As always - beta is Ann and her help is priceless!
As she also said - we are going to the meat of this story. I hope you will enjoy their journey. :)
Your comments and thoughts are more than welcome!
VII
2000
Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, was just standing in her cramped London studio apartment, trying to calm her breath. She stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. This wasn't how she imagined her life entirely.
The last two months were full of events that changed her life once and for all. And they sealed her fate beyond her control. She tried to calm her shivers, but she was shaking more and more.
Everything that had any value to her was taken from her - her parents, freedom, choice, maybe a career. Was there anything else in the world that the Ministry wanted to take from her?
Hermione started to lose control of herself, felt anger was flooding her body, anger overshadowing her eyes with a red glow. She started screaming, until Crookshanks, scared as ever, ran to the bathroom.
She yelled loudly, screaming out all her emotions. Crying over her sense of overwhelming powerlessness. Her silhouette in the mirror blurred before her eyes, she was still shouting as hard as her lungs allowed her to. She felt her lungs running out of air, and started gagging. And the red glow was replaced by darkness. She grabbed a glass and threw it with all her might in the mirror.
The mirror shattered into thousands of small pieces and scattered all over the room. Hermione fell to her knees and started sobbing. At one point, she bent and laid her forehead on the floor, ignoring the shards.
Lack of air and endless crying made her pass out. She lost consciousness for several long seconds and it was probably the most wonderful time she had experienced in recent memory.
After she was awake, she felt a little scared. Glass was everywhere, and she had pieces embedded in her legs, hands and face. Several of them pierced the skin and blood oozed slowly from cuts.
She looked at her hands, turned them slowly, first the top, then the palms. Tiny drops of blood ran down them, and instead of wiping it away immediately, she clenched her fists. The skin was cut even harder, and a wave of pain seized her.
But it was a strange pain - so beyond her, but only physical. It did not touch her soul.
The Ministry could take everything but her soul.
Hermione chose not to heal her cuts but to leave them as they were. She cleaned the apartment and carefully removed all the shards of glass. She also apologized to Crookshanks who was looking at her with a great deal of distrust.
"I'm sorry," she said towards him and sighed. He didn't even soften, he just stared at her intently. "I said I'm sorry. You don't have to watch me like that. " He didn't even move, and she hid her face in her scarred hands. "I do not even recognize myself."
Some time later she pulled out her trunk and stood in front of it. She was going to live at Malfoy Manor, like a resident. But at the same time she was supposed to be a hostage. Both should have been mutually exclusive.
Hermione knew she would have days off as long as her charge obeyed the rules and made progress. But she might "forget" about them in the coming months and appear at her apartment sporadically and usually at night.
She couldn't imagine what she should take with her. It was not a vacation, after all, and the whole situation was more like an assignment. A sick kind of delegation that went against all that was considered appropriate and exceeded all levels of the absurd.
She opened the wardrobe and threw in all her outer clothes, casual clothes, and underwear. They didn't even fill half the space. Usually, she did not care about her clothes, as she spent most of her time in the Ministry. Now she realized how pathetic her wardrobe looked.
She added cosmetics, some small trinkets and books. The books filled the trunk to the brim.
After a quarter of an hour the trunk was ready, but Hermione stared at it uncertainly. Once again, her entire life had to fit in a trunk.
She closed the lid and sat on it. She ran her hand over the top and she remembered the times of Hogwarts. Carefree times when adulthood was still far away. Crookshanks felt more confident as he jumped and curled up against her hand. She smiled sadly.
"I wonder how you will like Malfoy Manor." Formulating it more as a statement than a question, she stood up and looked at her watch.
The last twenty-four hours of freedom.
Hermione decided to spend her last day of independence alone and do whatever she wanted. She wanted to go and walk around London, to people watch, to breathe. To melt into the crowd and absorb the noise, become part of the rush.
She visited all the places she remembered from her childhood, including one of the best confectioneries. She asked for two scoops of ice cream in a wafer. With ice cream in her hand, she went to the park so familiar to her.
