A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter. See bottom A/N for detailss
Hogwarts/Hogsmeade
November 21, 2006
Hermione sat in Millie's living room, warily eyeing the door, choosing to ignore the soft knock and return to her book – Moste Potente Potions, a fascinating, if perhaps ethically murky, compendium of potions. Her instructor had thankfully been called away, so she had the luxury of not being attacked that morning.
Knock knock. She looked at the door, annoyed; Millie wasn't at the house and she was fairly certain that Draco had his 'training' or whatever it was he did all day as a 'soldier.' Knock knock knock. She huffed and put her book down, relaxing her face into what she hoped was a neutral expression, which shifted into surprise upon seeing who was on the other side of the door.
"Astoria?" Hermione blurted out.
"Hello, Hermione," she responded with a serene smile. She had on light blue robes that managed to somewhat show off her feminine figure, and her blonde hair bobbed against her shoulders delightfully. "I apologize for coming here unannounced, I was hoping I may speak with you?"
Hermione blinked a few times before nodding awkwardly and opening the door, gesturing for the younger woman to enter. "Er," Hermione started, guiding her to a chair in Millie's living room. "Can I get you something?"
"Some tea would be lovely." Astoria nodded. Hermione went to the kitchen, trying to remember how to make tea the magical way, and returned with what was likely a lukewarm concoction. Of course, Astoria took a sip and graciously thanked her.
"So," Hermione started, nervous and fidgeting uncomfortably, "was there something you were hoping to talk about?"
"Oh, well, not particularly. It's rather awkward but," Astoria mumbled and turned away.
Hermione found her neck turning red in anticipation. She knows about Draco and me. Hermione tried to mentally formulate some sort of denial or excuse.
"While of course I enjoy being here, where I can practice my magic without prohibition, I find myself – nostalgic for things from my old life." Astoria smiled again, lightly biting her lip.
"Oh, of course." Hermione felt almost idiotic for not considering it before. Perhaps it was because Astoria seemed to fit in so seamlessly or smiled constantly. But then again, that was rather hypocritical of Hermione, who was also playing a role here, so to speak.
"Is there anything specific you – think of?" Hermione asked.
"Well, my cell phone, of course. Though, it's lovely to be able to Apparate throughout Hogsmeade whenever I want to speak with someone," Astoria qualified, smiling.
"Yes, it is quite strange to be without one. Though I spent the last two years out of cell range, so I guess I'm used to it." Hermione mulled it over, frowning. "Do you miss your family?"
Astoria looked uncomfortable. "Well, I'm very happy to be here, and I'm very excited to be starting my own family. Perhaps I wish that my sister could be here with me as well," she responded diplomatically, her words clipped and purposeful.
Hermione suddenly wondered if they had any news out here. Did Astoria know Harry was alive? Did she know that her sister had been appointed to represent wizarding England in Parliament? She suddenly felt this irrational desire to tell her how she had met Harry and heard all about Daphne but knew she couldn't. For all she knew, Vold – the Dark Lord – had put Astoria up to this, had asked her to come over and test Hermione's loyalties.
"Astoria," Hermione started, deciding at the very least it would be okay for Astoria to be aware of what was going on in Daphne's life that was public news. "Have you heard everything going on with your sister and Harry Potter?"
Astoria's eyes grew wide. "No, they – we, don't concern ourselves with WEA news here." The younger witch looked contemplative for a moment. "Was there something you wished to discuss?"
It was clever wording, Hermione admitted, and she found herself moderately impressed. "Oh, well, we caught the news a few times while we were on the run," Hermione lied. "Harry Potter was assumed dead, but he's alright, he showed back up right before Draco and I came here. But Daphne Greengrass – that's your sister, right? – took over his seat in Parliament." Hermione chose to forego mentioning Daphne had also become the subject of a media scandal.
"Really?" Astoria asked, eyes wide. "I can't believe I missed that." She looked away from Hermione, looking troubled before she remembered herself, her face returning to a serene mask. It was puzzling to Hermione – trying to reconcile this young woman who was nostalgic for home with the female Death Eater she seemed so ready to be. She had come here of her own volition, hadn't she? Was she regretful or perhaps simply nostalgic? Or was she being purposefully disarming?
