"Dying is a Delicate Moment"
A fanfic by Agara
"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."
And he kills her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : VOYOUS
Song : Voyous by Fauve
26.11.1943 :
"What about pictures ?" Isodor suggested. "Everyone has dirty secrets and each politician has at least unveiled one with a camera rolling not far."
"Right, Lestrange ?" Tom intervened from the end of the table. He had the smallest smirk on his lips. Edgard didn't bother retorting and simply slouched further down his chair.
"Not pictures again." Antonin growled. "If Grace is in charge of it, she'll take six months again."
Hermione knew this blow was coming, from the moment the word "pictures" blurted out of Isodor's mouth. She simply counted to ten in her head and exhaled to calm herself. The clock on the chimney rang three in the afternoon, reminding all of them of their potion class with Slughorn.
Hermione cleared her throat and simply declared. "How about you let me handle it ? I am the one in contact with Oswald, I am the one who's been asked to take care of him." A silence followed her declaration and the seven lads turned around to face Tom, patiently waiting for him to say something. The latter simply got up and said. "Well, you have heard her." The lads first left the room to go to the dungeons. Tom waited for her by the door as she gathered her belongings. As usual, when she walked passed him to leave the room he put his hand on her lower back and followed her outside.
They quickly joined the lads. Isodor was already whining about not understanding the assignment they had to do for today's potion class. Hermione just nodded and sometimes hummed to feign being interested.
"Kiddo !" The loud voice of Pollux made her head snap up and a large grin bloomed on her face. He was walking towards her, Cole by his side. "Where were you ? We've been looking for you. McNair told us you had a free period." He said when he arrived at her level. Hermione glanced at Cole and saw the shy smile he had while looking at her. She replied with one of her own.
"I was working on some assignments." She replied, the lie easy on the lips. Pollux rolled his eyes and put an arm around her shoulders to walk her down to the dungeons.
"You're a lucky gal kiddo, did you know that ?" Parkinson smugly said. "Besides having me as a friend, which I bet you thank Merlin everyday for, today's is a lucky day for you."
"What is he on about ?" Hermione directly asked Cole, not even bothering to understand Pollux anymore.
"I tune him off most of the time Grace, you can't expect me to listen to him when it's not directed right at me." Woodcroft rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh.
"I would have imagined him taller though. And much older." Pollux continued talking. Hermione saw, from afar, the potion room and finally decided on asking Pollux what the hell he was talking about. "Use clear words Pollux."
"Wait, you don't know ?" They stopped in front of the room and Pollux's grin became even wicker. "Enjoy then." He gently pushed her inside before asking her to meet with them after.
The class was usually arranged with cauldrons and ingredients for the students to start brewing immediately. However, today was different. First, the desks were bare and well organized around the room. Second, her individual desk at the front of the room was not longer there but replaced by a large blackboard. Hermione looked around the room and noticed Belone waving. She approached and sat down next to her friend. Slughorn walked into the room and Hermione caught a glimpse of two men standing by the door. One she recognized being Albus Dumbledore from his profile and the other one not being able to identify as he had his back turned to her. Her transfiguration teacher briefly scanned the room and his piercing blue eyes lingered slightly longer on her. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken in her ribcage. She suddenly had a bad feeling about what was going to happen. She looked around her and saw no one sharing her distress, only whispering as usual.
"Welcome everyone !" Slughorn smiled. "Please take a seat." He waited for the students' chatter to die down before continuing. "Today we have the honour to have one of the most brilliant wizards of our time with us today. Nicolas Flamel-"
The world stopped.
No.
Hermione felt light headed and her heartbeat became frantic.
"...five years secluded from the world for his famous researches on-"
No, no, no, no.
She wondered if she was about to throw up or faint first. She was completely fucked. So fucked. Her eyes went back and forth between all the possible escapes. The front door : not possible. The back door : maybe if she ran fast enough and cast the spells quickly enough. She could maybe stunt Slughorn quite easily if he kept talking but she couldn't handle Dumbledore. An invisible spell on herself maybe ?
No, too easy to counter-spell.
"Nicolas Flamel is here to tell you a bit more about Alchemy. You can ask him any que-"
Nicolas Flamel, a close friend to the Hortense family, is going to call you out.
You've survived Riddle so far.
You've survived Dumbledore so far.
But you're done Hermione.
Her eyes were stinging from the tears that were about to fall down her cheeks. She put her right hand just above her holster, ready to use it.
One year, it was a good run, one year.
You've done good Hermione. You've tried hard.
She was shaking and sweating from the stress.
You've done your best Hermione. You've not let anyone down.
She repeated the plan in her head - if casting spells and running away for dear life could be considered a plan. She almost got up twice, her legs twitching underneath the table. She wiped off the sweat from her forehead with a shaky hand and told herself that she would do it. Get up and run, that is.
You could go to Abe's.
He knows everything. He'll help you, right ?
Hermione had no choice but to quickly stand up as Dumbledore and Flamel entered the room. Everyone looked at her, as she stood straight, her entire body shaking and her eyes glassy from the tears. In half a second, her plan fell apart. She couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. Flamel slowly approached her, looking right into her eyes. He stopped four feet away and they just stared.
Everything stilled. Hermione held her breath. She kept her gaze on him. And she waited. A first tear rolled down her cheeks, then a second and a third. Silently escaping her eyes without letting any sound out.
"Grace," He smiled. "I have heard about your parents, I am deeply sorry." He said. Hermione didn't understand what just happened. Flamel closed the distance and took her in his arms. She was still frozen on the spot, the tears still silently rolling down her cheeks. The stress slowly rolled off of her.
OoOoOo
Hermione didn't know how many minutes passed since Flamel began holding her, but she suddenly felt the warmth of his embrace fading away. He had simply put his hands on her shoulders and was looking into her teary eyes.
She was sitting on a leather chair, her legs frantically jumping. She had stood up and sat back down almost a hundred times by now. Slughorn had brought her to his office while the other remained in class. She knew Nicolas Flamel would come sooner or later.
He thought you were Grace.
What if he doesn't remember her ?
After all, he's been secluded for five years.
She quickly nodded her head, responding to her own thoughts. She didn't have to answer any question he might ask. She could feign being tired or too emotional to speak.
You can definitely do that.
You cried back there. They must have all thought you were emotional.
That's good, right ?
She quickly looked at the door. Maybe she could still escape. It wasn't too late, was it ? No one was around, no one would see her run away. She could go to Hogsmeade and apparate somewhere. Hermione stood up once again, determined to leave this room and the lies she had been creating for more than a year when the door to Slughorn's office opened and Nicolas Flamel stepped in.
He was alone. He closed the door and stood straight. There was a minute of silence, of only him looking at her and Hermione silently dying from fear. The silence was becoming heavier by the second and she felt the need to talk, to lie, to let something out.
"Je m'excuse-" She started with a quivering voice.
"You and I both know you are not Grace. Let's not waste time pretending, shall we Hermione ?" He cut her off while casting what she believed to be a silencio.
Hermione audibly gulped. She was suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time. Her eyes flickered between Flamel and the wooden door behind him. Usually, Hermione was no coward. She had not the habit of running away from her problems, hoping for them to be magically resolved. But maybe this was the time to change that. She was utterly fucked and she had never felt so scared. Nicolas Flamel didn't only know she was not Grace but knew who she truly was. She couldn't lie her way out of here.
