CHAPTER 22
September 28th 2001
Hermione Granger stood over the kitchen counter, cleaning the dishes by hand. It was an old habit for her to not use magic to clean, but it often brought her comfort to stay true to her roots. She had just finished having dinner at Ron and Harry's apartment with Ginny and volunteered to wash up before dessert was served. There were sounds of Weasley siblings arguing over a game of exploding snaps in the next room, not daring to go back in there anytime soon. As she put the last plate away, Harry entered the kitchen, rubbing his eye under his glasses with a knuckle.
"Needed to get out of there too, huh?" Hermione giggled at her friend.
"If I stayed any longer, I would've lost a hand in the crossfire." He sighed, leaning the back of his waist against the counter next to her.
Hermione folded the tea towel into threes and placed it on the white bench top, crossing her arms echoing Harry's stature.
"How did you go dealing with The Prophet reports after the weekend?" He asked. "I read a few, and they were pretty hard on both of you."
"I did not care for those silly papers, but you know how Ron gets when he's worked up over everyone's opinion of him. We got into a rather heated argument on Monday night." She replied, looking down at the square tiles on the floor.
"Ron said his coach stuck into him pretty hard, he was probably just taking it out on you. Doubt he'll lose his position on the team though, half of their sponsors come from that tosser."
Hermione nodded slowly, fidgeting by rubbing her shoes together.
"I heard he asked you to make a speech at the wedding." She changed the subject.
"Yeah he did. Take it that was his only job for the whole thing, ask people to do speeches?" Harry nudged her with his elbow.
"Yes." Hermione chuckled. "But I am afraid he is going to ask George as well, that could turn into a total disaster."
"It will definitely be a wedding to remember. A good test run for mine and Ginny's, we'll learn what not to do."
Hermione dropped her smile and lifted her head to look at her friend in the eye. Harry was like a brother to her, always feeling a need to comfort and protect her. This was one of those weeks where she really loved having him so close.
"When do you think you'll propose to Ginny?" She asked with a tilted head. Harry blew out hair through his lips and bent his head back.
"If I could, I would right now. But, I want her to have all the attention she deserves, so I think I'll wait until after you and Ron marry. Plus, I need to mentally prepare myself for having Molly Weasley at my house everyday organising the bloody thing."
"You really love her, don't you?"
"A little too much." He joked. "I'm sure Ron feels the same way about you."
Hermione leant her head against his shoulder. Harry lifted an arm and rested it around her neck, pulling the witch into a side hug.
"Harry… Do you ever doubt if you're doing the right thing?" She asked quietly. "I mean, you lead a war at 17 with no hesitation. How did you know that what you were doing was right?"
He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly before answering.
"As much as I thought I was doing the right thing, sometimes I was wrong." Harry rubbed her arm up and down.
"What do you mean?"
"Cedric Diggory. He died because I thought sharing the Tri-Wizard Cup was the right thing to do, but that only led him to being caught in a trap built for me. Peter Pettigrew got away because I thought that not killing him was for the greater good. We all know that only allowed Voldemort to return. And that's just two."
"I guess you are right." Hermione sighed into his chest, remembering her best friend was not as perfect as he was portrayed to be.
"Why do you ask?" Harry questioned.
"No matter." She lifted herself out of his embrace and stepped to the other side of the counter.
"This is twice now that you have asked me deep questions which indicate something is going on in that head of yours. What are you having doubts about?"
"It is nothing, I promise."
"You may be brilliant, 'Mione. But you are a proper bad liar." He chuckled.
Hermione wondered to herself, why was she having so many doubts? It was like her brain was working on overload, screaming at her that she's making a mistake. But what mistake was it? Was she not supposed to be working at the ministry? Was she not supposed to be getting married in December? Was she not supposed to be getting married at all? It was all too much.
"I guess things are not what I thought they would be." She confessed. "I took a few leaps thinking it was the right thing to do, but now I don't know so much."
