Malfoy manor had become sullen, as if the first sadistic sparks of war had been extinguished by death and tyranny. The Flints' most valuable heirlooms, paintings and books which had been charmed to withstand flames arrived the next day in wooden boxes. Their house elf had died in the fire, Hermione realised suddenly. She explained away her guilt and sorrow with bereavement of Raven. Mother was newly restless about their family going extinct and resumed pressuring her daughter to date someone. Her incessant nagging was surely worse than any boy could possibly be. There was a quiet member of the death eater youth, called Adrian Pucey, who seemed a suitable candidate. He was one of the only members in the slytherin quidditch team who didn't commit fouls, but Hermione had no idea to talk to him and convey that she was (pretending to be) more than friendly.
"Horribly ironic," mused Draco. "You know, to set fire to the home of the Flints."
"Yes thank you Draco, I got that."
They were in Hermione's room as she unpacked her few preserved belongings, as well as filling a drawer with the contents of her purple bag. The extendable ears, still in garish packaging, were fished out of her bag. Both teenagers stared at the device, and then looked at each other. Hermione smiled deviously.
"I don't know about you, but I don't have many details about this war I'm expected to be involved in."
Draco smirked before inconspicuously walking to the second floor to check if anyone was in the meeting room to spy on. He returned, eyes lit up with mischief, and ushered his accomplice to his room. The walls were rather tastelessly decorated with slytherin banners and flags, who's emerald and silver was reflected by his four poster and carpet.
"We can get onto the roof from here." Draco moved his desk upon a table next to the high window, and precariously balanced a chair on top. It didn't look safe at all, and when Hermione opened the window she saw a two storey drop beneath them.
"Have you done this before?"
"Yes, we'd go out the normal way if the route wasn't via the dining room. While we're in here- hold on, muffliato. I can only safely tell you that they tried to get Potter in July, but failed. Managed to kill auror though. Most of it I don't understand, and the rest would get me killed if I told someone."
Draco was fixing some ropes to climb onto the roof and Hermione transfigured them into a grappling hook.
"The Dark Lord was furious when they infiltrated the ministry. He tortured most of the auror department and Yaxley. I've never seen him so angry. It was scary. Also Bellatrix was yelling something about a locket when she got back from Grimmauld place."
"Oh! When Potter escaped the ministry, I noticed that Umbridge wasn't wearing her locket, and I think they took it. Do you think it was the same one? I wonder what's so special about a locket."
Draco finally managed to secure the hook to the railing above and started climbing up the rope, then grabbed hold of the railing and hoisted himself over. Hermione followed suit, ignoring his outstretched hand to help her up.
Once on the copper roof, Hermione got the extendable ears out and banished the packaging.
"Come this way," Draco was already walking across the roof. "We can put them down the chimney. They don't have the fire lit or smoke would be coming out."
They both inserted one end into their ears and fed the fleshy strings down the tall chimney, immediately picking up on gruff, serious voices.
Hermione recognised the voices of Rookwood, the Lestrange brothers, and Lucius. But they were talking about something unintelligible without context. It was a waste of time, in the end. They didn't find anything out and questions remained unanswered. Stiff with cold, the pair climbed back into Draco's room, which was significantly harder than climbing out of it.
Almost as soon as their feet touched the floor, Narcissa burst in with her jaw clenched and her lips thin.
"What exactly do you two think you're doing," She hissed, closing the door behind her. "I could hear you on the roof- you're unbelievably lucky that no one else did."
Draco seemed to shrink into a young boy under his mother's wrath. Narcissa caught sight of the extendable ears in Hermione's hand and snatched them away. She examined them, horror dawning on her face when she realised how incriminating they were, and banished them.
"Was this your idea?! Hermione, how could you be so stupid. If you dare put my son in danger again-"
"It was my idea to go on the roof." Muttered Draco, staring at his feet.
"Then you can stay here for the rest of the day- and you," Her harsh cold eyes turned on Hermione. "Come with me. I can't trust you two in the same room."
She was commanded into a lounge, Narcissa locking the door and casting a silencing spell before she resumed her admonishment.
"If you were caught by someone else you would have been tortured- or worse. I thought you were more mature and intelligent."
"But I just wanted to know more!" Hermione's pride stung, and she was upset to have drawn out this side of the Malfoy. "Am I expected to follow orders without any knowledge of the effects of my actions?"
"Yes!" Narcissa threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "That is exactly what you're supposed to do, what everyone else is managing to do, and It's not how life is going to be forever. But if you don't behave yourself now, you'll never have the chance to see that."
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry but It's so frustrating. Please stop scolding me." Hermione sat heavily on the couch in resignation.
Some of Narcissa's iciness began to thaw. "I'm not trying to scold you, I'm trying to protect you both from your childishness."