Hermione once again found herself feeling as though she couldn't trust anyone. The brief interlude in Cambridge with Harry, Ginny, and Sirius had reminded her what it felt like to be on a team, to be able to speak openly without fear of reprisal. But now, rather than fearing mere imprisonment in the WEA, she experienced the looming threat of death - or worse.
"My father must have been ecstatic." Astoria smiled.
Hermione vaguely recalled the investigators call the night before their departure from Cambridge and knew that Astoria's father was in fact implicated in Harry's assassination attempt, but she chose to just nod and smile. "Um," Hermione awkwardly attempted to fill in the silence. "Was there anything else?"
Astoria looked torn, taking another sip of her tea and gently placing it on the saucer before responding. "Oh, nothing specific, it's just nice to speak with someone who has some familiarity with the world I grew up in."
"At least Draco has had some experience in the WEA." Hermione could have slapped herself the second the words left her lips.
"Yes, that's true. But his experiences were limited and quite different than my own," Astoria explained.
Hermione wanted to protest, because that was true for her as well, but preferred to shift entirely from the subject of Draco.
But, Astoria wasn't done yet. "Speaking of Draco, there was something I was hoping to speak with you about."
Hermione attempted an innocent smile. "Hmm?"
"Look, Hermione. I know that you and Draco went through a bit of an odyssey together. And you seem quite close. It's just, I'll be married to him in three weeks, and at that point, I would really like him to be my husband." Astoria gave a regretful smile.
"Of course," Hermione agreed, willing her cheeks to stop turning red!
"I'm not trying to suggest you two can't be friends, I'm not that kind of person. I–" Astoria paused, raising her eyes to look at Hermione directly. "I came to Hogsmeade for one reason – to get married. I will be honest with you, Hogsmeade was not what I expected. That's not to say I'm unhappy to be here, just that it was not something I would have ever anticipated. So far, Draco has been a perfect gentleman, but he's quite distant, and I believe I know why." She spoke clearly but Hermione could still detect her discomfort.
Hermione tried to put herself in Astoria's shoes. Of course, she had never grown up with any kind of expectations or antiquated family values. But still, she tried to imagine how she would feel if she had been sent to marry someone, only to find they had run off to find some other woman in another country. It was odd to consider – ever since Harry Potter had said Astoria Greengrass's name two weeks earlier, Hermione had seen herself as the wronged woman.
But she had never stopped to consider Astoria's feelings or really think of her as more than some nebulous person. From Astoria's point of view, Hermione was a free agent. And given that, apparently, they had a real male/female ratio problem within the Death Eaters, Hermione theoretically had her pick of the draw, whereas Astoria's marriage had been meticulously curated by the Dark Lord.
Hermione wondered just how lonely Astoria must feel – like a fish out of water. Had she made any friends? Hermione had only limited exposure to the Death Eaters her age. She frankly wasn't particularly fond of any of them other than Millie, whom Hermione found to be an anomaly. But at least Hermione had an ally in Draco, whereas Astoria had no one.
But what could Hermione possibly do about it? She couldn't risk honesty in this situation. Though she could, of course, control her base impulses, at least until they were out of Death Eater territory. This led to a question she patently did not want to consider: what if they were still here in three weeks? Thus far, their progress had been negligible, and they would theoretically need to remain here until Harry and Ginny made contact.
Hermione had tried not to care about Draco, to rationalize that her feelings were the result of a rather intense month spent nearly exclusively with just one person. That their few – relations – were the result of lust and nothing more. She notably tried not to think about his declaration of love that last night in Cambridge. Instead, she had developed a perfectly rational explanation for his outburst: he, having grown up in an insular society with a limited number of females his age, was so intrigued by someone different that he confused his fascination with love.
The problem was, just thinking about Draco and Astoria was like a gut punch. As much as she tried to tell herself it was about trust and Draco's tendency towards lying, if she really admitted it to herself, she was jealous. But, she realized, she didn't exactly have a right to be jealous. In fact, looking back on her anger at Draco, technically he wasn't obliged to even tell her about Astoria! They had never made promises or commitments to one another, so why did she feel this way?
"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione finally responded.
"Thank you. I just really would like, once I'm married, for my husband to be mine, and only mine. Do you understand?" The young witch looked at her, the serene smile now a light frown.
