Chapter 2: D is for Draco, or What about Narcissa…

Darling Draco…

Hermione came up with many inventive monikers for her childhood nemesis, Draco Malfoy, over the past seven years. A darling was most certainly not among them. Not until recently. It didn't even matter how Hermione thought of Draco.

Hermione recalled his taunts.

Darling Draco… sneered her mind with endless sarcasm.

Hermione contemplated the impossible bar his father must have held him to.

Darling Draco… sighed her mind sympathetically.

Hermione thought of his upcoming trial.

Darling Draco… piped up her mind anxiously.

The foreign phrase mocked her. It was the first odd wording that came to mind after her epiphany in Gryffindor common room several days ago.

It had to be a clue. Whatever other rhymes Lestrange tied to the curse in her arm, at least one of them involved Draco.

Bellatrix was protective of Narcissa. Hermione had a faint scar on her cheek from the witch's ring to remind her of that. And Narcissa was protective of Draco.

Logically, knowing the caster, the rhyme most likely commanded her to either protect Draco, or to keep her Muggle-born ideas away from him.

Court hearings for all three Malfoys were wrapping up in the next few days. Narcissa's outcome was almost guaranteed to be a pardon or something symbolic and very light. The outcomes for Lucius and Draco were uncertain and a popular subject of public speculation and underground betting.

When the young witch wasn't helping to clean Hogwarts grounds, to collect potion ingredients and living plants for the destroyed labs and greenhouses, or to test the castle's wards, Hermione slept. She hoped to remember more of Bellatrix's words during the torture. She wasn't too successful yet. After all, Hermione spent a great deal of time until very recently doing exactly the opposite!

…less than two won't do…

...my pet...

…baby flower…

The new phrases in the taunting singsong she was able to retain from the previous night only confused her more. The my pet was most definitely not from Hermione's vocabulary. The baby flower made no sense, unless it was a baby and a flower as in Draco and Narcissa?.. It didn't sound accurate. In her head there wasn't an and or a period between the two words. Really, baby flower sounded more like Neville's sentiment than Lestrange's.

Draco was going to be the test case for Hermione's theory about her cursed wound and how to fix it.

Even if her theory was wrong, helping Draco felt like the right thing to do. Malfoy was a snake and was smart enough to be close to her in most classes. Yet, he proved to be a very inept villain. Hermione suspected some of the failures were on purpose. The young wizard was a prat, but he didn't deserve to rot in Azkaban.

The new phrases brought confusion instead of clarity.

The less than two won't do seemed to order helping at least two people... but there were three Malfoys. Did she have to help all three if opportunity allowed? Bellatrix would want to save her sister, not her brother-in-law. Could Hermione then ignore Lucius circumstances completely or would she be punished if there was an opportunity to help and she chose to do nothing?..

Bellatrix's nature didn't spell mercy for honest mistakes… The curse's failsafe for disobedience, if it existed, would most likely be very regrettable...

Take the Urn or face defeat
Grab and run or drown beneath…

Bellatrix was quite literal in the first rhyme.

Hermione really needed to remember!

'...Mione, Mione!' She looked up at Ron and Harry..

Both were eyeing her worryingly.

'Are you alright? You've been lost in thought… and rubbing your arm for some time… Does it still hurt?'

The young witch firmed her mouth and shook her head.

Of course, it still hurt. It even still leaked droplets of blood. It did so often enough that Hermione started bandaging the wound, and casting glamor over the bandages in order to avoid the embarrassment of stained clothing and the inevitable concern from strangers and friends alike.

'I barely notice it most of the time… Just a silly habit now… really…' She shrugged. 'Harry won't you reconsider-'

Harry said the only Malfoy he would speak for was Narcissa. Not even Narcissa's own begging to only help Draco if there was to be just one person helped swayed him.

'No, Hermione!' Harry repeated stubbornly. 'Look, Malfoy is a prat!'

'But he had to know it was you, Harry, at the Manor! He did the right thing!'

'So what! You were tortured and he did nothing! Nothing! The little bit he did do doesn't excuse all that he didn't!'

Hermione paused at her best friend's anger. That was the real reason he refused to help Draco.

Hermione decided against telling Harry and Ron of her plans. It was definitely better to just apologize after the fact in this particular case.

'He was not the one doing the torture, Harry…' She reminded him. 'You don't know if anything he could have done would have even helped.'

Hermione contacted Draco's solicitor the evening before the hearing, and was added to his list of Draco's witnesses at the last moment.

Ron and Harry were not happy but Hermione was determined.

For almost an hour she listed all things she could remember that Draco did to help fight Voldemort. Some occasions were truly up for interpretation by whoever was presenting. Even Draco shot her a surprised look or two during those examples.

And then, to her alarm, the strength of her conviction in Draco's good character was put to a test.

'Would you vouch for Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger?'

So she did! Hermione Granger vouched for Draco Malfoy's good heart.

Darling Draco... sang her brain happily.

I am going mad... stated her brain right after.

Draco was given a year to show that he was not a public menace. Hermione now had the obligation to meet him once a week to ascertain his commitment to good character and to report to the court monthly on the same.

A couple of hours later, around the time that Draco departed the Ministry as a mostly free person, the end letter of Hermione's cursed wound faded into a regular thin D shaped scar.

For the whole day Hermione was ecstatic. She was sure she had a way to rid her flesh of Bellatrix's mad curse. She simply needed to sleep more and recall more clues. That, and hope that Bellatrix's instructions were reasonable enough to follow.

She insisted on joining Harry at the Narcissa Malfoy trial in support of Narcissa. She carefully avoided looking at the blonde witch.

And she fully expected one more letter to turn into a normal scar. B for Black or maybe M for Malfoy.

Yet nothing happened. All bloody letters remained bloody.

