Part 1 summary: Theo insight provided. Hermione makes progress with apologizing to Bulstrode. Pansy is head over heels for Bulstrode, but he keeps pushing her away. Hermione is jealous of Pansy and Draco. Harry finally hears back from Sirius. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrive. Hermione fails to take down the Age Line but Krum seems to be impressed. Harry is named the fourth champion.
TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Kidnapping, Gore.
Hermione stopped breathing.
'No, no, no, nononononononono.'
Magic pressed her from all sides. She could nearly taste the confusion that was mixed into the air.
"I didn't put my name in," Harry said. Hermione opened her eyes and he gulped. Harry would never admit it, but he was scared. She could see it flicker in the green of his eyes.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called out once more.
The confusion shifted into anger. Then resentment.
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, hoping that when she looked up at her Head of House, her silent plea would be heard that Harry not go. That Harry would not be a part of a tournament that she considered to be the wizard version of the ancient Olympic Games.
When Hermione looked up at the staff's table, she saw Bagman and McGonagall whispering to each other furiously. Dumbledore was refusing to take his eyes off of Harry. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
Harry stood this time, disregarding Hermione's hand.
'No. Not him.'
Hermione grabbed his robe sleeve just before he was out of arms reach. She didn't look up at him, but instead she looked up at their Headmaster, who stood there as still as stone, an arm spread out to Harry.
'Please. Stop this. Not Harry.'
"Miss Granger," the shaky voice belonged to McGonagall, who had moved to Dumbledore's side. "If you could join him."
She didn't hesitate. In fact, she walked ahead of Harry after she let go of his arm. She kept her eyes looking foreword as she walked towards the front of the Great Hall. She was already purse breathing – her body had become accustomed to panic.
"Well... through the door," Dumbledore said as he nodded towards the room that she had been reprimanded in after the Veritaserum fiasco.
She and Harry shared a look once inside of the side chamber, but neither said anything as they were now in front of Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour, who were trading pleasantries by the fire.
'They're all of age.' Hermione thought as she looked each one of the champions over. 'All of them are taller than Ron. They can't let him participate – they can't!'
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?" Delacour said. Hermione was so deep in calculating how this was all wrong, that she hardly realized that the three Champions had stopped chatting. 'Now is not the time to be distracted, Hermione,' she mentally chided. "Non, madam -" Hermione started, already trying to take charge of the situation.
She needed to feel in charge. She needed to keep Harry safe.
"Extraordinary!" Ludo Bagman boomed from behind her, causing her to jump.
"Extraordinary?" Hermione repeated as she stepped to her left, her arms crossed over her chest. Hermione paid no mind to the feeling of her hair frizzing up with annoyance around her ears.
Bagman looked down at her as if he had just noticed her for the first time. "Ah, the Malfoy girl, I remember you." He nodded at her before looping an arm around Harry. "This is absolutely extraordinary! Gentleman - lady," He amended as he turned his attention back to the first three Champions. Hermione recognized a dismissal when she saw one, but that didn't mean that she was going to head it. "May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the fourth Triwizard champion?" There was silence behind Hermione. Not a single person in the room matched the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports enthusiasm.
"Mr. Bagman, If you think Dumbledore is going to let Harry Potter -" She hoped the name would mean something to him, but Bagman was just as delusional as he came seemed.
"Dumbledore has no say, my dear. Harry's name being put into the Goblet sealed a magical binding contract. He has to compete." Bagman's smile never dimmed, but she could see a coldness creeping into his eyes the longer he kept his attention on Hermione.
'Good,' she thought. 'He shouldn't be enjoying this.' "Dumbledore said that the Ministry took care in making sure that no one under the age of seventeen could enter. So why is it -"
In the immediate distance, she could here several pairs of footsteps coming towards them, the pattern disrupted every once in a while by a clanking noise. 'Oh thank goodness, Dumbledore is bound to come in here and sort everything out. As the footsteps got closer, she could hear several voices bickering, trying to dominate the conversation at hand without yelling over the others. When the door flew open, Hermione saw Dumbledore, Barty Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Moody. Dumbledore ceased all conversation by raising a single hand.
"Please, let me ask the questions," Dumbledore sounded as if he was apologizing for a pet kneazle walking over his guests lap, or a child throwing a tantrum. Hermione was amazed he could be so calm when a fourteen year old boy was expected to risk his life for other's entertainment. "Miss Granger," She rubbed her fingers over her palms. She wanted her wand, but even she knew that if she was being addressed before Harry, it would not be the best move. Sensing how unnerved she felt, he nodded at her. A friendly gesture to try and ease her anxiety. "Did you find a way to put Harry's name in the Goblet of -"
"No!" Everyone in the room was shocked at the sudden outburst and she didn't miss how Harry took a step back. He hated being in the spotlight and seeing everyone – including her – fuss over him. This time though, she could hardly care about reining her feelings in for his comfort – not until they said he wouldn't have to compete. "Sir, you saw me try and take down your Age Line. I couldn't do it!"
"Evidently zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur appeared by Hermione's side, and Hermione heard shuffling as Diggory and Krum stepped forward with her. "He cannot compete - He is too young. And zis one is well read, but I doubt even she is capable." Hermione turned and gave Fleur an appraising once over. 'She didn't mean to be rude, let it go.' It was easier said than done. Hermione found herself glaring at the witch until she saw Viktor Krum was watching her.
She didn't automatically look away from him though. Instead, She held his gaze, straightened her posture, and then turned her attention back to Dumbledore. She refused to look incapable in front of any of them.
