A/N There were so many lovely responses to the last chapter. Thank you all so much.
Third Year - Part Six
Hermione blinked in surprise at the tawny owl that had landed beside her bowl of cereal: it wasn't often that she received any post. She removed the letter from the bird's leg and offered it some bacon before opening the parchment. When she'd read the small note within, she glanced up at the Slytherin table. Breakfast had only just begun and there were barely a handful of students present from each house. Nott was the only Slytherin student seated from the younger years and he must have sensed her gaze because he looked up. In the brief moment that their eyes met, he raised one eyebrow challengingly, she gave him a small nod and then he returned his attention to his breakfast with the tiniest hint of a pleased expression on his face.
Hermione felt a twinge of apprehension but it had nothing to do with Nott himself. Her unexpected friendship with him had grown stronger since their trip out on the lake two weeks ago, as had her health. A couple of days after catching up on some sleep on the little island, she finally felt her cold symptoms start to disappear, and by the end of the week she was fully recovered. She didn't know whether the improvement was truly down to her secret trip with Nott, but it had certainly given her a mental lift if not a physical one. When she'd woken in the clearing to discover that he'd filled two pieces of parchment with notes from the books she'd brought, she'd been utterly flabbergasted. Once again she'd asked herself the question: who exactly was Theodore Nott?
A few months ago she'd had him all figured out as your average bigoted, pureblood Slytherin, but then he'd asked her for a book about muggles and danced with her as an equal. His talent at sailing was very unexpected, as was his connection with the water. He'd come alive out on the lake in a way that she'd previously only glimpsed when they'd been dancing. The small details he'd shared about his mother and beloved pet crup added another, more vulnerable, dimension to his character that she hadn't anticipated, but this was trumped by him helping her fight Buckbeak's case - a cause he'd already claimed they'd certainly lose. Two weeks later, she could still barely believe he'd done so much to help her that day. His notes were good, too, and as long as Hagrid delivered them well in Saturday's hearing, Buckbeak would stand his best chance of winning (though Nott requested that she didn't tell Hagrid about his involvement).
They'd already gone on a second trip out on the lake just yesterday. It had been another nice spring day but a little colder than their previous trip - though that hadn't stopped Nott taking another dip in the water. Unsurprisingly, she had still refused to join him. However, he did teach her a few basics about how to sail the dinghy and let her have a go at operating the tiller.
"My parents and I don't really live anywhere near the coast," Hermione had told Nott once they'd successfully made it onto the island. "We had a few trips down to the seaside when I was younger but I never went sailing - it was just paddling in the waves, climbing on the rocks, building sandcastles and that sort of thing."
"You don't have any siblings?" he asked.
"No, it's just me, Mum and Dad," she confirmed as they walked through the trees. "They're dentists."
"Dentists?" he repeated. "What's that?"
"Oh, they're like muggle healers for your teeth," she explained. She could tell by the look on Nott's face that he thought this was an odd profession but he made no comment about it. "What about your father - what does he do?"
"Good question," Nott replied. "He spends most of his time shut up in his study since my mother died. Sometimes I'll go days without even seeing him."
Hermione glanced over at him with sympathy. "That must be pretty lonely," she said softly.
Nott shrugged. "I'm used to it. I have Carenza to keep me company and there are my aunts Constance and Lavinia too."
"Do they live with you?" Hermione asked intrigued.
"Yes. Aunt Constance has lived in the house all her life. She's actually my father's aunt and about a hundred years old," he explained.
"She's lived in the same house for a hundred years?" Hermione gasped.
"It's the Nott family's ancestral home - Hanternoss Hall," he said. "She never got married so it's the only home she's ever known apart from Hogwarts. My other aunt, Lavinia, is my father's sister. She married a Bulstrode but they had no children and he died a year or so before my mother. She moved back to Hanternoss to help my father raise me."
"Oh, that was nice of her," she said when she couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Mmm," Nott replied unconvincingly. "Preparing the next generation of Nott was very important to her. I'd love to see the look on her face if she knew I was here with you."
Hermione felt coldness sweep through her. "She's an advocate of pureblood supremacy then?"
"Oh yes," Nott confirmed with certainty as they came into the clearing. "Nothing's as important as blood and upholding the Nott name to my family. It's all I ever heard as I was growing up, but I imagine that was the same for most families like mine."
