Special shout out to StaryMoonLit. Your review was the first thing I saw this morning and it inspired me to step up my efforts to get this next chapter out quickly. Thank you.
Golden Opportunities
Part 6
The day of the first match between Durmstrang and Hogwarts was unseasonably warm and bright for fall in the Scottish Highlands. Hermione was regretting her decision to wear the fitted, wool witch's robes, even though the flowing form of the garment did a lot to cover her baby bump from curious eyes.
The warmth combined with pregnancy hormones had Hermione sweating under the layers and the wool was starting to cause itching in one too many uncomfortable places. Places that couldn't be scratch when one was standing in a small crowd of very important witch and wizards from all over the Wizarding World.
It made Hermione reflect on women like Narcissa Malfoy, who always look so poised and graceful with never a hair out of place or a grimace of discomfort. She had an overwhelming feeling of respect for that lady's grit, because it was taking everything in Hermione not to run screaming into the Forbidden Forest while stripping nude.
Shaking hands with the Minister of Something or Other, Hermione was struck with the feeling that she was just a kid playing grown-up in her mom's clothes and there was no way she should be here speaking with government officials and school board members. At any moment, one of these respected people was going to yell, 'Fraud!', and run her off.
Viktor didn't seem to have this problem. He flowed through the crowd with greetings and personal inquires that only came with familiarity. Even while in conversation, he frequently glanced in her direction, always checking on her condition. Hermione wasn't sure what he saw to concern him, but he excused himself and hurried over to her side. Gently taking her hand and placing in the crook of his arm, Viktor began leading her towards the event venue.
Leaning down to whisper in her ear, Viktor inquired, "Are you alright?"
Hermione weakly smiled up at him, "Yes, just a little warm." The baby took this opportunity to vigorously kick around inside her. It was still too small to do much damage, however it never failed to make her nauseous. She slapped her hand across her mouth in response to bile that was trying to make its great escape.
Viktor immediately stopped walking and drew Hermione into his gentle embrace.
"Of course you are not alright," he murmured softly into her curls while rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?"
She shook her head against his chest, "It will pass soon. I just needed a minute."
He placed a kiss on her forehead, "Take all the time you need." Viktor tightened his embrace for a quick hug and place a couple of extra kisses across her brow.
The safety and comfort of being held so tenderly eased the turmoil boiling inside her. After a few more calming breaths, Hermione looked up into Viktor's concerned expression and smiled, proving to him that she was indeed beginning to feel better. Relief spread across his face in the form of a large grin and they both felt chuckles bubbling up.
"I'm not sure that such blatant displays of affection are appropriate in a school setting."
The biting fury flowing under the lazily drawled statement ripped through the calm moment like a sword. Hermione's head spun to the side, and she couldn't hold in the gasp.
There, not ten feet away, was Draco Malfoy. He was immaculately dressed in black robes with emerald encrusted buttons. His hair, now longer, was pulled back on top with the sides and back left free. He looked older as well. Gone were the last remnants of rounded youthful cheeks and in their place, the lean chiseled face of the man.
His eyes were the same though, silver pools of molten mercury, burning with emotion.
However, there was no mistaking the trademark grinning sneer that twisted his mouth. Draco raised a finger, tapping it on his chin, mockingly pretending he was in deep thought.
"I believe the muggle expression is," he glared directly into Hermione's eyes, "Get a room?" He arched his eyebrow as if to indicate he required her conformation.
Viktor stiffened and turned to face Draco directly. With a swift, firm tug, he pulled Hermione to his side possessively. His own, rarely used, pureblood mask fell into place and with a smug tone he addressed the Malfoy heir.
"Ah, Malfoy, have you come to offer your congratulations to Hermione and I? I wish I could assure you an invitation to the wedding but…" he trailed off giving an indifferent shrug.
That comment stung a bit, if the clenching of Malfoy's jaw was any indication. The condescending smirk never left his face though, and he begin to clap his hands slowly together, his gaze never wavering from Hermione's face. He then shook his head chuckling darkly, his features dropping in mock disbelief.
"Wow, I got to hand it to you, Granger. I never believed you would be able to dupe a pureblood into marrying you, but then, they don't say 'dumb jocks' for no reason." He shot a glance at Viktor with the last comment, just long enough to see the insult land and then returned his full attention on Hermione.
He continued, "Well, to be fair, there was always the chance that the Weasel might have eventually come around. If he could drag himself out of the pub long enough. Or Pothead, if he could pull himself out the Ginger long enough."