"How ?" She whispered, too shaken up to speak up properly. He put his wand by his head and slightly patted his temple.
Hermione directly understood what he meant. He had got inside her head, and for once she had not felt it. She had not had a headache nor felt like someone was intruding her mind. Nothing happened and she wondered how. She had shown Tom that she was in complete control of what anyone could see inside her head yet, Nicolas Flamel just proved her wrong. He had seen everything, he had surely understood the majority of what happened to her.
"Why ?" She asked.
"Why did I call you Grace back there ?" He cocked his head with a small smile. She nodded, afraid of the answer. "I believe you are just a lost girl trying to find her way back. There is nothing wrong with wanting to go home."
"You've seen what I've done. What I've done to Grace." Hermione replied in a small voice. "How can you say there is nothing wrong ?"
"Yes, I have seen." Nicolas replied in a soft voice. He slowly walked towards a chair and sat down with small difficulty. He gently patted the chair next to his for Hermione to sit down with him. She complied. "And I have seen some good. You have taken care of her parents' funeral. You have taken care of Dahlia until her last breath, you have-"
"And what about him ?" She cut him off. "Are you going to tell me I'm doing the right thing too ? It's as if I've opened the Chamber of Secret myself and killed Myrtle Warren. I've given him everything for him to succeed. And I'm still doing it." Hermione stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace. "I'm literally in his ranks, I know everything he is about to do and I am helping him do so. I'm helping him ruin my entire life ! " Anger was rising in her guts so she stopped talking, to calm herself down.
"I know what you must be thinking. I chose it, right ? I could have just avoided him and tried to find my way back home another way. But I had no choice. I've done the maths, it was the only way." Flamel was patiently listening to her, his eyes were kind and not judgmental, so Hermione kept going. The words were freely coming out of her mouth and it almost felt good to speak out loud about all of that. Almost. "I could have gone to Dumbledore. You know, I thought about it after the Chamber of Secrets. When I realised that my only way back home was nonexistent. I really thought about it."
"Yet, you didn't. Why ?" Hermione had not expected Flamel to ask that. She faced him and stayed silent for a while, in order to gather her thoughts. She briefly wondered about the extent of what Flamel had seen earlier.
"He sent us on a quest that made no sense, with no clue on how to proceed, with no explanation." She said. "He let us deal with everything on our own since we were only kids. We risked our lives everyday and for what ? We don't even know ! And now ? Now I'm alone, stranded in an era I don't belong in, playing politics I shouldn't be involved in, yet I should go talk to the person who's done nothing to help in the future ? How could I trust someone who fooled me for years ?" She almost spat.
"I hear you, Hermione." He replied in a calm voice. "I understand your anger from what I have briefly seen in your mind, the despair, the loneliness, the fear you have felt during those times. However, don't you think your anger is fuelled by the fact that the last thing you have heard in your own time was that Albus had fooled your best friend ?"
"It has nothing to do with that." Hermione tried to sound convincing but it fell flat. It had everything to do with that, she was simply in denial. She didn't want to talk further about that so she changed the subject. "Why are you really here ?"
"You are smart enough to understand that my real purpose today was not to talk to students about alchemy, right ?" Hermione nodded her head. "Apparently, something didn't add up."
This is what Dumbledore had told you about your behaviour.
"He has seen something in my mind." Hermione said. "I don't know what, but this is why you are here today. He called you to check." Flamel didn't answer and Hermione knew she was right. "What has he seen for you to be called ?"
"My philosopher's stone." He replied honestly.
"I've never seen it." Hermione frowned because she couldn't understand.
"You have never held it ?" Flamel seemed as lost as she was at this moment.
"No, never. I-" Hermione stopped and thought about it. "Harry was the only one who's ever seen it and touched it. He-" She finally understood. "It was his memory. Professor Dumbledore saw Harry's memory."
She remembered that day. It was the middle of fifth-year, Harry had been struggling with keeping his mind closed. He had stormed into the Gryffindor common room one evening, after another session with Snape. Harry had sat down next to her and complained about the fact that he would never succeed. Hermione, at the time, had got interested in occlumency and she had offered Harry her help. They had gone to his dorms, Ron eating on his bed, and Hermione facing Harry, her wand at the ready.
She had not stayed inside his head for a long time, she was not particularly gifted in legilimency. But she has seen some things. She had seen herself and Ron during their first train ride to Hogwarts. She had seen the first time Harry flew on a broom. And she had seen him looking directly at the philosopher's stone in his hand.
"In the six hundred years I have lived, I have never seen anything like that. Une voyageuse du temps."
Time traveler.
Yes, that is what you are.
Hermione trusted him, she wasn't sure why but she did. He was reassuring and understanding. He had not judged her, he had tried to understand. He was currently softly looking at her, a display of honesty and fondness in his eyes.
"Why have you stopped ?" He asked her.
"Stopped what ?"
"Stopped trying to go home ?"
"I- uh- I haven't." Hermione stuttered.
"Yes, you have. You were stalling time in the beginning when you didn't find the painting. But you are not anymore, you are only wasting your time. Why have you stopped trying to find it ?"
Hermione felt like crying again because Flamel had just said out loud what she had been trying to deny for months.
"I've read millions of books," she answered in a shay voice, "all the studies about time travel, and I haven't found anything. I'm stuck here, I'm finally realising it." Hermione felt the tears glistening in her eyes. She was, once again, confronted with the fact that she had no way of going back. She pulled at her hair and turned away from him. She focused on her breathing and on not panicking. "There is no painting, there never was ! It doesn't exist !
"Yet."
Hermione spun around and stared at Flamel. He had a small smile on his lips and she suddenly felt hope bloom back inside of her. It was warm and welcoming.
"There are different ways to solve a problem. You have only taken one possibility into consideration, that the painting was already existing in this era. For all we know, it might not be the case." Flamel finally slowly stood up. Hermione approached him. Together, they went by the door. Flamel put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You ought to explore every possibility there might be." Hermione let the words sink in. "I may have some reading recommendations for you. I understood that you have a close relationship with another Dumbledore in Hogsmeade. I will make sure to send him the books I think to be useful." He offered and Hermione nodded eagerly.
"What will you tell Professor Dumbledore ?" Hermione asked.
"Your story is not mine to tell." He explained. She smiled. "I could maybe slip that Grace may have seen my stone back when she went to visit me with her parents a couple a years ago, what do you think ?"
Hermione simply smiled.
26.11.1943 :
Since the potion lesson, Tom had not seen Grace. She had not shown up in Charms later that afternoon, neither at dinner. Apparently, Thorus had briefly met with her. He currently was telling the lads what she said.
"She told me it was emotional seeing him after all this time." Nott explained, cross-sitting on his bed. "They talked about some common memories and stuff."
"It was weird seeing her like that." Edgard chipped in. "I've never seen her cry before."
The lads kept talking about the subject while Tom deliberately didn't speak up. He didn't quite know what he was thinking about what he had seen this afternoon. He had never seen her that way, distraught, almost scared. It was out of character for her. So he simply looked around the room, his eyes landing on each lad.
