A/N:
***Points to D for being patient with me and my random ramblings and my pseudo-pneumonia (I'm fine!). Read her stories: she writes as DracoDew17.
**Special thanks to helly120 for pointing out my subtle plot-flaws and showing me the inconsistencies that I'd overlooked. ::tears up:: My ever-faithful date-watcher! Thanks, helly! (PS- hope you don't mind that I stole your name…)
**THANKS TO: Hermione18, maxziod, DracoDew17 (always and several times), Sila-Chan, f0xyness39, Ashby, heavengurl899, Jen Drake, Lulu 81, MythzNFantasyZ17, Emma, sakura1287, helly120, CrystallineLily, and ?charmed_pixies?. ::squeals again:: I LOVE reviews
*A special loving hug goes to: maxziod, f0xyness39, heavengurl899,
Lulu81, sakura1287 and OF COURSE, DracoDew17, for their multiple reviews*
***Many points to all who review with constructive criticism… (hint hint wink wink nudge nudge)***
Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to J.K Rowling, Warner Bros, and all those other people who would consider suing poor penniless me. Thanks to the Counting Crows for the use of their lyrics and to Maya for the use of the "sweet caffeineated lover" line and the cuddling of coffee line.
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Anna Begins: Part 2
****************
Wrap her up in a package of lies…
Because if you don't want to talk about it
Then it isn't love
And I guess I'm gonna have to live with that
But I'm sure there's
Something in a shade of grey,
Or something in between
And I can always change my name,
If that's what you mean…
-Counting Crows
**************
Hermione woke up the next morning, 1 January 1997, in someone else's bed. When she'd opened her eyes, the familiar red-gold drapes of her bed were nowhere to be seen. Instead, silver velvet drapes were pulled close around the bed, blocking out any sunlight. She could still see enough, however, to notice two very important things: that there was a green velvet dragon emblazoned on the drapes and that she was not alone in this strange bed.
Draco stirred beside her but didn't wake up.
She lay motionless on the bed for a few seconds. She had just spent the night in the bed of Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who, less than two weeks ago, was her mortal enemy. Draco Malfoy, who had been taking care of her, who had kissed her so tenderly, who had tucked her into bed so gently and held her through the night. The only person she could honestly say now that she could turn to for anything. How strange life was. It threw her such curve-balls; Draco being most definitely the least of them.
Her parents. She thought perhaps that she ought to owl them, but no… she wouldn't. They wouldn't—couldn't help her now. She owed it to them to owl them and let them know what was going on, but honestly, it more that they owed it to her. They should be the ones that contacted her. Anyway, the Inquest was tomorrow. She would be moving on from her Muggle upbringing and into the arms of her true family. The family that, she hoped, would accept her for her, regardless. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it? Was it, Mum? Was it, Dad? You could never do it. You could never do such a simple thing as just accept me.
Hermione sighed. Draco, in his sleep, drew her closer. She willingly snuggled into his arms. This was so pleasant. Just the two of them, here like this. It really was a pity they had to get up at all. But she had decided that it would be best if she left for London today and spent the night there, as the Inquest was at eight in the morning the next day. Thinking of time, Hermione raised herself on her elbows and looked for Draco's clock. An antique miniature grandfather clock, maybe about a foot high, stood on his mahogany nightstand. It read ten A.M.
Draco, aroused by Hermione's leaving the circle of his arms, slid an arm around her waist and put his chin on her shoulder. She smiled and fell back onto the bed, with Draco hovering over her, now supported lazily by his own elbow.
"Good morning," he said quietly.
"Good morning, Draco," she replied. And then she laughed.
"What?"
"I was just thinking… what would my mother say if she knew I spent the night in Draco Malfoy's bed?" Her eyes twinkled.
"She'd say, 'Well done, Hermione! Not only is he handsome, charming, well-bred, smart and perfect in every possible way, he's rich! Good job!'" replied Draco, without blinking.
Hermione laughed gaily.