Hermione glanced at him. They'd never actually had the 'blood' conversation before, perhaps because it was quite sensitive for both of them. She'd never really thought about what it was like growing up in a family like Nott's - having the hateful belief that muggles were dirt drummed into them from the moment they were born. Maybe it wasn't such a surprise that so many purebloods believed in it after all. She almost felt a little sorry for them that they were taught to look down on others from such a young age. But that didn't excuse them maintaining their bigoted opinions as they got older and had the chance to learn more about the world - to discover the truth like Nott had done. Unfortunately, he was a rare case amongst his peers.
"I'm still not sure whether my family genuinely believe it or they choose to as a way to remain one of the leading families in magical Britain," Nott mused as they unfurled the blanket. "Either way, they'd be horrified to know that I think it's a load of shit."
"You won't tell them, will you?" she asked. She had a feeling that they wouldn't take too kindly to hearing that.
Nott laughed. "Not while I still have to live with them. They'd probably try to use some sort of spell or potion to make me change my mind: they can't have the last Nott disgracing the family name."
She felt a stab of pity that he had to hide who he truly was from so many people, but at least he didn't have to be that way with her. She suspected that Nott needed their trips away from the castle just as much as she did.
They planned to go to their island every other weekend as long as the weather was fair, and Hermione found that her apprehension over using the time-turner to repeat her Sunday mornings had diminished. She was healthier and happier than she had been in months (despite the fact that Ron was still convinced that Crookshanks had killed Scabbers).
Her extra dance sessions with Davies and Nott were also going well, and the two of them had somehow mastered the laborious Highland reel. There were only three weeks left until their examination and Tam had agreed to give them a second rehearsal slot a week, even though he was very busy with his own exam preparations. Nott had only agreed to her putting her body through another hour of dance on one condition, and they had spent a lot of the previous day debating over it. Nott had made some very good points and eventually convinced her to meet him halfway...
Hermione took her final sip of tea and left the Great Hall to make the long trek up to the Divination Tower. She'd scheduled an early meeting with Professor Trelawney and hoped to have it concluded before the rest of the Third Year students turned up. She clutched Nott's encouraging note in her hand as she walked and told herself she was doing the right thing: she was not skilled in Divination (not that she thought many people were) and if she was unlikely to score well in her end-of-year exam then there was no point in continuing with the subject. No Divination would mean that there were two hours of lessons per week she no longer had to sit through and less homework, too. Nott had tried to convince her to give up Muggle Studies as well but Hermione had pointed out that she should do well in that test, so she was determined to stick with it even if it was only until the end of the year.
The ladder was already down when she reached the tower. She took a moment to prepare herself before she ascended into the heavily-perfumed classroom for what she hoped was the final time.
Their voices were hushed as they spoke anxiously to each other in the dance corridor. Half of their ballet class were already inside the room for their examination, while the rest waited to be called in. Hermione envied those who had been in the first group because she was struggling to contain her nerves.
Nott and the other Slytherins were in the first exam and she hoped that he was doing well. She was confident that he was: Nott had been good from the start and Hermione was sure that he'd gained a lot of confidence from the sessions with Tam Davies. While she didn't prescribe to the signora's view that purebloods were born for the ballet, Hermione did think that Nott seemed to be a natural in the art.
As for herself, Hermione knew that she'd come a long way over the year so far and the shaping of her body came much more easily to her. Her main difficulty now was the performance element of ballet: presenting the moves she knew so well with a smile on her face and that air of gracefulness. It was easier to do in her smaller sessions without the Slytherins around. They had been making particularly snide comments to her for a couple of weeks and Pansy had even tried to trip her up when the Vittozzis weren't looking. Hermione knew exactly why the hostilities had ramped up: she had hit Malfoy when he'd been making fun of Hagrid.
She didn't regret losing her temper with him when Hagrid was so heartbroken over Buckbeak's impending execution. The whole hearing had played out exactly as Nott had predicted and the unfairness of it all had left her furious. She could still picture the staggered expression on Malfoy's face that she had dared to strike him, and it produced a good feeling within her though she knew it wasn't right to go around slapping people even if they were arrogant little slimeballs.
Davies had given her a high five during their next session. "I don't know what he did to piss you off, Granger, but I'm in no doubt that the little shit deserved it."
"You should be careful though," Nott had said. "Draco hasn't told anyone about it but everyone knows anyway. He's furious and he'll look to get you back."
But if the worst that Malfoy could do was call her a disgusting mudblood and get other people to bump into her then Hermione wasn't particularly worried.
"Do you think they'll want to see the galop or the allemande?" Neville asked her nervously. "I hope not - I think I've completely forgotten how to dance them."
"You'll be fine once the music starts, Neville," she reassured him. "You've done really well at all the traditional dances lately." That was mostly true because Neville was a lot better than he'd been at the start of the year, but he still relied on his partners heavily to give him subtle hints about what to do next.