"Things are not what you thought they would be, or people aren't?" Harry lifted an eyebrow.
Hermione hated that she was so easily read. It was like she was an open book for all to interpret. She wished she had one of those walls that Malfoy had. Maybe then she could have some mystery in her life.
Before she could answer, Ginny came storming into the kitchen with flushed cheeks.
"Your fiance is a down right wanker!" She yelled, pointing a finger at Hermione before marching over to Harry and banging her head against his chest.
"I take it you lost then."
"He bloody well cheated." Ginny mumbled through his shirt.
"I'm sure he did, hun." Harry sympathised half heartedly.
Hermione took the chance to leave the room while she could, afraid of what their conversation would have led to if Ginny had not interrupted them. She knew what Harry would have told her if she had confessed to doubting Ron. He would have told her that she was simply getting cold feet, that they were meant for each other, two opposites attract one another etc. So there was no point in hearing an answer she had already known.
A few hours later after dessert and casual talk, Hermione returned to her own apartment. Fiance left behind. Although they were no longer verbally fighting, there was still tension between the couple. Ron thought it best to have some time apart for a few days.
Flicking her wand to bring some light into the living room, Hermione decided to go through some mail that had built up on her dining table. She had avoided opening the letters knowing there would be a few howlers from angry pureblood families, disgraced by the injury Ron had inflicted onto Malfoy.
After burning the envelopes that screamed at her for tainting the wizarding world, the witch tore open a letter that had normal parchment inside. Hermione unfolded the paper and read familiar handwriting,
Don't know what I'd do without you.
Confused by the context of the letter, Hermione questioned when Ron would have sent this. It must have been prior to Monday when they argued. Thinking back to the previous letters he had owled her and birthday flowers he had sent, it was very odd of him to do such a gesture. Ron also never mentioned sending them either, and he was always the type to confirm if you loved his gift. In fact, how could Hermione be so sure that the redhead was sending them? There was never a name signed.
Concluding that next time she sees him, she should ask her fiance if he was the anonymous author of her love letters. Hermione pushed the paranoia aside, choosing to believe in the good and called it a night.
September 29th 2001
Draco Malfoy leant on the doorframe of his fathers office within Malfoy Manor with his hands in his pockets. He watched as Harry Potter shuffled through paper and stationary scattered across the black desk, looking for anything that may have looked suspicious. The boy who lived was working with the blond on hours outside of the ministry in order to find where Lucius Malfoy may be hiding, if he truly was still alive. Draco had spent the better half of the week asking around the darker side of the wizarding world if they had heard of any sign of the old man. With nothing but dead ends, he had resorted to teaming up with Potter in order to speed up the process.
"Are you sure that your mum won't be home anytime soon?" The Gryffindor asked, fearful of being caught.
"Mother is out shopping with Pansy Parkinson. Retail therapy is a gentleman's leading distraction mechanism." The Slytherin hissed, confident they will not be caught. "Though it would not kill you to hurry, I do not relish on the idea of spending my entire day with you."
Potter rolled his eyes and returned to the investigation. Draco turned to look at the oil painting on the right side of the wall. It was a portrait of Lucius that was done at the same time as their family picture that hung in the hallway. The bastard had a full head of hair then, barely an indication of a future receding hairline. Draco admired the frame that held the canvas, patterned engravings swirling along the silver coated wood. However, a small slither of white caught his eye.
"Potter. Come over here." He instructed walking over to the painting, his partner dropping what he was looking at and doing the same.
"What would a portrait have to do with anything?" Potter asked, frustrated with their lack of evidence.
"Give me a second, you fuck." Draco spat.
He grabbed the corners of the frame and tugged to see which side would open first. The right leads the way, allowing him to swing the painting open and reveal a hidden tunnel dug into the wall. A large piece of parchment sat at the foot of the entrance, covered lightly in dust.
"No fucking way." Draco gasped, astounded that he never knew about this secret passage. This would have been so handy during the war, when a serial killer lived amongst his family.