Milton was writing his transfiguration on the floor. He was looking quite concentrated on what Tom knew would be one of the worst essays in the class. Edmund was debating with Edgard about what Grace and Nicolas Flamel must have talked about, the two boys sitting on the same bed. Antonin couldn't have looked more bored than he actually was, he had not raised his eyes from his book since this conversation started. However, if Tom paid enough attention, he could notice Dolohov's eyes flickering from his book to the two Quidditch players. Obviously listening to what they were saying. Isodor was focused on the book Tom had lent him earlier in the week, silently rehearsing a spell and the wand movement.
Finally, Tom's gaze fell on Abraxas. He was sitting on the windowsill, the darkness of the black lake behind his back. He had one leg dangling and the other one bent towards his chest. He had a letter on his knee and he was reading it, a small frown between his eyebrows. He also had an unlit cigarette between his lips, one he was planning to sneak outside to smoke later. Then, the blond Slytherin met his gaze. He jumped off the window and walked towards him.
"It's set in motion. We cannot back down now." He said to Tom, in gritted teeth, while handing him the letter. Tom took it with a little satisfying smirk.
01.12.1943 :
Hermione had been quite surprised that Tom had not tried to find out what happened with Flamel. He had not broached the subject once. She quickly looked at him, across from her at the breakfast table. He was talking with Thorus about something Astronomy related. The usual sound of the owls made them stop the conversation and look up to the ceiling. Hermione noticed Kaulitz flying her way and dropping a small envelope near her plate. She didn't recognize the writing, so she carefully opened it, making sure no one could read above her shoulder.
The first sentence of the letter informed her that it was from Nicolas Flamel and that he had sent two books for her to pick up at Abe's. She quickly folded the letter and put it in her pocket.
Pollux, not far from where she was sitting, had a weird look on his face. His eyes were rapidly skimming through the content of his letter and he suddenly turned his head to look at his younger brother. Cassandre was casually chatting with some fifth-year Slytherin a few meters down the table. Pollux rose and put his tie back correctly. Hermione frowned at the sight, on top of being properly dressed he had this stoic look on his face. He looked more mature than ever. Cole, who had been reading Pollux's letter over his shoulder, was the opposite of his friend at this moment. He was looking frantic, glancing from time to time to Cassandre.
Pollux was about to walk towards his brother when Cole stopped him by the arm and loudly whispered to him not to do that now.
What is going on ?
What is happening ?
No one seemed to have noticed, everyone was still eating and talking. Pollux shrugged Cole's off and went by Cassandre's side. He dropped the letter on his brother's lap. While the youngest Parkinson was reading, Pollux was looking right at him. Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from him, she still couldn't believe she was looking at her friend, he seemed so off. Then, she lowered her gaze towards his brother. Cassandre's eyes slowly widened and his grip tightened on the thin paper only to rip it in half and stood to face Pollux. The two brothers were gradually drawing attention to them. The lads around Hermione had all stopped talking by now and were looking at them.
"Tell me this is a joke." Cassandre called out to his brother, shoving the pieces of paper in the other's chest. Pollux didn't bother grabbing them and let them float towards the ground.
"You're well aware we don't joke about this kind of subject." Pollux replied. Hermione felt a shiver down her spine at the stone-cold and emotionless tone Pollux just used.
"Why are you the one receiving it ?" Cassandre kept his voice dangerously low. "Why are you the one receiving my official betrothal ?"
Pollux's jaw was tensing and his eyes became even darker. "You had your say in this, didn't you ?" Cassandre's eyes betrayed every emotion he felt. It was raw and broken. Pollux stayed silent. "How long have you been planning this behind my back ?" Cassandre was slowly raising his voice as the Great Hall became quieter. "Answer me !" He finally shouted.
The silence following the shouting was deafening. No one dared talk. No one dared move. They were all mesmerized by what was happening before their eyes. Hermione included. Pollux's lack of an answer was enough for Cassandre to understand perfectly that he had indeed a say in whatever this was.
"Don't make a scene Cassandre." Pollux growled. "You're a Parkinson for fuck sakes, act like it."
"When ?" Cassandre didn't lower his voice. "Since when have you all been planning this ?"
"Two years." Pollux answered, his voice firm.
"Two years ?" Cassandre repeated flabbergasted. "Was she even considered ?"
Hermione's eyes snapped towards Walburga. She was looking right at Pollux, seemingly as interested in his answer as Cassandre was.
"This is not the issue." Pollux said. "You'll marry Rowle. You've read Father's letter, you've seen the official signature at the bottom. It's done Cassandre."
"Why haven't you fought for me ?" Cassandre implored his brother. "Why haven't you stood up to father for once ? Wh-"
"Stop Cassandre." Pollux snapped.
"Why can't you do something for me ?"
"I said stop." Pollux patience obviously wearing thin.
"I don-"
"I took the decision !" Pollux yelled, not breaking the emotionless character he was in.
Cassandre took a step back and gripped the table behind him. Hermione slowly felt her heart breaking as she watched Cassandre's face fading from anger to devastated. His eyes were still stuck on his brother, bearing all the pain he was currently feeling. Cassandre opened his mouth, surely to snap back, but nothing came out. He had been left speechless. Hermione had never been fond of Cassandre, yet at this moment she had the yearning of protecting him. She quickly went back to Pollux, she felt as if seeing him for the first time. Not the quirky friend she used to see, but the cold, haughty heir to the Parkinson family.
"She wasn't right for us." Pollux kept going. "We would have gained nothing from this alliance."
"Did you receive a formal proposal from the Blacks ?" Cassandre's voice was barely there, if Hermione was not sitting a few feet away she would have not heard.
"The Rowles share our vision. We, the Parkinson, will thrive from this alliance."
"Answer me, Pollux."
"It wouldn't have been the right alliance for us."
"It's not an alliance Pollux, it's my fucking wedding, my life !" Cassandre went back to yelling.
"It's not against you Cassandre, it's only politics."
OoOoOo
01.01.12 :
Hermione just finished two hours of theoretical DADA. She was walking down the corridors with the lads towards their next class. After this morning's drama, both Parkison had stormed off the Great Hall and Pollux had not been seen since. Cole had also been looking for him all morning. The corridors were quite busy on this December morning, she was zigzagging among the crowd of students while talking to Edgard. They all turned into an empty corridor and the chatter from the children slowly faded away. Then, she caught a glimpse of him. He was slowly walking, one hand pressed against the wall to help with his swaying.
"Pollux." She called him. He rose his head, his eyes were bleary and red. He seemed to struggle to recognize who she was. When he finally did, he turned around.
Hermione went towards him when Tom grabbed her by the wrist.
"Don't." He said to her. "He is clearly wasted. Nothing good will come out of this."
"He's my friend, Tom."
She stopped a young Slytherin passing by and asked him to go rapidly fetch Cole. The lads stopped altogether and watched from afar as Hermione approached the oldest Parkinson.
"Hey Pollux." She used the softest voice when addressing her friend. "Let's get something to eat down in the kitchen." She went to put her arm under his waist to help him walk but he simply shoved her away. Hermione saw from the corner of her eyes Tom taking a step towards but being stopped by Antonin to approach even more.