"Thanks, Hermione. I hope I don't mess it up for you," Neville told her sheepishly.
"Don't be silly - you'll be great," she told him with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. He smiled gratefully at her and then a look of realisation came upon his face.
"Oh, I completely forgot," he muttered, reaching down to search through his bag. He stood up and handed her a small card. "They asked me to give it to you because you'd already left."
"Thanks," she said as she opened the good luck card to see Harry and Ron's names signed at the bottom. She smiled at their show of support; it was nice to have her friends back. The terrible news from Hagrid about Buckbeak had been enough to make them bury their differences. Scabbers' disappearance was still a sensitive subject, but Hermione suspected that the boys felt guilty about isolating her and forgetting about their promise to help Hagrid prepare Buckbeak's defence, and they had been tentatively trying to make amends over the last couple of weeks. She didn't see the need to tell them about Nott, both in terms of his assistance with Buckbeak and that her developing friendship with him hadn't left her quite as alone as they'd assumed. Ron and Harry weren't ready to hear that there were at least two people in Slytherin House that were worth getting to know - certainly not with the Quidditch Cup final between the two houses to be played in a matter of weeks. She wanted to tell them about Nott but she also didn't want to risk her friendship with him by involving them.
Nott had apparently become aware that she was friends with Harry and Ron again because in the next dance session they'd had together he'd been noticeably more distant with her. She couldn't work out the cause of it until she'd asked him if they were going to the island together that weekend.
"You still want to go?" he asked her, clearly surprised.
She looked at him curiously. "Why wouldn't I? Dropping Divination might have given me back a couple of hours a week but there's still so much I have to do."
He frowned. "But I thought that now Potter and Weasley are talking to you again…" He trailed off.
"What - I wouldn't want to spend time with you anymore?" she asked.
"Well, yes," he admitted, still frowning.
"You can't be rid of me that easily," she told him lightly but then paused. "Unless you'd rather we stop, of course."
His mouth struggled to find the words for a moment. "No, I like our trips on the lake," he eventually said. "I like spending time with you."
Hermione was distinctly aware that her cheeks felt warm but she tried to ignore it. "That's good because I like having you as a friend too, Nott."
The corners of his mouth lifted at her words and he nodded. "Friends," he confirmed.
Hermione's focus was brought back to the present when the door to the dance classroom was opened and the first group filed out looking sweaty and red-faced. They talked in excited whispers and all looked quite happy with how their exam had gone. Hermione discretely tried to catch Nott's eye. When he sensed her gaze, he sent her a very small nod and half smile which she presumed meant that he was pleased with his performance.
The Vittozzis also exited the room and the signora loudly announced how pleased she was with those who had just performed. Her enthusiasm faltered when her gaze turned to the students who were minutes away from taking their own exam, particularly when she looked at Hermione and Neville, but Hermione was so used to her disdain that she barely even noticed. The signor, however, gathered the remaining students together and looked at them proudly.
"You have all worked so hard," he said, looking at each of them in turn. "Some of you are almost unrecognisable from the dancers that stepped into that room in September. I am sure that you will all do yourselves proud. And remember - if something goes wrong, just keep smiling and carry on." He smiled at them encouragingly, patting a few on the shoulder as they returned to make their final preparations. "Show them what you're made of," he told Hermione quietly and her spirit soared at the goodwill she felt him sending her way.
"I will," she promised and then hurried over to her bag to put on her shoes.
Sooner than she expected, the group was asked to line up in the correct order to enter the examination room, and she hurried to take her place. She noticed that Nott was frowning slightly at her but when she caught his gaze, he gave her another discrete half-smile.
It wasn't until about five minutes into the exam that she realised that something was wrong.
It felt like something sharp was digging into her feet. It was a fleeting sensation at first and she thought that perhaps her nerves were creating cramps in her muscles. She tried to ignore it but as the barre exercises continued, the stabbing pain occurred with greater frequency and intensity. But what could she do about it? She could hardly ask them to stop the exam while she tried to figure out what was wrong - she'd fail the assessment and then all her hard work would have been for nothing. No, Keep smiling and carry on, Signor had said, so that's what she intended to do. With so many other students in the room, she just hoped that the four examiners wouldn't notice her discomfort from where they sat at the front of the room with the Vittozzis.
By the time they had reached the grand battements, their final barre exercise, Hermione was fighting back tears. Every movement of her foot felt like the skin was being sliced open but she knew there had been nothing in her ballet shoes before she'd put them on.