"I've seen something like this before." Potter touched the borderline bricks. "This was how we got into Hogwarts from Hogsmead. Dumbledore's brother had a passage that led into the room of requirement."
"I take it this would be how the bastard escaped the night he was attacked." The Slytherin grabbed the folded paper that had directed him to open the portrait.
"Guess so." The Gryffindor agreed.
Draco unfolded the dusty parchment, opening it to uncover a map to where the tunnel ended. It appeared that there were several hidden channels within the Manor, all connecting underground to different locations, this one in particular ending at a small country house a little ways down the road.
"Did you know these existed?" Potter asked.
"No." Draco frowned, angry that after all the paperwork after his father's death, not a single person had cared to inform him that there was more to the manor. Not even his mother.
The Slytherin shut the map, and transfigured it into a small book that would fit into his pockets before climbing up the couch to step into the tunnel.
"Wait a minute. How can you trust there isn't a trap at the end?" The Gryffindor rushed.
"What happened to the Potter that never hesitated before going after the bad guy?"
Potter exhaled and hung his head low.
"He got corrupted by the ministry. If we die, Ginny is going to kill you." He groaned, following Draco's footsteps and mounting the couch.
The two wizards lit their wands, and began walking down the dark cemented hall. Luckily, there was enough room for them to walk side by side. The smell of water and mould was disgustingly strong while the click of their heels echoed, bouncing off the walls.
"Any idea how long this tunnel goes for?" Potter asked.
"A few miles." Draco informed.
They trekked cautiously in silence for a few minutes, until the Gryffindor broke it.
"I saw the Prophet on Monday. Apparently you and Astoria are rumoured to be wed in the springtime." He teased, probably knowing it was an easy target.
"You shouldn't always read what those reporters are saying, Potter. They continue to depict you as a heroic leader who can do no wrong, so you know it is all bollocks." Draco threw it right back.
"How long have you been seeing each other?"
"Why do you Gryffindors always find the need to know about my private life? There is a reason why I chose not to associate myself with you, you know?"
Draco was getting really sick of having to explain himself all the time. Doing it with Granger was one thing, but Dear Merlin was that not enough? He wished he could take those bricks back he had torn down from his wall and hide in a dark isolated room for the rest of his life. Maybe then he would finally know what peace felt like.
"You know, I always thought you fancied Hermione when we were in school." Potter laughed. Draco stopped in his tracks immediately.
"Why the fuck would you think that?" He barked.
"Well, you did tease her an excessive amount. Anyone with a brain would have assumed it was because you felt guilty for having feelings for a muggle-born. Reflecting your own pain onto her kind of thing."
The Slytherin's body heat began to rise. Did everyone think this? He didn't actually know whether he had liked Granger during their years at Hogwarts, but he was definitely ashamed of how he felt towards her now. He had to play it cool to throw off any suspicion.
"If it was simply put down to how I teased her, then that would mean I would have loved you and Weasel-bee as well. You all pissed me off an equal amount, get over yourself."
Potter grinned while Draco angrily strutted past him and continued to make way down the hall. He was starting to question how he managed to get himself into a stage in life where he was surrounded by idiots like Potter and Weasley outside of the walls of Hogwarts. Was this all really worth it for a girl he would never be able to have?
A mile or two down the tunnel, Draco spotted a brim of light shining through the darkness. They must have reached the end of the passage. Both wizards raised their wands, ready in case something or someone dangerous was behind the other side of the door.
The Gryffindor took the lead by kicking the gateway open, brave enough to be the first to get killed if Lucius was here. The Slytherin protected himself and waited for the all clear on Potter's end before stepping into the room. On a hand signal of safety, Draco jumped out of the second painting and landed on old wood decking.
They appeared to be in an old open planned cottage, dust particles flying after his heavy footed arrival. There were two windows at either side of the house, both boarded up with plywood nailed to the wall; glimmers of sunshine peeking through the cracks. Around the room lay furniture that was no older than ten years old, couches with unstained material, coffee tables decorated in candles, and a large black box that had a glass screen sitting on a small cabinet.