Hermione swallowed and tried again. "Pollux, come on. Cole will arrive soon. Everything's going to be alright." Pollux was still not looking at her nor talking. He reeked of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. "We can go to Abe's." Hermione suggested. "He's always happy to see us, and it's been a while." She tried to laugh to bring a small smile to Pollux' face. She approached once more and put a reassuring hand in his shoulder.
"Fuck off !" He drunkenly shouted. "Get lost !" He pushed her away.
Hermione was lost at words, he had never pushed her away, he had never been physical with her. She noticed the students walking particularly slow at the end of the corridor, almost stopping to look at the scene. Hermione quickly looked back and saw the lads staying not far.
"Pollux," she whispered "stop. You're making a scene and I know you don't want to make a scene."
"P-Piss off Grace." Pollux stopped and stood straighter. He looked around him and noticed the lads staring at him. "Haven't you seen enough this morning?" He yelled at the eight faces staring at him. He then looked at her. He was looking down on her, a sneer slowly growing on his face. He must have seen the shock in her eyes, the rejection. "Stop l-looking at me that way. Have you heard n-nothing ?"
"It doesn't matter Pollux." She tried to calm him down. "I'm your friend and am telling you it's going to be alright."
"Don't you understand ?" He spat. Hermione felt something pooling in her guts, something bad. Pollux had something in his eyes like he was about to latch out. "How must I say it so you might understand !" He kept going, swaying on his feet. Hermione ran at his side to keep him standing when he ducked her embrace. "Listen you fuckhead : I'm not a nice person, I'm not a beautiful person. I'm a dirty beast, a gas bottle in a chimney. And I will end up blowing at your face if you come too close, j-just like the others !"
Hermione didn't know what to do, she felt the despair in Pollux's head. "It's the alcohol talking. You're upset about what happened this morning, I understand. You always bounce back Pollux. You can mend things with Cassa-"
"But you don't know what you are saying. I tried to, it never worked !" Pollux was obviously struggling to get the words out of his mouth. He was slurring and trying to stand up straight.
"You all want me to change. But I won't." He kept going. "And even if I did, there is no second chance. There are no clean slates. Don't act like you haven't seen it, have you not noticed?"
Hermione was not sure what point he was trying to make.
"It's plastered all over : on every newspaper where people can see it ! On people's faces ! It is even written in bold letters on the sides of buildings at night when good people like you are asleep." Pollux spat the last sentence. "It-it's marked red : you were born like that, you live like that, and you die like that. Your naked reflection is the only thing that can disgust you, your guilt and despair for only witnesses."
"What are you talking about Pollux ?" Hermione tried to understand. "You're making no sense. Let's continue this conversation somewhere more private."
"Believe me, you don't want me to continue !" He sadly snorted. "B-because at best, it'll prevent you from sleeping and at worst, it'll make you want to spit at my face." He briefly stopped and looked at her. His eyes slowly turned sad. "Before I once again transform myself, run away from me Grace."
She quickly looked behind her towards the lads and saw the same incomprehension on their faces. Pollux's train of thoughts, surely clear to him, made very little sense to anyone sober. She turned her head to look at him. Hermione had never heard someone this broken, this ashamed of himself before. She took a small step back, taken aback. Suddenly, Tom arrived by her side.
"Quit it Parkinson." Tom ordered. "You are getting back to the common room, you will drink water and sleep off. If you keep screaming that way, teachers are going to turn up. "
"Ow ! I'm sorry, do you want me to lower my voice ?" Pollux mocked the prefect. "Am I bothering you ? Fuck you then. If I'm bothering you, either get lost or shut your fucking mouth !"
Hermione felt Tom's anger rolling off of him. She put herself in between the two to avoid any physical confrontation. Tom's jaw was clenched and he was internally fuming. At the sight, Pollux simply laughed. "What ? Does it bother you to being talked to that way in front of everyone ? Yeah, it sucks ! I understand mate."
Hermione faced Tom and put a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. She slowly shook her head no, almost pleading him not to do anything. She then spun around. "You're going too far, Pollux. You're ridiculizing yourself, you're transmitting your problems to everyone."
"Easy for you to say. You, who don't have any problems." He scoffed. Hermione almost laughed out of spite. "You were raised well as it should, you're strong, you're consistent, you don't make people uncomfortable in hallways ! You sleep well, words don't bother you. You are a good French, you're beautiful, and you're healthy. Just like a fashion magazine, or a model home. These things don't happen to you, do they ? You can't understand me."
If the prior silence was heavy, the one following this monologue was even worse. She swallowed and closed her eyes to prevent the tears from forming in her eyes. She tried to find sense in everything, he was not believing the words, right ? He was only wasted.
"You don't know what you're saying." She said, her voice slightly quivering. "You're just mad because of what happened with Cassandre. You're just latching out. But you need to calm down Pollux."
Pollux shook his head no like a small child when he heard the name Cassandre. He took steps back until his back collided with the wall. Hermione wanted to get closer but Tom took her wrist to stop her from approaching.
"No, I won't calm down !" Pollux finally said. "I won't calm down !" He repeated, his voice a little louder. "He doesn't know what it is to be a beggar. To be lousy, to be filthy, to be a fucking puppet for our own father ! To be the land where moral and duty collides. He doesn't know what it is !"
Pollux then looked at his hand as if they were bloodied from a horrifying murder. His anger faded away to completely disappear. He was simply pathetic, heartbroken, and silently sobbing. He rose his chin and Hermione caught a glimpse of his teary eyes and couldn't help but feel the hopelessness. The tears finally rolled down her cheeks at the scene.
"I don't understand, I haven't robbed anybody, killed anybody. But I am still an arshole, that's this simple." Pollux's voice was hoarse from the yelling and broken from the sobs. "I've done things I regret, enough to think about them all the time. I could give you a million reasons, Grace, for him to hate me, break my knees, and ridicule me. And if one day Cassandre comes for me, I won't resist. I'll place my hands on my head and follow without haste. But before that happens, I want him to know that I understand." Pollux stumbled onto the floor, his eyes stuck on the ground.
Hermione shook her hand for Tom to let her go and crouched down in front of him. She gently put her hand on his shoulders.
"Just come with me." She tenderly murmured.
"No, no. Leave me alone, please." Pollux had closed his eyes now and had let his head rest on the wall behind him. He was talking extremely slowly. "I don't want to go, I don't want to move, I don't want to sleep."
"Talk to me then, what do you need ?"
"I don't want to talk today. Today, I just want to scream. I want to open the gates, you know ? To let everything out ! I want to scream my fear of abandonment, and my frantic search for attention, my need for recognition, like a dog ! My desperate attempt to be a man that I'm not and that I probably never will be ! Scream at my lack of courage, my cruelty, my stupid optimism, my dangerous overdoing of things! My thoughts, my tantrums! Scream out my fear of others, my petty deviousness, my regrets, my mistakes, my neuroses. My obsessions, my meta-obsessions".
Then, whispering to himself, he added. "My fear of pain, loss, suicide, and depression." At the words, Hermione's eyes widened and she went to hold him. Tighter than the night she offered him the watch. Tighter than she had ever held someone.
"How can you think you care about me even when I myself don't want me ?" Pollux murmured in her ears. "Why do you say you love me even when I myself hate me ?"