"Well... it is amazing," Bagman started again. "The age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. His name came out of the Goblet, and it is in the rules that he has to compete -"
Madam Maxime pulled herself up to her full height. Hermione had not noticed it before, but she realized that the woman typically held herself in a manner as if she was wanting to seem more... slight. Delicate even – something that was nearly impossible to see as her head brushed the bottom of the room's chandelier. "C'est impossible. Dumbly-dorr-"
"Two Hogwarts champions?" Karkoroff his upper lip curled into a snarl, she imagined that they were resuming the argument they were having on their way into the chamber. "I don't remember any-one telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough? I would have brought along a wider selection of candidates from my school, if I would have known."
Hermione's gaze landed on Karkaroff, assessing his attire from head to toe. 'He brought an entire group of students to compete, did he rig it so Viktor would be picked?'
Madam Maxime snapped her fingers and Fleur joined her side. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions if we can not 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."
"There has to be a way you can get him out of the contract." Hermione thought to the night at the Gala. 'If there is a way that Narcissa was able to rid of a bond like that, then Dumbledore can get rid of one set by a cup.'
"Think you know everything, do you?" Crouch wagged a finger before him as he approached her. She remembered how quick he was to point fingers when she and her friends were confronted about being found under the Dark Mark at the World Cup. "I think this young girl is lying. I hear she nearly took down your age line, Dumbledore. Perhaps an investigation -"
Hermione barely processed the phoosh of flames as she glared into Crouch's beady black eyes, but she did notice that everyone had stopped talking as they looked at her with wide eyes. It had been a while since she accidentally conjured fire.
McGonagall was the only one who dared to address the newest elephant in the room. "Miss Granger, if you can not control yourself, I will have to ask you to return to your sleeping quarters." Hermione nodded as she turned her focus inward. 'I'm okay. Harry is safe. I am in control.' She hardly needed to repeat the mantra a third time before the orange flames flickered back to a cool blue. She then rubbed her hands together to snuff the fire from her hands, thankful that her side show didn't last longer than it needed to.
"She shows an extraordinary amount of power and control -" Crouch started again, turning back to Dumbledore.
Professor Moody narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry beat him to it. "Hermione would have never put my name in the Goblet!" All eyes fell on him. Harry was breathing heavily in his intense anger at his friend being targeted. "And neither did I. She made Ron and I promise not to put our names in."
"Not that a promise was necessary." McGonagall added with a frown in Harry's direction. He nodded his agreement and looked as if he would say more in Hermione's defense, but he didn't get the chance.
"Why bother asking her if she tampered with the Age Line if she is not suspect?" Kakaroff questioned. "I have to agree with Mr. Crouch on this one."
"Enough, Igor." Hermione was stunned at how terse Dumbledore was to the Bulgarian Headmaster. Dumbledore waved Bagman back before he placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and slouched forward so his face was close to Harry's. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"
"No." Harry replied without missing a beat.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Continued Dumbledore.
"No!" Harry shook his head with vigor.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" Cried Madame Maxime. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek as she glared at the woman who was nearly three times her height. "Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line."
"Perhaps," Crouch said, his eyes fixed on Hermione. "An interrogation under Veritaserum?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" McGonagall snapped at Crouch. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, as we know Dumbledore did not make a mistake," She angrily looked up at Madam Maxime when she said this. Maxime made a 'hmpf' noise before wrapping a protective arm around Fleur. "And as Professor Dumbledore believes that Harry did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" Another angry look was shot at Crouch.
"Mr. Bagman... Mr - Mr. Crouch," Karkaroff started apprehensively, almost as if he was afraid to address the older, surly Ministry official.
It was the first time an adult was given the floor since they all had arrived in the side chamber, and Hermione could tell he was thinking the conversation over. "While I think it is best we determine how Mr. Potter's name ended up in the Goblet..." Hermione noticed that Mr. Crouch looked like he felt as old as he was and she didn't think he looked well at all. "We must follow the rules, and the rules clearly state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament." He said it in a curt voice. Almost as if he had been defeated.
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," Bagman declared as if the matter was now closed. He gave a million dollar smile as he put his arm around an uncomfortable looking Harry once more. Hermione thought about reaching out to pull Harry to her side herself, but she knew the last thing Harry would have wanted at this moment was to be manhandled more than he already was, so she suffered in silence.
"After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I didn't expect something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!" Karkaroff pointed a finger towards the castle's floor.
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," Moody growled. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Crouch said. Convenient, eh?"
"Convenient?" Karkaroff repeated as his hands balled into fists, processing that Moody was implying that he had something to do with the Goblet of Fire.
"It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet -"
"What evidence is zere of zat?" questioned Madame Maxime, her head cocked to the side in uncertainty.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament... I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly.
Hermione found herself agreeing with Karkaroff before reason caught up with her. 'He's a renowned auror – one of the best the Ministry has ever had and Dumbledore's friend. It is his job to think like Dark Wizards do...' However, she felt about Moody was too close to how she felt about Snape after seeing how the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher treated Draco. 'For him to come up with such a specific idea in less than fifteen minutes was... suspicious.'
"How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore said in a grave tone as he spoke to everyone in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament."
"Ah, but -" Madame Maxime started once more but Dumbledore cut her off.
"I would be more than happy to continue this conversation in my office, but perhaps it would be best to send the students off to bed.
"Yes!" Bagman said. He was still the only one who looked excited that The Chosen One would be competing in the Triwizard Tournament. "But after the champions are told what the first task shall entail."
Dumbledore nodded and made eye contact with Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff before speaking. "Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall will walk you to the common room."
Hermione took a deep breath to object, but Harry caught her eye and shook his head. She looked at him, trying to convey he didn't have to do this alone before she followed McGonagall. If he would have insisted she stay, they would have had to confound her themselves before she was torn from his side.
She walked with McGonagall in silence. Several times Hermione would pause from twisting her ring, steeling herself to seek reassurance that her Head of House truly believed her. Every time she looked up at McGonagall's profile though, her throat would form a lump due to the fear she felt and Hermione would resume staring at her feet as she navigated the castle stairs.
