of the order forms they just replaced after Molly burned the last set that fast.
"Not at all, we're your body guards for the morning. Little Ron isn't up yet and you are a wanted witch." Fred attempted to poke her side again, but she swatted his hand away.
Hermione felt her stomach flip at the reminder of what she had done. She tossed and turned in her bed when she was awoken from her nightmares, feeling horrible about Bulstrode and – dare she say - Parkinson. She had even dreamt about them at one point, their terrified faces swirling in her head. She knew she needed to apologize. Avoiding a serious confession like that was the exact reason why she told Blaise not to drink anything last night! She had not worried about Draco drinking the potion last night as she knew being part fae left him with strong occulemens abilities, meaning he could resist the effects of Veritaserum.
"Honestly, it can't be that bad." She said in an attempt to make herself feel better. "I won't need bodyguards to get to all of my classes."
"Oh, but you will." Fred remarked, much too amused at the prospect of having to protect her. "Especially with the Hufflepuff you just pissed off."
"Hufflepuff? Why would a Hufflepuff care about what I did?" She looked up at him as they entered the Great Hall, mostly to have an excuse not to look at any Slytherin that was in the room. The visual distraction did nothing to stop her ears from picking up the drop in volume from the Slytherin table as they walked by.
"They're 'just, loyal, and unafraid of toil.'" Fred said in an almost sing-song tone. "And they get along well with the slithery gits. Bulstrode just so happens to be friends with Gwendolyn Hedgeflower."
Hermione glanced over to the Hufflepuff table. It unnerved her to see a good portion of them eyeing her as they whispered amongst themselves, but she was somewhat reassured when a sixth year prefect she recognized as Cedric Diggory gave her a polite nod. She returned it with a small wave before he turned to continue the conversation he was having with another prefect in their house.
"She's one of the Beater's for Hufflepuff. In your year if I remember correctly." They took their seats, one twin on each side of her. They faced the rest of the houses to ensure no 'stray' hexes harmed Hermione.
"Wasn't she the Hufflepuff whose Anteoculatia hex was so strong, Alicia kept sprouting antlers for a week?" Oliver Wood was livid when he learned she was unable to participate in Quidditch practice because of it. The time he spent when he was not in the Quidditch field was split between the Infirmary where he pestered Madam Pomfrey about Alicia's status, or in the Library, trying to find obscure cures for antlers that he thought Madam Pomfrey hadn't tried yet.
"The very same." Fred and George in unison.
"And I'll do it again if Spinnet still thinks she can make ableist comments." All three Gryffindors turned around to see Hedgeflower herself standing behind them. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a bun that looked like an over sized donut and her expression looked as if she smelled something rotten. "I made it very clear to her that day I didn't appreciate her talking about Justin's hearing aid." Hermione's eyebrows raised as she remembered the story. Apparently, Alicia and a Ravenclaw in her year were taking turns unhooking Justin's magically modified Behind-The-Ear hearing aid, whilst making rude comments. "And you. Do you have any idea what you could have put Max through if he wasn't surrounded by open-minded friends? Do you know what could have happened to him if he was put into a dorm with someone like Flint or Montague instead of people like Zabini?" Hermione shook her head, not sure of what to say. The shame that filled her as she faced Hedgeflower's heated rage left her speechless. "And the first years -"
"Piss off, Hedgeflower, it's too early for this." George's playful tone was nonexistent and Hermione felt the charged magic roll off the twins in waves. It pressed her on both sides and she felt her own magical core wanting to react. Looking at Fred's face, she saw it closely resembled the ones he and George had on the pitch: They were ready for a scuffle if it came down to it, wands involved or not.
"How about you piss off, Weasley?" Completely unbothered by the defensive air the twins had, Hedgeflower bent forward, resting her hands on her knees and speaking to Hermione with a patronizing tone, almost as if Hermione was a child. "I just wanted to let you know that I am taking what was done to Max, Pansy, and the rest of Slytherin personally." Hedgeflower straightened up to make her leave, but Hermione had found her voice then.
"It wasn't my intention to hurt anyone -" Hedgeflower narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "I'd be more than happy to apologize if-"
"'Apologize?' I thought you were smart, Granger. The damage you just did is not something that gets wiped away with an apology. This is an event that will forever be ingrained in their minds." Hedgeflower crossed her arms over her chest. "You know, before you start going on about Elf rights, maybe you should have some compassion for other wizards first." Hedgeflower spat the last word at Hermione before turning to walk away.
"Maybe you 'ought to stop badgering us." George quipped, causing Hedgeflower to glower at him over her shoulder as Hedgeflower continued to stalk off in the direction of the Hufflepuff table.
"That wasn't so bad," Hermione said in an attempt to calm herself. She finally looked over at the Slytherin table, more out of shame than bravery. Bulstrode, Pansy and Draco were no where to be seen, but she wasn't surprised with how early it was. "I should apologize, anyway. What I did -"
"It's better if you don't," George lifted a plate of sausages and held it up, encouraging Hermione to take a few links off. "They'll think you're just scared of what they'll do."
"And Hedgeflower isn't done. That was a warning – something 'Puffs don't often give when they decide to come out of their dens, so rest assured that we'll be here for you when they decide to attack." Fred forked some eggs on to her plat before he threw a slice of bread on top. Hermione knew from watching them over the years they had a habit of doing this when they were consoling someone. It was clear Molly ingrained that providing a nutritious meal was a way to show love and Hermione wondered how the Weasley matriarch was doing in that moment.
