Authors Note: Thanks to my beta who has made such a fantastic job of editing this and to all those of you who have reviewed. Your comments and suggestions have been invaluable so keep them coming in! Please refer to the Prologue for the disclaimer.
Chapter four
Jumping to her feet, Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy, lounging against the bookshelf behind him, a smirk playing about his mouth. She became suddenly aware of how tall he was, towering over her by a good six inches. She could feel panic forming in a tight knot in her stomach but was determined to remain calm no matter what. If truth were told, she was slightly afraid of Malfoy, and usually, Harry and Ron would be there to act as a buffer between them. Now however, she was alone, and judging by the silence pressing in upon her from all angles, even Madam Pince, the irritable librarian, was nowhere to be found.
"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione asked, taking care to look him straight in the eye, whilst at the same time closing her fingers around her wand residing in the pocket of her jeans.
"Well now, an interesting question if ever there was one." He drawled, looking down at her with a mock frown creasing his brow. "I've just received a very interesting letter from my father. Can you imagine what, or shall I say who, it was about, Granger?"
"No, I've better things to do with my time than to imagine what you and that father of yours could be corresponding about." Hermione retorted hotly.
"Well, in that case allow me to tell you," he replied, bending forward so their eyes were on the same level. "Father decided to visit Diagon Alley this morning to pick up some books he'd ordered from Flourish and Blotts. He was standing in the shop gazing absentmindedly out of the window, when a young woman looked in. At first father didn't take much notice of her, but after a while, he glanced at her again. Something about her face rang a bell in his memory, although at the time, he could not think who she was. Anyway, she entered the shop, and deciding to satisfy his curiosity, father followed her to try and discover her identity. It was as she buried herself in a book, that father put two and two together and recognised her. Shall I tell you who it was, Granger?"
Not waiting for an answer he carried on, "It was you! At first, father thought he was seeing things, and so decided to instigate a conversation to verify your identity, and what an interesting conversation it was too. Apart from being deliberately rude to him, you disappeared as soon as he offered to help you get back to school, not a very lady-like way to behave, don't you think? One would think you had something to hide, or why else would you skulk off to Diagon Alley all alone?"
Hermione frowned. Trust Lucius Malfoy to tell his son what had transpired in Diagon Alley. He had no doubt embellished the story to suit his own purposes. It was imperative she kept calm and thought this thing through. Anger was starting to replace the fear she had at first felt. Who the hell did Malfoy think he was to question her about her morning's activities? Anyway, she thought, Malfoy senior had no proof whatsoever that she had been in Diagon Alley, apart from his word, which these days, did not count for much. Apart from Ginny and Mr Ollivander, no one knew of the reason for her visit and she doubted if either of them would say, even if pressed. The best thing to do was to behave as though nothing had happened, and then maybe he would lose interest.
"Honestly, Malfoy, the stories you come up with!" she exhaled in exasperation. "If I had a Knut for every time you've tried to get myself, Harry or Ron into trouble, I'd be pretty rich by now. Just do us all a favour, and mind your own business. If you spent all the time you waste on annoying us in your studies, your father may not have to buy your good marks for you!" She could see instantly that her remark had hit home - Malfoy's face darkened; the sneer which had previously been playing around his mouth was gone, to be replaced with a black look which could have done credit to Voldemort himself.
"So you think my father buys my grades for me, do you?" he asked in a voice that was no louder than a whisper, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. "Well I hate to shatter your illusions of me, Granger, but no, my grades aren't 'bought' for me as you seem to think. It's my hard work and constant slogging that's got me my good marks, and don't you dare forget that! Incidentally," he smirked,"I wonder what Dumbledore would make of one of his golden Gryffindor's little excursion into forbidden territory? I'm sure he'd find it very interesting, if I were to enlighten him!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione snapped, scowling up at him. "Now if you don't mind, I'm off. Oh, and Malfoy, making slanderous accusations about people isn't the way to ensure you get a decent reference at the end of the year."