When they approached The Fat Lady, Hermione saw there was another woman in the portrait, whispering to The Fat Lady behind a plum fan that matched her robes. When The Fat Lady noticed them approaching, the whispering ceased and the new woman looked over her fan at them. "Violet, I'm not sure if you noticed, but you are in the wrong part of the castle. Please return to the side chamber immediately." Violet, who had no doubt alerted The Fat Lady and possibly the rest of the Hogwarts portraits what had happened, sauntered off with her nose in the air, as if McGonagall was the one in the wrong. "Balderdash."
There was a disdainful sniff from The Fat Lady before the door was swung open, followed by a blast of noise. Several heads popped into the view, obscuring the golden light shining within the common room. Hermione supposed her house mates were expecting to see Harry, but instead came face to face with an already annoyed McGonagall.
"Go to bed, all of you! I won't have you keeping the entire castle up – this is no time to be celebrating."
There were several disheartened mumbles from within, and someone turned out the light.
McGonagall faced Hermione, giving her a nod before making her way to her own quarters. "Good night, Miss Granger."
When Hermione attempted to climb through the portrait hole though, several hands reached out for her and pulled her in the rest of the way. Once the soft click of the portrait sounded behind her, the lights snapped back on.
"Brightest Witch of our Age everyone!" Fred and George each lifted one of her arms as the rest of her house cheered applauded her.
Well, almost everyone in her house. Both Ron and Ginny were standing against the right wall of the common room wearing identical sour expressions. They made sure she saw them before they both made their way up the stairs of the boys dorm.
"Wish we would have listened to you, maybe we could've got our name in the Goblets after all" George said as others approached her.
"I didn't do it -"
"Oh if it couldn't be Angelina, at least it's a Gryffindor -" Katie Bell remarked before pulling her into a hug.
"Where's Harry? We wanted to congratulate you two together." Fred said.
"We got food -"
"Stop it!" Hermione cried while she pushed herself away from Katie. The room hushed almost immediately. "I didn't help Harry put his name in the Goblet and Harry didn't do it either."
Several spared a glance at each other before Seamus was brave enough to say what they had all been wondering about. "But we saw you with the Age Line earlier. You almost took the whole thing down."
"Almost," she exaggerated. "Meaning a name could not be put in the Goblet if the person was under seventeen."
Seamus shrugged. "Maybe you went last night after they put the Goblet into the room."
She was just able to stop the scoff that threatened to rip through her throat. "I was in the Library today researching everything that had to do with the Age Line. I knew nothing on how to take it down last night!" It took everything in her not to completely snap on Seamus. 'How could they be so... so stupid!' Hermione felt guilty for thinking of her friends in this way, as even when she called them 'idiots' it was more as an expression than anything else.
"All right then," Seamus said with a laugh, not noticing her she was beginning to turn pink in her anger. "Keep your secrets."
Hermione pressed her lips together and stomped up the stairs of the boys dormitory before anyone could stop her. For once, she was thankful that everyone was more interested with Harry than her as it allowed her to seek out Ron without interruption. When she approached the door to the fourth year boys dormitory, she paused as she heard Ginny's voice come in through the crack.
"She's not going to tell you, Ron, because she fancies Harry. That's why she keeps picking him over you." Hermione shifted her weight on to one foot so she could see the two heads of red hair in the moonlight. Ron was sitting with his back to her on his bed, while Ginny was facing him, sitting on Harry's bed.
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. Like Bulstrode, she hoped that by ignoring Ron's crush on her, that it would go away. When she opened her eyes again, Ginny was staring right at her with narrowed eyes and twisted lips. 'Bollocks.'
Hermione pushed the door open with another twinge of guilt ringing throughout her body for being caught eavesdropping. It certainly did not help the situation at hand. She locked eyes with Ron, and opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.
"So," he cast his eyes to the ground. "Congratulations. What did you use? Was it the Invisibility cloak? He could have slipped his name in while you distracted everyone when you took down the Age Line."
Hermione hid her eye twitch behind the hand as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Honestly, Ronald -" 'Do not be rude, do not be rude, do not be rude.' "I didn't take down the Age Line and the invisibility cloak would have been as useful as apparating on Hogwarts grounds are." She approached them, ignoring Ginny as she did so. "And if we are ignoring how I made you promise that you were to not put your name in the Goblet, I would never do something as risky as that in front of the entire -"
"You did with the Veritaserum prank." Ron said simply. "I thought if we would have done that together, we could have entered the Triwizard Tournament together."
"But you just wanted it to be you and Harry." Ginny said. Her voice was cold and she looked at Hermione with nothing but loathing in her eyes. "Despite that -"
"You don't seriously think we did this, do you?!" Hermione gripped her head and smoothed her hair back. There was so much frizz, she thought she should have taken it out of her ponytail. "Someone wants Harry dead." She sat on Harry's bed, choosing not to address how Ginny scooted further away from her when she did. "It's been that way since first year. You know this, Ron."
Ron had a grimace on his face as he looked at her. When he spoke again, she thought she might have finally gotten through to him. "Ginny, get out."
"What?" She looked wildly from Ron to Hermione. She was in utter disbelief and Hermione thought she knew why – they were treating her as if she was 'a child' again. Hermione almost wanted to feel bad, but truth be told, she was livid with Ginny. She was acting petty – something Hermione thought was a waste of time considering she was angry over misunderstandings that Hermione had tried to explain already.
"I said get out. Hermione and I need to talk about this alone."
'Finally,' Hermione felt like the room expanded ten feet and she could breathe easily once Ginny had exited the room. 'I won't have to fight with Ron for once -'
He made a motion as if he was going to grab her hand, but ended up scratching the back of his head again. "It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth. If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? And Harry either?" Just like that, the room collapsed in on herself and the fire that was her anger burned through the last of the oxygen. "He's going to win a thousand Galleons prize money, and he won't have to do end-of-year tests either..."