"Setts." She corrected, but Fred's eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion. "Badgers live in setts, not dens."
"Whatevar," Fred rolled his eyes, but he was back to his smiling and joking self. "I think Hedgeflower only made our point that you will need protection so they don't put you in the ground."
Just as Hermione turned her attention to her food, thinking that it was better not to continue arguing, at least for the next couple of days to let Hedgeflower calm down, when a large, dark owl flew in. It was at least an hour before the official owl post delivery was scheduled, but the Malfoys did not seem to mind sending mail when they saw fit. Hermione started to feel miserable eyeing the black envelope that Poseidon held out to her, his leg extended as is he was eager to read what was said.
However, that seemed to only be a ruse. Every time she reached out to the owl, he would open his beak as if he was going to bite. She tried to grab the letter several times, with Fred and George making half-arsed attempts to help as they were unsure if they wanted to laugh at the scene or help prevent Hermione from being bitten.
Poseidon was starting to cause such a commotion, that the other students were beginning to stare at them, bewildered looks on their faces seeing that an owl was winning the fight against three Gryffindors. "Poseidon, this is ridiculous!"
"Miss Granger, I do hope you are not planning on making it your personal mission to disrupt every meal of the day with your constant need for attention." Hermione gasped as she whirled around to see Snape behind her. "Some of us like to eat in silence."
Hermione noticed that the moods of the Weasley twins were starting to shift again and she took it upon herself to keep them from getting in trouble with the Potions Professor. "Not at all, sir."
"Good. Now if only my House could eat with the peace of mind that their privacy won't be infringed upon by nosy Gryffindors with sticky fingers."
Hermione huffed at the accusation. "Sir, I haven't stolen anything from -"
Snape wasn't willing to hear anything she had to say, though. "I will see you in my classroom directly after your morning meeting with your therapist and do not even think of being late and wasting any more of my time than you already will be." Snape nearly pivoted on his heel as he made his way out of the Great Hall.
"What a bloody - Ah!" Fred exclaimed and Hermione turned towards him to see Poseidon had bit him – likely not enjoying the lack of attention.
In her anger, Hermione quickly removed the letter, ignoring Poseidon's squawking while he spread his wings to intimidate her. After removing it, she made a shooing motion to get the bird to leave. "Go on then. Off you go!"
She could have sworn the chittering sound the bird made was more closely related to laughter, but she paid it no mind as she stared down at the black envelope from Lucius Malfoy. It already had her chest weighing an additional fifty pounds. I'm a bloody idiot.
By the time Hermione had arrived to the last class of the day on Thursday, which was Defense Against the Dark Arts, she was beyond stressed. Walking through the halls, she felt like she had in primary school when she was being bullied and pariahed by the Darlings siblings.
The Ravenclaw students seemed to stay neutral, but she hardly ever interacted with them in the first place. The Slytherins insulted and jeered at her almost every chance they got in the hallways, but the Hufflepuffs seemed to be the most aggressive – or rather passive aggressive. If she spoke to anyone from the house directly, they ignored her as if she had not said a word. If they accidentally knocked into her or accepted an ingredient she passed to them, they didn't bother using their manners. The person who frustrated her the most though, was Hedgeflower.
Hermione was aware she had several classes with the Hufflepuff, but Hedgeflower was usually in the background of her mind, her presence imperceptible. Now that Hedgeflower had a reason to interact with Hermione, she made sure to do it as much as she could:
In History of Magic, Hedgeflower would repeatedly cast a cheering charm on Hermione, sending her into a fit of giggles at the most horrifying moments in the instructor's lecture. Professor Binns had gotten to the point where he not only snapped at Hermione for continuously interrupting the class, but actually bothered to take away twenty points from Gryffindor when she tried to explain that she wasn't disrupting the class on purpose. Ron convinced her to drop the subject though when she tried to defend herself.
In Herbology, Hedgeflower continued to cast the Herbivicus charm on the squash Hermione was working on. The older students were helping Hogwarts grow food for the welcoming feast next Saturday for the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students and in turn, they were practicing gardening charms. Hedgeflower's interference caused the squash Hermione was working on to grow half as big as the Pumpkins she and Harry had to navigate Buckbeak through in Hagrid's personal garden last year, which rendered her squash inedible due to the surplus of magic contaminating the would-be food. She, Harry, and Ron tried to explain to Professor Sprout that it wasn't Hermione's doing and it was Hedgeflower, but the Hufflepuff put on a stellar defensive act and had two 'witnesses' herself: Bulstrode and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who still seemed wary of Harry after witnessing Harry speaking parseltongue their second year. Professor Sprout did not deduct points like Professor Binns did, but she did give Hermione a slightly ambivalent look and had Hermione mix the fertilizer instead, away from the rest of the growing vegetables.
Hermione didn't think Hedgeflower could have gotten any worse, until they got to Potions. It was the last class they shared together and Hermione was thinking about how she was looking forward to it being done, when Hedgeflower raised her hand to volunteer to be Hermione's new partner as Snape was reassigning partners for their next project. Snape looked as if he was going to object, as he glanced over to where Draco, Blaise, and Pansy were seated, before he gave an indifferent "very well." For the rest of the lesson, Hermione had to deal with Hedgeflower flicking ink on to her essay they were working on in preparation of the next potion they would be making. Between vanishing the splatters so she would not be marked down by Snape and rewriting the accidentally vanished letters from the splatters, it slowed Hermione down severely.