She sat down on the wall where her dad used to sit with her. And she stared into space.
Unknown faces passed her by - runners, ladies with dogs, children who chased each other. Young mothers with prams, business women rushing to work; young handsome men, old ladies. Everyone was in a hurry, in pursuit of their everyday affairs.
So far from her problems and worries. So distant, like they could be from an alien galaxy.
Hermione felt the sticky liquid run down her fingers as her ice cream began to melt. She sighed and licked her fingers. She would like to be in their place - to have a simple, clear goal and run towards it. To only worry about trifles. But she knew it was impossible. This was not the life she chose. She wanted to be part of wizarding society and paid a stiff price for it.
Because magic always comes with a price.
Lucius Malofy exited Azkaban and winced at the dark, overcast sky. Only minutes separated him from the rain.
He looked down at his robes and shrugged his shoulders - he was wearing prison clothes all the time, so the fact that it might have been raining made no difference to him.
He heard a grunt from the side and looked to see who it was.
"Shacklebolt." His greeting was icy in tone. The Minister of Magic appraised him and with a bit of venom in his reply, said, "Mr. Malfoy, I wish I had a little more respect from you."
Malfoy took in Shacklebolt's words with an imperious snort, causing the Minister of Magic to shift uncomfortably and clear his throat awkwardly.
"If wishes were horses, Shacklebolt." He couldn't help but add, "Let's spare the pleasantries. But, in the spirit of politeness - could you please let me know where my other half is? "
Lucius could see the vein in Kingsley's neck pulsate rhythmically and he couldn't help but feel a little smug.
How childish it was to throw him off balance with just two sentences. Small pleasures.
"You mean your Observer, Malfoy?" Kinsgley's harsh tone made Lucius faintly surprised.
"I mean Miss Granger, because that's her name, isn't it?" He clarified, but this time his question was ignored.
A silhouette of Granger appeared on the horizon in the boat and it started to pour at the same time. The woman seemed unprepared for the storm, and by the time she reached them, trickles of water ran down her body like waterfalls.
Shacklebolt didn't move a finger to help her dry off, which was puzzling to Malfoy.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Granger was pale and trembling. She also avoided their eyes. "I overslept."
Kingsley gave a dissatisfied tsk-tsk, but said nothing. He took a bundle of parchments from his briefcase and handed the quill to Malfoy.
"Miss Granger signed hers at the Ministry." Hermione flinched at these words, but the Minister of Magic continued, ignoring her. "The content is the same as what you received from the Observer at her previous visit, Mr. Malfoy." He handed him the papers and grunted expectantly.
The first thunder struck in the distance, and the rain intensified even more.
"Of course." Malfoy's short, cool reply made Kingsley purse his lips into a narrow line. Lucius took the quill and made a sweeping signature. One on the top page and the ones following.
"By the power given to me by the Ministry of Magic, I confirm that you have become The Observee and The Observer in the Former Death Eaters' Resocialization Program known as Shadow Initiative. According to the rules, the Observee is obliged to stay with the Observer all the time in the first couple of months." Shacklebolt took something else out of his briefcase that shocked Hermione. There had been no indication that it would be used here. Admonitors were extreme, but apparently the Ministry wanted to interfere with all spheres of life. "Please expose your ankle, Mr. Malfoy."
Hermione had no warm feelings for Malfoy, but she knew the ankle monitor was a low blow, to humiliate him even more and make it clear that he was still a nobody. Strip his dignity once more and confirm he was indeed still a prisoner. She had noticed between a recent visit and now that his behavior was more like his old self and he didn't look as defeated as he did two years ago. Nevertheless, she doubted whether it was true. He might as well play to defend himself against the Ministry's more sordid tricks.