Signor Vittozzi was suddenly before her with a look of grave concern. "Miss Granger, what is it?"
Despite her best efforts to remain strong, Hermione couldn't stop her breath hitching into a small sob. "My feet," she whispered. "I don't…"
He looked down and his eyes widened as he muttered something in Italian. With her eyes full of tears it took Hermione a few seconds to see clearly and she let out a horrified gasp at the blood that had begun to seep out of her shoes.
Signor quickly signalled to his wife and then turned back to Hermione, promptly scooping her up into his arms and carrying her from the room. She could feel everyone's eyes on her but she was in too much pain to care.
"Francesco, what's going on?" signora Vittozzi asked hurriedly as she followed them into the corridor.
"Someone tampered with Hermione's shoes," he replied brusquely as he shouldered open the door to their office.
Signora gasped. "You don't mean…?"
"Yes. Remove the items on the desk for me," Signor requested, still holding Hermione in his arms. With a wave of her wand the desk became clear and he gently placed Hermione down. "We need to get these off you at once, Hermione," he said calmly, gesturing to the stained shoes.
It was only when the ballet slippers had been removed that they could see how much damage had been done. The tights on her feet had been completely shredded and the fabric inside the shoes was entirely red. Signora had gone pale and she covered her mouth with her hand as she gazed wide-eyed at the bloody mess.
"How did you even keep dancing for so long?" Signor muttered to himself as he conjured up a warm bowl of water and some cloth to wash her feet. "Why didn't you say anything, Hermione?"
"I- I didn't want to fail," she admitted shakily, wincing as the water stung all the tiny cuts that criss-crossed her feet. "Will they fail me?" she asked them tearily.
Signora cleared her throat and looked at Hermione more kindly than she ever had before. "I'll see what I can do."
"Get the ointment first," her husband suggested and she nodded, turning to leave before he added, "And send word in case Hermione has time to try again before the examiners need to leave."
Hermione felt a small ray of hope in her chest. "You can heal my feet that quickly?" she asked.
He looked up at her. "Possibly," he said conservatively. "My wife and I have encountered this curse a few times during our careers. The competition to be awarded the top dancing roles can inspire jealousy and vindictiveness in others. Most dancers take the precaution of casting protective charms on all their possessions to stop something like this. It has been a while since I've seen such a bad case - usually dancers know to take their shoes off straight away when they first experience the slicing pain. Whoever did this was particularly cruel to do so as you were about to take your exam, knowing you wouldn't want to stop."
Hermione clenched her hands into fists as a culprit with a sneering face and white-blond hair came into her mind. She should've been more vigilant about Malfoy's quest for revenge.
The door to the office opened and Signora entered followed by the lead examiner - a white-haired witch with immaculate posture and stylish navy robes. The examiner's eyes homed in on the red lines that still covered Hermione's feet and the blood-soaked shoes that sat beside her.
She tsked loudly and shook her head gracefully. "Yes, I see, a very bad case, but of course we will wait, Katriona," she said in a light voice that had a heavy Russian accent. "As long as Miss Granger is able to dance before our portkey is scheduled to leave." She turned her gaze to Hermione. "You did very well to mask your inner suffering, my dear," she said, patting Hermione on her hand. "I hope I will still get the chance to see you dance the remainder of the examination."
"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione replied politely. "I hope so too."
The examiner patted her hand once more and then turned to Signora. "We'll resume the exam for the others, Katriona. We shall do some of the traditional dances twice to make up for the odd number of students."
"Of course, Natalia," Signora agreed as she escorted the examiner out of the office.
"I hope Neville will be alright without me," Hermione said sadly the moment the door was closed.
Signor didn't even look up from the jar of ointment he was unscrewing. "Mr Longbottom will have to fend for himself for the moment," he said. "You are a good partner for him but I predict that having two opportunities to perform the dances might actually help him remember the steps. Now, this will sting a little bit at first but it's important that we leave the paste on for a while to give the cuts time to heal."
Hermione eyed the burgundy substance warily and then nodded her feet. The ointment was surprisingly warm but Signor was accurate about how painful it was. She screwed up her eyes and pressed her lips together as he covered her feet with it, but after a few minutes the stinging subsided.
There was a knock on the door and the signor opened it to reveal Nott and Davies on the other side. For some reason the sight of them made Hermione feel teary again and she swallowed a lump in her throat as they came to stand next to her.
"You OK, Granger?" Davies asked, frowning down at her. His eyes flicked over to her shoes and his expression darkened.
"I think I will be," she told him honestly. "My feet have stopped hurting and Signor says they should heal up pretty quickly."
