It was a task Hermione most certainly did not consider necessary, but given the harried expression her Headmistress wore so constantly all the time, and the fact it seemed like a nice idea to go on a walk of some sorts; Hermione had agreed to "explore" the castle. The request had surprised her, as if she hadn't known of the marauders map at all.
She traipsed out of McGonagall's office, looking distinctly like there were fewer owls and unravelled scrolls of parchment with her head in a bit of a daze. The whole idea of where to begin was just completely impossible to pin point, and the only solution she could think of was to start bottom up; so she would only have to go down a floor when she wanted to go to bed. She stood stock still as the statue behind her closed, wondering if she should attempt her own version of the marauders map as she went; dismissing the idea as soon as it came. It was all well and good doing magic like that over a few months, but in a day when she was meant to be doing something else…she sighed, turning to head towards the dungeons.
"Busy?" he asked, carefully and ever so amused at nothing in particular, his drawl becoming warming and familiar.
"I was about to be; you can join if you want. The company would be nice." She said to him, as he opened his mouth, a brief expression of disappointment on his face.
"It's a good thing I'm not busy Hermione, or I'd have to turn you down. What are you doing?"
"McGonagall has said I should 'explore the castle, to make sure we've not missed anything; and that there are no more hidden surprises like the chamber of secrets.'" She quoted as Draco's face twisted into disbelief.
"That's an odd task, where were you starting?" He asked her, coming to stand beside her, and Hermione's breath began to catch in her throat.
"I was thinking the dungeons, and work my way up."
"Makes sense, come on then." He said, striding ahead of her in the direction of the dungeons. She smiled to herself, doing a half kind of skip in an attempt to catch up with him, falling into step beside him. "So tell me about this chamber of secrets thing then. Sounds like the chamber is real," he commented as Hermione gaped at him.
"It…it is…" she said to him starting to feel unsure of what she should reveal of her time at Hogwarts to him, only to see him sneer in disbelief.
"Bullshit."
"No…Draco, that's…that's how we helped kill Voldemort; we needed something from there." She explained, trying to censor herself, and decide just how much was a good idea to give away to a man who; had been in decidedly murky waters throughout the war. She felt the all too familiar burn of shame as she remembered she had no right in judging what she could and couldn't say to a man whose choice had been removed, but decided to stick to the horcruxes dying with Harry's final speech. Draco continued to walk beside her, not looking at her but his brows furrowed in confusion, a scheming gleam to his winter eyes told another story.
"Show me," he said.
"I'm not sure I can…you sort of need to be a parselmouth." She replied, and Draco leant back on his heels in victory, a triumphant expression on his face his walking taking on an effortless edge that Hermione had never noticed before.
"Oh whatever, I can show you where it's located at least, even if we can't get in." Hermione sighed, as Draco grinned at her, the air around them becoming chillier as they neared the dungeons. The lights began to dim; the stone walls seeming darker somehow.
"So what are we doing exactly?" Draco asked her, as their footsteps dragged them ever closer to the lowest point of their school.
"I guess just open every door, check all the rooms are clean and stocked; if not, mark it with our wands or something along those lines. I don't think we'll find anymore rooms here." Hermione said as they turned a corner into the potions corridors. Draco began to open doors with a flick of his wand, peering inside as Hermione began to copy, feeling there was little sense in actually physically hopping from door to door, but seeing where they had been would be a help.
"You never know; could be we are the discoverers of a room filled with nothing but feathers or something as equally useless." Draco said in his droll tones, tucking his hands into his suit pockets as he strolled along beside her.
"I'll have you know you can always find a use for feathers." Hermione retorted, an amused smile playing about her lips.
"If it's for stuffing bedding with, let the Slytherin dorms be the first in line for new bedding. We are under the lake for goodness sakes, and there is poor bedding." He bemoaned, as Hermione looked at him curiously.
"Slytherin's have poor bedding?" She asked him bemused, thinking of her own warm Gryffindor bed in the tower.
"Well…not really, it just feels like it sometimes, the dungeons aren't exactly the warmest of places." He smiled at her, as the temperature seemed to drop again. "Look, I'll show you the common room." He said, suddenly taking hold of her arm and pulling her gently in another direction.
"You'll show me the Slytherin common room?" Hermione repeated, slightly shocked.
"Yeah, why not." He shrugged, as they took off down another corridor, Draco's grip on her released, and the disappointment within her swelling.