Draco smiled at her, reveling in the happy and content look on her face. He knew that tomorrow would be the beginning of a very difficult period for her. And he was glad that he could make her smile now.
He got up gracefully, and stood next the bed. Hermione couldn't help but notice that every hair on his head was perfectly in place and that there was not a single wrinkle in his clothes, despite the fact that's he'd slept in them.
"Come on, then," he said, "Let's get to breakfast. I'm three hours late for my first pot of coffee."
Hermione rolled her eyes. It was a well known fact around the castle that Draco Malfoy's true love was caffeine, as had been displayed that day last year when Pansy Parkinson had tried to come between Draco and his first cup of the day. Pansy had spent an unfortunate six months as a three-eyed purple fish before Madam Pomfrey thought it was safe to try a counter-curse.
She attempted to straighten her hair and clothes as they made their way upstairs to the Great Hall. It was deserted, which Hermione thought was a blessing. She really didn't want to face Ron's taunts or Harry's disappointed face this early in the morning. Draco made a beeline for the Slytherin table, where a steaming pot of black coffee waited for him. He poured it into a mug the size of a large soup bowl and took a deep swig.
"Ahh, my sweet caffeineated lover," he breathed. "Oh, how I missed you. Oh, how I adore you. Oh, my one true love! Caffeine, caffeine, wherefore art thou, caffeine?" His almost-incoherent mutterings drew Hermione to the table she so abhorred.
When she heard him whispering poetry to his coffee cup, however, she decided that it might just be safer to have her meal at the Gryffindor table.
When he was halfway through his third pot of coffee, Draco managed to tear himself away from his life-giving liquid and notice that Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet by herself at the Gryffindor table. He filled his gargantuan coffee cup to the very top and cuddled it to him as he crossed the floor.
Hermione looked up from the paper as Draco elegantly draped himself over the chair next to her.
He smiled dashingly at her.
"What is it?" she said patiently.
"Well," he said slowly, taking a long drink from his precious mug. "I was thinking… that you may not want to travel all the way to London by yourself…"
Hermione looked surprised at his offer. "Would you really go with me?" she asked.
All seriousness now, Draco nodded. "Of course, Hermione."
Then he inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of his coffee. "After," he said, "I finish my coffee."
"Oh, yes," said Hermione rolling her eyes again, "I need to sort my priorities." She shook her head at Draco, sadly. He didn't notice her, as he was stroking his coffee cup with loving tenderness.
************
She trooped back up to Gryffindor Tower and found it thankfully empty. A quick look out the window told her that the other Gryffindors were outside, having a very involved snowball fight.
She packed swiftly, including everything she thought she might need for the next two days. It didn't take her long. She carted her small trunk down the tower stairs and into the entryway of the Great Hall. Draco's things were already there, a house-elf standing obediently next to them.
Hermione frowned and walked over the elf. "Hello," she said pleasantly.
The house-elf, unlike most of its peers, did not shrink away from her. "Hello, Miss," it said.
Hermione, unsure of what to do, said, "Oh, please, call me Hermione."
"Yes, Miss Hermione," replied the elf.
"What's your name?" asked Hermione after a short pause. "Are you a Hogwarts elf?"
"Helly is my name, Miss," said the elf. "And Helly is no longer a Hogwarts elf. Helly has been working for Master Malfoy for almost a year, Miss. Helly is only working when Master Malfoy is needing Helly; which is not very often, Miss."
Hermione nodded at the elf's matter-of–fact answers. But her curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "Where do you live, Helly?"
"Oh, Helly is living with Helly's family, Miss. Helly's mother and father is Hogwarts elves. Helly is living with them here. Master Malfoy is not needing Helly when Master Malfoy is at Malfoy Manor. Helly has only been to Malfoy Manor once, Miss, to deliver Master Malfoy to his mother when he was ill."
"Ah, yes. That bout he had with pneumonia last year. I remember," said Hermione, smiling gently down at Helly.