"I know, and you are right. I won't do it again."
"I think you need something to keep you occupied, darling." Narcissa exhaled her residual frustration and sat beside her. "When will you return to the ministry?"
"Not yet. I think I'll owl the minister to give me the next week off. It's so depressing there."
"Why?" Narcissa rested her arm on the back of the couch to face her.
"For one, there are dementors in the courtroom below us."
"... That's horrible. They kill you inside, those things. Lucius was so changed and withered after Azkaban, and my sister- well, you know what she's like now, but before…"
Narcissa took a deep breath.
"Bella used to be so bright and full of life. She laughed, a lot- it was nothing like the manic sounds she makes now. She was enthusiastic about so much more than just torturing people- before she became obsessed with the Knights of Walpurgis. I used to think she was given a love potion.
"If neither of them had received the dark mark, if they were still happy enough to produce a patronus- they would be better. Irreparably damaged, yes, but better. I fear it may already be too late for Draco. If he turns out like them, I would never be able to forgive myself."
Hermione had no idea how to comfort her, so she continued the conversation on the one part of this tragedy that she knew something about.
"Your patronus... Is it an egret?"
Narcissa nodded, gracing her again with one of those touchingly sincere smiles that Hermione was becoming addicted to.
"I wonder what yours would be. A mink, perhaps? Can you produce a patronus?"
"I've read about them, but no."
The older witch leant forward and clasped Hermione's hands beseechingly.
"Let me teach you. Then your sanity and spark will be protected from those dementors in the ministry."
It was impossible to turn down a chance to learn, so at Hermione's eager nod, they began the lesson.
"You know the incantation, yes? Good. Think of a happy memory, re-live it, think of how it made you feel and let that feeling fill you until you can channel it through your wand."
Hermione flicked through the happy memories in her mind. Receiving 100% in her first test at Hogwarts was the first thing that popped up, but that was too shallow. Just the thought of flying with Raven would make her cry, and she didn't want to look so weak and vulnerable in front of Narcissa- again. The memory of meeting Miles and Terrence for the first time after sorting made her glow inside. Hermione focused on that memory; her friends excited first year faces- and readied her wand.
"Expecto patronum."
Nothing happened at all, but if anything it only made Narcissa more enthusiastic.
"Try again, flourish your wand less, relax your stance."
"Expecto patronum… Expecto patronum. Expecto patronum!"
She produced a wisp of bluish white smoke and her impromptu teacher congratulated her. Figuring she should try a more powerful memory, Hermione focused instead on one of the best days out in Hogsmeade with her friends.
"Expecto patronum!"
Another wisp, and another string of praise and advice. But on her next attempt, Hermione's mind was clouded by more recent memories of a decrepit Hogsmeade, and the boys being imprisoned by the death eater youth. At her failure, the melancholy started to consume her again. Narcissa noticed and squeezed her shoulder.
"There may be too much joy and not enough hope in that memory. But It's exceedingly rare to produce a corporeal patronus on your first day of trying. I certainly couldn't. Well done, that's it for today."
The next week, Hermione had run out of excuses to stay away from work. Her day wasn't as bad as expected, and she arranged to meet with Terrence and Miles, who's shifts finished at the same time. They met outside the ministry, by the visitor's entrance telephone box, and walked together to a small pub a few streets away. The closest they come to mentioning Flint house burning down was putting their hands on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. Hermione decided to broach the subject so they wouldn't do that all evening.
"I want to find out who destroyed my house and burn thiers to the ground."
"Oh. Fair play." Terrence nodded but Miles looked concerned.
"It could be anyone in the country not on our side, Hermione. You need more to go on."
Thankfully only four other solitary wizards were in there cradling butterbeers, and one hastened to down his drink and leave at the sight of the teenagers. Hermione ordered two pints of gillywater for herself and sat at a table in the corner.
"Neither of you would be my fake fiance would you?"
Terrence spat out his drink. "Gross. I've known you since first year."
"Oh well. Advertise me to Adrian then, if you would."
As soon as the alcohol started to hit they played wed, bed, or behead.
"Ok," said Miles, swallowing his mead. "Celestina Warbeck, Professor Vector, and Dolores Umbridge."
"Warbeck? Not that fat old trout!" Terrence laughed. "Behead her, wed vector, and- Merlin!"
Hermione choked on her beverage. "Bed warbeck, wed Vector, behead Umbridge."
"Very keen to wed Vector, aren't we?" Miles teased. "I'm feeling like I missed out- not taking arithmancy."
"Greyback, Millicent Bulstrode, and… Nymphadora Tonks."
"High stakes, that, Hermione. I hope no-one's listening because you know- you know what I would do I would bed the blood traitor, kill Bulstrode- disgusting- and then… yeah."