Narcissa was free and out of Ministry custody, with no punishment whatsoever. Maybe the curse knew that Harry's testimony was enough to help Narcissa. Maybe because Hermione was not essential to the good outcome that didn't count.

Ginny wanted to be present at Lucius Malfoy's hearing. So Harry, Hermione, and Ron went there too, to support her. Since Lucius was the most prolific wrongdoer of his family, even the last stages of his trial ran longer than Narcissa's or Draco's. The testimonies droned on and on for hours. Hermione's eyes kept trying to close and stay closed every five minutes.

'Mione, wake up!' Someone called to her.

...Hermione whimpered. She was beyond screaming. Her arm was on fire. Yet that didn't appear to be enough for the dark witch pinning her to the floor.

Darling Draco, his dumb dad,
Aussies'll taste their fate, my pet.

'Hermione, wake up!' Someone called her again and even shook her shoulder.

'Does anyone wish to testify for the defense' Echoed somewhere far away.

..Kill just one, you're killing two…

Giggled the witch in her ear as the agony shot through her arm once more...

'Hermione!' Someone was shaking her shoulder. 'Wake- oh good!'

Hermione jerked awake, the mismatched sentences were now arranged into a complete rhyme.

Darling Draco, his dumb dad,
Aussies'll taste their fate, my pet.
Kill just one you're killing two,
Saving less than two won't do.

'Sorry... You were moaning almost loud enough to be heard over Narcissa's testimony. Do you want to step out? It's almost over.' Ron whispered in her ear. 'Harry can stay with Gin- bloody hell, you arm!'

Aussies'll taste their fate…

Surely, Lestrange didn't mean… how could she know about her parents… Hermione didn't dare to leave it to fate!

'Hermione, your arm is bleeding!'

Hermione noticed absentmindedly the bloody M DBLOO soaking through her arm wrappings and her sleeve. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment.

'If there is no more character witnesses-'

Hermione jumped up.

'Your honor, I wish to testify on Mr. Malfoy's behalf!'

It was a relief that no one asked her to vouch for Lucius Malfoy. She wasn't sure she would go that far in her helpfulness.

The Death Eater was sentenced to life-long house arrest with an opportunity for review in 10 year time, the confiscation of half of his fortune, the removal of controversial books, artifacts, and other items from the Manor, prohibition of ever holding a role of influence, and a number of additional 'reforming' and 'monitoring' activities and tasks.

Ginny stormed out of the court chambers with a wounded look about her. Harry rushed after her. Ron muttered a should have let you sleep, gave her a look full of confusion, and ran after Ginny and Harry.

Hermione felt like a deer in the headlights as she noticed Mrs. Malfoy heading her way. She wanted to faint, or to run, or to claim falling victim to a rogue Obliviate spell...

'I am so very thankful, Miss Granger.' Mrs. Malfoy said quietly as she stepped very close and squeezed Hermione's hand.

Kiss me like this is the last time you kiss anyone, echoed in Narcissa's whisper in Hermione's mind. She could almost feel the witch, small and trembling, in her embrace. A silly illusion. It wouldn't even feel the same with her in her own body.

She forced her eyes to look into Narcissa's.

The witch's eyes held no recognition beyond the polite acknowledgement of a war hero, and the gratitude for what she had done for her family.

'Even if I don't understand the reasons behind your actions.' Narcissa continued in the same quiet voice. 'I will never forget what you've done for Draco... what you agreed to keep doing for him. And, it is a relief to know Lucius will not have to spend years in Azkaban.'

Hermione realized, with a good deal of surprise, that Bellatrix didn't reveal the Polyjuiced imposter's identity to her sister.

A day passed, and then another, and another... And yet, nothing changed about Hermione's scar. All bleeding letters except for U and for D were accounted for.

The only thing her stunt at Lucius Malfoy trial did is to seriously damage her relationships.

First, she received a red envelope.

'HOW DARE YOU PROTECT THAT MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD' shouted the angry letter in Molly Weasley's voice. 'YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN MY HOUSE ANYMORE, HERMIONE GRANGER!' echoed through the mostly empty Gryffindor tower. 'NOT WELCOME!'

Draco chose to reside in the empty Slytherin dungeons for the summer. Hermione was certain even he heard Molly.

Soon after it became obvious that Ginny wasn't talking to her; and that Ron and Harry looked at her as if she was possessed; and even Headmistress McGonagall apparently had her doubts. The old witch tried a Finite Incantatem and ordered Hermione to drink some vile potion. When nothing noticeable happened with either measure, the old witch gave her a thoughtful look, but thankfully let it go.

As even more time passed Hermione's spirits fell. The fading of D after Draco's trial must have been just a fluke.

Almost a month passed since that fateful trial hearing, when an internationally stamped envelope appeared in her bookbag. The letter was magically forwarded by the charm she placed on her parents house's mailbox. A letter was from her primary school friend, Peter, who resided in Melbourne since before Hermione learned she was a witch.

"Dear Hermione!

Hope all is well? I wish you'll already get a number or an email address, so I could contact you easier instead of doing this old-fashioned paper writing! That is so 1960s!
I've found those Wilkinses you asked me to look for. At least I think it's them. I know, I know, I'm awesome. Actually, no, not really, they've simply been in the local papers recently.
Illegal fishing or hunting or something. The wife has been released with reprimand, and the husband made a deal with the authorities. He got off with fines, community service and some environmental classes.

Your oldest friend,
Pan-cake

P.S.: Those Wilkinses, especially the dude, look a lot like your parents! Are they family? Do you need me to approach them?"

Several days later, her wound spotted three faded letters instead of two, U, L, and D. The Prophet reported that day that Lucius Malfoy was finally moved to his ancestral home.

End of Chapter 2