"If he wins, and if he doesn't die, Ronald." Her voice was shaking and before she knew it, tears were racing down her cheeks to splatter on the cold hardwood floors between them. "Harry doesn't want this attention and I would have never helped him. I made you two promise – what would it take for you to use that brain of yours?"
Ron recoiled back as if she had slapped him – something she wanted to do, but she knew her words had been hurtful enough, not to mention that ever since she had been at Circe's Colander, she genuinely made an effort to keep her hands to herself.
Instead, she chose to run out of the boys dorm, weeping as she pushed past her housemates crowding the common room, before she climbed out of the portrait hole and disappeared from her tower.
Draco stared at the gleaming, golden oak floors as he paced back and forth.
'What if I misjudged her actions? Perhaps avoiding her was too much? Mother goes for weeks without speaking to father at times and they work it out when she is ready to.' Draco looked once more at the music room door, as if Hermione would appear if he stayed staring at the wooden door. 'Am I ready to talk to her again?' He ran a hand over the back of his head. 'Of course I am. I was just wanting to make a point -'
He stopped mid-step when Hermione finally walked in, well after curfew. She was rubbing at her eyes that were as red her nose and he felt his shoulders fall at the sight. He expected to see her in such a state, and it's why he had been waiting for her in the one place they shared with each other and no one else. Despite what had happened the last time he and Hermione were there, he knew deep down if she needed a safe space, she would find her way here:
To him.
"Are you alright?" He spoke meekly, as if he might scare her if he spoke too loud. She did look spooked, her body still half in the door frame so she could back out at a moment's notice.
Hermione saw his question for what it was though, and closed the door behind her. She didn't run to him this time. Instead, she tried to hold her tears in as she walked with her head hung low when she approached him.
When she was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders to get rid of the space between them, causing her to bury her face in his chest. She made an attempt to hug him back, but her hands barely hung on to him as she wept and whimpered, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind, in fact, he felt as if this was partially his fault.
He had been avoiding her for so long because he wanted to prove a point, not just for Bulstrode, but to himself. He saw that she was doing well enough by trying to move forward with her mistakes peacefully and without resorting to neglecting herself again. He envied her strength and he came to the realization that maybe Hermione didn't need him like she seemed to need Potter and Weasley. The thought hurt, and the pain he felt only worsened when he realized that he sort of needed her. He wanted to feel like he could function independently. No help from his mother, his father, or Hermione.
Having her so close to him shattered that vain want. Draco thought that she was the only one who would accept him for who he was, and what he was. She wanted to be his friend after he told her about the World Cup and he was stupid enough to push her away after he chased her. Hermione was right when she said she was loads better than Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy combined. Hell – he would even throw Blaise in there and they wouldn't compare to the loyalty and protectiveness she brought out in him – and that was saying a lot when it came to Blaise.
He had to make things right.
"Is there any way he can get out of it?"
She shook her head.
"Then what can we do? Do you know what the first task is?" He removed a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it between them, giving her the privacy she needed to clean herself up.
Hermione took it and turned away from him as she blew her nose. He felt a cold chill hit his chest and he looked down to see that the middle of his dress shirt was sopping wet from where she cried. He started to reach for his wand to cast a heating charm, but stopped when she turned around, not wanting to offend her.
"What do you mean?" Her voice was raspy and he tilted his head to the side.
"You... Didn't put his name in the Goblet, and I doubt that he was smart enough to find a way to put his name in the fire." When she didn't take his bait, he opted to use charm instead and smirked at her. "I know you're going to dedicate every waking hour to helping him with his tasks. If the only time I get to spend with you is in the Library, then I suppose that means I'll have to help you, too."
"You... would help Harry for me?" Her bottom lip wobbled as her eyes started to fill.
He wanted to say something snarky to put off the intensity of the moment, but he couldn't. He could feel how touched she was and how important this moment was for her.
For them.
"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you, Hermione. You're my best, oof-" She slammed into him, causing him to stumble backwards.
"I hate fighting with you, I hate it!" When she squeezed him, he closed his eyes as he hugged her back. He put his cheek on her head and just allowed the weight he put on his own shoulders to drop.
"I hate it, too."
They stayed like that for a while before they broke apart. They didn't talk about the kiss, Bulstrode, or even the Triwizard tournament. Instead, Hermione insisted they work on another piece to play for Narcissa and Lucius when they got back home on Easter. When they were done, it was several hours into the morning and neither wanted to risk the trek back to their common rooms.
So they didn't.
Hermione looked around her before grinding her teeth together. She would have much preferred to be in the graveyard instead of the Paris street she was on.
Nonetheless, she could feel this dream was different. Often, when she had to relive the nightmare that was her parent's death, there was a fog so she was unable to see too far in to the distance, and she only had use of three senses – evidence that it was only a dream. A fabrication created by her imagination.
But this dream?
As Hermione walked down the same path she had so long ago, she took notice that her skin was cold to the touch, due to the humid air that also made her hair frizz, but she could feel that under her clothing she was actually warm. She could hear the distant buzz of the tele in the distance, and if she would have looked up and to the left, she could have clearly saw the Orangina orange juice ad playing. The cafes had been closed for hours by the time they were leaving the theatre, but the smell of baked bread and glazed sugar was still battling the bitter scent of smog. When Hermione licked her lips, the perspiring sweat on her upper lip tasted vinegary, meaning she was due for a second shower.
Hermione walked with her hands in her dress pockets until she saw her younger self and her parents walking together in the distance. She had always experienced her nightmares in the first person, this was something that was also entirely foreign.