"Ah, but little so-called 'shopping trips' into Diagon Alley are also not the kind of thing you do to retain your Head Girl position, in case you've forgotten that!" At this point, he straightened up, looking down at her with a mock frown creasing his forehead. "But I ask myself – what was so important that Goody two shoes had to risk her neck and spotless reputation by sneaking off to Diagon Alley? Surprisingly, I can't come up with a plausible enough answer. That drivel you told my father about getting dress robes for the graduation dance is a load of bull, as we both know - which brings me back to my original question. Whatever it is, it must have been extremely important." As he spoke, he picked up a curl of Hermione's hair, which had escaped from the clip tying it back, and began to twirl it around his fingers. He was once again smiling in that unsettling way, which made Hermione want to squerm.
Pulling her hair free of his hand, she glared at him. She was becoming nervous, and did not like the way Malfoy's mind was working, she had to think of something to distract him for he seemed hell bent on finding out why she had gone in to Diagon Alley. She realised too late that this was not some malicious attempt to get her into trouble, but something much more dangerous and disturbing, in which she was out of her depth to cope.
In a last ditch attempt to distract him, she sneered, "If I were you, I wouldn't ask myself too many questions, I doubt your brain could cope with the extra activity this entails!"
"Oh I don't know," he responded softly, "It's amazing what my brain – and my body for that matter – can do when required. Shall I show you?" As he spoke, he stretched out a hand to the nape of her neck taking a firm hold of the hair lying in dishevelment over her shoulders. "I think you may enjoy what I'm capable of doing, and maybe, you may even learn from me." He gave the hair a gentle tug, tipping her head back. He brought his other hand up to rest on her windpipe and with his thumb, began caressing her jaw.
Fighting the primal instinct to wriggle free, she looked up in to his steely eyes, willing her gaze to meet his challengingly. "What are you going to do Malfoy? Strangling me is certainly not the way to get into Dumbledore's good graces or even Voldemort's for that matter."
To her dismay, he simply laughed.
"Aren't we being dramatic today? Who said anything about strangulation? Here I am just trying to be friendly towards another human being, who is obviously in distress, and what do I get for my troubles? An accusation of strangulation," he smirked, shaking his head, letting his finger trail down the side of her neck. "Really Granger, you must learn to cut down on the dramatics, it isn't becoming you know. Anyway, even if I did decide to pay you back for some of the insults I've had to endure over the past six years, who's going to stop me? Everyone who's usually in the library on a Saturday is in Hogsmeade, and I don't doubt Potty and the Weasel are too. But don't worry," he said, as she made to raise her foot to kick him, "I'm too much of a gentleman to do such a thing. Forgive and forget, I say."
Smirk still in place, he released her, and stepped back. "Now, if we could get back to the matter at hand? Oh, and don't worry - I won't divulge your little secret, it will be strictly between us."
"And what matter would that be?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Actually, on second thoughts, don't bother answering that. I've wasted more than enough time talking to you, and only have a headache to show for it." So saying, she turned, and before he could stop her, slipped into the aperture between two shelves and moved out of sight. She didn't wait to see if he had noticed, but made her way through the library and out of the doors. She did not stop until she reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room, where she collapsed in to an armchair by the fire and shut her eyes, trying not to replay the last half an hour in her mind.
XoXoXoXo
Hermione bit her lip nervously, glancing down at the piece of parchment clutched tightly in her hand. Getting restlessly to her feet, she went over to the large library window, which looked out on to the lake, which today was frozen solid. The lawns sloping away from the castle, were deserted of all life, and above her, Hermione could make out the outlines of some menacing looking clouds, which looked as though they would burst at any moment. Although it was only 5pm, darkness cloaked the castle and grounds like a velvet shroud, making it difficult to see the grounds clearly. Hopefully, Hermione thought miserably, it would rain so hard the roof of the castle would spring a leak, thereby diverting professor Dumbledore's attention from her to it. She refocused her attention on the parchment in her hand, trying valiantly to keep her tears at bay. It was a letter from Professor Dumbledore, asking her in very polite terms, to meet with him in his office at 5.20pm this evening. Hermione knew only too well what he wanted to talk to her about. Malfoy must have told him of her trip in to Diagon Alley after all. Right now, she wanted to kill that horrid spoiled brat, and then feed his intestines to Fang, who she was sure would be grateful for the extra titbit. Actually, on reflection that seemed too nice a fate for the git! Pulling herself from her reverie, she glanced at her watch to see it was now 5.10pm.