"Yes, I understand," Hermione told her, and really, she did. She could control her impulses, and it would be more appropriate for their entire mission if she and Draco refrained from any further 'activities.' So she nodded and smiled at the younger woman, mentally committing to distancing herself from Draco and limiting their time together to strictly business. Perhaps after some time her feelings for him would dull, and she wouldn't feel so tied up in knots.
"Thank you." Astoria smiled, drinking the last of her tea and standing up. "It was nice to hear about Daphne." She nodded at Hermione and headed to the doorway, pausing at the threshold before shaking her head and stepping out.
Hermione felt restless, her eyes glazing over the same sentence of a particularly gruesome potion that promised to turn anything to goo. She pulled out the Marauder's Map and, confirming the area around her makeshift lab appeared vacant, went to the castle, hoping to distract herself from her swirling thoughts.
Later that afternoon
"Father." Draco frowned as he walked into the Great Hall, eyes darting around the room. "Did you summon me?"
"Yes," Lucius drawled, looking up from where he sat at a table in the center of the hall. "We haven't had a chance to speak since your return. I've been hoping you would come visit me." He sounded distinctly bored and remained seated.
Draco approached the table, noticing the parchments arranged in neat piles. "My apologies, Father. I didn't know you expected me." He bowed his head automatically in respect.
"Hmm." Lucius looked at him carefully. "You haven't said much about your time away."
"Haven't I?" Draco blinked. "There really isn't too much to say."
"Is that true?" Lucius questioned. "You were there for 5 weeks. Surely you must have something to say."
Draco attempted to keep his expression neutral as he contemplated the situation. Did his father suspect something? As far as he was aware, he hadn't given the slightest indication of his 'adjustment' in loyalties. He had seen friends, continued training, and followed orders. Of course, he had been avoiding his father...
"What would you like to know?" Draco finally asked.
"Perhaps how you found the Alliance," Lucius spat.
"It was–" Draco paused, "suffocating."
"Was it?" Lucius raised his eyebrows. "How so?"
"They don't allow you to use magic there as you wish. It's regulated," Draco explained.
The older man frowned. "And wizards have submitted to regulation?"
Draco watched his father carefully, contemplating his next move. He and Hermione had been purposefully vague when describing how they met and the details of their departure from the WEA. They had assumed the Death Eaters would have no interest in hearing about the world, and so far, that assumption had been correct. The Dark Lord was only too happy to hear about how horrible everything was and how amenable Hermione was to joining them.
He wondered what had made Lucius skeptical? Was it that Draco had been avoiding him? Or perhaps there was something he missed.
"They don't seem to have much choice." Draco shrugged.
"Hmm." Lucius nodded. "And what of Ms. Granger?
"What about her?"
"The Dark Lord has told you the prophecy. Do you think she can do it?" Lucius' bland expression revealed nothing.
What is he asking me? His father didn't discuss tactics or gossip with him; it wasn't done. Was it perhaps a legitimate question? It wasn't entirely unreasonable – she was somehow supposed to return the world to how it was. Even someone like Lucius Malfoy would want to understand more, like how she could possibly do it.
In fact, that was the question Draco knew the other Death Eaters whispered to one another: how was it that a Mudblood could possibly hold such power? Sure, the Dark Lord was vocal in his belief that Hermione wasn't really a Muggleborn but, regardless, it made the others antsy. And frankly, he was getting somewhat concerned with the lack of clarity in the Dark Lord's plan.
"I don't know," Draco started. They assumed the Dark Lord must have known about Hermione's role in the Event; presumably that was why he assumed the prophecy referred to her. But it was questionable if he had told others.
Draco and Hermione had not revealed what Sirius told her. Instead, they indicated Hermione had been able to recover some innocuous memories, and her powers came with Dark Lord seemed satisfied with the explanation, but now, given his father's targeted line of questioning, Draco couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the Dark Lord was somehow aware that Hermione knew of her role in the Event. "She's intelligent," Draco conceded.
"If you say so," Lucius deadpanned.
"Are you questioning the prophecy?" Draco asked, head tilted to the side. What he really wanted to know was if his father questioned the Dark Lord's interpretation of the prophecy.
"Our Lord is wise. He understands such matters far better than I do," Lucius clipped.