Hermione heard footsteps and looked towards the end of the corridor to see Cole arriving. As he approached, he slowed down his pace until he stopped a few meters away. The sight must have been almost biblical : Pollux on the floor, sobbing and holding Hermione for dear life. Then her, tears fresh on her cheeks as she held a firm embrace. Then, the lads. The eight of them silently witnessing the pathetic life that was Pollux'.
"Why are you here, why do you stay ?" Pollux sobbed.
OoOoOo
01.12.1943 :
Hermione had not been able to eat at lunch, she had this knot in her stomach preventing her from swallowing anything. She was silently sitting at the Slytherin table, feeling some of the lads gaze on her. Hermione wasn't willing to raise her head and meet their eyes, she was still too shaken up by what she had witnessed with Pollux.
She had known him to be an alcoholic, struggling daily with his addiction. She had seen him at his worst - or what she had assumed to be his worst. But this morning she had been the witness of another Pollux. Someone who took important decisions about his brother's life without even consulting him. Hermione shook her head, trying not to think about that. But the moment she looked on her left, she saw Cole. He had been so soft with Pollux this morning, he had gently walked him back to his dorm. He had given her a smile she was still trying to understand.
"You're coming ?" A voice from above brought her out of her thoughts. Isodor was warmly smiling, his satchel around his shoulder, waiting for her to get up and follow him. Hermione only nodded and stood up. She shot a last glance at Cole, already looking at her, and smiled.
The walk towards their DADA lesson was relatively quiet. Isodor was chatting with Edgard and Edmund about the last Quidditch game while Milton, Thorus and Tom were debating about some runes.
"He's going to be alright, you know ?" Abraxas said to her. Hermione had not even realised he was walking beside her until now. She looked at him, not knowing what to answer. "Don't look at me like that Hortense. The Malfoys and Parkisons have always been really close. I almost grew up with them." He continued. "I've always been closer to Cassandre though, but I know Pollux. He's going to be fine. It's only politics. In a couple of years, it'll be forgotten."
Hermione shouldn't be surprised, in her own timeline Draco and Pansy were close and so were their family. So she just kept staring until they arrived in front of the door and Professor Aldritch was asking for them to enter. The room was rearranged for duels, they all knew it. The desks were pushed aside, leaving a large space in the middle of the room.
"Please gather around everyone." Atticus' loud voice called the students to the front of the room. "As you can all see, today is a special day. We've done theory so far and I would like to see you in action."
Hermione saw smiles on the student's face at the words. They were all excited to duel whereas she was simply hoping she would not have to do it. She withdrew herself to the back and avoided the professor's gaze. Some hands rose up to be the first one to duel but Aldritch called two specific students.
"I see there are two prefects here, one for Slytherin and one for Gryffindor. How about you show us how you duel ?" He said. Hermione saw Tom's head turning towards Shacklebolt and the smirk slowly growing on his lips.
The others formed a circle around the two students. Hermione hopped on one of the tables next to Belone, her legs dangling and her elbows on her thighs. The lads were not far from her, except for Milton on the other side of the room.
The two prefects stood in front of one another, both of their wands towards their chest and ready to begin. The last time Hermione had seen Tom in action was in January, during the attack. It had been different back then. First, he had not been patiently waiting for his opponent to bow. Second, he had been risking his life. He had been a good dueler, especially for someone his age. He was good, she knew it.
Shacklebolt and Riddle bowed, took three steps backward and it began. The first spell was cast so fast, even Hermione was taken aback. It flew right out of Tom's wand and hit Harrison right in the shoulder. The Gryffindor prefect quickly responded to this attack with a Stupefy Tom easily ducked. The lads were cheering for their friend as they watched Tom dominate the duel.
From an outsider's point of view, this duel was great. Tom was clearly superior to his opponent. He was quick, powerful, and smart in his spells' selection. But this was no surprise to anyone, he had always been good at dueling.
However, this time, Hermine noticed something. He was quicker and stronger than the last time she saw him. As he was more powerful, he lacked a certain elegance. It was raw power not yet entirely mastered. But more importantly, he was holding back. And that scared her.
In the end, he won, no surprise there. He kept the perfect mask of humility as Aldritch complimented him. But he had this glint in his eyes, the one Hermione knew to be anger against himself. He, too, knew he had not mastered this duel perfectly and would work harder to do so. This is when a question popped in her mind :
Since when has he been training ?
Tom went to sit by Abraxas and Dolohov, the two clapping him on the shoulders to congratulate him. The duels went on. Hermione was still looking at him, not fully comprehending what she had just seen. She knew he was aware of her gaze on him, the smirk he constantly had on his face grew slightly. When Hermione noticed this, she turned her attention back to the duels, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.
The duels were getting more interesting than the year before, the students were slowly becoming more skilled and Hermione almost enjoyed watching them. Belone gently poked her in the ribs. Hermione turned to her friend with a questioning look.
"Tom's watching you." McNair told her. Hermione forced herself not to look.
"And ?" She asked.
"Nothing," Belone smirked, "I just wanted to let you know."
Her friend faced the duels once again, the smirk still not disappearing from her face. Hermione didn't look at Tom, she knew what he was playing at. He was good, to say the least. He must have known Belone would say something if he looked at her that way. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought.
He sure is committed to his plan.
"Who's that ?" Belone whispered. Hermione looked at where Belone was staring and noticed someone entering the room. Someone she knew. "What a sight for sore eyes." Her friend kept lurking at the man. Hermione preferred not to say anything and waited for Atticus Aldritch to notice the newcomer.
"Thank you everyone." The professor said. "It was a great lesson, you did all very good. I will see you next week."
The students gathered their belongings and left the classroom. Hermione thought about trying to blend into the crowd of students leaving the room when someone grabbed her wrist. She went to turn around to face what she knew to be Tom when someone interrupted her.
"Grace." The man who just entered the room said, slowly walking towards where Tom and she were standing. "I'm really happy to see you."
Hermione put on her fakest smile and felt Tom's grip loosening until he let go of her.
"Mister Oswald," She smiled. "I hadn't seen you there."
Tom's face morphed into something else when he heard his name. He quickly glanced at her and became more interested in what was happening.
"I've already told you to call me Stilton." Oswald said. His voice was deep and sensual. The uneasiness Hermione had felt in Aldritch's office a week ago went crushing back. Hermione felt the need to cover herself from head to toe. Oswald's eyes were roaming her body. He was about to speak again when Gemma Montague entered the room, obviously looking for Professor Aldritch. At the sight of Oswald, her gaze softened and she smiled. Hermione quickly looked at the man and noticed the predatory smile growing on his lips.
Oh.
This moment lasted only for a second before Oswald turned back towards Hermione. She saw Gemma's face flattening at the sight.
"Would you stay for some tea ?" Oswald asked her. The only thing that went by Hermione's mind was a big fat no. However, she simply shook her head.
"I'm sorry but I can't." She politely declined. She looked at Tom and saw her way out. "Tom and I have some urgent homework to do."
Only someone who had spent hours analysing Tom's face would notice the small frown he had on his face. Hermione noticed. She was almost expecting Tom to say something but he simply let the situation play out.