"It's had to be redecorated; Death Eaters decided to bring all their stuff here, and I wasn't having any of it stay." He commented casually, and Hermione got the distinct feeling he was keeping something behind.
"Makes sense," she said, as he guided her to a blank patch of wall. She looked at him dumbly, wondering why he was facing it so intently, when he muttered a password, and the wall shifted to form an entrance. "Oh!" She gasped, as Draco gestured for her to go on ahead; and she did so, taking in the blacks and greens; the dull light. The ornately carved fireplace, that looked as if the fire in its hearth was permanent. The skulls that decorated the walls, the tables, and the mantel piece. The tapestries and the Slytherin crest. She shivered slightly, missing the welcoming warmth of the reds and gold's of the house she belonged too; the cold light of the Slytherin's chambers seemed to miss any hint of welcoming; instead seeming to prefer grandness, and an almost intimidating appearance.
"This explains a lot." She said, looking about at the leather seats, "especially explaining your taste in decorating the new common room and our rooms." She smiled, as Draco smirked.
"Well, taste is important." He retorted, as Hermione looked at him with an amused smirk of her own.
"It's a shame it's been redecorated already, I'd have loved to see it before, and I almost saw it in second year." She slapped her hand to her mouth in horror; as if to slam the words back into her head and never say them. Draco looked at her in disbelief again, stepping closer to her, a look of mirth crossing his features.
"Oh come on Hermione, I think we've been at story time for the past couple of hours, you can tell me; how on earth would you have got in here in second year? What with being the insufferable little twit you were back then, not to mention you were ever so…recognisably Gryffindor." He smirked, curious and amused.
"Harry and Ron managed it, and you never noticed actually." She began to giggle, "Even had quite the conversation with them too."
"I did not."
"You most certainly did, although, what you told us wasn't as useful as we'd hoped."
"What are you on about?" He asked her, clearly confused and she spluttered with laughter.
"Oh gosh, you remember the whole 'Slytherin Heir' thing? Harry, Ron and I, we sort of wanted to crack the case; seemed like a good idea at the time, especially with Harry actually hearing the basilisk in the walls – we didn't know it at the time of course, him being a parslemouth, but we got involved." She began, seeing Draco's confused; slightly alarmed expression she sighed, "Anyway, the point is to three twelve year olds, who would have seemed like the most likely candidate for the 'Heir of Slytherin'?" She asked him, trying to hold back her laughter as he thought desperately. He shrugged, looking to her with a mask of complete perplexion.
"I dunno…Snape?" He replied, and Hermione laughed loudly.
"No! You! You who bragged about being pure-blooded, and perfect, and is such a typical Slytherin that the sorting hat barely grazed your perfectly slicked back haired head!" She gasped, almost doubled up with laughter as Draco looked as if he'd slapped in the face, "there was no way you were going to speak to us and admit the truth, so I made polyjuice potion in moaning Myrtle's toilet, gave some to Harry and Ron who became-"
"Crabbe and Goyle." Draco finished, looking at Hermione with bemusement. "I thought they were off that day; "especially considering one of them had Potter's glasses." He continued as Hermione laughed louder. "But polyjuice potion? You brewed it? At twelve? I smell bullshit again Hermione."
"We can ask Myrtle you know."
"I think we will. Although…if Potter and Weasley were here, surely you would have planned to come along too?" He asked her shrewdly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Hermione blushed immediately, her eyes widening.
"Well, yes, I did plan to come along."
"As who?"
"Millicent Bulstrode…" she admitted, as Draco spluttered.
"Millicent Bulstrode?" He gasped, on the verge of hysteria, "You thought I wouldn't find it suspicious if Millicent Bulstrode just strolled over with Crabbe and Goyle and asked me about the whole chamber of secrets thing? No woman allowed Goyle near them! Even Millicent!"
"We were twelve! She was a Slytherin! It was flawless in our minds!" She protested, as Draco began to laugh out right.
"So why wasn't I visited by old Millicent?" He asked her, grinning as he chuckled. Hermione flushed such a dark red that Draco's eyes began to glitter with mirth, his smile widening.
"Turns out…turns out Millicent had a cat." She said quietly as Draco unleashed such a roar of laughter Hermione cringed with embarrassment. His laughter seemed to echo about the chamber, genuine, happy and light it mingled with Hermione's embarrassment until she found herself laughing along with him.