"I agree." Draco nodded.
"So, you didn't see anything in her that was – notable?" Lucius asked.
Draco felt the skin on the back of his neck warm. He could count many things about Hermione that he considered notable, but of course, none of those things were quite applicable at the moment. The memory of her casting a Patronus came to the forefront of his mind, a truly notable feat of magic. But a Patronus was inherently light, so what exactly did that mean? Of course, the Dark Lord espoused that power was neither light nor dark, but still... It was well known that users of the dark arts were unable to produce a Patronus.
"She seemed to pick up new spells quickly," Draco pointed out.
"Hmm." Lucius nodded before his wand buzzed and a parchment floated up to him.
"Do you need anything else, sir?" Draco asked.
"Just one thing. I noticed one of your mother's journals missing from my library. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to it?" Lucius raised a single eyebrow in question.
Draco swallowed. "My apologies, Father. I took it upon returning. I can put it back."
"Hmm." Lucius narrowed his eyes. "You only needed to ask. But why, exactly, did you take it?"
"Well," Draco started. His mother's journals had intrigued Draco as a child, but as he got older, he had more or less forgotten them. After his encounter with Severus Snape, Draco sought, well, anything that would shed some sort of light to the memory that was now stuck in his head. "I've been having dreams about her." That was the truth, just not the whole truth.
"Strange."
"Indeed," Draco confirmed.
"That is all." Lucius placed his head down and returned to his parchment. Draco let out a slight exhale and turned to the door, almost jumping upon seeing the Dark Lord's giant snake. He raised his eyebrows, surprised, and turned to his father who explained without looking up, "Nagini has been restless lately. Our Lord has allowed her free range of the castle."
Draco shivered slightly, and his eyes went wide as they glazed over the markings on the snake's head. It was a familiar marking, one he'd never been close enough to recognize before now. His face paled, his breaths quickening as the snake turned away, slithering to the other side of the hall.
He shook his head, forcing himself to take deep breaths, and left, scratching at his right shoulder.
He had just turned down the path to Hogsmeade when a figure appeared on his right. "Draco."
He jumped. "Shit, Hermione! You scared me."
She bit her lip. "Sorry, I was studying in my lab and on my way out when I, well – overheard you and your father."
Ah, he realized what that look was: guilt. "Alright." He frowned.
"Why did he interrogate you like that?"
"I'm not sure, to be honest. It could have been inherent curiosity, or perhaps he was asked to."
"I had a visitor this morning," Hermione told him. "Astoria."
He stopped and turned to her. "What?"
She kept walking. "Mm-Hmm. She uh–" Hermione bit her lip again. "I believe she suspected why we took so long in the bathroom the other night."
Draco had just caught back up to her, eye twitching slightly. "And what'd she do? What did she say to you?"
"Relax, she was perfectly cordial. We talked a little bit about home – I mentioned the news about her sister. And then she mentioned that she would like to have her husband to herself once she gets married." She looked at him pointedly.
"That's none of her business," Draco drawled.
"Yes, that's right Draco," Hermione bit out sarcastically. "The poor woman was sent here for the sole purpose of becoming your wife, but who you sleep with is none of her business." She stopped and turned to him, grabbing his elbow. "That's not true, is it? Do Death Eaters believe it's okay to just cheat on their wives?"
Draco shut his eyes for a moment. "I don't believe so, and that's not what I meant. Just that I don't know her yet, and we are not married."
"You're engaged," Hermione pointed out.
"Yes, and it was arranged."
"You Death Eaters are quite strange with the way you think that just because an engagement is arranged, somehow proper rules of etiquette and respect don't apply!" She let go of his arm and kept walking.
"I don't understand – are you on her side?" he called as he caught up to her.
"Honestly? I don't know," Hermione admitted. "But regardless of where we are or how we got into this situation, I've found I don't quite feel comfortable with the idea that our," she paused, "indiscretions are causing her harm."
He grunted. "So you want to stop all indiscretions?" He could tell she was struggling to adopt her 'rational Hermione' persona.
"Yes," she confirmed. "At least until the current – situation – is resolved."
"Alright," he told her.
"Alright?"
"Well, yes. If Astoria knows something, and after my father's interrogation as you called it... perhaps you're right." He smiled.