Another lightning bolt pierced the sky, this time more powerful than the previous one, briefly illuminating their faces. Hermione saw the hatred flit across Malfoy's face in a split second. Apparently, he had not been informed of the manacle, either. Kingsley, on the other hand, hid his satisfaction with difficulty and waited for Malfoy's reaction, expecting a protest. But he didn't get it, because Lucius Malfoy, with a stony expression on his face, lifted the prison robe and exposed his left ankle. His rage showed only in the strength with which he gripped the fabric. Hermione knew that kind of anger well.
Shacklebolt waved his wand and the shackle was placed. He smiled at them and clapped his hands together.
"That's all for the Ministry. I expect a report every Monday, Miss Granger. Good luck."
And he disappeared with a Crack! , leaving the two in the rain beneath Azkaban.
Lucius lowered the cloth and covered his ankle, and Hermione stood beside him, incredulous at what she had witnessed in the last few minutes. Finally, Malfoy broke the silence.
"Are you surprised, Miss Granger?" She looked up and met his eyes for the first time that day. She shook her head vigorously. "That's what I thought." He paused, but he looked at her expectantly, until she was slightly confused. He raised his eyebrows, but no other words came from Hermione's lips. After a dozen or so seconds and another lightning bolt, he spat at her impatiently:
"Are you going to somehow get us to Malfoy Manor?"
Hermione looked at him and said, "Excuse me?"
He replied with a loud snort. "As you can see for yourself, we are in the middle of a storm, and I have been released from prison. I don't have a wand and every spell I cast is communicated to the Minister of Magic immediately. " He gave her time to react, but she just stared at him and blinked. He wasn't quite sure if she could still hear his words.
Hermione had stopped listening to him a long while ago because her fingers tingled. She moved her hand and made a fist, then released her grip. She looked at her and saw a lot of small wounds.
Inhale .
Exhale .
She looked up, but her eyesight was hazy. She could see Malfoy's face through the fog and heard his voice indistinctly.
Inhale .
Lightning struck again nearby and illuminated Malfoy's face. She saw him as she did then .
Exhale .
The taste of blood. Scream.
Inhale .
"Miss Granger." She heard a strong, decisive voice and additionally felt that someone was grabbing her wrist. He squeezed it tight, which made her hiss. She shook herself, realized it was Lucius Malfoy, and tore her hand away.
"What are you doing!" She screamed at him and he sneered.
"For several minutes I have been trying to get you to transport us from Azkaban. In case you can't tell, the weather isn't lovely and I can't cast any spells." His voice was clearly annoyed. "I am dependent on you whether you like it or not." The last sentence passed through his throat with difficulty, because Lucius Malfoy had always been a proud man. And now his life depended on the witch he had called a mudblood.
Hermione gritted her teeth and, for the first time this morning, she pulled out her wand.
"I don't know if I can move us directly to Malfoy Manor. You probably have some protective barriers, " she said proudly and Malfoy reacted by rolling his eyes.
"Draco took care of everything. You are to be treated as a full-fledged inhabitant as long as we are obligated by the Ministry. " He huffed and added, clarifying, "You can use any legal method."
The storm was not kind, because the lightning intensified, a strong wind also rose. Hermione realized that they were both soaked and dripping wet.
"Give me your hand, Mr. Malfoy." She hesitated, but held out her palm. "Please hold it tight."
"Miss Granger, I haven't forgotten how to do it. I just can't initiate it, " he growled, but obediently grabbed her hand. Then he pulled her close to him and, in response to her surprised expression, added impatiently, "I'd rather not split up."
Hermione, upset, took a moment to come to her senses. Eventually they Apparated to Malfoy Manor, where Malfoy immediately released her. Losing her footing, she lost her balance and fell down on the grass on her knees. He hadn't even bothered to help her.
She got up and rubbed her knees, gritting her teeth.
Maybe he was dependent on her, but that didn't mean his character had changed. She didn't believe for a moment that Malfoy had undergone a wonderful transformation and would be cooperative now. She was well aware that he was still the same man who had served Voldemort. And that his gestures are pure courtesy dictated by calculation.
He had to survive, and so would she.
She looked up and smoothed her hair. She walked slowly towards the entrance.
Half a year. Not a moment longer.