"Nonsense." Oswald smiled. "I'm sure Atticus can get your way out of that."
"I'd never ask Professor Aldritch to do that." Hermione tried to keep her tone light. Her eyes were going back and forth between Oswald and the door, only hoping for this conversation to stop soon. She took a few steps towards the door, Tom on her left, still not saying a word. Oswald a few feet behind, accompanying her to the door. She tried to discreetly lower her skirt as she was sure he was looking at the back of her thighs. As they arrived at the door, Tom went out first. When Hermione was about to follow suit, she felt Oswald's hand on her lower back and his breath coming next to her right ear. "Always a pleasure to see you." He purred.
Hermione was not only horrified by the tone he used but by the fact that he was touching her. His hand on her lower back was almost burning her. His touch was unbearable, it made her feel dirty. Hermione sent Oswald a tight smile and went by Tom's side, quickly walking away.
They didn't talk, both aware of the conversation they were going to have couldn't be held in public. Tom turned right and walked towards a room he knew to be empty. He opened the door to let her enter first, instinctively gently pushing her inside with his hand on her back. Once the door closed, he began.
"Why haven't you said yes to him ?" Tom said.
"What ?" Hermione couldn't believe what he had just said.
"You could have got information out of him." Tom kept going.
"Are you-" She began but Tom cut her off.
"You always have excuses to justify your lack of work. You clearly had an opportunity back there to do something. I said nothing in the last meeting regarding your supposed plan to get him out of the way because we both know you do not have one. What is your excuse this time, Grace ?"
His question was so genuine that Hermione understood he had not felt the awkwardness back there. He must not have seen the way Oswald was looking at her, like a piece of meat. He must not have noticed the small glances towards her thighs or chest. He must not have felt the twisted atmosphere around them. He must not have perceived her uneasiness and fear she had felt towards the man. He had been oblivious to the entire situation.
"I don't have one." Hermione chose to answer. She didn't want to talk further with him. She looked at the mural clock. "I have to go." She said. "I told Cole I'd check on Pollux." As if she knew what he was about to say she added "I won't be late, I'll see you and the lads in an hour."
She went towards the door to leave when he did the one thing he knew would make her stay : he scoffed.
"What now ?" She almost snapped as she spun around to face him.
"I dither between finding your adoration towards Parkinson amusing or simply pathetic." Tom said. "Even when he hurts you in the most horrible ways, you keep going back. You did this last year after your birthday when he did not stand up for you, and you do it now when he openly threw his problems at your face."
Hermione knew better than to directly answer what Tom said. She suddenly felt the urge to defend her friend. "He was drunk." She replied.
"When is he not ?" Tom smirked.
OoOoOo
01.01.1943 :
Hermione gently knocked on the seventh-year boys' dorm. The door opened and Cole's face appeared. He quickly looked back then joined her outside after gently closing the door behind him.
"He doesn't remember anything from his little breakdown this morning." He told her. "I don't think it'd do him any good to bring that up."
"We can't overlook what happened Cole." Hermione said. "You weren't there, you haven't heard everything he said. He needs help. He needs to talk about his feelings, about what's happening inside his head."
"Not now. That's all I'm asking of you."
"You're the one to delay everything Cole." She hissed. "Talking to him about his alcoholism ? Not now. Talking about his family issues ? Not now. Talking about his mental health ? Not now." Hermione felt the anger slowly rising in her belly. "We're his friends Cole, we must start acting like it."
Without even waiting for an answer, she slowly entered the dim-lit room to find Pollux on his bed. She crouched on the floor next to him and put her hands on the bed and her chin on top of them. She noticed that Cole had not followed her inside and must have gone down to the common room.
"Feeling better ?" Her voice was soft and calm. Pollux just let out a groan as an answer. The nightstand was packed with half-empty hangover potions. Hermione rose to her feet and gently pushed Pollux to the side to sit next to him.
"What time is it ?" He asked, half opening his eyes to look at her.
"Around three." She said. "You've been asleep for about four hours."
Pollux groaned once more and buried his face in his pillow. Hermione wondered if it was the right time to broach the subject. As Cole's word kept playing in her head, she simply let the silence do the conversation. They stayed like that for about a minute before he broke it.
"Say it." Pollux loudly exhaled. "Say what you have to say."
"What you did was fucked up."
At her words, he closed his eyes tighter then sat on his bed.
"Yes." He acknowledged. "Don't you think I'm aware of that ?"
"Why did you do it then ?"
"I did what I had to do. Like I always do." He said it in a desperate tone.
"Isn't it the problem ?" Pollux frowned so she explained further. "You do what you have to do, not what you think is right."
"No Grace, this is the right thing to do." He let out a humourless laugh.
"You're thinking as the heir of your family not as a brother."
"Do you know what would have happened if I had thought like a brother ?" He rhetorically asked her. "My father would have realised that my first decision was not the right one and then could have decided I wasn't fit for the role. Then what ? He could have ousted me." Pollux sat even straighter and rose his chin to look at her. "And what am I if not the heir ?" He shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. I'd rather be an arsehole than nothing."
He is afraid. He is afraid of losing it all by speaking his mind.
He has no safety net.
He's not top of his class. He's not a prefect nor a HeadBoy. He has nothing but this.
This heir title.
"And you're ready to lose your brother for what ?" Hermione asked. "A title ?"
"Oh Grace," he pathetically answered, "I've lost him a long time ago."
Hermione removed her shoes then laid back next to him. She took his hand and squeezed it. A comfortable silence settled. She knew Pollux was restraining himself from crying or even letting out any sound that would indicate how sad he felt at this moment. So, she just kept holding his hand. She heard his ragged breath and heavy exhales. She felt his desperation and self-hatred. So, she just kept holding his hand.
"Sometimes I wish I was somewhere else. Most of the time to be honest." She began, her voice barely a whisper. "I feel like I'm stuck. Stuck somewhere I don't belong. I feel really lonely. But not when I'm with you. Never when I'm with you, actually." She turned her head to look at his side. "I feel like I'm wearing a mask when talking to others. Not being my true self. But not when I'm with you. Never with you. You're my break from reality Pollux."
He also turned his head to look at her, his eyes becoming glassy.
"Why are you telling me that ?" He asked, voice thick from emotions.
"I just feel like you need to know why I'm here, why I stay."
05.12.1943 :
They had been waiting for her for about ten minutes before Tom decided it was enough. The air was freezing and snow was slowly falling from the grey sky.
"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks, I'm fucking freezing." Abraxas complained. Tom was about to agree when he saw, from afar, Cole leaving what seemed to be a pub. It definitely was a pub, Tom had walked past it a few times since his first Hogsmeade trip in third year. He had never gone in though. He didn't have to think twice about it before knowing she surely was in there.
"I think I know where she is." He said before walking towards the pub. The seven boys followed him and they all entered the small place. It was not as crowded as the others in the streets were during the Hogsmeade trip. There were a few clients by the fire at the back of the room. A large bartender was behind the bar, cleaning some glasses. And here she was. Casually seated on one of the high stools by the bar like she owned the place, a glass of what seemed to be elf wine in her hand.
"Cole's wrong about that Abe, Pollux wa-" Grace stopped talking as she heard the little bell above the door ring. She turned her head to the right, as did the bartender, and both of them stared at the lads.
