Amusement bubbled from within the back of Hermione's throat as she slipped into her newly acquired room. Silver and green was draped along the walls and canopy of the bed. A desk was shoved against the wall, the mahogany unmarred and shiny, even in the dim lighting. There was a dresser settled near the door and a side table on the left side of the mattress.
It was perfect.
Severus knows me rather well, Hermione mused, settling her truck at the foot of the bed.
"You may change the decorations," Severus murmured, passing her a brass key, "I merely fixed the Slytherin draperies." There was a twinkle in his eye and she knew he'd left the decorations purposefully.
Minerva hummed in displeasure, but said nothing.
"We shall leave you to unpack your belongings. You are still expected for classes tomorrow," he said sternly, though it held no real malice; it was only for appearances nowadays – nothing more.
"I will have an elf bring you dinner. I believe it would be best for everyone if you didn't roam the halls tonight," Minerva added, patting Hermione's arm.
The smile tugging her lips was evidently forced, but the Gryffindor Head of House was oblivious to her discomfort. "Of course. I understand."
Minerva clearly wished to say more, but a gentle tap on her arm snapped her jaw closed and Hermione was grateful. The adrenaline had drained away, leaving her utterly spent. Another conversation would only strain her already frayed nerves.
"Enjoy your evening, Miss Riddle."
She waved half-heartedly to the professors as they left before surveying her new quarters. The colors splashed about the room reminded her greatly of home – and while she was appreciative, it made her minutely homesick. All she could think of was being wrapped up in her lover's arms, the sheets tangling their legs and a scent so purely Bella that she could taste it on the tip of her tongue.
At least I can sleep without the fear of being hexed in my sleep.
Waving her hand, the trunk clicked open. She absently began situating her belongings along the dresser and desk, though she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for the news to spread – and what exactly would be said.
As a child, Hermione had dreamed of a faraway world; being swept into a magical land where all of her wildest dreams could be achieved. She loved learning, but there was something alluring about fantasy novels – of heroes and heroines conquering the unknown.
Every book she'd ever read, there was the protagonist – the hero – and the antagonist – the bringer of destruction and darkness. The people would look to the hero; would rely on them when all hell broke loose. They would lead them into the fray and, despite all odds, the good would conquer, defeating the antagonist in an epic showdown that was unrealistic, but it was still a victory none the less.
She'd always imagined being a part of that. That she, Hermione, could do good for the world. She never wanted to be the heroine; no, the idea of glory and fame did not interest her. She simply wanted to help. She wanted to a piece of a finished puzzle – to be an edge while the hero remained front and center. She wanted to give them structure. But, it had only been the daydream of a child's overactive mind, an escape from reality - an impossibility.
Until it wasn't.
Her acceptance letter had been startling but oh so enlightening. Maybe she wasn't as peculiar or childish as she'd thought. That maybe this was a sign she was destined for more. She never once thought that the something "more" would be so convoluted.
After helping Harry during their first year, she'd accepted the part she would play in life. She would be the brains behind the brawn – the madness – that, inadvertently, they'd become the center of. Keeping him alive was what drove her to excel – to be the best she could be. His life was hanging in the balance of a war they knew little about and if pushing herself kept him alive, then she'd rather die of exhaustion than watch him crumble beneath the weight of the world.
For Merlin's sake, she'd risked being sentenced to Azkaban just so Harry's godfather could live.
When her true heritage was brought into existence, Hermione was flabbergasted and horrified, their actions speaking louder than any words that could possibly be tossed carelessly at her, barbed with disgust and hatred. It planted a seed of doubt that had only bloomed into a thorn bush, especially after he (and the Order, really) turned his back on her and thrown her to proverbial wolves. Was her life really worth so little to those around her? That all of her blood, sweat and tears had meant nothing?
Even worse, was she becoming the antagonist of Harry's story?
Or was he and the Order becoming hers?
A timid knock on the door startled Hermione from her thoughts and she glanced about. All of her clothes and books were neatly tucked away, her mother's hidden in her trunk along with the charmed ink and quill Bellatrix had provided her all those months ago.
Merlin, has it really been that long?