Draco laughed at his own joke and gestured in Hermione's direction. "Oh, come on, Hermione. We are old pals from school. Tell me your secret, tell me what charms you pulled out to reach for a wizard so far above you. Tell me, Granger. What was it? What did you do for Krum that would make you that special? TELL ME, HERMIONE!"
He realized that he had become rather loud, and his angry voice had carried to other guests farther across the lawn. Draco took a step back, closing his eyes to block everything out. A few seconds later, they opened and were cool ice once again.
For Hermione, every cruel word felt like a physical blow. Her mind cried out for her Gryffindor courage to rise from the depths it was cowering in and save her. When that didn't work, she struggled to find that strong, confident young woman she had been, but found only shadows and wisps.
Blood roared in her ears, echoing loudly with the ferocity of a violent storm. It was so intense, her body swayed and rocked like it was being buffeted by strong winds. The whole time, his vicious remarks cut through the maelstrom of her emotions to deal their damage. Blow after blow, directly to the heart.
Then, Hermione was filled with a sense of building pressure, like a volcano on the precipice of an eruption. All the past months of pain, heartache, worry, and despair jumbled together in a massive explosive mixture. Then, like a bomb, it all burst from inside her and the world faded away.
It was like falling asleep next to a warm campfire. No, not next to, but inside the fire, only it did not burn. The crackle and roar of the flames sang to her like a lullaby, soothing away the shadows. Hermione thought she could vaguely hear voices, however, every time she tried to concentrate enough to understand what they were saying, the sounds of the fire got louder and chased away the whispers. After a time, she stopped trying to listen and allowed herself to be lulled to sleep.
Draco was late to the festivities. First game of the year and the Malfoy representative, himself, was late to give his speech about the new Quidditch pitch his family had built at Hogwarts.
He hadn't woken up late. No, he awakened as soon as the first light peeked around the heavy curtains in his room. Susie, his elf, had laid out the perfect clothes and had even included a smart looking cane to go with his ensemble. Draco was whistling a tune on his way out the door, until he caught a glimpse of himself in the foyer mirror.
Draco jumped in surprise, thinking his father had snuck up on him, but further inspection proved the severe looking Malfoy was his reflection. He stared at the mini-Lucius in the mirror, thinking the cane really drove home the resemblance. Draco threw the piece of wood away like it burned him. He studied his own features, desperately trying to see himself, but all he saw was his father.
Who is he? Draco didn't recognize the man looking back at him. Who is Draco Malfoy?
He pondered these questions until the clock chimed the hour, a reminder that he had places to be. Draco sighed and hung his head for a second before he straightened, smoothing the flyaway hairs and brushing the wrinkles from his robes. With a swirl of midnight fabric, Draco apparated away, leaving the elegant cane lying discarded on the marble floor.
He landed right outside the heavy iron gates. The castle rose imposingly in the distance. The sense of 'coming home' overwhelmed Draco. His happiest memories were all within those sturdy, stone walls, hidden and protected from the reality of adulthood. His eyes roamed lovingly over the familiar structure.
The windows of the abandoned classroom that he and Hermione had often met were on this side of the school. Draco could swear if he squinted, he would see the ghostly image of them, curled up in the window seat and reading a book together. If he strained a little, he could almost hear her musical giggle, laughing at one of his snarky comments.
Draco closed his eyes so he could focus on the remembered sound of her laughter. Then, he heard it again, clearer this time, like it was just around the corner. The truth hit him hard in the chest.
She was here! The giggles weren't his imagination, they were real and close. It was as if the sun pierced through the dark clouds of his life and hope bubbled up inside him.
Draco sprang forward through the sturdy gate, half-running in his rush to find her. Decorum be damned, he had to get to her. He didn't know what he would say to her or how he would ever apologize enough for his horrible mistakes. He just knew he had to get to her and make it right. It was so clear to him now, he needed her. She had become as vital to him as the air filling his lungs, and there was no way that he was going to go another day suffocating in this world alone.
Many small groups of people were strolling down the lawn, all slowly making their way towards the Quidditch stadium behind the school. Draco briefly glance around searching for only one person. An older couple who had stopped to look at a cluster of unusual flowers continued on after appeasing their curiosity, clearing the path for his gaze to find what he was looking for.
Joy swelled up inside of him at the sight of those beloved, brown curls. He took a step forward eagerly then immediately halted in his tracks. The love of his life was being held tenderly in the arms of another man, her serene face smiling up at the intruder.