"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" Hermione furiously whispered to her new potions partner. "Interfering with my school work because it is one of the things I care about the most is clever, really, but enough!"
Hedgeflower looked at Hermione up and down, taking a moment to size her up. "No."
Hermione was shaking as she tried to reason with herself. The last place she wanted to loose control was is in Snape's classroom. I've never had a problem with her before, there's no reason for me to be this upset. She's only wanting to defend her friends, I can't be too mad. I would take action if it was Ron or Harry, myself, although I can't say I would resort to bullying someone. "It was a mistake, Hedgeflower. I only intended for one person to get in trouble."
"Then maybe you should only target the one person you're after instead of causing one fourth of the student body to become a casualty, just so you can make a point." Hedgeflower flicked their quill at Hermione's parchment once more. "Just like I'm doing."
Snape, who Hermione was sure saw that Hedgeflower threw splatters on to her parchment, came by and deducted five points for "lack of quill decorum." Hermione didn't bother to explain this time as she remembered nearly being brought to tears last year when she attempted to explain they were not ready to study werewolves.
"We'll get her back, 'Mione." Ron tried to reassure her as they took their seats in the front of Moody's classroom.
She slammed her things on to the sturdy desk, so overwhelmed that she was to the point that she hardly cared if she was treating Hogwarts property with a bit of disrespect. "Ron, that's the problem! I don't want to get back at Hedgeflower, that's how I got in this mess in the first place." Hermione rubbed her temples as she fought off a headache. She wanted nothing more than to skiv off and sleep at this point, especially since she was aware that Moody was starting the Imperious part of the course. She had a feeling that the retired Auror liked the Dark Arts more than he cared to admit, but she wrote it off as him being passionate for his career and the idea of the general public not being entirely defenseless. "I just want to apologize and have everything go back to how it was." Her voice warbled and a ball formed in her throat. Ron and Harry was unsure what to say, but Hermione was grateful for their lack of consoling skills for once. If she was forced to talk, she knew she would end up having a break down.
Professor Moody limped into the class room and Hermione started to remove her copy of The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook from her bag, until he had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.
"But... You said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody had everyone stand as he cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"
"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused." He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door.
Hermione felt herself go pink before raising her eyebrows. "That's not what I meant." She said under her breath. Thankfully, Moody didn't seem to have a magically modified ear like he had an eye.
Hermione felt more uneasy about this practical lesson than she did the boggart one. Instead of watching Dean Thomas hop around the room like a frog, or watch Lavender Brown imitate a squirrel, she decided to watch the reactions of her fellow students. She noticed she wasn't the only one who was on edge about what was happening. More than half of the students were glancing at each other with nervous looks, or even taking a squiz at the door. Then there were some students who pressed themselves against the back wall of the class, near the door.
Students like Draco Malfoy.
He caught her eye when she allowed herself to look at him, and this time, she didn't look away even when her chest started to hurt with how much she missed him. Hermione was still cross with him about the world cup, and it made her even more upset that a part of her was willing to over look it, just so they could be friends again.
"Granger! You're next!" Moody barked and she jumped. She gripped her necklace as she stared at the floor as she walked into the middle of the classroom, almost grateful she'll be under the Imperius curse before a blush could creep on her face.
"Imperio!"
Oh. Ooh. This is quite nice. At once, Hermione felt all tension leave her body. It felt like a warm blanket of magic had enveloped her in a cocoon, much like a weighted blanket, but at the same time, it felt light – like a hug. It's not calming draught, but I can't say I don't like this. Hermione decided that it was almost like she was in a meditative state, much like she was when she played her cello, except much more intense and... disconnected.
'Sing for us.' Mad Eye Moody's voice should have been a surprise, but the cocoon made her feel like it was not just expected, but welcomed. 'We want to hear you sing.'
Hermione didn't have enough time to second guess her actions before she started to sing: "Think of me, think of me fondly / When we've said goodbye / Remember me, once in a while / Please promise me you'll try." In a far off place, she could feel something that was the equivalent of horror. That can't be me feeling that... Is it? It's much to nice here... "When you find that once again you long / To take your heart back and be free / If you ever find a moment / Spare a thought for me." Hermione distantly heard laughing and she slowly was able to focus her vision enough to remember that she was in class and placed under the Imperius curse. Oh god, I can't sing – I don't want to sing! What am I doing?! Hermione had never felt so helpless in her life as she hit all of the wrong notes in The Phantom of the Opera song. Of all the things to sing! Hermione tried to shut her mouth, and she thought it was working until her jaw burned as if the roots and nerves of her teeth had been exposed to cold air. Think, think! "We never said our love was evergreen / Or as unchanging as the sea / But if you can still remember / Stop and think of me." Veritaserum's creation was inspired by the Imperius curse. I just need to use Occlumency.