Reluctantly turning away from the darkening window, she swung her heavy bag on to her back, and made her way out of the hushed atmosphere of the library. She felt as though she were going to the gallows, as a knot of dread settled in the pit of her stomach, making it hard for her to breathe. What would Professor Dumbledore say to her? But more importantly, how would he punish her? She had no doubt that she would at least be suspended, if not expelled. At this thought, she felt the tears prickle the backs of her eyes, but she determinedly blinked them back; she would not let anyone see her cry! She could just imagine the Slytherins' jeering remarks if they so much as saw her shed a tear. Reaching the gargoyle hoarding the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office, she gave the password 'Blood Lollie-pop' and waited as it sprang aside to let her pass. Stepping on to the spiral staircase, she grabbed the handrail to steady herself, while the staircase carried her to her doom. Moments later, she stepped off and was faced by the door to the office. Bracing herself, she knocked and waited. After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Professor Dumbledore himself beaming down at her.
"Ah Miss Granger, do come in."
Entering the beautiful circular office, Hermione took a quick look round. She had only been in here twice before, at the start of her fifth year, when Professor Dumbledore had called the first prefect meeting of the year, and at the start of this year when she and Anthony Goldstein had met with Dumbledore to discuss their duties as head boy and girl of the school - all subsequent meetings taking place in Professor McGonagall's office. The room was lit by a golden glow, the source of which Hermione could not see. Fawkes, Dumbledore's scarlet and gold Phoenix, was standing on his golden perch, gazing placidly at her. Waving her to a chair opposite his desk, Dumbledore seated himself behind the handsome desk, which Hermione guessed had given service to many a Headmaster and Headmistress. He now regarded her thoughtfully through his half-moon spectacles, which glinted in the soft light suffusing the room.
"I must say, Miss Granger, it seems a long time since we last spoke, how time does fly when you aren't looking. If I'm not mistaken, the last time we met in this office was at the start of this year, wasn't it?" Hermione tried hard not to fidget beneath that all knowing gaze, fixing her eyes instead on a silver contraption standing on a spindle-legged table behind Dumbledore, whirring and omitting puffs of smoke at irregular intervals.
"Yes, something like that, I think." She muttered, wishing for the fiftieth time that he would get on with it and stop delaying the inevitable.
"Well, you are probably wondering why I wanted to see you in my office." he went on. "On Saturday, I had an owl from Mr Ollivander, who told me that you had been to see him that morning to buy a new wand, as yours wasn't functioning as it should be. He went on to tell me about the wand you had bought and your subsequent discussion. Now, I cannot condone your actions, for you deliberately flouted school rules to go to Diagon Alley. I do however; understand your reason for going, and it turns out that you did ask Professor McGonagall if a staff member could accompany you in to London, although you did not say why. Of course, if she had known your reason for going, I am sure we could have come to some arrangement. As this is the first time in seven years you have deliberately broken rules, I will overlook your transgression this once, although I must impress upon you the danger in to which you placed yourself. As much as it pains me to admit it, wizarding London is not a safe place these days for a barely overage witch who has only limited means of defending herself."
Hermione looked up into Dumbledore's eyes and said, "I am sorry Professor, but well, I had to go…I mean, well…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say next. Mr Ollivander had expressly told her not to divulge any of her conversation with him to anyone else. How much had Mr Ollivander told Professor Dumbledore?