"Right, that's it, we're leaving, I need to get some kind of concrete proof that all this happened; because you turning into a cat is better than anything I could have ever dreamed of." He gasped, grabbing her forearm again and tugging her towards the exit. She blushed, wishing she hadn't tied her hair up into a top knot that day so it would fall over her face, hiding the flame to her cheeks. His hand slipped down her sleeve, coming to catch on her wrist; and slowly, tentatively his fingers gently traced down her palm. Setting it aflame as he went. His fingers snapped slightly, as if her were to take hold of her hand, entwining their fingers, but he let it fall and Hermione tried not to gasp with the sheer disappointment that swallowed her up. They fell into step beside one another again, Draco's chuckles breaking the amicable silence that had formed between them as they opened doors and peered in on the way back up the floors of the castle.
"We can go to Moaning Myrtle for proof I brewed the potion at twelve," Hermione said suddenly, as if willing her pride to prove she was capable of making such a thing at such a young age.
"To Myrtle?" Draco repeated as they began to walk towards the warmer airs of the floors above, still fresh and sweet as McGonagall insisted on having the windows and doors open to allow for an air flow; as if she believed she could let the wind blow away all the death that had befallen the hallowed halls.
"Yep, she was a witness of sorts," Hermione cringed, realising that the ghost would most likely be more than happy to tell the tale of her short lived experiences as a cat.
"Then we're going there next." Draco affirmed, as they entered the entrance hall; the great doors held open by magic, and the faint rustling of a breeze at the corners of tapestries, and tussling stray strands of her hair about her face.
"Hagrid!" Hermione called, spying the friendly half giant stroll up to the Head's office with a look of sheer bafflement and concern. "Everything alright?" she asked him as Draco slowed beside her, radiating nerves for a reason Hermione couldn't quite place.
"Yeh, just gotta go see McGonagall; 'bout the unicorn that's been 'bout the forest, it's not lookin' good fer it, that's for sure." Hagrid said to her, and Hermione noticed the slight silvery smudge upon a rag he was holding.
"Oh, oh dear." Hermione found herself saying, completely at a loss for words.
"Yeh, well, bes' be goin'." Hagrid said to them both, raising his hand in a slight wave and leaving towards McGonagall's office at double the pace. Hermione sighed; recognising Hagrid had no wish to be rude, but the unicorn was clearly troubling him. She watched him continue up the stairs as Draco caught up to her; chewing her lip.
"Sounds curious." He deadpanned, his hands still in his suit pockets, and she nodded, distracted from the task that they'd been set upon completely.
"Yes, right well, let's continue on to Myrtles then." She said briskly as she could, pretending the idea of something as sweet and pure as a unicorn being so injured hadn't affected her in the slightest. Draco threw her a disbelieving glance, before following her up the steps, to the first floor girls toilets that were abandoned, and the home of a resident school ghost.
Myrtle was playing, splashing about in the toilets, if the sound of water being flicked from behind the door was anything to go by. The squeals of laughter following a splash making Draco's lips curl into the smirk Hermione was so used too. She pressed her hands on the door, giving Draco a sly grin as she nudged it open. The sounds of splashing almost immediately stopping as the creaking of the door happened. The light of the room seemed to be brighter, despite most of the light coming from the reflections off the water that seemed to be a permanent fixture to the floor. It was if Myrtle enjoyed blocking the drains so she could have a lake within the school, simply to play with, or to lure people in. Hermione and Draco stepped in to the room, their reflections wary in the mirrors as a shrill giggle erupted from a toilet.
"You're back." Moaning Myrtle giggled, swooping up from her toilet and shimmering about Draco, a coy expression on her ghostly visage.
"Yes," He said, almost uncomfortably as Hermione's brows raised in sheer amusement.
"I knew you'd come back, the sensitive ones always do." Myrtle said to him as she spun about in the air, sheer knowing delight across her features.
"We've got a couple of questions for you Myrtle," Draco started, stepping forward and relaxing against one of the sinks that seemed to be a familiar position for him; as Myrtle splashed out of a toilet, and came to hover in front of him. "Did she," he jutted his head in the direction of Hermione, "brew a potion in here about five years ago?"
"Oh yes," Myrtle confirmed, taking a look at Hermione with a scandalously wicked grin, "first one to do that." She continued as Draco looked shocked.
"Was it polyjuice potion?" Draco asked her further, his eyes upon Hermione and staying there as she looked at him smugly, crossing her arms in victory across her chest.
"It's what the book said it was; I don't know though, never brewed it myself. But…she, and Harry; and the other boy all turned into other people when they took it. Only…she didn't." Myrtle began to cackle, finding the memory almost hysterical as Hermione began to close her eyes and sigh. The price of her pride predictably paid. Draco's expression became one of mirth again, his eyes widening as the realisation sunk in.