The elf looked stoutly up at her.
"And are you happy with Draco? Does he treat you well?" Hermione seriously disliked the thought that Draco owned a house-elf, particularly after her experience with Dobby, the Malfoy's old house-elf.
"Oh, yes, Miss, Master Malfoy is most pleasant. He does not ask Helly to work more than necessary, Miss, but that does not bother Helly. Helly likes work, Miss, but Helly also likes to be with her family. Helly can do both while she is owned by Master Malfoy."
Hermione had never heard of students' personal elves before. "And how did Draco come to… erm—acquire you, Helly?" She wondered fleetingly if maybe she was being a bit severe in her questioning. But no house-elf had ever given her such straight answers before. She was moved by her curiosity.
"Helly was a present from Miss Calabria to Master Malfoy last year, Miss. And Miss Calabria asked Professor Dumbledore-Sir if Helly could work for Master Malfoy. And Professor Dumbledore-Sir, he said that Helly could if Helly wanted to. And so, Helly was bought by Miss Calabria."
The little elf paused.
"So, Draco's sister bought you," prompted Hermione.
"Yes, Miss. Miss Calabria was most nice. She gave me to Master Malfoy for his birthday last year. Master Malfoy is most nice to Helly as well. Helly likes Master very much, indeed. Although, if Helly's honest opinion is asked, Helly does not think that Master Malfoy needs all of these belongings. " The little elf looked at the four trunks that Draco had piled in the Hall.
Hermione smiled at Helly as Draco himself came up the staircase, another trunk in tow. "I think that does it, Helly," he said decisively. "Hullo, Hermione. All packed?"
"Yes, quite," she answered. "Draco, have you spoken with the Headmaster?"
"Oh, yes, I spoke with him shortly after breakfast and he sees no problem with the arrangements as long as Helly here is chaperoning. He has been asked to be present at the Inquest tomorrow anyway, you know. But he requested that I tell you that he has a few things he need to take care of today and he regrets that he cannot travel with us. As it is, he is Apparating from Platform 9 ¾ tomorrow."
"Oh, that will be lovely," replied Hermione, glad to have her Headmaster there to support her.
"He gave me our tickets for the train," said Draco, producing them in a businesslike manner.
"I was wondering how we were getting to London," admitted Hermione.
"Ah, yes, Professor Dumbledore made the arrangements for one of the carriages to pick us up and take us to Platform 9 ¾. From there, we take the train to Diagon Alley and from the Leaky Cauldron into London. I was under the impression that you have made arrangements, with the er—Muggle side of it," Draco looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
Hermione sighed and shook her head. However much Draco wanted to practice equality, he couldn't truly seem to grasp the idea that Muggles did not carry some infectious deadly disease. Some things would never change.
"Yes. We're set as to hotel arrangements as long as you know where the Ministry Offices are…" Hermione highly suspected that they were Unplottable, because she had been unable to find any map that had shown her where they were.
"Of course I do," Draco said haughtily. He looked affronted.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him again and began to lug her trunk towards the door.
"Is that all you're bringing?" Draco asked incredulously.
Hermione looked at Draco questioningly. "What do you mean, 'Is that all I'm bringing'? This is all I need."
"But- but—how? How can you only need one suitcase?" Draco looked genuinely puzzled.
Hermione just laughed and opened her trunk for a last-minute check. "Draco? I need to run back up to the Tower for something…"
"Fine, fine," he replied distractedly, giving his fifth trunk a measuring look. He flipped it open and began to dig through it. "Aha! Just as I suspected; still back in the Common Room. Right then, Hermione, I've got to grab something I've left behind as well, so… ten minutes?"
Hermione nodded and the two of them went their separate ways, leaving Helly to manage Draco's trunks.
*************
Hermione flew up the stairs, thinking as she went of packing another trunk entirely. Does Draco honestly think we'll need that much stuff? Better safe than sorry.
She gave the Fat Lady the password and strode into a full Common Room.