"I just figured you'd put up a bit of a fight." Hermione frowned.
"Just do me a favor," Draco whispered, his mouth hovering centimeters from her ear. "Try to bring this situation to an end – quickly." He moved back a foot and smirked at her, appreciating the way her mouth opened and her eyes blinked.
"Of course," she responded finally, shaking herself. They were quiet, watching the last of the sunset in the distance as they walked through the small main street in Hogsmeade. "Draco," she started, "why did you really take your mother's journal?"
He looked torn for a moment before nodding. "I was hoping to figure out what happened to her. Snape believed that the Dark Lord killed her out of revenge. I figure maybe she talked about something in there."
"Did you find anything?" Hermione asked.
Draco shook his head. "I was planning to read it through one more time before returning it. For the most part it's quite – well, boring. She wrote about being pregnant, about how she pictured my life as a small child. Nothing in the journal seemed to indicate she feared for her life, or had any idea of what was coming." He frowned.
"I'm sorry Draco," she said earnestly before stopping, having just reached Millie's house. "Well, let me know if, er, you need anything." She blinked awkwardly.
"Mm-Hmm." He nodded. "And have you made any progress on understanding the Hogwarts magic?"
"Unfortunately, my progress seems to have stagnated." She frowned.
"Well, I'll try and come by your lab this week." He nodded politely.
"Thank you." She headed inside, feeling overly exhausted.
She shut the door and was alarmed to find a man sitting on her sofa. "Theo?" she said as she recognized him.
"Oh, sorry to startle you." He smiled sheepishly. She noticed a few books sitting next to him. Watching her, he started, "You uh, never came by to pick up the Ancient Runes books so I figured I would bring them to you."
"Ah." She smiled politely, her heartbeat still surging at the unexpected intrusion. "Thank you."
"I thought maybe we could spend some time together. We had a nice time talking the other night, didn't we?" He smirked, standing up and placing the books on Millie's coffee table.
"Hmm–" Hermione blinked, "I'm not sure that's quite appropriate."
He chuckled and walked over to where Hermione stood.
She took a step back on instinct.
"I have to admit, I've thought of you quite a bit since that day at the pub."
"That's – nice of you?" she said as innocently as possible, her brain scrambling for how to get out of this situation. She recalled Draco's worries and misgivings about Theo and all the times she'd simply dismissed them out of hand, and she started panicking. "I'm actually quite tired and plan to head upstairs to sleep, perhaps we can finish this discussion at another time?"
"Hermione." He quickly moved to where she stood, forcing her back against the wall, his warm breaths hitting her neck. "I want you." He placed his hands against the wall, his larger body surrounding her.
She was able to duck through his elbow and took a defensive stance.
"I'm sorry Theo. I'm not interested in you in that way," she told him, pulling her wand out.
He smiled, almost as though this was precisely the reaction he was hoping for. "Oh, c'mon. I'm a catch for a Mudblood." He wordlessly disarmed her and approached her again, this time grabbing her arms in one hand and holding them over her head.
What the hell, she thought, her mind running fast as she tried to grasp what was happening. Her training kicked in, and she brought her knee up to his crotch. He let go of her arms briefly, and she pushed the palm of her hand into his nose and ran.
"What's your problem?" he called out, but she was already out of the house and on her way to the only place she felt safe. She had barely left Millicent's property when she felt her whole body freeze. Theo walked up to her and smirked as her body collapsed to the ground, frozen. She was completely helpless so she turned to her logical mind. She knew the counterspell to this – Finite Incantantum. But she had never even used it with a wand, let alone wandlessly and wordlessly. She thought the words with all her might, trying to draw on the properemotion behind it.
But it was useless. Suddenly he was straddling her, his face determined. She wondered if this is what Death Eaters did. And suddenly, as she saw him disrobe, she felt a fear she had only ever felt once before in her life – an overbearing sense of helplessness. Her eyes went wide, and she overcame the spell and she screamed.
He was gone.
Her legs immediately regained feeling, and she stood, the world a strange silent haze. Her would-be rapist was slumped against a tree 30 meters away. And she felt it then.
She felt power.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Trigger warning - there is an attempted sexual assault at the end of this chapter. It's non-explicit.
As always, appreciate any comments/reviews.