A painful twisting in his gut had Draco putting a hand over his abdomen protectively. Surely agony this great meant his guts were spilling out onto the well-manicured grounds at his feet. The pain caused his body to hunch over and tears to well up in his eyes. He took several gasping, deep breaths, angrily brushing away the moisture from his cheeks.
To protect his broken heart, Draco reached inside, pulling out all of his anger and misery from the last few months. He released his rage like a beast, focusing its ire on Hermione. The need to inflict emotional damage in retaliation for his own pain overrode everything else. He wasn't even aware of what words were coming out of his mouth, only that he wanted them to HURT.
He refused to acknowledge the rapidly paling pallor of her beautiful face, trembling of her legs, or the wounded look in her eyes. He needed every ounce of her misery to salve his own emotional wounds. Relentlessly, he continued until Hermione's whole body jerked, her eyes rolled back, and the smallest pitiful sound escaped her lips.
"No."
Then, the world exploded.
Draco was thrown back at least ten feet and landed hard on his back. He blinked up at the vivid blue sky above him as he struggled to gasp in air. Rolling on his side, he could see people running across the lawn in their direction, Severus Snape leading the way. The Potions Professor's was twisted into an expression of fear and horror, but he wasn't looking at Draco.
Using his elbow as leverage, he pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position. The blast caused his ears to ring and made his vision spin for a few moments. Draco shook his head to clear the haze.
Snape had stopped a short distance away. A house elf popped next to him and handed the Professor a small jar. Another short, barked order and the elf was gone once again. The man snapped at nearby onlookers to back up. Unscrewing the lid of the jar and tossing it to the ground, Snape poured some of its contents into his cupped palm. The glittery powder sparkled in his hand as he began to take slow, cautious steps forward.
Draco blinked in confusion, turning his gaze away from his godfather back to where Hermione had been.
Fear had him scrambling backwards across the grass like a frightened crab. Hermione, or what had been Hermione, was floating slightly off the ground. Magic flowing out of her body like flames, wild and brilliant. It whipped her hair around in the air giving the impression that it was alive and frantic. Her eyes were no longer chocolate brown. They had become glowing orbs of bright amber light and were zeroed in on Draco.
Her features were calm and placid at first, however, as the seconds ticked by, her lips began to tighten, and her brow furrowed.
"No!" The word came from her mouth but had an echoing, otherworldly tone to it that was nothing like her normal voice.
Viktor had managed to get to his feet. He, too, had been thrown back in the initial blast. He stumbled toward Hermione, rasping out her name. Her magic flared out, throwing him away again, but she never took her eyes from Draco.
Meanwhile, Snape had managed to get close to her by coming up from behind. When he was within about five feet, the professor lifted his cupped palm and blew hard, sending the glittery powder directly into Hermione's face.
That got her attention. She whipped her head around to Snape, her eyes now an inflamed red in color. Raising an arm in the air, she seemed determined to strike down this threat.
Snape threw his arms out to the side in a protective gesture of the people huddled behind him. He gulped, murmuring a quiet, "Oh, shit."
The hand raised in anger faltered and she blinked her eyes, once slowly and then again, before crumpling to the ground in a heap. The fierce flames of magic fluttered out and all was still.
Snape immediately knelt beside her, moving the hair away from her face and checking her vitals.
"What the FUCK was that!" Draco roared out. Snape shot him a glare.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed, you nitwit?" Snape snapped at his godson. "For crying out loud, Draco! Put yourself out."
Draco looked down to notice his clothes were indeed on fire in several places. With a curse, he frantically patted out the small flames on his cloak. He even had to lick his fingers to extinguish a particularly stubborn ember.
Viktor had picked himself up again and was now on his knees at Hermione's side, clutching her limp hand in his own. He was whispering anxiously to Snape.
The potions professor quietly asked the Bulgarian a couple of questions. Upon hearing Krum's answer, he nodded, saying out loud, "That explains things."
"Well, maybe you could EXPLAIN it to me!" Draco howled.
"Apparently, you not only irritate Ms. Granger, but you have the unique ability to piss off even her unborn child, Draco. That is quite the accomplishment."
"Child?" Draco croaked out. "Hermione is pregnant?" He shot to his feet and, with wand drawn, advanced on Viktor. "Get up Krum! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Snape grumbled, rising to his feet. He poured more powder into his hand, stomped over, and blew it straight into Draco's face.