Ron and the girl from Hogsmeade, Hannah, were playing chess. Harry was reading Quidditch Through The Ages, Volume Two for the seventh time and Ginny was doing some last-minute Transfiguration homework. Parvati and Lavendar were arguing over the astrology charts spread in front of them. Lavendar's sister was casting a lazy eye over the charts herself and making minor adjustments that neither her sister nor Parvati noticed. Everyone looked up as Hermione entered the Common Room.
"Well, well, well," said Ron from the floor. "Look who turned up..."
Hermione blushed. "Just because you haven't seen me here doesn't mean I haven't been here, Ron Weasley."
"Well," put in Lavendar, suddenly, "We know you weren't in your bed last night, Hermione..."
Hermione pursed her lips. "It really is none of anyone's business where I was last night."
Ginny stood up from the table and said in a voice much like her mother's most ferocious, "That's right. Now leave her be!"
Everyone stared at her and she glared right back at them. "What Hermione does is her own business!"
"Thank you, Ginny," said Hermione as she made her way up to the dormitory.
Ginny followed her. Someone would get answers in this Tower.
Hermione bustled around, packing another trunk very similar to the one Helly was currently loading onto Draco's horseless carriage.
"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively. "What are you doing?"
"Gin, you know I'm going to London today. I'm packing."
"Oh, yes, I'd almost forgotten," she said as she looked sheepishly at her best friend. She paused. "Hermione, are you sure you want to go alone? I'd be more—"
"I'm not going alone," interrupted Hermione.
"…than happy to go wi—what?" Ginny said.
"I said, I'm not going alone," replied Hermione, coloring slightly.
"Wha- what do you mean?"
"Draco's going with me."
"What?!"
"Draco is going to go with me. His mother owled him and he's going to go visit them. He's just traveling with me, really," Hermione said, not blinking. She felt bad about lying to Ginny, but the redhead would freak out if she knew that Draco was going simply to be with Hermione. Hermione stood in the middle of her room, knowing that she was forgetting something. Then she remembered that she wanted to pack her slippers, and continued flitting around her room.
"Is he going to the Inquest?" asked Gin, still disbelieving.
"Well, I don't know. He may just drop me off at Platform 9 ¾ and then go on to Malfoy Manor…" Hermione lied quickly. She snapped her trunk shut
Gin grabbed Hermione's wrist and forced the older girl to stay still for a moment.
"Hermione."
Hermione wrung her hands nervously, but didn't answer.
"Hermione, what is going on? You're never like this. You seem so distracted. And what is with you and Malfoy? I know he's generally a nice guy, but do you really think it's OK to spend so much time with him?"
"Oh, Ginny," said Hermione as she sunk to the floor. "I'm so worried; I don't know if I'm what these people want… if I can live up to their standards… I mean, they're one of the oldest pure-blooded families in the wizarding world!"
"Hermione," said Gin, reproachfully, "Honey, do you think that they even care? They lost you when you were just a baby! Don't you think that they'd just be happy to have you back with them?"
Hermione, tears now falling silently, sniffed. "I suppose…"
"And as to the pure-blood thing: Hermione, the Spencers are the oldest family in Britain, followed by the Malfoys. But do you know who the third oldest family in Britain is?"
"Who?" asked Hermione, halfheartedly, blowing her nose.
"Us. Me. The Weasleys," replied Ginny, laughing. "And we aren't too terribly frightening, are we?"
Hermione managed a watery laugh. "No," she said, "I just suppose I'm being silly."
"Yes, you're being very silly," said Gin encouragingly. She helped her friend to her feet. "Now, come on, I won't give you a hard time about your pet Slytherin. He doesn't seem like too bad an influence."
"Oh," said Hermione, smiling a little. "He is."
*************
Unfortunately, Harry and Ron were not as easy to pacify as Professor Dumbledore had been. Hermione found it very difficult to get out of the Tower with them barricading the door.
"You're going with who?!"