"You really did become a cat!" He exclaimed the howling laughter back once more and Myrtles' own delighted squeals joining him.
"I've never heard you laugh before." Myrtle cooed, swooping down and rubbing her ghostly shoulder up against Draco who began to look distinctly awkward again. "I like it." Myrtle giggled, throwing a possessive look at Hermione.
"What about the chamber of secrets Myrtle?" Draco continued, attempting to ignore the ghostly fourteen year old rubbing herself up against him as Hermione managed to get in a couple of laughs.
"Oh yes, Harry managed to open it. Then that red headed boy." Myrtle confirmed again, her eyes a little dreamy as she mentioned Harry for the second time, and she pointed to a sink beside Draco, its tap a small snake.
"You have to say 'open' in parselmouth for it to open." Hermione told Draco as he moved to study it, his features twisting into confusion and jealousy.
"Potter is the heir of Slytherin?" He asked in disbelief as Hermione laughed behind him.
"No; Merlin no. Voldemort was."
"So how did Voldemort manage to open the chamber if he wasn't in the school?" Draco asked her disbelievingly again, and Hermione looked increasingly awkward and pained.
"Voldemort had a way with dark magic. A real way with it. He possessed people Draco." She told him quietly, as Myrtle hung above them, her face hungry with the gossip. Draco swallowed, looking back at the sink carefully, and spying lines that didn't fit the stone work of the wall. As if the sink would just fall away to reveal an entrance.
"So if Potter managed to open it because he's a parselmouth, how did Weasel-King do it?" Draco asked her again, staring intently at the small snake.
"He copied the sound Harry had made and hoped for the best; I think the desperation helped as well. Took him several times actually." She replied, walking about the toilet slowly, almost reminiscing. Draco straightened up and stared at Hermione curiously, the jealous tinge coming back into his eyes as he looked at her.
"You weren't always such a good girl were you?" He asked as Hermione laughed loudly.
"I don't know why people have this idea of me," she exclaimed, "I've been just as involved in breaking the rules as Harry and Ron, almost from day one of the first year here; admittedly, it was Halloween it all began, but that isn't the point. I broke rule after rule, laws too, I'm not a goody two shoes everyone seems to think I am." She sighed, as Draco smirked.
"Apparently not." His tone mildly impressed.
"We done?" Hermione asked casually, gesturing to the door as Myrtle squealed and threw herself about the ceiling, Draco nodded, quickly ducking towards the door as if he hoped if he were fast enough, Myrtle wouldn't notice the lack of his presence.
"Do come back!" Myrtle called as Hermione dragged the door shut; and the pair looked at each other, sighing with relief and quickly scurrying away from the door sharing a quiet splutter of laughter as they went. Draco pulled her about a corner, grinning at her.
"She wouldn't think to look here; she only looks up and down when she's desperate; not away." He explained and Hermione looked at him with a curious expression.
"Chase after you often, does she? You sensitive boy." She teased as Draco's expression fell and she blushed, feeling awful.
"Yup." He said, as if she'd said nothing wrong, and made to continue on their journey.
"I'll show you the Gryffindor common room." Hermione decided, as the two headed for the next floor up, an abashed quiet between them.
"You sure?" He asked, genuinely surprised.
"Well it's only fair." Hermione smiled.
The two of them ambled up the stairs, casually peering into classrooms as they went; checking what they felt like, the task McGonagall had set Hermione only half way carried out, and Hermione smiled inwardly as she realised McGonagall had not set a deadline. They reached the third floor, and a flood of nostalgia returned to her once more; a small giggle escaped her lips, and Draco snapped his head around to look at her.
"What's so funny?"
"I wonder…" she spoke aloud, barely hearing him; and set off in the direction of a corridor that had been locked their first year. The doors loomed over her, closed, but unlocked.
"Why are we here?" Draco asked her, catching up to her finally and staring at the doors in confusion.
"You remember these were locked in first year?" She asked him, looking up over her shoulder at him, a coy smile on her face.
"Yeah, and?"
"Ever wonder what was behind it?"
"I think every student in the school did; what's your point?" He said, as she continued to look at him with a grin on her face; the coy smile vanishing as mirth began to replace it. A sunrise happened over Draco and he looked at her astonished.
"Oh don't tell me you broke in here." He said, dumbfounded as Hermione laughed.