She gasped when they all suddenly froze, as if she had pressed the pause button on a VCR. Her younger self looked up at her with large eyes before holding out a hand, palm up. "Come on." Hermione hesitated but her younger self was not going to leave any room for an argument. "We've wasted enough time."
Hermione blinked and she saw a flash of a yellow sigil in her mind's eye. "Yes... We have." Hermione rushed over and took her hand. At once, the nightmare became just a touch more familiar as she became one with her younger body – except this time, she wasn't able to control her actions. They continued walking, and no matter how much she resisted, it appeared that she was going to have to let the nightmare play out.
As Hermione walked down the same path she had so long ago, she was able to feel the goose flesh rise on her skin when she and her parents passed through wards she never had known were there. The buzz of the tele that she had just heard a second prior disappeared - not even the waves of the water under the small bridge they were on could be heard. The faint, putrid smell of pollution disappeared and was replaced by the smell of a man – the caster. Hermione was put on edge with the sharp turn the nightmare had taken.
"What do you mean the Phantom shouldn't have been with her? He gave Christine his music!" William Granger had his hands in his pocket while he walked with his daughter and his wife, eyes twinkling from amusement as he watched them both with love in his eyes.
"He also pretended to be her father's ghost and then attempted to induce Stockholm syndrome when he kidnapped her." She desperately wanted to stop talking, to tell her parents to turn back, but she was helpless – a feeling she had grown to hate more than any other.
"All good points, but why don't you think she should be with Roul?" Jean Granger gripped her purse absentmindedly as she walked.
"Their relationship was founded on one summer they spent together over ten years ago and he thought he could come back into her life to push her around. Granted she let him, but I think he was manipulating her fear of the Phantom."
"That's my girl." William placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder pulling her into a hug, then looked at his wife, grinning mischievously. "Which is why if she had to choose, Hermione would choose the Phantom."
Jean swatted her husband's arm playfully, "She didn't -" Jean was cut off by a man stepping in front of them in a large trench coat, one too warm for the summer. Hermione was immediately pushed behind her father by Jean who now stood before her husband.
Peering on the other side of her father, Hermione could see Oswald Fudge was pointing his wand at her parents. This was the first time that her mind had ever conjured a face for her parent's murderer and it shook her to her core. 'What does that mean?' Hermione patted her side for her wand and for the first time in her life, she had to bite back an expletive in anger when she realized it was not on her person. Hermione grabbed the back of her father's coat, shaking out of the fear she felt. While she couldn't move on her own volition, her thoughts were her own. 'What the bloody hell is going on?' Hermione's eyes darted back and forth as her thoughts raced.
"What is it you're needing, sir? You should put that down before someone gets hurt."
"Your daughter." This time when Oswald spoke, it was clear, unlike the garbled mess it usually was.
'This is the part where my dream skips to where I'm tied to that radiator in the hostel.' Hermione waited for the scene to change but... It never happened.
Jean Granger went rigid as the grip on Hermione tightened while pushing her behind William even more. Her mother was no stranger to confrontation, and was a trained soldier – so this version of her was much more believable to the Jean Granger who let her husband try to control the situation at hand. Hermione trembled as she thought of how her mother must have been calculating how fast she could disarm Oswald. 'She doesn't know.' Hermione's stomach painfully twisted. 'She doesn't know what a wand can do -'
"I really am sorry that I have to do this to you – I rather hoped she had similar backgrounds to my other test subjects. You see, usually it's children with troubled backgrounds who are pushed to be extraordinary, but you two," She heard a pitying tsk from Oswald and her father, which in turn her, took a step back. "You two love her very much. You left me no choice," Oswald took a step closer to them. "Really." Hermione thought he sounded too smug to be truly remorseful.
"Every child is special, you'll learn that when you have your own, young man."
Oswald's stare snapped over to William, who had spoken. His face went from mildly triumphant to molten rage. "Don't talk to me like you know anyth-"
The brief distraction was all Jean needed to lunge at Oswald.
Unfortunately, a flick of a wand was much faster than her ability to close the meter between them. "Everte Statum," Jean was sent flying back and William stepped to the side to catch her, sending both of them to the ground on their backs.
"Run, Hermione!"
Hermione did no such thing, instead choosing to help her mother and father to their feet.
"I don't have time for this - Expulso!"
"No!" Hermione threw her hands up, just as she did in the forest out side of the Quidditch Trillenium Stadium several months ago, and a shield appeared, encasing them all in a transparent blue bubble.
'It's not going to hold.' Hermione, who was now much more familiar with what defined her as a witch, could feel her power start to give out. Her intent to protect was strong, but her will was unguided and waning with every breath her past self took. When she smelled copper in her nostrils and her nasal cavities warmed with her blood, the shield disappeared.
Hermione felt her arm being grabbed by either her mother or her father – she wasn't sure who at the moment – forcing her to run. The effort was made in vain as Oswald cast another spell.
"Carpe Retractum!" Before she could take two steps, Hermione was ripped from her father's grip as she soared backwards and into the waiting arm of Oswald.
"NO!" She panicked and immediately started to throw her elbows back at Oswald. "HELP US!" This dream version of Hermione was ready to scream herself raw if it meant someone, hopefully another wizard, would intervene. Hermione forgot then that she was in a dream then, and thought her actions were her own once more. 'If someone could just -'
"Hermione!" She looked up through watery eyes to see her parents starting towards them again. Her mother was almost in arms reach when Hermione was cast to the side by Oswald.
It almost seemed to happen in slow motion when her mother was murdered. As her mother pulled her arm back, ready to hit Oswald with the heel of her palm, he pulled her in by the lapel of her jacket. It effectively caught her off guard, completely surprising her and throwing her off balance. Oswald them pressed the tip of her wand into her stomach, and whispered a fatal, "Bombarda." Jean was dead before Hermione hit the ground.