Hermione had to sit them down and lie straight to her teeth to them before they gave their unwilling consent. Ginny still made noises leading Hermione to believe that she really wanted to go with them and chaperone, but Hermione firmly ignored her.
Hermione managed to finally get downstairs to Draco, who was waiting impatiently for her, coffee in hand. She dragged her trunk behind her.
Draco looked up to see his Hermione struggling with her luggage down the stairs. He rolled his eyes. For the smartest witch in their year, Hermione wasn't all that bright. Which, in Draco's opinion, didn't bode well for the rest of the sixth years.
"Accio trunk!" he called, whipping out his wand. The trunk sailed out of Hermione's clutches and flew to Draco's feet.
Hermione, looking distinctly disgruntled, trudged down the rest of the stairs after her baggage. She marched past Draco muttering, "Showoff…"
He shook his head and smiled wickedly.
************
Helly attempted to use her magic to pile all of their belongings onto the one carriage, but because Draco insisted on bringing along a sixth trunk, the house-elf had to summon a second carriage. Which was just as well, for Hermione and Draco wanted to be alone.
They snuggled together as the carriage flew smoothly down the lane.
"Draco?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you know who will be at this Inquest? I mean, other than the two of us and my—the Spencers."
"Well," he said slowly, "The man that wrote to you, the Head of Utterly Frightful Cases or whatever it was, ought to be there, as well as an Unmentionable or two. The Grangers will be there," he shot a quick look at her; Hermione face was impossible to read. "And it's quite likely that any of the Aurors who worked on the case would be there."
"An Unmentionable?" she questioned, ignoring his mention of her parents.
"Yeah, you know, those skanky fellows that lurk around the Ministry… no one's quite sure exactly what they do, but Father says that he has known them to work with the Aurors on cases like this."
Hermione looked puzzled, so Draco elaborated, "My father has been a consultant on any cases the Department of Law Enforcement, which oversees all criminal cases, has had in which the Aurors suspect the use of serious Dark Magic. He's been using his knowledge of Dark Magic to assist the Ministry since the fall of the Dark Lord."
Hermione was shocked. "Your father works at the Ministry?"
"Of course he doesn't," Draco scoffed, sounding much like his old self, "He simply assists the Aurors when necessary. Father is quite the expert on Dark Magic and undoubtedly, those idiots at the Ministry need his expertise in order to catch half the criminals lurking around."
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"I am not proud of some of the things my father has done, Hermione, don't get me wrong. But he has always done what he thought was best for the family, and for that I cannot blame him. I know that he's a hard man, that his opinions are somewhat… outdated…" Draco mulled over this for a moment and then continued, "No, actually, he's flat out wrong on a lot of the things he believes are right. Like that the Malfoys are better than everybody else because we're rich and pure-blooded and we've been around for ages. And he could definitely do with some instruction on fatherly affection." Draco made a face.
Hermione reached over and touched his arm lightly. He didn't seem to notice. "I know that my sister, for one, wishes her father was like her friends'. That he actually took an interest in what she does. But Father has actually never had much use for Calabria, though she's smarter than the rest of us combined. He always wanted her to be a boy. I think he was hoping that the second 'boy' would be more like him; for as you know, I take more after my mother in, er—temperament and looks."
"Not true!" interjected Hermione. "I've met your mother… and you're nothing like her! She's so—…"
"Spineless?" suggested Draco wryly.
"Well, I was going for submissive, but I won't disagree…" said Hermione.
"No, I realize that my mother is a… what has my father said, ah yes- 'simpering worthless trophy, only good for displaying to important businessmen. For their approval of Father's ability to conquer, of course.(A/N: D, you know I'm talking about you and David… you know I'm right about that.) But, although my mother is truly as such and my father believes me to be something along the above lines, I remain what I am." He paused and looked down at his fists, which were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He opened them and mentally reminded himself that he ought not to be quite so demonstrative. It wasn't very Malfoyish.