Of course, that was easier said than done. Hermione had only really gotten a hold of applying the bare basics of Occlumency, and even then, she had been slightly out of practice for several weeks at Dr. Augsen's suggestion. I need to keep him out. Imagine walls, unbreakable walls! But the visual images hardly helped. Hermione felt her resolve soften in her panic. I don't have the will power! I'm bloody useless! "Think of all the things / We've shared and seen / Don't think about the way, things might have been." Hermione thought she would give up then, but her brain kicked into over drive as it often did when she felt she had no way out. You don't want to sing any of the lyrics of the last thing you ever saw with mum and da, do you? Remember how it was to listen to father playing. Think of how good it feels when you play a perfect double stop - the vibration of multiple notes in the palm of your hand, calming you into that state where you can build up the protection you need, don't give up!
Hermione did not think of how the second, and much more lucid voice sounded suspiciously like her younger, dream self. Instead, she listened. She slowly felt herself building the walls in her mind again and while the pain in her jaw came back, springing tears to her eyes, she didn't stop. "Th -th- th-"
'I said sing! Don't stop!'
But Hermione could feel herself overcoming the Imperious curse. Professor Moody's hold on her became tangible and she was hit with an epiphany that the cocoon was really his magic. Not just that, but she could also feel her magic, growing and buzzing around her in a bubble. It was then she noticed that her magic seemed to vibrate in a pattern. It's just like music. Looking at Moody's she could see his moving at a different frequency than hers. Hermione was flooded with different memories then; Returning to Hogwarts this year and feeling the moment she passed the perimeter of the wards, the Quidditch World Cup when the buzzing magic of excited wizards threatened to make her hair frizz as a pure reaction, being high on absinthe and changing the habitat the Sphinx at Malfoy Manor lived in, feeling her fingers literally sift through wards.
Hitting her head on a book of Runes and Sigils.
"Now, that's more like it!" Hermione felt a firm hand clap her on her shoulder and she barely stopped herself from stumbling forward with the sudden recovery of control. "She fought it, and she damn near beat it! Very good, Granger, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!" Hermione's head snapped up, not enjoying how Moody talked as if they were to be attacked any second. She thought the memory of her being put under the Cruciatus curse was fresh enough, and she did not want to develop the same paranoia she thought Dr. Augsen would say Moody suffered from. The pain in her mouth seemed to ache, and she placed a hand over her jaw as if the extra source of warmth would have helped. "We'll try that again, Granger, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch her eyes everyone, that's where you see it." Moody lifted his wand to her a second time and she instinctively stepped back.
"No." She wasn't scared – in fact, she was confident she could beat it this time around, but she preferred not to be put into that headspace again. It was too close to what she had experienced when she she was last on the top of the astronomy tower. Now that Hermione's mind was clear, she could see that it was too much like dissociation. It was like being put in the passenger seat of a car and letting Moody not just drive, but control the radio station, the A/C and the height that each window of the car was at. "I rather not."
Moody didn't like that. His magic eye swiveled to look at the rest of the students, no doubt gauging their reactions, wondering how far he could push them if he forced her under the curse again. Apparently he decided that it wouldn't be very far, "All right. Off you go." Hermione walked back to where she stood behind Harry and Ron, her arms crossed over her chest, deep in thought. "Potter," Moody growled. "You're next!"
When Hermione glanced back at Draco, he was staring towards the front of the class, but slowly his eyes drifted back to hers. He gave her a once over, something he had not done in ages and the thought that he was siding with Hedgeflower taunted her, but then he dipped his head as if to ask are you okay?
Hermione couldn't help the sad smile from appearing on her face as she nodded at him. He cares, and no matter how hard I try to deny it, I care, too.
The muscles in Draco's jaw seemed to flutter as he guarded his emotions under a steely mask. Hermione rubbed a hand over her head, smoothing down the fly always. Draco might have still wanted to salvage a friendship, but there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was entirely happy with her.
After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione found herself practically drifting next to Harry and Ron. She did her best to focus for the rest of Moody's class, but after Harry had demonstrated that he too could fight the imperious curse, she didn't bother to pay too much attention to the rest of her peers being forced to perform as if they were no more than a string-less puppet making a fool of themselves. She was just happy that Moody decided against forcing Ron and Draco under the curse.
A sharp shove into her shoulder and Hermione looked up to lock eyes with Blaise, who had just bumped into her. "Sorry, Granger." It had been a mistake, he didn't mean it, but the innocent act broke her out of the cloudy thoughts being repeated in her head.
"Wait, Blaise!" Hermione didn't think to tell Harry or Ron that she would meet them in the Common Room later as she started to follow Blaise in the opposite direction of where she was initially going. "Blaise!" He was walking fast, not bothering to look back as she called out to him. Students were staring and it wasn't until several twists and turns later that she was able to get around the gaggle of students who had been unintentionally blocking her way. She quickly ran around them and grabbed his sleeve, gasping for air as she did so.
Blaise looked up and down the hall before he stopped, making it obvious that he did not want to be seen with her. "Can I help you, Granger?" His tone was surprisingly... neutral. Not friendly, but not impolite either. He had never greeted her so cordially before.
"You – you called me 'Granger.'" Hermione's shoulders slumped half an inch as she pieced together that he was probably unhappy with what she had done, too. "I – Well, I just wanted to say 'hi.'"
Blaise lifted his chin, understanding crossing his features. "You wanted to know if there was someone in Slytherin who didn't hate you." He deciphered.
Hermione winced at how uncharacteristically direct that was. "Going in for the killing strike today, then?" When he only raised an eyebrow, her smile drooped. "Right, snake jokes aren't funny." Hermione ran a hand over her hair again. "You're right though, I was hoping that maybe because I told you about what had happened -"
Blaise let out a mirthless, deep laugh that made Hermione feel like she was withering on the spot. "You outed several of my housemates. That could have easily been me." Blaise's voice had deepened and he had to speak a little more slowly to make sure his accent didn't leave him unintelligible.