"Good," Davies said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Always knew you were made of strong stuff."
Hermione sent him a grateful smile.
"I knew something like this would happen," Nott said quietly. "I warned you."
"I know," Hermione sighed. "I should have been more careful."
"You know who did this?" Signor asked, looking between them.
"I have a very strong suspicion but I didn't see anything," Hermione replied.
"Malfoy?" Davies asked and Hermione nodded.
"Little shit," Davies muttered and then glanced over at the ballet master. "Er, sorry, Signor."
To Hermione's surprise, signor Vittozzi shrugged indifferently at the insult to one of his students.
"I think I saw… something," Nott admitted quietly and they all looked at him. "It happened just after I came out of my exam when Signor was speaking to the second group. I couldn't see because there were too many people in the way but Draco and Pansy were near your things when they had no reason to be. I thought it was unusual at the time." He shook his head. "I should have said something."
Signor put a hand on his shoulder. "There's no point in dwelling on 'what ifs'," he told him. "Unfortunately, without actual proof there is little I can do to punish those responsible."
"Well, those idiots better not make the mistake of bragging about it where I can hear them because I don't have a problem turning them in," Davies said darkly.
"You'd need more evidence than that unless you want Draco's parents kicking up a fuss," Nott warned. "They won't want their son accused of being involved with such a dark spell."
Davies made a scathing noise. "Oh, yes. We can't have the integrity of the Malfoy name questioned, can we?"
Signor Vittozzi shook his head ruefully "I'm sorry that it's possible your attackers won't be brought to justice, Hermione."
"Apparently that's the way the world works sometimes," she said sadly, thinking back to how Lucius Malfoy had got his way in Buckbeak's hearing. She cast her mind away for a change in topic. "How did you both know what had happened?" she asked the Slytherins.
"Theo was in the middle of telling me how he got on in his exam when he got a note from Signora," Davies explained.
Hermione glanced over at Nott in surprise. "You did? Why?"
"She thought I could dance with you if you were recovered," he explained, surprising Hermione further.
"Did you think my wife didn't know you and Theodore practised together?" Signor asked, looking a little amused at her reaction. "I'm not sure Neville has the stamina to repeat the exam so soon after completing it and Tam tells us you dance very well with Theodore. You don't object, do you?"
"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm just surprised. I didn't even think."
"One little curse and she loses all her supposed intelligence," Davies teased and Hermione pushed him in response. "And here I was going to offer to find another dancer to partner me so you and Theo have some company in the traditional dances," he said in a haughty tone. "I don't think I'll bother now."
Hermione felt her cheeks flush. "You don't have to do that. I don't want you to go to any trouble."
Davies shrugged. "I've put a lot of effort into you, Granger. I want to see you get the grade you deserve."
"And it'll look good on his résumé if he's successfully mentored both you and Theodore to good examination results," Signor added.
Hermione and Nott pinned Davies with matching accusatory expressions. "You said you were helping us because you 'just love dance so much'," Hermione said suspiciously.
"Well, that's mostly true," he replied easily. "I didn't tell you about mentioning the mentoring on my company applications in case it put pressure on you both."
"Or you were waiting to see what results we got," Nott suggested with a wry smile.
Davies smirked. "I am a Slytherin for a reason. So, should I get myself a dance partner or not?"
Hermione nodded. "As long as they're not from your house."
"Good point," Davies agreed. "I'll be back soon."
Experiencing the curse had been utterly horrific but, as she re-entered the dance classroom an hour later with her freshly healed feet, new shoes and a more determined attitude than she'd ever had before, she wished Malfoy and Parkinson could see that their spell had backfired. Hermione felt that the examiners were on her side and even Signora watched on approvingly. Nott was at her side during the centre work, and she felt that familiar sense of freedom with him there - it almost felt fun. Nott was so natural at performing the art to others that she found she was less self-conscious about adopting the graceful persona she'd been struggling to find in front of an audience. Davies and a blonde Hufflepuff joined them for the traditional dances which they breezed through flawlessly. There was even time for her and Nott to show off the Highland reel they'd been holding in reserve, and the rest of the room's occupants gave them a spontaneous round of applause when they finished perfectly in sync on the final note.
"Yeah, you two are definitely going on my résumé," Davies told them smugly as he clapped along with the others. Hermione beamed at the two Slytherins, wondering when she'd last been that happy.
A/N With everything that's going on, I thought we could use some fluffiness. I mean, I know there was a dark curse amidst all that but generally the chapter was cheering, right? I really hope you all enjoyed it. Keep safe everyone.
Red