"We don't serve alcohol to underage wizards boys." He said. Grace was frozen on the spot, apparently not fully understanding what they were doing here.
"Why are you serving Grace then ?" Isodor asked. The bartender looked at Grace.
"You know them ?" He asked her.
Grace opted for not answering and directly addressed the lads. "What are you doing here ?" She almost hissed.
"We've been waiting for fifteen minutes in the cold Grace." Edgard answered. She looked at the clock, on the wall in front of her, and sighed. "Fuck." She muttered. Edmund rolled his eyes and went to the back of the room to sit at a circular table. The lads quickly followed him, except for Tom, who was cheekily looking at her, one elbow on the bar. As the bartender went to take the lads' orders, Tom approached her.
"So, this is Abe." He said. Grace nodded and took a sip of her drink, not directly answering. He knew she was not about to say anything, so he just continued. "Just saw Woodcroft storming out of here." At that, Grace looked at him, apparently understanding what was not said. "Trouble in paradise ?" He mocked her.
"I'm not in the mood, Riddle." She said.
"Oh, so we are back on the last name basis, Hortense ?" He cheekily asked. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up to join the lads. Tom looked at her as she walked away, amused.
"What will you be drinking ?" He heard a voice behind the bar. He spun around and noticed that the bartender, Abe, had returned.
"What can I drink ?" He asked back. Tom saw Abe's lips slightly twitch upward, apparently amused with the way Tom shot back. The prefect internally smiled, the first impression seemed to be a good one.
Actually, since Pollux's birthday back in September, Tom had been quite interested in this Abe. The three friends, Pollux, Cole, and Grace seemed to often talk highly of him. It seemed entirely normal for Tom to know who this person was. He listened carefully to the drunken stories Pollux told his friends in the common room, about the way he acted with the bartender. He listened carefully because Tom knew that when he'd meet Abe - because he would - he would need to make a good impression.
The bartender took out a glass and put it on the bar in front of Tom then began pouring what looked like butterbeer. At the sight, Tom forced a smile on his lips, took the glass, and went to join the lads.
It seemed like the lads quite enjoyed this pub. As it was not as crowded as the other in the street, they were able to talk without having to almost yell. The table at which they were all seated was big enough for the nine of them to sit comfortably.
"Shouldn't we be celebrating Malfoy's new acquisition ?" Thorus suggested. Tom saw the small grins appearing on the other lads' faces. Malfoy, however, scowled at Nott.
"What acquisition ?" Grace asked.
"The Malfoy family just became the new owners of a third of Diagon Alley." Edgard laughed. Grace seemed to be impressed at that.
"Nothing worth celebrating." Abraxas mumbled.
"Nonsense." Isodor snickered. "Come on Milton, we'll get the drinks." Avery clapped Milton's back for him to get up and they both went to the bar to order another round. Tom hid his smirk in his drink, still amused by Edgard's cheekiness. He quickly looked at Grace and noticed her staring at Abraxas, a questioning look on her face.
OoOoOo
05.12.1943 :
"Well gentleman," Edmund stood up, "I must leave you. A charming lady is waiting for me."
"Who's the unlucky bird ?" Antonin mocked.
"Lynn Flanagan." Rosier announced proudly. Edgard simply whistled in amazement and received a little shove from his friend.
"Actually, I need to leave too." Thorus said. "I've told Silas I'll join him at the bookstore."
"Let's all leave then." Milton suggested.
The group left money on the table for the drinks and went towards the door. Tom saw Grace lingering behind, obviously wanting to properly greet the bartender goodbye. For once, Tom gave her this minute of privacy, waiting for her by the door.
He held the door open, let her out and with a small nod towards Abe, exited the pub.
The group headed south, towards where most of the shops were when a voice Tom recognized, stopped them in their tracks.
"Grace ?"
They all turned around and saw Stilton Oswald walking their way.
"Mister Oswald." The girl politely replied. At the name, most of the lads became alert and stood a little bit straighter. "To what do I owe the pleasure ?"
"Gentlemen." The ambassador greeted the lads. Tom almost snickered at the fake smile Isodor bore on his face. Oswald's eyes went back on Grace's figure. "I'm joining your DADA teacher for a drink. You should come with us, if I recall correctly you owe me a cup of tea, Grace."
The first time Tom saw Stilton Oswald he was quite surprised by the fact that he was good looking. The ambassador had the perfect face for politics : utterly charming. Moreover, Tom was not that surprised that Stilton Oswald seemed captivated by Grace. Afterall, Grace was captivating.
"I wouldn't dare interrupt your day. I'm sure you're quite busy." Grace answered, her jaw slightly tense.
"Come on Grace," Antonin smirked, "it would be impolite to refuse such a lovely offer."
Tom slightly frowned. On one hand, Tom understood why Dolohov wanted her to say yes. Time was running out, and everyone was counting on her to "get rid" of him. On the other hand, Dolohov had never been a team player regarding Grace. On the contrary, he would be the first one to make sure she didn't succeed just to point out her mistake later, during a meeting for instance.
He then turned his head towards her and saw Grace hesitating. He couldn't believe it. He had been quite clear the other day regarding this situation. She met his gaze as she surely felt the way Tom was glaring at her. Her eyes were wide and almost pleading - pleading for what ? Tom didn't know - so he simply answered for her. "She would love to."
05.12.1943 :
Hermione was almost relieved to see the three broomsticks packed. When Tom answered for her, she felt dread crushing through her body at the thought of being alone with him.
"Bourbon ?" Oswald bent towards her to ask her.
"I'm underage." She answered, trying to lean away from him.
"Never been a problem."
Actually Mister Oswald, it should be a problem.
He signaled to the bartender and ordered two bourbons, before guiding her towards a secluded table at the back. He pulled her chair for her to sit and push it back as she bent her knees. He let his right hand linger on her shoulder as he went to sit by her side.
"When is Professor Aldritch joining us ?" She asked.
"Atticus has never been known for his punctuality." Oswald smiled. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest.
He was never supposed to be there, right ?
"Every time I see you Grace, you are surrounded by different men." Oswald approached her slightly. "But who am I to blame them ? I most surely understand the appeal."
Hermione visibly curled up at the words, trying to get away from him. Yet, the man only got closer and closer until he put his hand on her thigh. Oswald and Hermione startled when the barmaid put the drinks on their table. Oswald straightened and took off his hand out of Hermione's leg.
Hermione had been afraid many times in her life. She had been afraid of torture, of losing friends, of dying even. However, she had never been afraid of a man in a packed pub. Until now.
Like nothing ever happened, Oswald lit up a cigarillo and smiled at her. He began talking but Hermione couldn't hear anything. She saw his lips move in accordance with what he must have been saying but nothing reached her ear. She was too concentrated on her frantic heartbeat and the sound of her pulse in her ears to focus on his words.
"Grace ?" He repeated and Hermione snapped out of her trance.
"Excuse me, what ?"
"Will I see you ?"
"Where ?"
"At the Christmas party."
OoOoOo
10.12.1943 :
She wanted to talk to no one. She didn't even want to be there, surrounded by hundreds of students cheering for their house, in the middle of the bleacher during winter. No, she certainly didn't want to be there. Pollux wasn't even playing - after the Cassandre Drama as Cole liked to call it and the fact that Pollux had skipped an entire day of lessons, he had been given an important number of detentions. One of them being during the Slytherin vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match.