As though he was reading her thoughts, Dumbledore went on, "It is interesting how these things turn out. Yes, indeed." There was a far-away look in his eyes Hermione did not understand, and for a while he said nothing but stared into space absently twirling his silver beard around one long finger. Eventually, he pulled himself out of his self-induced trance and refocused on Hermione sitting before him, who was nervously pleating and unpleating the fabric of her robes between her fingers. "Forgive me, Miss Granger, where was I? Ah yes, about your wand. Well, Mr Ollivander described to me the power of the wand you had bought from him. May I have a look at it?"
"Yes, of course, Professor." Hermione handed him her wand while wondering where this discussion was leading. Taking the wand, he lifted it to his eyes peering closely at it. Hermione was glad she had polished it that morning; the dark wood of the wand gleamed in the soft light, and the aura of power surrounding it, was almost palpable in the quiet room.
"Interesting," he murmured, handing the wand back to Hermione. Getting to his feet, he started to pace the length of the office, all the while keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Hermione who was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Finally Dumbledore spoke and what he said surprised Hermione so much, she sat there as though stunned.
"Usually, I do everything in my power to ensure that all students in this school have as little to do as possible with the outside world and the events taking place in it, unless it affects them directly. However, under these circumstances, I have no choice but to ask for your help as the information you and Mr Ollivander came upon on Saturday, can be of vital use to us. Miss Granger, I am sure you know all about the Order of the Phoenix, the resistance group against Voldemort that I run. Being who you are, I am also sure that you know, we are not doing too well in our efforts to defeat Voldemort in his rise to power. The ministry being what they are are of little assistance to us, and so we are left fighting this dark wizard alone. I am asking for your assistance in defeating him, Miss Granger. Your abilities as a Lestintia, may be the turning point in a war which otherwise may go on for I do not know how long."
There was a silence as he finished speaking. Hermione sat gaping at him like a fish out of water. The silence was broken, not by Dumbledore, but by Fawkes who with a burst of phoenix song, flew across the room to land in Hermione's lap. She jumped; almost dislodging the phoenix who was just making himself comfortable. Glancing down into Fawkes' bright beady eyes, Hermione wondered what he was thinking.
After a moment of contemplation, she finally spoke, "I don't know what to say - I mean, I…of course I know of the order – I've stayed at head-quarters, but to be one of them, well, I don't know if I know enough…"
"Is that your only worry?" he asked, turning to face her and smiling slightly.
"Yes, I mean the rest of the Order are all adults; fully trained witches and wizards. Just because I'm supposed to be a Lestintia, it doesn't mean I have control of my abilities." She hoped she didn't sound too panicky as she said this.
"No, what you say is true. But this is something we are going to have to work on. I'm sure you are aware of the reason you outgrew your wand. You are a very powerful witch, and if I am right, possess a unique gift, which when discovered, will, I am sure benefit the light side as a whole. This is assuming, of course, you do want to join the order."
"Professor, there's no question about that. There's nothing I want more than to work against Voldemort" she emphasised, "but I'm just worried I won't come up to expectation, and I couldn't bare to disappoint the Order."
"I doubt that very much. Throughout your time at Hogwarts, you have shown a maturity well beyond your years, considering all the prejudice you have had to face from various students. If anything, this has made you stronger and more determined to succeed, rather than put a dent in your confidence. I'm sure given the right training; you will become one of the most powerful witches of the age. I need not tell you of all people what Voldemort is capable of, and unless a stop is put to his activities, I doubt the wizarding world will be the place you know, in ten or even five years' time."
"Yeah, I suppose being one of Harry's best friends, has helped me see life for what it really is, but what if someone else finds out that I'm working for the Order?" she asked nervously while idly stroking the phoenix in her lap.
"I'm confident no one will find out, after all, no one including Messers Potter and Weasley knew about the time-turner you had to use in your third year, now did they?" The old man's eyes twinkled merrily.