"Come in," she croaked, wincing at the brokenness of her voice. It was dry and ached, similar to whenever she cried. Touching her cheeks, she was thankful to find no tears residing there.
A familiar blonde mop of hair peeked through the door and relief flooded her system, reminding her vaguely of what it felt like to jump in a warm bath after playing in the snow. Shimmering blue caught her eye and she rushed to the door, collapsing into Draco's arms.
"H-how did you know where I am?"
Clearing his throat, Draco carefully guided the Gryffindor back into her room and kicked the door closed. He was pleased to find that Severus had not warded the room to keep out boys like the girls' dormitory did.
"Snape told me," he replied softly, stroking Hermione's hair comfortingly. "He thought you might need company."
Hiccupping slightly, Hermione nodded and buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Do you know?"
"Kind of," he shrugged, "But it's not really important right now. Are you okay?"
"It hurts," she whispered, clutching his robes as though it were the only anchor keeping her bolted to the ground.
"What does?" Running his hand along her spine, his face scrunched with displeasure. He would destroy Ronald Weasley if it was the last thing he did.
Hermione pressed a fist against her heart, unable to choke back a sob. "M-my heart."
Feeling his own shatter, Draco led Hermione to the new mattress and settled them onto the edge, gathering her into his lap and began rocking her the way his mother used to rock him when he had nightmares as a young boy.
I wish Mother or Aunt Bella is here…
-X-
My dear Panther,
I cannot wait for the term to end. If you have not yet heard, there was an incident with Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown yesterday. Do not worry, I was not harmed nor am I in trouble. I dealt with it accordingly until Professor Snape but Merlin…
But, I do have my own room now. It's quite nice. It's Slytherin colors, but I don't want to change them. It makes me feel closer to you. It's near the Slytherin common room and it's rather perfect for me. It's small, but it reminds me of our your room at the Manor. I cannot wait for summer break.
The upcoming OWLs have me on edge. I know I will do fine in Potions, but Defense Against the Dark Arts – well, I'm not sure how well I will do on those. With Umbridge's horrid teaching and everything going on behind the scenes…
It's leaving me unstable.
I know you and Father have faith in me, but I cannot help but worry. She is out to destroy us all, I truly believe. There has been little word on what's happening outside these walls and I hope you are staying safe. I need you to stay safe for me.
I love you endlessly,
Your Witch.
-X-
Realization slammed into Bellatrix like an angered Giant, her usual confident steps faltering. She'd been contemplating the book's passage for days yet she hadn't been able to piece together how those names were connected and why they sounded so bloody familiar.
Rushing to the manor's library, she shoved past Wormtail and threw open the door. Coming face to face with Lucius, her eyes widened in horror as she glanced over his shoulder and took note of her Master nestled into the chair.
"F-forgive me, my Lord. I h-had no idea you were here. I meant no disrespect; I would have never come in if I'd realized." She bowed her head submissively, awaiting her impending punishment.
Voldemort clicked his tongue, crimson eyes narrowing. But, the curious part of his mind wondered what had caused his most loyal to ignore Wormtail guarding the door. Usually, Bellatrix was never so rash in her observations. "What has you so preoccupied that you blatantly disregarded the obvious signs, Bellatrix?"
Without lifting her head, she replied, "I-I…"
"Spit it out, Bella," he snapped, "Before I no longer care."
"There is a book here, my Lord, which mentioned an ancient ritual pertaining to the soul bindings. It talks of two women that completed the spell before its subsequent outlawing and I was unaware until now why their names were so important and it left me distracted. I am deeply sorry, my Lord." She bit her lip, staring blankly at the ground.
Death Eaters had been punished for less and whatever he did, she accepted it with open arms. Mistakes have consequences and this was a horrible mistake on her part.
Tilting his head, the Dark Lord studied her. "Bring me this book."
Swallowing harshly, Bellatrix slipped around Lucius and hurriedly located the reason for her error in judgment. Flipping through the pages, she handed the book once the passage was found.
"Elizabeth and Faith were the last recorded soulmates," she explained, "Hermione had briefly mentioned them to me when she was reading her book on soulmates and it did not dawn on me until minutes ago. Soulmates are already bound and I cannot understand why they needed this ritual, so naturally I came to retrieve the book in hopes of understanding why it was necessary."