Feeling her face heat up, Hermione threw her arms up in an attempt to defend herself, when she knew she didn't have a right. She had never been so wrong before, and was having a hard time handling it. "It wasn't though!"
This was also something that Blaise had no issue pointing out. "Have you ever been called a spoiled brat? Because you're just as bad as Draco, but not in the obvious ways." Blaise rubbed a hand over his face as he looked around the corridor to ensure no one was listening to him. He was about to walk away, when he decided to say one more thing while Hermione was still in shock. "Let me explain something to you. Muggles... Ah, in Italy we call it a tostapane, I can't remember the word in English, but you cook the bread in it."
"A toaster?"
Blaise snapped his fingers before he continued speaking, enunciating what he was saying with every bob and wave of his hand. "It is electric, and electricity doesn't do well in water, correct?" He didn't wait for Hermione to confirm it. "Let's just say someone is sitting in a bathtub, minding their business, washing up, but you come in to hold a toaster over them." He held his hands in front of him as if he was holding said toaster. "And you choose not to drop it, are you going to turn around and say you saved their life? Especially after you just dropped a toaster in everyone else's bathtub?"
Hermione covered her face with her hands. If Blaise, who was known as the impartial Slytherin, was telling her she was in the wrong, she was monumentally in the wrong. How could I have been so stupid? "What if I said so-"
But she was alone.
"That's fair." She said to no one in particular. Hermione hurried off, partially concerned that she would run in to Hedgeflower in the hallways and partially because she needed to sort out how she was going to rewrite her wrongs, and finally opening Lucius' letter was going to be the first place she started.
Hermione cancelled her appointment with her therapist Friday night. She told herself it was because she wanted to sleep in, when she knew sleep would not return to her once the early morning light peaked through her red and gold bed curtains. The real reason she cancelled, was because she could not stand the thought of recounting what she had done to another soul. She supposed she could have asked Dr. Augsen for advice, but the very idea of it made her tired in other ways – more than she already was. Lucius' letter gave her a lot to think about.
She stayed in bed Saturday morning, tracing the gold patterns in the dark red curtains with her eyes. Everyone had gone to breakfast, except from her, as she didn't have an appetite. When she grew bored of memorizing the trails the gold thread weaved, she removed her parent's letters from her bed side drawer and read them over. 'You truly are our daughter and will do the greatest of things...' But would they say that if I could have actually told them what I had done? 'You have always made us proud and will continue to do so.' They wouldn't be proud now, they didn't raise me to be this way. Hermione set the letter and card down by her side. Hermione didn't try to fight the silent tears as they glided over her temples and into her hair. I'm such bloody a failure. I should just die. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as the words started to repeat themselves in her head. She imagined that if she stood still long enough, maybe she would cease to exist, and disappear into the void.
"You're not seriously contemplating that again."
Hermione sighed and let her brutish side come out. "Maybe I think about it from time to time because I'm tired of dealing with you." Hermione looked over at Young Hermione, trying to look menacing, hoping that the vision of herself she was seeing would depart sooner rather than later.
"You're such a child."
"You're one to talk." She scoffed and Hermione flashed her a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Are you hear to scold me again?"
The young girl huffed and shook her head. "Does it ever work? You're more pig headed than Ron on his worst days – and don't try to defend him." To prove a point to the younger girl, Hermione complied by keeping her mouth closed. The younger version of herself narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "I'm here to tell you what you need to hear: Get a grip. You're not thinking straight, and it's not... It's not good." Her voice grew somber, and Hermione struggled to not sympathize with the girl. If she sympathized she would grow attached and this girl - Well, she made Hermione see things she didn't want to see. "You're self sabotaging again." The girl blinked and grew alarmed, looking at Hermione with wide eyes. "You need to wake up."
"You're not serious about -"
"No, you need to wake up. You're going to be late!"
"Late?"
Hermione sat straight up in her bed, her heart pounding and sweat soaking her hair to the point that the hairs at the nape of her neck clung to her skin. Hermione checked the time using her wand and barely stopped herself from shrieking. She had ten minutes to get to Snape's classroom. Not only did it leave her no time to eat or shower, but she had ten minutes to scale over seven floors of a castle. It had been literal years since Hermione had last prayed, but she did so as she got dressed, hoping that the grand staircase would not be an obstacle today and direct her into a passageway that would get her lost in the castle.
Five hundred seventy-one, five hundred seventy-two... Hermione felt the burning in her lungs and in her calves, but she didn't stop running as fast as she could through the dungeons. Five hundred seventy-eight, Five hundred seventy-nine. She only slowed down when she could see Snape's door. She tried to control her breathing in time with the sound of her trainers slapping against the dungeon's floor, but it wasn't easy. Five hundred eighty-eight... Her hand landed on the brass ring of Snape's classroom. Just under ten minutes. All without a Glisseo charm, too. Filch would have had a fit if he caught her running, let alone enchanting an ancient staircase he couldn't charm back due to his squib status. He would have seen it as a personal insult.