"No, of course not, but that was because it was a secret…" Hermione stopped abruptly, the parallels of both situations had just occurred to her; she had been required to keep the time-turner a secret from everyone including the staff - some of whom had given her strange looks during her third year. This situation was no different, as working for the resistance against Voldemort could costs Hermione her life, if anyone were to find out about it!
Smiling at Dumbledore, she nodded before saying, "Fine, I accept your offer. I just hope your faith in me is justified."
"Oh, it is Miss Granger, it is! I don't want you worrying about this - let an old man who has nothing better to do with his time do that for you. All you have to do is turn up to the tutoring I will arrange for you, and hopefully after a short space of time, your gift should manifest itself."
"All right then - I'll try!" Hermione said, suppressing a smile. The day she stopped worrying about something just because someone told her to do so, would be the day that the sun rose from the west.
XoXoXoXo
Hermione descended the spiral staircase from Dumbledore's office, her mind in turmoil. Within the space of four days, she felt as though her life had been turned upside down. Maybe, she thought, this was the prelude to stranger things; first, the chat with Mr Ollivander on Saturday, then the confrontation with Malfoy, and now three days later, Professor Dumbledore instead of expelling her, had asked her to join the Order of the Phoenix! She felt oddly calm, although she could not work out why. Life was strange, she mused, and who would have thought the ordinary bookish daughter of two dentists, would end up working alongside some of the most esteemed witches and wizards of the age? Even if it killed her, she vowed to try and live up to the expectations placed on her by Dumbledore and maybe, just maybe, they would be able to defeat Voldemort once and for all.
So determined, Hermione stepped off the staircase, passed the gargoyle which had jumped aside as soon as she had approached, and made her way along the dimly lit corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. She badly needed some time to herself, to assess and come to terms with the situation in which she had now found herself. The corridor was deserted; Hermione supposed that everyone was at dinner. Speeding up, she was just about to ascend a rickety staircase leading to the sixth floor, when a figure stepped out from behind a suit of armour, blocking her path. Skidding to a stop, Hermione scowled as she looked up to see Draco Malfoy looking down at her. She gulped, wondering what he wanted. Frantically, she went through the week's prefect duties in her head to see if there was something she had not done but there was nothing.
Smiling lazily at her he drawled, "Goody Granger, in Dumbledore's office? What is the world coming to?"
"Get out of my way," Hermione said quietly glaring at him.
"Why Granger? In a hurry to get somewhere?"
Then, before she knew what was happening, he had grabbed her arm, pulling her through a doorway on her right. Spluttering with indignation and not a little fright, Hermione turned to face him, her right hand automatically going to the pocket holding her wand.
"Look, it's OK," he stressed when he noticed her movements, "I've no intention of hexing you, I just wanted to talk to you."
"I'm sure whatever you have to say can be said in the corridor, with other people around, or is what you have to say something that you would rather a teacher not hear?" she asked in a low voice.
"You know; if I didn't know you so well, I'd say you were afraid of me." He drawled, smirking down at her.
"You wished!" She spat, her nervousness draining away, to be replaced with anger. "Now if you don't mind, I have better things to do with my Tuesday evening, than to stand around in some dingy classroom talking, well arguing, with you."
Choosing to ignore her statement, Malfoy asked, "So what did Dumbledore want with you?"
Hermione stared at him. How had Malfoy known she had been to see Dumbledore?
As though she had asked this question aloud, he went on, "I saw a school owl deliver the note to you this morning at breakfast. Of course, I didn't know what it said," he shrugged, "but your expression told me it wasn't good news. I guessed that a teacher had probably asked to see you. Then big mouth Weasley trumpeted 'what the hell does Dumbledore want to see you about this evening?'" he snorted, "I think half the hall heard him. Anyway, I waited around by that foul Gargoyle and here you are. So what did Dumbledore want from you?"
Not giving herself time to wonder why Malfoy had been watching her that morning, Hermione bit back, "That Malfoy, in case you haven't noticed, is none of your business. Anyway, why do you want to know? Now, for the last time, get out of my way!"