Hermione could hear screaming as she crawled to her mother's body. She put her hands over the gaping hole in her stomach. 'I have to stop the bleeding.' Putting pressure on the wound only caused the dark liquid to seep through her fingers, covering her digits completely. 'Mum'll be mad about my clothes, but I'll apologize – I just have to help her right now – Who is screaming?!' Spit from Hermione's open mouth dribbled on to her hands, and she realized as the spit bubble ran over the thicker liquid, she was the one who was screaming.
"No, no, no, no, Jean!" Hermione's head snapped up to see her father standing there in absolute horror. The figure looming over her shifted and -
'Why is he just standing there?' "DA!"
"Avada Kedavra!" William's body seized, a look of horror was etched on to his face forever as his lifeless body fell to the ground.
It was the last thing she saw before her entire world went black.
"Rennervate."
With a gasp, Hermione's eyes snapped open and she looked around only to see Oswald's stern gaze on her. The lamp post outside of the alley way caused the brim of his black bowler hat to cast a shadow that covered half of his face with a diagonal shadow.
"Silencio."
He wasted no time toting her by her bound hands down a deserted sidewalk. Hermione could tell by the taste in the air alone, that she was no longer in Paris, but somewhere else in France. She wildly pulled back, fighting off the soreness in her chest that came with a stupefy, but it was too easy for him to half drag her up the stairs of a building. She had just enough time to look up at the sign above the doorway, desperate to identify where exactly she was. 'Dormir à Lyon Hostel. I need to get away and -'
And what? 'What can I do?' Flashes of her mother, dead beneath her as she wept came back to her and her dad falling to the floor, defeated, slipped into her mind. 'They can't be dead. I'll escape and call them and they'll pick me up -'
Before she realized it, Hermione was being tugged through a numbered wooden door – his suite no doubt. 'I need to get away, I need to get out of here!' When they passed through a second doorway into his bedroom, he briefly let go of her to lock the door with both hands. She didn't hesitate.
Hermione threw herself forward and was able to use his surprise to her advantage and shove herself through the doorway. She ran to the front door and tried the locks, but they wouldn't budge. She could hear Oswald walking towards her – he didn't even bother to run – and she quickly assessed her surroundings. She had two choices: Run to the kitchen and hope to find a knife to defend herself with after she cut the ropes off her wrists that she recognized to be from an incarcerous spell, or run outside through the open window, and use the fire escape to get away.
"Come 'ere, Crumpet. I promise I won't hurt you as bad as I did your mummy and daddy." Another glance between the dead end kitchen and the fire escape -
The door unlocked behind her and she had just enough time to step back. 'Maybe I can force my way though -' but who she saw next shocked her. 'Oh no, run, run, RUN!' Just like before, Hermione found herself unable to command her movements.
When she saw the Minister of Magic walk though the door, Hermione had no choice but to watch her dream self relax, thinking that she was safe. She immediately trusted the politician, thinking he would never be caught in a scandal with kidnapping. She immediately started to point towards her throat and the open room that Oswald was now standing in. Cornelius Fudge bent over in front of her after removing his lime green bowler hat.
'Bowler hat?' Her stomach churned with unease and she stopped waving her bound arms in wild gestures he had no interest in deciphering. Cornelius grabbed her wrists and walked her to his son. The anger he felt rolled off of him in waves as he passed her hands to Oswald, who looked like a child who had been caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
"I wasn't expecting you to be back yet. I hold only alerted you an hour -"
"Yes, well, unless I wanted the French Parliament after me, I had to clean up the mess you made, didn't I?" Fudge breathed in and out of his nose heavily. "I told you that while we were out here, you were not to touch a single mudblood. I was working on securing a little farm for you where you can have your pick -"
"I couldn't resist her - look!" Oswald removed his wand from his pocket and pointed it at her. A lengthy series of symbols floated between her and Cornelius, but he hardly spared it a glance. It took longer than it should have for Hermione to determine what it was, but she soon realized that it was her vitals she was looking at. "Imagine all of the tests she would be able to endure, we could learn so much -"
"Get her out before your mother sees her." Cornelius growled. "She thinks I was called on emergency business, not paying off every French Auror who responded to the spectacle you made."
The symbols disappeared and she was once again being dragged into the bedroom. She fought nearly three times as hard this time, hoping that if she couldn't get out of the window, she would find Mrs. Fudge who sounded like she was more inclined to help her, but he was a grown man who looked as if he spent some time every week in a gym. It seemed he barely had to lift a finger before she was secured to the hotel radiator – the same one she had already became familiar with in her other dreams.
"It'll be days before we can get a portkey home." She wasn't sure if Oswald was talking to himself or her as he dug through his suitcase looking for something. "But in the very least, I can make the most of my time and study every bit of you I can. It'll be easy to determine the basics, lessening the time it will take to triage you once we're all back in England."
'What is he going to do to me? He's barmy! Completely barmy!' Hermione pulled wildly at her restraints. Tears flooded her vision and she tried screaming in a vain attempt to break the silencing charm on herself.
"Enough of that!" Oswald said sharply as he stood behind her. He gripped the root of her curls with one hand to yank her head towards the ground so she was looking up at the ceiling. He then moved his hand to grab her jaw to pry it open, and with his other hand he force-fed her a potion so purple it appeared black at a glance. "Swallow like a good girl, Crumpet."
His hand was secured back in her hair where he kept her away from the radiator, causing her to feel light-headed and making it impossible to spit the potion out. 'Why does this taste so familiar – it's Dreamless sleep draught!'
"I said swallow it!" Oswald pinched her nose leaving her with no other option but to swallow the potion if she wanted to breathe. Still, Hermione writhed as she attempted to at least spill the potion on to the floor, but it was no use. 'No, no, I won't -' but it was too late.