Terence wrinkled his nose. "I'm not the only one who isn't a bloody queer, am I?"
Hermione threw her empty glass at him, which bumped off his shoulder and smashed on the floor, and the bartender threw them out with a resigned air. They laughed so much on the lamp-lit street outside that Miles threw up. Deciding to walk to a nearby park, Hermione had to hold onto Terrence's arm to keep her balance. It was euphoric to not have to change clothes and hide from muggles, instead staring back at them defiantly, in the knowledge that the ministry now didn't enforce the statute of secrecy. Terrence slipped off the curb trying to run to the park bench and only just missed being hit by a muggle vehicle, which made an obnoxiously loud noise as it passed.
"Hey! OI, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" He fired a curse but it missed by a long way, only succeeding in sending the scant few pedestrians hurrying away from them.
Miles started singing in noctem, very tunelessly and loudly. Flitwick would be ashamed to hear the former member of the frog choir. They vaulted the railings and sat on a bench, Hermione conjuring a blue fire to keep them warm, and miles rolling a cigarette that smelled more like gunpowder than tobacco.
"What is that?"
"It's good. I confiscated them off someone yesterday. Do you want one? They're safe, I've had about ten."
He rolled two more and handed them to his friends. They lit them on the blue flames. Terrence inhaled too sharply and coughed. Hermione observed the smoldering end, then inhaled. Thick blue smoke filled her lungs and was exhaled up into the starry night air. It was bitter and acidic, but made everything still. There was only this frivolous night with spiraling smoke, and her friends lit up faces.
"Ah! So this is where you two went."
Urquhart, Bole, and Montague emerged from the shadows of a copse in the park, still wearing their uniforms proudly. Urquhart had a pink scar over his eye that stood out starkly against his dark skin tone. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he had given it to himself to look tough.
"I hear you're staying at the malfoys. Is that why you're so prude, because you've fallen for that cowardly-"
"Shut it. He's seventeen and he's already done more for the dark lord than you ever will."
"Which makes him more useful than your entire family."
"Oh, you're such a berk. You really have no clue what happens above street level."
"Just because your house got burnt down doesn't mean you're better than me." Urquhart drew out his wand and stalked menacingly towards her.
He seemed to expect her to back away, but Hermione stood her ground, with her chin raised high. When he was three feet away, his cocky smirk snapped Hermione's resolve. She strode towards him angrily, taking him by surprise. In a flash Hermione grabbed his wand, twisted it back to disarm him, and punched him squarely in the face, with such force that he stumbled back.
Everyone started duelling immediately.
"Nice punch," Terrence yelled over the sound.
"Thanks," Hermione returned. It was such a thrill to let go.
"Muggle duelling! You really aren't better than me at all. Worse, if anything. Now give me back my wand!"
She threw it over him and continued fighting. Through a haze of drunkenness, Hermione realised that somehow they had the upper hand, and were driving the others back over the fence. Adrenaline coursed through her, and she hit Bole with a flipendo so strong he was flung over the fence and onto the lamp-lit street. They appeared to have won, at that point. Spells stopped firing as Montague retreated to help his friend. Terrence whooped in victory.
A bus made a loud sound that caught everyone's attention, and swerved before driving straight into Bole. Hermione gasped as his limp body was sent several meters away, before landing with a crack of broken bones, leaving a trail of blood on the tarmac. Muggles started shouting in panic. Usually Hermione would have confunded them and dealt with the situation, but she just stood there stupidly, worrying about how much trouble she would be in.
The Dark Lord had been abroad and was displeased upon his return that Bole was unconscious at St Mungo's. Hermione was hungover and dressed in dolorous black robes as she knelt shivering on the floor before him. The Malfoys, her parents, Bellatrix, Miles and Montague all sat at the long table behind them.
"You have disappointed me, Hermione Flint."
His voice was blood curdling- inhumanly shrill but remaining sinister, powerful, and alarmingly calm.
"My Lord, I am sorry-"
"Silence! I have been informed as to your actions last night, and had quite the mind to punish you. Your actions were as destructive as an auror. Childish, foolish, wasteful. But your kin have promised you to my ranks instead.
"I am a charitable Lord, and will grant you the opportunity to repay me."
"Thank you, my Lord, thank you."
"Look up, child."
She obeyed. He was shockingly pale, dressed in dark green robes, with slits for nostrils and red pupils. The wizard had been reduced down to his pure magical energy, which emanated from him and gave the room a coldly electric atmosphere. The heir of Slytherin studied her before speaking.
"Your brother will explain your new duties. You will apologise and settle any petty feuds the moment Bole recovers. You will not slip up again, lest I decide you would be more useful as a warning, suspended and rotting in a cage. Now leave."
Hermione scurried up, bowed deeply, and left the room, her heart pounding in her ears.