Once again choosing to ignore her command, the blond continued, "Actually, if you must know, I was a bit worried." Hermione noticed that he was no longer sneering down at her, but was gazing avidly at a point just over her right shoulder. "I wondered if Dumbledore had found out about your trip to Diagon Alley, and wanted to let you know before you accused me that I didn't tell him about it." A silence followed his confession, in which he definitely did not meet her eyes. Hermione, for the second time that day, was speechless.
The world has gone mad! she thought distractedly.
Leaning against a very dirty-looking blackboard, she stared open mouthed at him, and finally managed; "I…I don't believe I heard you right! Why on earth should you be worried if I got in to trouble from Dumbledore? Especially when you've made it your life-long ambition for the last six and a half years to get Ron, Harry and I expelled? Why the sudden concern?" she frowned in distrust.
"Damn it, Granger," he clenched out, "If you must know, I didn't want you to think I couldn't keep my word. Malfoys pride themselves on keeping promises whenever they make them and well…"
"Yeah, but you didn't make me a promise though, did you?" Hermione's eyebrows rose in retort, "You just said, 'Oh I won't tell anyone' or something along those lines."
"So you did go to Diagon Alley on Saturday!" His eyes lit up triumphantly. "Well, I gave you my word I wouldn't say anything, and being a Malfoy, am honour-bound to keep it."
"Whether I went to Diagon Alley or not, is of no concern of yours. It's getting late, and I'm tired so get out of my way!" she snapped.
To her surprise, he moved away from the door, allowing her to get out. As she was leaving, she glanced over her shoulder, "Anyway, why are you so anxious to explain yourself to me?" Turning, she saw he was leaning on one of the dusty desks, his elbows resting on the desktop, his chin cupped in his palm. He didn't answer her question but seemed to be in another world.
Shrugging she turned away and had taken only a few steps along the corridor, when she thought she heard him mutter, "Maybe because I care what you think about me, and don't want you to think any worse of me than you already do."
Surprised, she was just about to turn back to ask him what he was talking about, when two familiar figures loomed out of the dimness, coming towards her.
"Mione, you're still alive!" Ron exclaimed, as he and Harry reached her. "Are you hungry? I noticed you weren't at dinner. Harry, I think we need a detour to the kitchens." Not waiting for an answer, Ron grabbed Hermione's arm, and began marching her down the corridor towards the lower floors of the castle.
"You look a bit shaken, Hermione," Harry said. "Did everything go well with Dumbledore?"
"Oh yeah, he didn't want much, you know - just the usual head boy/girl stuff." She replied trying to sound casual. Around them, people were making their way up from the Great Hall, making it impossible to talk. Hermione was glad for this - she needed time to work out what Malfoy had meant.
It seemed however; fate had other ideas, for as soon as they had started down the marble staircase, a voice called to Hermione from amidst the throng of students, "Hermione, over here!"
Turning, Hermione saw Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw in her year, waving frantically at her. Being petite, Mandy was finding it difficult to fight against the tide of students moving against her in the opposite direction. Hermione waited patiently for her, much to Ron's annoyance. Finally, Mandy reached them panting slightly.
"Hey stranger!" she greeted, smiling at Hermione who smiled back. "It's been absolutely ages since I saw you last, what are you doing with yourself these days?"
"Mandy, you saw me the other day in the library," Hermione returned her smile.
"Well, if you two don't mind!" Ron interrupted, scowling at Mandy, causing her to go an interesting shade of red, "We'll just get the stuff and meet you back in the Gryffindor common room, say in fifteen minutes Hermione?"
"Yeah sure," Hermione nodded and then followed Mandy to the tranquillity of the library.
"God, it's absolute bedlam out there!" Mandy exclaimed pushing open the heavy doors. Following Hermione to a table at the back. Hermione threw herself down into one of the chairs, while Mandy seated herself opposite. "So, how have things been with you lately, Hermione? I can't help noticing that you seem to be a bit quiet these days, anything up?"