"Professor Snape -" Hermione stopped in the doorway when she saw Snape talking to Draco. Her eyes bounced back and forth between the two before she tried to back out, assuming they were talking about something in private. "I'll just wait out here -"
"No need, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy will also be serving detention today." Of course. She thought bitterly before she scurried inside to stand before the Potion Master's desk. "Your tardiness is inexcusable, don't let it happen again."
"Tardy?" Hermione didn't have time to continue between catching her breath and Snape continuing to talk.
"You did not see your healer today and I explicitly stated you were to be here right after your engagement with her." Snape's black eyes zeroed in on Hermione's. "Which meant you were set to arrive here in place of your appointment."
"That -" Hermione started, but pressed her lips together after a moment. There is no point in arguing with him, he'll always find a way to put himself in the right. Hermione calmed herself down by remembering how she, Ron, and Harry knocked him out last year in the Shrieking Shack. It didn't exactly bring her joy, but it did make her feel better about taking a scolding from him. "I am sorry about the misinterpretation, sir."
Snape studied her for a moment and she was aware that he was only preparing himself for the next verbal assault. "Do you ever wonder why apologies are made? They're for the benefit of the person saying it, to wipe away their guilty conscious without letting them take any real action." Hermione blinked and she had the suspicion he wasn't just talking about her time management skills. "So please get it through your skull, Miss Granger, that I do not need your feeble apology, but for you to be on time for every Saturday for the next month."
Hermione kept her eyes forward as she responded, "yes, sir."
"As I was telling, Mr. Malfoy, I do not trust you in my stores," Hermione tried not to grind her teeth at the jab, "so I would prefer you stick to cleaning and organizing the rest of the room. I want everything to be so neat and tidy when I come back that it would pass what Muggles call a white glove test." Snape paused and held out a hand as if he wanted something from her. His pale fingers looked naturally moist with sweat, but they were as still as a surgeon's hand – just like her parents were. Something she thought benefited him in earning the title of Potion's Master. "And I want it done without magic."
Hermione clenched her hands into fists. "You have my word that I won't use magic."
"Your word means nothing to me -"
No. Hermione took out her wand, but instead of handing it to him like she expected, she made an oath. "I swear on my magic that I will not use it for any of the tasks you assign me in detention for the next month." There was a sensation on her magical core that she imagined was another gold string like the one she saw at the gala being attached to her core. It was an unnerving feeling, but she promised herself she would never be without her wand again. Respected professor or not, she was not handing it to him.
Hermione crossed her arms, trying to be nonchalant about what she had just done, but the fact that Draco had gasped and Snape was studying her with pursed lips didn't help her.
"Do not ever do that again until you learn the importance of loopholes, Miss Granger. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps next week I would have asked you to hunt for Tubeworms in the Black Lake? Something that would require your wand?" Hermione bit the inside of her lip and looked down at the floor. I won't correct him. I will not correct him. It will not do me any good if I say that Tubeworms aren't found in freshwater. "Or perhaps I would have needed you to brew Healing Potion to help restock Madam Pomfrey's supplies – something that would be nothing more than poorly boiled soup without being able to use you magic." A lie, he just said he didn't want me near his ingredients. "Perhaps, Miss Granger, it would have served you well to continue studying Divination as your Seer skills are sorely lacking."
Hermione had her hands balling up the edges of her sweater at the sore spot of her academic mistake being prodded at, but she still said nothing, not giving into the goading. Always be the bigger person, that's what father said. She didn't dare look over to Draco though and started to list off science facts so she didn't have to focus on Snape or her anger. Potassium's melting point is 1,032 degrees Celsius. The Eiffel tower can be taller by up to centimeters in the Summer do to the steel expanding from the heat...
After a few breaths, Snape shook his head to get the greasy, stringy hair out of his eyes and walked around his desk to let himself out. "I'll be back in a few hours and I expect this room to be spotless and my ingredients in order." Hermione and Draco turned to watch him leave, but Snape had expected this and was standing with the door open behind him, waiting to catch their gaze. "Understood?"
"Yes, sir." The teens said in unison.
Hermione and Draco let the door close behind him without a single sound being made between them. She looked around the Potions room, mentally cataloging what needed to be addressed and in the best order. Her heart raced once she realized she hadn't been informed where Snape kept his cleaning supplies. I'm going to need to ask him for help. Him. Draco. The last time they were in a room by themselves together, they had kissed. She wondered if the memory was on his mind like it was hers. "Draco?"
Draco looked over his shoulder at her, but didn't turn around. "Granger?"
That stung. Hermione didn't like him saying her surname as if they were strangers. But then... That's what I've been doing to him for over a month now, isn't it? It was the first time she had used his given name since then, so it shouldn't have been a surprise it blew up in face – just like everything else had since Wednesday. "I was just wondering if you knew where I could find the cleaning supplies."
Draco didn't say anything, he simply got up and disappeared into the tiny storage room Snape kept the majority of his potions ingredients. Students were hardly allowed in there as Snape moved the needed supplies for every class from the private stores to an empty table at the front of the class, but obviously that did not apply to Draco if he was doing inventory.
Hermione sighed through her nose and sniffled. She turned around once more and started to check some of the cabinets at the back of the room, hoping Snape was as resourceful as she assumed he was so she did not need to leave the classroom in search of the nearest storage closet. She was starting to slam the cabinet doors and drawers shut in frustration once she got halfway through the class, as the only thing she found in the drawers were cobwebs. I need to stop. The only person I should be mad at is myself. I did this -
"And they say I'm the dramatic one." Hermione looked over her shoulder to see Draco standing there with a bucket, mop, and rags in hand. "Here."
