Chapter 19
She could tell from the way he stared off sometimes that something else was on Draco's mind. She had already known that he was a Death Eater, even if the two of them refused to talk about it. But she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just that.
Becoming a Death Eater was hardly a light process. She knew what it entailed very well. She knew what he must have seen, what he must have been forced to partake in. And it broke her heart just having to think about it.
But what if it wasn't just being a Death Eater that weighed upon his soul?
She knew that Harry was already suspicious that Draco had something to do with what had happened to Katie a few weeks ago. She knew that he was waiting for a chance to confront him, and demand to know what Draco had done to her and why he had done it.
And she didn't want to believe it was true, but she knew better than to think optimistically. She knew that if he had been given a mission, he probably would never even tell her what it was about.
They weren't friends; they were acquaintances at best. They were study partners, and he had absolutely no reason to confide in her, even if she only wanted to help. And that was all she wanted to do. She wanted to be able to help, to let him know that whatever it was that he was going through, that he didn't have to be alone.
So they never talked about it. They never discussed the unspoken truth between the two of them. That they were on opposite sides of the war that way pars quickly brewing all around them. That when push came to shove, they would be standing on opposite sides, forced to fight one another. That despite them being study partners, they would end up enemies, even if they didn't want to be, but because of who they were. Because she was the mudblood friend of Harry Potter, and he the son of Death Eaters.
She sighed internally, as she tried to concentrate on her notes, but her mind kept wandering, staring up at the boy across from her. The boy whom she was starting to view as a friend, even if they rarely talked about their personal lives. The boy she was starting to care about. The one whom she had loathed so fully years ago, yet now was sitting next to him in the library as if their pasts had nothing to do with who they were now.
"Could you pass that book on Transfiguration?" Draco asked her softly.
She nodded as she picked up the book from the pile beside her, and gingerly handed it over to him. Her hands brushed against his as she did so, and she felt a tingle go through her at the contact.
She felt herself begin to blush at the contact, and she quickly buried her face behind a book from embarrassment. She couldn't let him see her like this; not when she looked as if her face was burning up. Merlin.
She probably could count the number of times she had touched Draco on one hand, all of which had been in recent months, and each time she did so, she swore she felt a similar reaction go through her.
It was like something she couldn't even begin to describe, as if she felt like she was on fire, and burning all to brightly.
And it scared her at times. For the better part of the last few years, she had harboured a crush on Ron, and it felt like an endless cycle of pain. They kept fighting and hurting each other with their words, despite the fact that they were supposedly friends. But for some reason she still cared for him.
But she knew the truth was that she hadn't cared for Ron in a long time. Somewhere between all the fighting and screaming; all the pain and all the truth, she realized that her childhood crush had begun to fade from her heart. That she no longer felt as strongly for the man as she once had.
She knew deep down that the two of them would never work out as well as she hoped. That he would always hurt her, and she him. Their personalities were far too different for them ever to have a relationship with him; one that was healthy and truly loving.
And if she were truly honest with herself, she would admit the true reason she was beginning to drift from her feelings for Ron. The reason why she knew the two of them could never work. The reason why she cared so bloody much about their study sessions, and the reason why despite every logical part in her brain telling her otherwise, she still came to their study sessions, and she blushed so brightly every time she touched Draco Malfoy in any way or form. The truth that she had been trying to deny for so long, despite the fact that the answer was clear to her from the start, even if she rejected it so strongly. She knew exactly what was going on, and she had refused to accept it, despite knowing from the start what all of it meant.
She was falling for Draco Malfoy.
Bloody Hell.
She was falling for the boy who she had spent years avoiding, and years hating. And what was worse, was that she didn't want to stop. She didn't want to stop it; to nip it in the butt while she still had a chance. She didn't want to make it go away. Because she liked it; she liked having academic discussions with him, arguing over theories and principals. She like fighting with him over it, but she liked studying with him as well. She liked staring at him when he wasn't looking, and seeing his calm demeanour.
She liked him, and Hermione Granger had no idea what to do with that information.
Draco Malfoy was worried. He stared at the clock in his flat, as he waited for Hermione to show up for their date that they had planned on having that night.