"Do you know what that is?" Draco pointed towards the black box.
Potter turned around from looking through the barricaded windows and inspected the unknown item. The Gryffindor laughed, pressing a button causing the glass screen to display moving coloured pictures.
"This is a television." He explained. "It's a muggle thing."
Draco frowned, watching the screen. There appeared to be two men in a store dancing on giant piano keys in the ground, each step causing the key to light up as a crowd watched.
"What are they doing?"
"I think it's a movie. Sort of like a photograph but it's a film of a story you would read in a book."
Potter pressed the same button on the box causing the pictures to flash to black. Moving on from their discovery, both wizards continued to examine the remainder of the house. In the corner was a large bed with tall framings around it and a grey coverlet that was tucked in neatly. A small kitchen was in perfect condition near the front door, a single mug left clean in the sink.
"Someone must have been living here." Draco held the cup up to show Potter. "Or at least hiding out until a better place came along."
"It wouldn't surprise me if this is where Lucius came after he was attacked. Would be ideal to keep an eye on the Manor but also not existing."
"Ideal, yes. And yet, I doubt that my father would have indulged in any muggle decor. Men have been paid high amounts of money to kill me for wanting to work with a muggle-born. Lucius would have slit his own throat before lowering himself to their level." Draco scoffed, putting the cup back in a cupboard.
"I didn't know being friends with Hermione was what made your dad hate you so much." Potter sympathised.
"It was the cherry on top of a foundation of wrong doings."
"But you didn't give her up in order to fix things. She must mean a lot to you then."
"Do not make something out of nothing, Potter." Draco threatened, scowling at the Gryffindor for starting assumptions that he shouldn't.
The Slytherin sauntered back into the living room, scanning every item in the room for a single clue. Nothing was standing out, but the blanket that hung over the couch looked awfully similar to how the ones at the manor were folded. It was a preference of Lucius' to have them creased into a triangle rather than a square. This was their first indication that the old man had stayed here.
"Well, at least we know that this is here." Potter exhaled, cleaning his glasses with the corner of his shirt. "Maybe you can try and figure out where those other tunnels go and we can find a lead to take us where Lucius is now."
"Maybe." Draco breathed.
The two climbed back behind the painting of a country road and began making their way to the Manor. This time Draco walked ahead of Potter, not wanting to provoke his partner in feeling the need to make small talk. It didn't work.
"Can I tell you something, Malfoy?" The Gryffindor asked.
"If you are going to confess your undying love for me, I am going to have to politely decline." The Slytherin groaned, fastening his steps to get to the end of the tunnel quicker.
"You are the only person I trust not to share this with anyone, cause you hate talking to people I know. But I can't keep this to myself anymore."
"For fucks sake, Potter. Just spit it out."
"Ginny is pregnant."
Draco halted, spinning around with his lit up wand, accidentally pointing it into the other's face. Potter awaited his reaction.
"How far along?" Was all he could come up with.
"3 months."
Draco squinted his eyes, unsure of what kind of response Potter was wanting. He assumed that it was not an unwanted pregnancy from the stupid grin on the idiot's face, but that didn't mean that he was supposed to act happy like they were friends.
"Congratulations." He grumbled, turning on his heel to keep walking.
"We're gonna wait until Hermione and Ron get married to tell everyone, so you should probably keep that to yourself." Potter rushed, clearly regretting his admission.
"I can assure you that I work very hard to not talk about you on a daily basis. Your spawn secret will stay a spawn secret."
"Thank you..."
It felt very odd for the pair to be having a civil conversation that did not end up in a wand fight. If someone had told Draco in Hogwarts that he would be the first to know of the famous Harry Potter's child bearing future, he would have cried with laughter. Funny how much a single witch can impact a rivalry between generations of wizards.
Draco was doomed.