He remained silent, a finger tracing along the frail paper and ghosting over the faded print. His eyes were narrowed, contemplation draining away the remaining irritation that was lingering there.
"Well, this is a development." Thumbing the pages, he continued reading. "Give it some time; I shall see what I can learn. You are to gather all you can and report back to me whenever you find more."
"Y-yes, my Lord."
He returned the book to his most loyal, his lips quirked.
"I understand why this was urgent, but I cannot allow the others to believe I am showing favoritism or, should they be daring, think they can get away with something similar." Truthfully, he could understand Bellatrix's reaction, but knowing his followers, they'd see it as a sign of weakness and that was something he could not have. Yes, if they tried, they would be punished severely, but why give them a chance to try?
Bracing herself, Bellatrix's hands clenched at her side.
"Crucio!"
-X-
The Gryffindor table was silent as Hermione strolled confidently down the aisle, her books tucked to her chest and a brilliant smile adorning her supple lips. She'd slept better in the last week than she had in weeks, the anxiety threatening to suffocate her having all but dissipated into boldness. No longer was she wary of what her classmates would do while she was sleeping. She could handle herself just fine and still rest easy at night.
Settling across from Neville, she smiled brightly at the usually timid boy. "Good morning, Neville."
"Mornin', Mione," he greeted around a mouth full of food.
Grimacing, Hermione began filling her plate. She was accustomed to the sight, thanks to Ronald, but it still made her stomach flip with disgust.
A familiar body flopped into the seat beside her, a wild disarray of red locks coming into view. Groggily, the teenager snatched the toast from Hermione's hands and began nibbling on the corner, her eyes barely remaining open.
"Merlin, Gin, what's wrong with you?" Hermione inquired, taking another piece of bread from a nearby tray.
Waving her hand, Ginny took a larger bite from the buttery goodness and blindly gripped from a goblet of pumpkin juice. Gulping down a healthy swallow, the missing light from her eyes started shining through, chasing away the lingering sleep. Blinking slowly, she speared a sausage link and brought it to her lips.
"Between studying and ignoring Ron's awkward attempts at reconciling, I haven't been sleeping too much."
"You need to rest. You're going to burn out," Neville warned.
Breakfast continued on with quiet chatter, granting Ginny enough time to come alive. She devoured two plates' worth of food while Hermione barely finished one, though it wasn't surprising considering she was a Weasley. Swallowing the rest of her juice, Ginny felt replenished and ready to survive the day.
Hurried steps alerted the small group and they peered up in time to see Draco walking briskly toward them. "Good, you're all here. We must talk."
Sharing worried glances, they rose together and followed Draco out of the Great Hall and into a hallway.
"Professor Umbridge has finally uncovered where and when the DA is meeting. She plans to catch you in the act and bring you to Fudge as "proof" you're conspiring against the Ministry." The quotations would normally amuse Hermione, but the situation was too dire for her to find any laughter.
"Fuck," Ginny hissed, peeking over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. "What do we do?"
Hermione raised her hand, halting Draco's reply. "Does Umbridge have the list?"
"No, Harry still has it, I think," Neville mused. "It's tucked into his trunk. Why?"
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione exhaled slowly. "There is a jinx on the paper what will write SNEAK in boils along a person's forehead if they snitch. But, knowing the possibilities of what could go wrong, there is a way to erase everything from the list. If we can steal it away from him, we can strip it and I will keep it with me until it's over. If I'm not there, she can't suspect that I have it and, even if she finds it, it won't have anything incriminating on it."
"Seriously?" Ginny gaped at her friend, startled by her preparedness. She knew she shouldn't have been, but sometimes she overlooked the sheer brilliance that was Hermione J. G. Riddle.
That's what I get for underestimating her.
Nodding, Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "I knew there was a chance that Harry would kick me from the group whenever I told him what I knew, so I left a loophole, but it works on anyone who knows about it."
"That's bloody brilliant," Neville blurted, eyes widening. "No one else would have thought of that!"
Determination flashed across Ginny's face and she crossed her arms. "We'll," she waved at Neville, "Get the paper and bring it to you before the next meeting."