He knew it was common for her to work late; hell, he had been with her half the times when they were. But since leaving her ex-husband, she had been attempting to make more time for her daughter to ensure that she wouldn't be left wondering why her mother worked long hours. And he knew that while the two of them were having a date without Rose, she still would have sent an owl if she knew she was going to be held up.
He stood by the floo as he dropped in some powder, trying to make a floo call to her office. The last few times he had tried, there had been no response, and he was starting to get a bad feeling in his chest.
He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself, as he flooed Grimmauld Place. For all he knew she wanted to check in with Rose, who was spending the night there, before coming over. He dropped more floo powder into the fireplace, as he heard Harry respond on the other side.
"Draco?" his partner asked him confused, "Aren't you supposed to be on a date with Hermione, right now?"
"She hasn't shown up yet," he said, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest, "She's not at your place, is she?"
"No," Harry's voice said trailing off, "I assume you've checked her office?"
"I went there and checked first," Draco responded, "But it looked as if she had already left. I tried flooing it a few times as well after, but there was still no response."
"Okay," Harry said, "Give me a moment, I'm coming over."
Draco paced, frustrated, as he could tell something was wrong. There was no way Hermione would have just not told him if she planned on cancelling their plans.
Harry emerged from the fireplace moments later, with a serious look on his face, "Let's start by contacting the others to see if any of them have seen her. We can start with Molly. Hermione might have forgotten Ginny was picking up Rose and James today after her Healer's appointment. And if not, she might have gone to see George, or even Bill."
"You think something is wrong too, don't you," Draco whispered, as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
"I can't let my feelings get in the way yet," Harry shook his head, "We need to cover all our bases first, Draco, you know that as well as I do. We need to ensure that we know for a fact that something is wrong, and that we're not solely speculating."
"What if something happens to her in that time?" Draco asked, frustrated, "We should start with Ronald, and see if he had anything to do with this."
Harry shook his head, "I agree that we need to follow up with him, but I don't think he's behind this, Draco. He's an alcoholic, and he is abusive, but I do not believe that he has anything to do with this, and neither do you. Not with all the magical creatures have been hunted down. Not with the death of the Potioneer. Not with Molly Weasley being tortured in the middle of Diagon Alley."
"You think whoever is responsible for all those things has Hermione," Draco said, turning pale at the realization. "Shite."
"We need to still cover all our bases," Harry said, "Talk to everyone in her life. See if anyone knows anything. Start with family, and move on to co-workers, and other employees. But we need to keep this quiet, at least for now, as it gives us the advantage. If they suspect we are onto them, it'll be harder to draw them out."
Harry started a floo call just then to the Burrow, to see if Molly or Arthur had happened to see Hermione. When they hadn't he immediately called Bill and Fleur, then George, Lavender, Percy, and several others of their family and friends. But each one of them seemed not to have any idea where Hermione could be. He knew they were all worried, as they promised to floo over to Grimmauld place immediately, while the two of them waited at Draco's flat, in the chance that she was indeed just running late.
"How are you so calm?" Draco asked, feeling a horrid sense of dread flood through him, as he knew it meant that Hermione was in danger.
Harry started a floo call to Andromeda just then to see if she knew anything.
"Because I need to be," Harry said letting out a sigh, "If she were here, she would be the level-headed one in all of this. But she's not, so someone needs to be. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her, but I need to believe that she will be fine, at least for now while we figure out what to do."
"Harry?" Andromeda's voice came through the floo network, "Is everything alright?"
"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked, with urgency, "No one seems to know where she could be."
He heard his aunt turn away from the floo as she spoke to others in the room in regards to Hermione. There seemed to be a little bit of conversation, because next thing he knew, his Mother came out of the fireplace.
"Draco," Narcissa greeted him softly.
"Mother?" he asked, a bit confused. "Do you know what happened to Hermione?"
"I do not know anything for sure," she said softly, "But I have a bad feeling about something that I know. Your father has been distant since the end of the war, but recently, it seems as if he has been pulling away from me more and more. He's been missing meals, and staying out for hours upon end. I know someone was trying to get in touch with him a while back, about bring back the old ways, because the same offer was made to me. He rejected the offer, for the both of us, and I had been glad of it, for I knew I could never be involved in such matters again, not after it nearly cost me you. But in light of his behaviour, part of me wonders if he rejected the offer because he knew I would not stand for it, and secretly accepted behind my back."