Hermione leaned against him and looked up into his impassive face. "And what exactly are you, Draco Malfoy?"
Draco was silent. Long after Hermione had returned to her own thoughts and given up on his answering her, he replied, "I am lost."
She frowned, and he read uncertainty on her face.
"Lost… somewhere in between. I was well on my way to becoming the male version of Narcissa, my lovely, useless mother when my father did two very unfortunate things."
"And what were they?"
"Well, first, he brought Calabria into this world. She's smart enough to be able to withstand his idiot, aristocratic, elitist ramblings. She'll be quite an ally for which ever side she chooses to take. My father's real mistake was having her in the first place; he will never be able to control her. But he has already demonstrated his real lack of intelligence by misjudging just how capable she is."
Draco paused and smiled.
"My father's second mistake was sending me to that school in America, Antherbans. Had he let me be, I'd be just as I was: spoiled, selfish, cowardly, and a general pain in the ass. But he sent me away to, as he put it, 'learn some gall.' And I did. But I also learned that I didn't want to be who I was. Who I'd been. I wanted to be better than that. And they let me, in America. You'd be surprised how quickly I learned. Right and wrong; they just seemed to be so much clearer after I experienced what it was like to be strong and independent. After I learned that I could stand up for the things that I really thought were true. And oh, Hermione, I don't know if I'll ever be able to explain it to you… it's just the way it is; I'm different. Different from who I was and different fro how my father wishes I was. He will never get the son he wanted. And frankly, I don't want to be the son he wanted." Draco let his head fall into his hands.
Hermione slipped an arm around his waist and the other reached up to cradle his head. He leaned against her and she held him. He truly needed her, just at that very moment in time. It was nice to be taken care of, but even more so to take care of someone else. Now she knew why Draco had cherished his ability to care for her; because it was rewarding to be able to soothe another person.
They were silent for the rest of the ride to London.
************
Helly unloaded the trunks and Hermione dealt with the Muggles. Draco brooded over a cup of coffee in a small café across the street from the hotel.
Hermione joined him after a few moments and ordered a small cup of tea. They sat in a pleasant silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
Hermione's dwelled on the Spencers. Even Ginny's comforting words couldn't completely banish the creeping fear inside her that she wasn't up to her new families' standards.
Draco's voice shook her from her thoughts.
"Hermione!" he hissed suddenly.
"What? What is it?" she asked, alarmed by his tone of voice.
"Look over there," he said, peering out onto the street. "Do you see her?"
Hermione turned in her seat and looked out into the street as well. She couldn't see anyone that looked out of place until Draco grabbed her arm and pointed, his finger shooting past her violently.
There was a small bookshop next to the hotel. A young girl, maybe about a year younger than the two, was standing in front of the window. She was slim, weighing about 115 pounds, and somewhat small, about 5'4". She was wearing fawn-colored corduroy jeans, a cream-colored cashmere sweater, scoop necked, a jacket of the same color as her jeans, cut as a jean jacket would, and a pair of creamy-brown high-heeled ankle boots. She had a cream-colored scarf and gloves on, the same shade as her sweater, and brown-red hair, cut short and curly. She turned, briefly, and Hermione saw that her eyes were the color of a summer's cloudless sky. It could only be one person.
Draco drew in breath. "It is her. It's Sirena."
A/N:
**IMPORTANT: To all readers: I am SO SORRY! I've been sick (on my deathbed, really) and trying to muddle through finals, but please enjoy! I'll try to be very good and have another chapter up, y'know, within the month… ::ahem:: Yeah, sorry about that. Anyway! This is another chapter of interim (I HATE doing this to you again, but I'm in an interim mood with the release of Two Towers, I suppose.) But we get Hermione out Hogwarts, we learn about Draco and his father (and Calabria), and we get LAV'S SISTER'S NAME (hah! exciting!) and I hope that's sufficient… please don't be mad at me… ::hides in cave with computer, furiously churning out chapter 6 while ignoring squawks from best friend to hurry the hell up::