"When is the next meeting?" Hermione wondered absently.
"Friday."
"She's planning to bombard the group when everyone is already inside. She wants to catch you in the act – to make the theory more plausible. I think she's so far up Fudge's arse she'd believe anything he said, especially if it awarded her a higher position in the Ministry."
"Is there any way we can warn the DA?" Ginny questioned, worrying her bottom lip thoughtfully. Her brother was an absolute git, but she didn't want any of the other members to suffer.
Except maybe Lavender. Seeing her in Umbridge's claws would be so bloody funny.
Draco shook his head, much to her dismay. "If the meeting is suddenly cancelled, she'll become suspicious and then all of our heads will be on the line. Besides, she will still have the informant's word. Fudge will find any reason he can to sack Dumbledore. There's no way to save everyone even with that list of yours staying with Hermione. The only people you can definitely protect are yourselves." It was a sad truth and Draco hated to be the bearer of bad news, but it was the inevitability of war and madness. Every man for himself.
Ginny's face dropped. "Oh."
"I know it sucks," Draco said, patting Ginny's arm comfortingly, "But there's only so much that can be done without incriminating yourself. Besides," he mused, "I'm willing to bet that Umbridge isn't going to really care about the others. She's after Dumbledore and Potter; the others are just casualties."
"What do you mean?"
Rubbing the crease of his brow, he sighed. "Professor Umbridge is gunning for Dumbledore's job – that much is obvious. But, she has a huge hatred for Potter; not that I blame her. She thinks he should be locked up in Azkaban for the rest of his life because of his belief that the Dark Lord is alive. She's buying into the rubbish Fudge is spouting and she's so willing to do anything for him that she'll destroy anybody in her way."
"Wait, Harry might go to Azkaban for this?" Hermione balked, eyes widened with dismay.
The image of Harry tucked into the corner of a cell, no light and unimaginable horrors surrounding him, was sickening. She could envision him slumped forward, frail and weak like Sirius had been, with dust and soot staining his pale face. She'd heard the stories – had cried over the thought of Bellatrix lying in that hellhole for fifteen years, withering away and losing her sanity – well, what was left of it.
In her heart, she knew her father's tampering of Bellatrix's record would never save her from returning but the gesture had been kind – he'd wanted Hermione happy and less terrified of her lover being hunted down, caught in their home. She'd lose not only Bella, but her entire "family" if that happened; harboring a fugitive was as illegal in the wizarding world as it was in the muggle world. Her crimes were still widespread and everyone knew who she was. She'd never be free; not unless He won the war. He'd only ensured that no harm would come to Narcissa and Lucius.
"I don't know if he can be imprisoned but Potter's good at avoiding serious consequences so maybe he'll get lucky." Draco shrugged noncommittally.
Ginny's hands were clenched, enraged by this woman's maniacal scheme to ruin Harry's life. She may have her issues with him, but she'd never wish Azkaban on anyone.
"All you can do is hope luck is on Potter's side. He's going to need it."
-X-
It was Thursday night when the parchment was tossed into her lap, Ginny beaming victoriously. Her arms were crossed and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"We got it."
"I can see that," Hermione laughed, grasping the paper and unrolling it. "How'd you manage it?"
Hopping into the nearest chair, Ginny kicked her feet up onto the table. "I distracted Harry because," she couldn't contain her giggle, "While he likes Cho, if I flirt with him, he'll blank out. While we were talking, Neville sneaked up to their room and found the list. Boys are dumb."
"Devious." Hermione smirked at the proud Gryffindor.
She tried to avoid thinking about the DA as much as she could, but it stung knowing they'd casted her aside so effortlessly. Gripping her wand, her lips formed inaudible words and she slid it along her signature. It slowly dissolved, leaving a blank where it had once resided. She brushed her free hand along the bare space and sighed. Repeating the process, she continued removing names and before she knew it, all traces that it'd ever existed was gone. It was up to Harry now; she'd done what she could to protect them, even though she owed them absolutely nothing. They were in the hands of Harry Potter and Ronald, a terrifying thought.
Merlin help them all. They'll need all the help they can get.