"Why did you not tell me this before?" he asked his mother softly.
"Because I figured it was a test of strengths. No one would be stupid enough to try and bring back what the Dark Lord had wanted. Not after the turmoil it caused us all. So I believed it to be Aurors attempting to find out who were still loyal. I never heard a thing about it afterwards so I assumed I was right."
Harry and Draco shared a look. If someone was indeed trying to bring back the old ways, of Voldemort and the need for blood purity, then it could explain the need for a resurrection spell. How else better to bring the wizarding world back to that era if not to bring back the monster who had terrorized the world?
"Bloody Hell," Draco said softly, before looking sheepishly over at his mother.
She shook her head, "It's fine, Draco. I understand the pain you must be feeling. If your father was being contacted genuinely about bring back the old ways, there is a short list of people who must be involved. Be careful, Draco. And when you find Miss Granger, I would love to meet the woman who stole your heart."
He swallowed softly, feeling unsure of himself. They hadn't caught who was behind this for months now. Would he be able to save Hermione before it was too late?
Hermione stirred as she opened her eyes to see herself tied up. She was in a dark room, with a cauldron in the centre of it, as it appeared to be brewing a potion at the moment, from the green smoke rising out of the top.
She could see two man standing in front of it, and nearly let out a shocked gasp as Lucius stirred the potion delicately, while Rodolphus Lestrange appeared to be inspecting it carefully.
"It is nearly ready," Lucius commented, "Just a few ingredients seem to be missing now. He turned to where Hermione was sitting, and she shut her eyes quickly, attempting to pretend to still be asleep.
"I know you have woken up, Granger," Lucius said, as he sneered at her, "You are not nearly as good as acting as you wish you were. You might as well drop the act now. Besides, you might want to enjoy your last waking moments."
She debated keeping eyes shut, but she was hit with a hex just then, causing her to scream in pain.
"Glad to see you've decided to join us in the land of the waking," Rodolphus leered down at her. "Ugly little thing, isn't she? Not entirely sure what your son sees in the bitch."
"It's not as if it matters," Lucius said dismissively, "She'll be gone soon enough, leaving my son to be with someone worthy of the Malfoy name."
"Like Astoria?" Hermione glared at them. "What, a Mudblood isn't good enough for your son, so you had her kidnapped? How very backwards of you."
"More like a nice side effect," Lucius corrected. "While one of the reasons I chose you was for your unfortunate connections to my son, it is not the only reason you are here. No, you have been chosen to serve your purpose, and bring back a life much worthier than yours. Poetic justice, if you will, to bring back a pureblood who was deserving to live, over a mudblood such as yourself who never should have lived through the war. But we're about to remedy that."
She felt a cold twinge go through her, as she tried to stay calm. The kind of magic they were talking back was theoretical at best, and was very dark. If they intended to use her to bring Voldemort back, then it was more than likely that she wouldn't survive the ordeal. That her life would be given to bring one back.
She took a deep breath, as she attempted to calm herself then. She needed to stay strong, if she believed she had a chance of getting out of here. Her daughter needed her to be alright. Her daughter needed her. And so she needed to stay strong, and wait for an opportune moment to escape.
So she tried to stall. "You know Voldemort is a half-blood right?" she taunted them. "Your pureblood saviour isn't all that pure himself. And after how badly he destroyed his soul, nothing is going to bring him back."
"Who said anything about bring back Voldemort?" Rodolphus frowned, "I thought you said she was clever, Lucius. Why would we want to bring back someone who killed us like we were his servants? We want a world where the purebloods rule, not where we all bow down to a half-blooded monster. Especially one who became obsessed with a teenage boy. He spent more effort trying to destroy a child than saving the world from your filth. We want someone back who has just the right amount of passion about our cause. Who only spills the blood of the unworthy."
She felt her stomach coil, "Don't tell me you're talking about Bellatrix Lestrange," she said, as her left arm began to burn. "Why would you even want that woman back? She was insane, and in love with Voldemort. What makes you think that she won't just try and continue his legacy?"
"Because she was my wife," Rodolphus snarled, "Because I loved her, and she did not deserve to die by that blood traitor's hand. She should be here, fighting for our cause. So you, Potter's mudblood whore, will be the one whose blood is used to restore her to her rightful place. And then we will watch the world burn."