She quickly looked on the right and saw the lads altogether, laughing at something Isodor must have said. She wanted to yell at them. All eight of them. Yelling at them about the fact that yes she would do something about Oswald, no she wasn't sure about her plan yet, yes she was thinking about it, no she didn't need their shitty ideas. So Hermione just looked back at the pitch and tried to think about something else, enjoying a few minutes of loneliness she actually enjoyed.
"Is everything alright ?"
Hermione turned her head to the left and saw Cole leaning against the guardrail.
"I'm fine." She cut short. Hermione was not in the mood to talk. To anyone.
"Sure seems like it." He tried to joke. She didn't bother answering, she just looked back at the game. She heard him exhale loudly, apparently exasperated by her behaviour.
"What do you want Cole ?" She snapped.
"What's up with you lately ?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "You're off. Actually, you've been off for days now. What's going on ?"
Hermione almost laughed.
What's going on with you, Hermione ?
Let's recapitulate, shall we ?
You've met Nicolas Flamel, almost got caught, got some help, got your hopes up but still have no clue how to get back.
You can't get two minutes alone without one of the lads or Tom reminding you of what you have to do. And what is it ?
Taking down a pervert who seems to be quite interested in getting into your pants.
"Nothing." She harshly answered.
"See ! Yes, something's wrong. Tell me, maybe I can hel-"
"If I needed your help Cole, I would have asked. I don't recall asking you to, so back off."
Hermione realised that Cole had only been a friend, a good friend and she had just snapped at him. "I'm sorry, I-" She began.
"Whatever." Cole stood up and left. Hermione almost grabbed him by the coat to make him stay but her arm didn't move. She simply watched him go, unable to move or to speak. Suddenly the entire Slytherin bleacher applauded and cheered even louder. She took it as her cue to leave.
She found herself aimlessly walking through a deserted Hogwarts and ended up in the dungeon. As she walked past the potion classrooms, she saw one of the doors half-open. She silently approached and peeked through it. Pollux was sitting at one of the tables, silently writing on a parchment. She waited in the doorway, gently leaning against the doorframe and simply looked at him. It was not every day she could witness Pollux Parkinson doing some actual work.
Hermione wondered for a few seconds if she really wanted to interrupt this calm, but in the end, she decided on yes. She slowly approached him and gently smiled when he rose his head. They didn't talk. She simply pulled a chair next to him, sat down, and put her head on his shoulder. She enjoyed the silence and the fact that Pollux understood she didn't want to talk. He simply went back to his parchment. Only the sound of the quill on the parchment could be heard. Hermione noticed that Pollux was making sure to stay as still as he could, so he wouldn't disturb her. She smiled at the thought. A few minutes passed before Hermione's studious side decided on looking at what her friend was writing. Firstly, she was not really surprised that he was not working on potions - as he should have. Secondly, she noticed a mistake at the top of the parchment.
"You've made a mistake." She pointed at it and Pollux turned his head to look at her. When he finally understood what she meant, he only smiled and went to correct it. "How come you're not doing potion during your potions detention ?" Hermione asked him.
"As you can see kiddo, old Slug's at the Quidditch game. I can do what I want. And believe me when I say this protean charm essay actually requires work unlike what I thought a week ago."
Hermione chuckled then suddenly stopped. She stood straight in her chair and everything stilled for a second. Her mind was rushing, she felt the adrenaline pulsing through her body and a small laugh escaped her lips. She quickly stood up, almost falling from the chair, and put both of her hands on Pollux cheeks. "You're a genius." She kissed his forehead and ran out of the room.
Her legs were running on their own, from the dungeons to the seventh floor. She was breathing heavily when she arrived, she stopped for a while in order to catch her breath before walking three times in front of the wall and walking in. Hermione didn't even bother looking around her and fell straightforward on her knees. She put the entirety of her purse on the floor and skimmed through the multitude of items. Then, she found it. Underneath the Marauder's Map, gold and shiny. The galleon.
She took it with shaky hands and let out a sigh of relief. It was there, it was working - at least she hoped it would. When Pollux talked about the protean charm, something clicked in her mind. She had created an entire communication system during her fifth year, interconnecting each member of Dumbledore's Army with a Protean charm, she knew perfectly how everything worked. So why not try to defy the law of time with it ?
You ought to explore every possibility there might be.
Flamel's words were resonating in her head, on a loop. Hermione had been so blinded by the painting for a year that she had not even thought about any other alternative. Of course, she knew it might not work. Of course, she knew she might be disappointed. But what else could she do but try ? She had nothing to lose.
She turned the galleon in her hand and began thinking about what would happen if her idea actually worked. What if time was not linear as she always thought it was ? What if her future was taking place at the same moment as her present ?
Does that mean, in the year you've been gone, they might all have died ?
Her heartbeat quickened at the thought and felt the slow panic rising in her throat.
Don't even start Hermione.
She couldn't begin thinking that way, so she tried to focus back on the galleon in her palm. Back in her fifth year, she had only used it with numbers. She had never actually written whole sentences but she knew she could. The only thing here was : what could she even write ?
She needed to be brief and precise. She needed the message to be quickly understood.
"Stuck in 1943. Can't go back. Send help. HG" She mumbled to herself as she typed it on the galleon.
OoOoOo
16.12.1943 :
Hermione felt like this meeting was the hundredth this month, almost twice a week the lads and herself met in the same room on the fifth floor. She had stayed rather quiet during this one. Once again, she had not talked further about what she was planning to do with Oswald. Because yes, Hermione finally built a plan and she didn't want to share it.
She was half-listening to what was being discussed between the others, she heard the words "government", "Tuft", "public response", and "Grindelwald". Nothing out of the ordinary. Given that she had no real interest in joining the conversation, she replayed her plan in her mind. Entirely. She came to two conclusions : One, Oswald would definitely be out of the picture by the end of it. Second, she couldn't do it all alone. She would need one person to help her. Her eyes laid on each of the boys sitting around the table before landing on the one lad she knew would be the one helping her.
When Tom dismissed everyone, she quickly looked around her and approached the boy she needed to talk to. She waited for everyone to leave the room before grabbing him by the wrist and holding back inside - just the two of them.
"I might need your help." She told him.
Author's note : First of all, we're quite proud to have finished the chapter within about a month. Yes, we don't need much to be proud.
If there's any french reading this ff, you might notice that Pollux's breakdown is directly inspired by the Fauve song (it was quite popular in 2012, and when we re-listened we directly thought of the tragedy that is Pollux). We've thought about that around chapter 9, so it feels so good to have finally written it tbh.
Even though Pollux is quite the little bastard, he still remains our favourite - we love our son.
Furthermore, we don't reply to any reviews on ff whereas we do on AO3 and we think this is not fair, so if you want, we will begin replying to reviews in the note.
We're literally so excited for next chapter, it's gonna be so fun to write and we hope you'll enjoy it as much as we do.
Your reviews are giving us life. You are all so kind and amazing. Reading them is just pure happiness, we love you all so much.
Lots of love,
-DDM's Managers