Hermione stared at him dumbly. He got the supplies for me... "Th-" Hermione bit her lip as she stopped herself from thanking him. "That was kind of you." She took the cleaning supplies from him and he turned on his heel, making his way back to Snape's private stores.
"Wait, Draco." He stopped and she took a step towards him. He didn't try to face her and she didn't attempt to step in front of him. "I -" What am I going to say? I can't apologize to him, it would pain him. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and started to straighten up. Not like I need apologize to him anyway. He knew that those blood purists were going to practically pillage the Word Cup and -
And you're only wanting to self sabotaging again. You've made your bed with his decision. Just as easily as she swelled with pride, she felt herself deflate.
"I – There was nothing that could have been done if you knew about the World Cup." Hermione swallowed hard when Draco turned around to face her looking completely taken aback. "Who would believe one fourteen year old after the absurd amount of security the Ministry put into a Quidditch match? Especially after they just voted off the last Minister for speaking against the sport in the first place."
Draco was hardly breathing, not believing what Hermione had just said. Even though he had reached out to her a few times, trying to at least keep her as an acquaintance, he wanted her to keep her distance. He told himself the kiss in the music room should have never happened, it wasn't meant to be - no matter how much he wanted it to happen again. When Blaise finally cracked after Hermione chased him down the halls on Thursday, he finally commented on Hermione and Draco's current standing: She needed to be knocked down a peg, but you need to get your head out of your ass. You two are much more tolerable and level-headed when you're on speaking terms.
"Maybe not, but I still let it happen. I didn't even tell you about it and... It could have made you worse. It almost did." Draco tried to escape into the room where the ingredients were being held, as he was intent at leaving it at that, but Hermione never let things go so easily. She stood in front of him, throwing herself in front of the doorway Draco was about to walk through. Draco felt himself starting to snap – something he never had done before. "What? Are you upset that I'm not going to coddle you when everyone outside of your house is against you? Not enjoying your fall from grace?"
Hermione's eyes went wide. "That's not -"
Draco stepped closer to her so he was practically on top of her. His emotions were coursing threw him at break neck speed. The stress, anger, and resentment that Draco had been feeling since the middle of Summer pushed passed the dam he carefully built up. Not once had he let his emotions get this far, not even with the 'tantrums' Blaise claimed he threw.
But Hermione had a way of getting under his skin. "You think you're incapable of doing any wrong, don't you, Granger? Just bloody perfect in everything you do." Hermione leaned back, completely baffled at his accusations. "I offered to help you with Theo and instead you just take things into your own hands, not at all considering the consequences -"
"Of course I considered the consequences! I can't wake up in the morning without thinking about my entire day and practically time blocking every moment. I - I made a mistake and I know that! I just -"
"You just what? Do you think because most students still have their parents, that their problems aren't as big as yours? Congratulations, Princess, but our housemates have normal problems that feel as big as ours to them. You don't get to decide who's private life gets exposed!" Draco slammed his fist on the door behind her. Hermione ducked her head at the sound and tried to step back, but only succeeded with pressing herself against the door. Draco paled at the reaction he caused her to have, only cementing the feelings that he was going to become Lucius in the future. He felt it was a fate that he could not avoid, much like everything else in his life.
Draco crumbled then, quite literally. He leaned into the hand that was pressed against the door before his entire body slid down it, his back flattened against the wood. Why am I like this? Everything is set for me as the Malfoy heir. I'll take over the business, find a Pure-blood wife and have our portraits hung up in the manor. I'll be revered by anyone who is beneath me and I will continue to be hated by others for being everything they're not. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and pressed his forehead against his forearms that was propped up on his knees. It should be what I want, it's what I am destined to be – no matter how hard I try to do small things that are good, it turns to utter shite.
The sound of her trying to reel in her tears was one of the worst sounds he had ever heard. Despite his words, he did want to comfort her – but only after he shook some sense into her first. "Draco -"
"Sod off."
"No." Hermione got on her knees next to him and he sighed. Why won't she just stay away? "You're not what you think you are. You try to imagine yourself as a villain and you're not." Hermione took a risk and gently pulled his chin towards her so she could look into his eyes. "Why do you do that?" Sure that he wouldn't pull away, Hermione removed her hand from his chin, and into his hair.
Yes. He missed this. He missed her. At her invitation, Draco realized that no one had outwardly invited him to explain his feelings before. He didn't think anyone would really care to listen except from Blaise, but Draco doubted he would ever come to that as he remembered Blaise in his room before the gala. He would want Blaise to continue seeing him as the strong, stoic type in the even the Italian needed someone to hold him up again. Hermione's forwardness was one of the things he adored about her personality, she never beat around the bush with how she felt and what she wanted. She didn't leave anyone to guess how she felt about something and it was a breath of fresh air to have at least one person around that didn't leave him to solve riddles and equations to know what their motives were. "Look at my parents. They're lovely to you, I'm sure, but... You wouldn't understand."
"Help me understand."