Hermione smiled at Mandy, who was looking anxious. The two had become friends in their third year, when they had taken up Arithmancy and the study of Ancient Runes. Both had a love of learning, and had often spent hours in the library discussing the knottier points of an Arithmantic chart, or a symbol they had been asked to write about in Ancient Runes. Hermione found Mandy to be an interesting and an intellectually challenging companion, who unlike most girls of their age, did not spend her time gawping at every boy who passed, or wondering what the stars predicted for her love life that week. Their friendship was further enhanced by their mutual dislike for Divination and all that it stood for.
"No, there's nothing unusual, just work and stuff. I feel as though I've been run off my feet. I sometimes tutor some of the younger students and between that, all our homework and head girl duties, I don't seem to have time to breathe anymore."
"Well, it sounds as though you need a rest," Mandy replied. "I wrote to Mum and Dad the other day, asking them if you could come and stay with us during the Easter holidays. I mean, we hardly spend any time together coming from different houses, so I thought it'd be nice to spend some time together away from Hogwarts, don't you think? Anyway, Mum and Dad wrote back this morning, they say it's OK for you to visit, and they're dying to meet you!"
"Well, thanks, I don't know what to say!" Hermione stammered at a loss.
"Say yes, and we can start arranging things, and before you say you need the library during the holidays, I just want to point out our library at home is pretty huge and most of the stuff you'll need is in there. So don't you use that as an excuse to say no!" Mandy pointed at her emphatically.
It was true, Hermione thought, all she did these days, was run around trying to get her work done, and worry about her magical abilities. Maybe getting away from Hogwarts for a while would help her put things into perspective? Then an unpleasant thought entered her mind. Looking at Mandy, she asked warily, "Your family, well, they don't have a problem with muggle-borns, do they?"
"A problem?" Mandy laughed, "My eldest brother is married to a muggle who, in my parents eyes, can do no wrong! So I really can't see why they would take a dislike to you because of your muggle heritage!"
"Then that leaves me with no reason for declining," Hermione grinned at Mandy.
"Fantastic!" Mandy shrieked, earning a disapproving look from Madam Pince. "We'll have so much fun! We have an absolutely huge library; a swimming pool and can play Quiditch on the east lawn of our house. Also we can meet loads of people! I mean, there're always loads of parties at Easter, and you can meet all the stuck-up snobs my parents associate with."
"Well, as long as I don't have to come into contact with people like the Malfoys" Hermione laughed, remembering all to clearly her last encounter with Lucius Malfoy, "We should be OK."
"Well, actually," Mandy frowned, "the Malfoys are a really old bloodline, whom my parents have to associate with - not because they want to, mind you, but because etiquette demands it. But cheer up," Mandy grinned, "we'll see them twice at most, and each time will be at a huge gathering where there'll be loads of other people, so we may not even cross paths! So don't you worry about it." Hermione returned Mandy's grin, before thanking her and bidding her good night.
Making her way back to Gryffindor Tower, she marvelled at her good luck. She could spend time with Mandy without worrying about petty things like interhouse rivalries and they could get to know each other better. The Brocklehursts were a pretty rich and important family, if 'Oldest Wizarding Families Within Europe' was to be believed. Hermione had never seen a wizard's mansion before, and was looking forward to meeting Mandy's parents, from whom she could learn a lot about ancient wizarding customs. And as for their library! she grinned just thinking about it.
Hermione could do with a holiday and where better to spend it, than in Mandy's home in the heart of Shropshire? And you never know who you might meet, she thought, grinning guiltily to herself. Fine, there was the little problem of meeting the Malfoys, but as Mandy had pointed out, they would be with lots of other people and Lucius Malfoy wouldn't dare try anything – his good name meant too much to him. All in all, she thought, she could put up with the Malfoys' – it would be a small price to pay for such a wonderful holiday.