"Yes, that's it." He purred
He got up and walked over to his bed where she saw him putting away a black, leather bag that looked just like the ones muggle doctors used several decades ago. Her last thought before she fell into a deep slumber was how she had always hated the look of bowler hats.
When she opened her eyes again, she was still tied to the radiator. She felt sluggish and her chest ached with the lasting pain from the stupefy. She heard the cadence of two voices arguing and turned her head to see her captor standing in the doorway, trying to keep someone else out.
"Your obsession has gone too far!" A woman cried out. "You were such a sweet boy! What did we do wrong?"
"Da!" Hermione's outburst had her body careening forward without her wanting to. It took almost all of her strength to speak out loud as the last few traces of the silence charm dissipated. 'How long have I been here? It must have been at least a day if I am able to talk again...' "Da, help."
There was silence before she heard the sound of someone in heels walking away, only to be replaced with two sets of footsteps that approaching her. The lighter set had one foot that had a habit of scraping a heel against the ground, and she knew it belonged to her kidnapper, Oswald. The second set was heavier and there no specific distinction in the gait, but she imagined it must had to have been Cornelius.
"She's valuable, father -"
"You've done enough."
"Please, just give me a little more time."
"Shut up."
While Hermione was mentally clear, her body found movement to be impossible as the potion was still thick in her veins. The more she continued to fight it, the pain would come back so intense that she had to close her eyes and focus on keeping the vomit down as it threatened to come up.
"Time's up, Crumpet." Hermione thought Oswald sounded both delighted and sad before, but she now knew it was just the distortion of her senses being too great, leaving her unsure. He sounded miserable. It wasn't too hard to imagine he was talking about flushing his favorite fish down the loo. "You'll be meeting your parents soon."
Hermione felt hope wiggle through her drug-addled mind. "I saved them?"
"From the first curse-" There was a slap and the man stopped.
"I have a better idea, and you will listen to me this time, boy." The floorboards creaked and Hermione could see a pair of shiny black shoes enter her vision. So shiny she could see Cornelius raise his wand, blocking out the reflection of his lime green bowler hat - "Obliviate!"
Hermione could feel her eyes unfocus and her body go limp. She had read that the early stages of a powerful obliviation spell can act similar a magical lobotomy, meaning she could still hear what was going on around her.
"Now listen to me Oswald, I won't tell you this again. I've already paid off some Frenchmen to take her into their precinct. They're going to handle the international paperwork of having her brought in as a child who had just lost her parents. After they contact the Ministry, I will keep a close eye on her case and you will never come into contact with her again, do you hear me? The amount of memory charms I will have to do on her to ensure she does not botch my future as Minister will be intricate that I can not risk her recollecting them from seeing your blasted face!" Hermione would have gasped in horror if she could, but her body was lifeless. She incapable of doing so much as a twitch of her toe.
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes."
"Good." She could almost feel the carpet dip in front of her as Fudge turned to her. "Stupefy."
Hermione sat up with a gasp so loud, one would have thought she had never breathed air before.
Her heart pounded in her throat as her brain processed what her eyes were seeing. She gave a shuttering breath as she remembered that she was back at Hogwarts and her parents were dead. 'A dream -' her stomach sank. 'No... A memory.' Her stomach ache disappeared.
It was with that confirmation alone that she knew what she had just re-experienced had been true. Her parents were murdered by a wizard, their deaths covered up by another. The bloodlust she felt made her feel like she was in the Shrieking Shack again with Peter Pettigrew in front of her, except much, much worse.
The emotion was so strong, and so clear that when the blood in her hands started to simmer and her hands began to smoke, she immediately took control of the flames. Once the flames flashed from orange to blue, she decided to enjoy it. Hermione had always been drawn to fire, and she found it was the easiest element for her to work with, just like how Lucius found water to be the more malleable element. She rolled her hand over and watched the fire flicker and weave in the air.
She trusted Fudge on sight. It had been her first time seeing the former Minister of Magic in person, but that didn't mean she didn't recognize him. Hermione had made it a point to familiarize herself with his image once she felt comfortable enough in the wizarding world. She was aware that wizard politics would affect her just as much as muggle politics, if not more.
'They were murdered.' The flames crackled. 'I was obliviated.' The flames blazed at that, and threatened to turn orange if she continued to let her rage grow. Hermione held on to the truth, not allowing it to escape her now that she was choosing to accept it. 'This is what I was supposed to remember. This is what I refused to keep seeing -'
"Hermione?"
She glanced over her shoulder to see Draco rubbing at his eyes as he sat up. She couldn't get rid of the fire before he saw it. "What's wrong?" She was silent as his gray eyes searched her face, trying to asses what might have made her so distraught that she physically conjured fire. He raised a hesitant hand to wipe the tears on her face and she flinched away.
Hermione looked down at the now-red skin of her hands. "I don't want to talk about it." She couldn't talk about it. Not yet. There was still a small part of her that was hanging on to the idea that she had only experienced an intense fabrication that was brought on by the stress of Harry's life being put at risk.
Hermione sniffed before sliding off of the transfigured piano. She had been apprehensive about doing it, but due to the piano already being a larger size than the other objects in the room, it was the easiest object to manipulate into the king-sized bed they both comfortably slept on. They were so knackered from playing themselves ragged, that they didn't have the time to get embarrassed that they decided to share a bed – although both kept their distance throughout the night.
Draco followed her lead and had barely slid off of the transfigured piano before it was back to its original state. His eyebrows were raised as he glanced at her, but she paid him no mind as she roughly raked her fingers through her hair. It was a mess, and without product, it would look best if she left it down and untamed – much like she did in her first and second year.
"Do you want to leave first or shall I? It would be suspicious if we went to breakfast at the same time, don't you think?" Hermione hope Draco didn't noticed how detached she sounded as she charmed the wrinkles out of her clothes one by one. 'I just need to get through the day. I just need to handle one task at a time – Baby steps, Dr. Augsen would remind me.'