Draco could not shake the feeling that he was doing something very wrong and that his father would rush into the room, cane in hand, ready to strike him down for telling the one secret he was supposed to take to his grave. The same secret he knew Theo was hiding about the relationship with his own father. "I... Father 'disciplined' me because I was never enough. I'm a disappointment and I can't do anything right. I am supposed to be the man that father wants me to be and that..." Draco was shaking, feeling like he was in danger. He could feel adrenaline course through him as he shook, making him hyper aware of everything around him. I should stop talking, this isn't something I should share. But Draco found that he couldn't. The words just spilled out of him – and it wasn't like it was something Hermione couldn't piece together herself. "Look at me: I am a descendant from 'The Noble and Most Ancient' House of Black, and the Malfoy family motto is Sanctimonia Vincet Semper - Purity Will Always Conquer. I was only made to carry on the self-righteous ways of my ancestors. Both houses have a dark past that lives in both of my parents to this day, and in turn will live in me – does live in me. I'm dangerous." His eyes started to fill with tears as he looked at her. "You can say no one was going to believe me about the World Cup, but would you have done the same if you had known what would happen?"
Hermione's lips twisted as she diverted her gaze from him. They sat like that for what must have been minutes, letting her quietly mull over the question. "Trying to answer that question is like asking me if I would have still laced the Slytherins drink with Veritaserum if I knew the outcome." Draco's eyes went wide and he felt irritation start to overpower the pity he felt for himself. "The answer is, yes, but I would have gone about it a different way. I would have only drugged the two I really was after. I just thought if there was an entire group of Slytherins if not the entire house, Flint wouldn't have known you had told me." She looked back at him, a hardness in her eyes. "Embarrassment for your house and revenge on Nott was my intent – and I am aware that I am a hypocrite for allowing myself to jump through mental hoops to validate embarrassing innocent bystanders when I try to promote house unity." Hermione rolled her eyes at letting herself give in to weak thinking. "And it's because I feel like it was what had to be done. I was aware the price to pay would be high, but..." She sighed. "I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. I suppose I shouldn't meddle with potions above my year, lest I get turned into a cat again." The last part was mumbled, but before Draco would ask what she had meant, she continued.
"You cried when you were unable to save the peacocks from the fires and hexes on the camp grounds. That's something a bad person wouldn't care about." Hermione didn't dare try to unpack anything he hinted at with his parents. She focused on him for now and Draco had to swallow the lump in his throat. "You want to free every creature your dad has locked in the maze – that's also not something someone who is cruel would care about. You take care of me, even when I have been vile to you." Hermione held out her right hand, palm up, as if they could still see the mark that her cello left her when the string broke. She raised an eyebrow before she smirked. "If you're going to worry about fulfilling a namesake, then go ahead. Your name is Malfoy, of course."
Draco's first reaction was to be offended, but she had a glint in her eye that made him want to think before he said anything he may not have been able to take back. When he remembered the French origins of his surname, he said it uncertainly, testing if that was really where she was going to take the conversation. "Mal foi."
"Meaning bad faith or unfaithful." She had that haughty look that made him want to kiss her and throw her into the Black Lake. "So be unfaithful to the meaning your ancestors wanted associated with your name. Be Draco first, and Malfoy second." Hermione gave him a reassuring smile when he said nothing. "It's... what my dad had to learn. He thought chasing the Granger name would give him the happiness he wanted when he discovered he was adopted. In truth, it was just words on a paper. He needed to be William before anything else to truly be happy."
Draco pressed his lips together and mulled over her words. He felt... lighter. Things were making sense to him now, but he needed time. Without another warning, he stood up, dusting his bum off before offering a hand to help her to her feet. "We need to get the room cleaned and his ingredients accounted for unless we want another month of detention."
The hope Hermione had felt within her instantly died when she realized Draco was cutting their conversation short. No, I still want to talk! What about the kiss? Instead, she asked a question that elicited a dark, angry look in his eye. "A month for you too?"
"Every Saturday."
Hermione tried not to make her sigh of relief obvious. Three more Saturdays. We can talk about it next week, that's fine. I can be patient. "What did you do?"
The dark look in Draco's eyes only intensified, but Hermione did not head it as a warning like someone else might have. "Nott asked me if I wanted to help him avenge our house after what you had done. I made him an example in the common room, and Snape happened to walk in."
Hermione felt slightly touched at the perceived sentiment. "For me?"
"Not really." Draco gave her a look that clued her in they were not completely okay just yet. "I said that it was his fault for messing with the Malfoy name." He gave her a once over before he disappeared into the private stores, leaving her to wonder what exactly Draco had done – especially if Nott hadn't attended a single class yesterday.
A/N: Shout out to Bumping_Bees on Ao3 for being a bit of an Alpha on this chapter. You rock!
I adore you all so much. I do want to let you know that TGwwO will be going back to irregular updates TEMPORARILY. Many of y'all saw that I had contracted COVID-19. This meant everyone in my house needed to quarantine and my roommate's job is not paying them. I am picking up extra hours at my second job to not just make sure everything gets paid, but to catch up on the less important bills that will not get paid on time. I hate doing this and I want to let you know that your patience is always appreciated. Thank you.
Craztef: Thank you!
Renowned Warrior: It feels so good to be back.
MotelElm: Awww, thank you.
BeautyRush26: Thank you so much! I was a bit worried with it but I happy I pulled it off.
Alice Helena: Hehehehe, this chapter was a bit fun to write, I'm not going to lie. Also, Lucius' letter will be addressed in the next chapter so the there's still more drama she'll need to deal with.
AsherTheGayBoi: I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU.