"Yep, Harry, Ron and I. We did it; it's why we won the house cup. Something had been sent here to be protected, and Harry assumed someone was going to steal it. He was right, and being Harry, decided to capture the culprit all by himself. Ron and I went with him." She explained as Draco looked pained.
"Slytherin never bloody stood a chance with you being in Gryffindor." He groaned, and Hermione laughed gently. "So what was behind the door then?" He asked, as Hermione walked away from it, spying classrooms behind the once locked doors.
"Each of the teachers had set a trap that someone would have to get through in order to break in. There was a chess set, where we were the pieces. We had to play a game of chess to get through the room. A huge Devil's Snare plant, then a room filled with enchanted flying keys; Hagrid's dog Fluffy-"
"A dog?"
"Well, it had three heads and could barely fit in the room, but yeah, I'd say it was a dog." Hermione shrugged as Draco listened in bewilderment, their trip now taking them to the fourth floor. "I'd say the most dangerous of all though was Snape's potions." She deliberated, now completely lost in thoughts as if she were speaking to either Harry or Ron.
"Snape's potions?"
"Yeah, he had a riddle, and a load of different sized bottles with potions in. Two were poison, and another would let you through the door with fire in front of it. That's all I can remember really, but safe to say; if we'd had the poison…" she shivered, and Draco looked at her in astonishment.
"You were willing to drink a possible poison for the good of the school?" He asked her dumbfounded, blinking in awe.
"Well, no not really, more when you really think someone is terrible, don't you do everything in your power to stop them?" She replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I suppose if you have the choice," Draco responded sourly, his eyes darkening for a moment, and Hermione flushed with shame, forgetting that the world wasn't as black and white as it were so often depicted in books. A quiet descended upon the pair of them welcome and familiar, and almost comforting between them as they walked up the floors of the school, Draco following as they rose higher within the school.
"You Gryffindor's have a climb;" Draco said dryly as they reached the seventh floor. Hermione smiled at him, turning a corner and spying the portrait of the fat lady.
"Yeah, but we're here." She grinned, handing over the password to the woman who began throwing suspicious glances at the boy she knew to be a Slytherin. She swung open, and Draco looked mildly impressed, before walking into the common room.
"So this is the Gryffindor's lair." Draco drawled, looking about the warmly decorated room curiously, spinning on his heels as he admired the tower. Spying the two sets of stairs on either side, he raised a brow curiously.
"Which side is the girls?" he asked Hermione, a slight cheeky edge to his voice.
"That side," She replied pointing, the corners of her mouth quirking up in amusement as she tried to guess as to what he was about to do. With lithe, elegant strides, he headed towards the girls dormitories; only to be rebuffed as the staircase instantly became a slide. He slipped, tumbling downwards as Hermione laughed.
"Same as Slytherin." He determined, rolling on to his back, a grin on his face.
"Stops the parties from getting too wild." Hermione commented cheekily as Draco got to his feet.
"You had parties?" He asked her in surprise.
"Well of course, lots of quidditch wins, and well…Gryffindor's like a party. Fred and George also had something to do with it being so frequent; they were quite the fan of a good party." She commented, looking about and smiling; remembering all the celebrations she'd shared with her house. "Surely Slytherin partied?" She asked him, her brows furrowing a little.
"No, not really; nothing to really celebrate." He commented, a small look of envy on his face.
"We will need to have one in the eighth year dorm then, or sneak you into Gryffindor somehow, I'm quite good with polyjuice, you can be a Weasley or something, and no one will ask questions then." She laughed as Draco began to look horrified.
"I think I prefer eighth year party, invite people into our common room." He decided firmly, as a glimmer of amusement spread over his features. "Listen to us, the Heads of Hogwarts already planning raucous parties. What terrible examples we set." He said slyly as Hermione laughed again, trying to remember the last time she'd felt so light and easy around someone.
"I'm sure Hogwarts will survive." She smiled as Draco took a step towards her, his face suddenly serious. "We should be getting back to McGonagall, to tell her about us finding nothing."
"We should," he agreed. His expression thoughtful. "Fuck it, Hermione, how would you feel about dinner in our sitting room this evening instead of the hall? I never thought I'd say this, but I enjoy talking to you, and I'd like to continue to hear about how you Potter and Weasel managed to make me look like a damned fool all these years."
Hermione gasped, as Draco's eyes caught hers, searching and hopeful. She blushed, a smile crossing her features slowly.
"Yes, I think I can deal with that." She agreed as Draco looked delighted.