"Here," Draco pointed his wand at her to cast a charm that would remove all of the wrinkles out of her clothes at once, but it had been the wrong move to make. His only warning that she was about to put him on his back was the flash of fury crossing her face before a flash of red as she hexed him. She hadn't even uttered a word.
"Draco!"
He gasped as he rolled to his side. He could hear her running towards him, but all he could think about was getting air back into his body as his wand rolled away from him. "Oh, Draco, I am so sorry!"
"You - you," he tried to fight off the gasps his lungs were involuntarily making, but it was no use. While he wasn't in pain from her hex, she had completely knocked the wind out of him. "You hexed me."
"I didn't – it was just a reaction!" Hermione was on her knees in front of him, unsure of what to do. "Just take some deep breaths, alright?"
He didn't think there was much else that he could do, but he didn't say that. When he was able to sit up, after a minute or so, he rubbed his diaphragm as he spoke. "Suppose you had a nightmare then?" Hermione continued to worry her bottom lip as she nodded the affirmative. "Still don't want to talk about it?"
The anger and the blood-lust were still very present with in her, despite how miserable she felt for hurting Draco. Alarm bells were going off in her head with how comfortable she was with it. "Not yet. It's a new one and... I need to sort it out first." She stood then, "I should go. Harry and Ron are going to be looking for me." It was too late when she realized that the statement would be half true. "I'll see you in class."
Hermione rushed out of the music room, only glancing over her shoulder once. She saw Draco watch her leave as he sat on the floor, but the brief bit of guilt she felt had her running from him with her tail between her legs.
At least, it did until she remembered what she had dreamt about. She became focused as she walk, now that she had a face to hyper focus her ill feelings toward. She had went after Peter Pettigrew before because she thought her parent's murderer was dead - 'He planted memories!' - but now that had changed.
She contemplated skipping breakfast as the first thing she wanted to do was resubscribe to The Daily Prophet. There wasn't much she could do within Hogwarts walls, but the Fudge family was still a hot topic despite Cornelius' political downfall. She realized she would need to send an owl for that – meaning a trip to the owlry was needed – but she couldn't afford anyone asking any questions on her whereabouts. She didn't want to answer any questions with how irate she felt. Despite that she was now wide awake, she doubted that she wouldn't hex someone else with how hostile she was feeling.
Hermione was so deep in thought that she almost passed Hedgeflower completely, despite the Hufflepuff calling out her name several times. "Granger, I'm, talking to you!" Hermione whirled around when she felt the Hufflepuff pull her shoulder back.
"Don't touch me!" Hermione took a step away from the other teen. Hermione didn't miss they were alone in the entrance hall, something that was uncommon for such a high traffic area.
Hedgeflower was taken aback at Hermione's outburst. It was only the second time that Hermione had stood up to her. "What you Gryffindors did yesterday was disgusting -"
"Oh!" Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to stomp away, waving a hand at the Hufflepuff as she did so. "I hardly have time for this!"
"Hey, look at me when I am talking to you!" Hermione whirled around in time to see that Hedgeflower had her wand drawn. Hermione had just brandished her own when the first hex was cast. "Anteoculatia!"
Hermione dodged the hex just in time and glanced over her shoulder to see the red streak collide with a suit of armor in the hallway. Metal antlers noisily grew out of it's head, but she didn't have time to watch them finish growing. As she spun around, she drew her own wand before casting her own hex. "Herbifors!"
Hedgeflower was not expecting retaliation from Hermione at all, having gotten away with the bullying for a month, and stared in open mouth horror at Hermione as half of her face sprouted flowers. Within seconds, she was only able to see out of one eye as the other was covered in the bulb of a rose.
Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop the manic laugh that wanted to burst out. 'Of course that's the first spell I think of. How fitting.' Hermione stood tall as she leveled her gaze with Hedgeflower. "No one in Gryffindor house put his name in the Goblet and the fact you think I would put my best friend in the face of danger is unimaginable. This entire thing is ludicrous!" Hermione thought surprise was visible on the part of Hedgeflower's face was not covered in blossoms, but she disregarded it. What was surprise supposed to do for her? "Keep your wand to yourself. I won't let you hex me again and if you try to go after Harry..." Hermione was shaking with the wrath she imagined she would unleash on anyone who would harm him. 'I have to protect the last bit of family I've got.' She was at a loss for words, so she turned on her heel leaving Hedgeflower where she stood.
"Why'd you have your wand out?" Harry asked as soon as she took her seat by him. She looked at her left hand to see that she did, in fact, still have her wand in hand.
"No reason. Where's Ron?" As she scanned her table, ignoring the stares that even her own house was giving her, she spotted him and Ginny sitting towards the end of the table, near Angelina, Fred, and George. Neither Ginny nor Ron looked down the table to acknowledge her.
"We got into a bit of a row." Harry's tone caught her attention and she took note of the strained expression he bore. "Where were you last night?"
She swallowed the truth before she could blurt it out. "I was in bed."
Harry's eyes pinched together, but before he could question her any further, Seamus joined them, slamming today's paper on the table as he did so. "Mornin', Harry. Hermione." He nodded at them both as he gave them his signature goofy grin. "So, any clue on what the first task -"
"Seamus, may I see that?" Hermione pointed to The Daily Prophet. She could not believe the title to be true. She felt her body temperature drop as if she had swallowed an ice block whole.
"Sure." He passed it to her before starting a conversation on the Tournament that was only bound to annoy her bespectacled friend.
As she unfolded the paper before her, her lips parted as she silently started to read the article beneath a header she didn't expect to see:
FORMER MINISTER OF MAGIC, CORNELIUS FUDGE AND HIS WIFE, FOUND DEAD IN HOME.
