Chapter 37: Justification
Disclaimer: There's a story about a mountain, a thousand times bigger than Everest, which stands at the end of the universe, and once every thousand years a little bird flies to the mountain and sharpens its beak on it, one-two, and flies away again. Now, by the time that entire mountain has worn to dust, I still won't own Harry Potter.
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A/N: I'm incredibly sorry about the long wait between updates! Though I do have reason, as my mum knocked her front teeth backwards and is now getting false ones, my dad dislocated his shoulder, and I spent all last weekend rushing round doing things. I dislike having too many social events in a weekend. One half-day event is acceptable, any more and I have no time for anything.
Anyway, I've been agonising for ages over which questions to answer. After deleting all the ones that had already been answered or would give away too much plot, prioritising the ones which were asked multiple times, and then debating over the rest, here are the five questions with their answers:
What are you going to study/do as a profession? Well, I must admit, in my ideal world I would be an author, and I do want – when I'm older, wiser and really feel confident about writing – to write books. But of course, being practical, it's not guaranteed to put food on the table. Plus, when I do nothing but write and read all day, I tend to go a little… odd. Odder than usual, that is. So I would like to get a job and write in my spare time. I'm currently studying English Language, English Literature, Psychology and Biology, and I'd quite like to do English at university with the aim of being an English teacher, perhaps?
If you were Hermione, would you have acted the same as she does in the story? This was an incredibly tricky one to answer! I do have quite a few similarities with Hermione – down to the initials HG and the bushy brown hair – and I think I would have done some things the same, along the lines of wanting to help him when I found out. I probably wouldn't have gone about it the same way, though – I'd have been more likely to tell Harry/Ron/Ginny, explain it to them and ask them to be kind to Draco, talk to him, etc. until he started talking to us of his own free will.
How long until Hermione gets to see/stroke Draco's wings? Ah, yes, the wings. They are very pretty, I agree. As for how long until Hermione gets to see/touch them properly… in terms of the story, it'll be around the start of their Xmas hols. Which translates in real time to Xmas/New Year, approximately.
Will there be a sequel/Will we be seeing more of Narcissa than the occasional letter? I put these together because the answer is, basically, the same. There won't be a sequel. That's definite. There will probably be, however, some short spin-off stories later on – some of which will involve Narcissa, among other characters who, due to plot constraints, don't get the attention they really deserve.
To Draco: Assuming you had access to a Starbucks, and assuming your father wouldn't kill you for associating with Muggles, what would your favourite Starbucks beverage/pastry be? A little explanation first: with so many different styles of Draco to write with in so many different fics, I've ended up developing a kind of meta-Draco who is referred to by my friends as 'The little voice in Cy's head', 'DLV (Draco's Little Voice)' or 'Inner-D'. This is the one to whom I put the question, and after much surfing of the Starbucks website, he has gone for the 'Tazo' Chai Tea Latte with Vanilla Almond Biscotte.
With that incredibly long AN over, onto the story. Enjoy!
Exitus acta probat.
(the result justifies the deed)
Ovid (43 BCE - 17 BCE)
'I'm going to the library.'
Hermione said this without looking at Ginny; her gaze appeared to be focused on an interesting table a short distance away, and a slight tinge came to her cheeks as she lifted her beg onto her shoulder. 'I shouldn't be more than an hour or so.'
'Bookworm,' Ron said with a grin. Hermione smiled back, a short and slightly tense smile, and glanced at Ginny, who avoided her gaze.
It was obvious from the way she was behaving that she was going to meet Malfoy. Ginny didn't let herself look up until she heard the portrait hole close firmly, and didn't join in Harry and Ron's conversation when it had done.
She didn't like this, none of it; it reminded her of when she'd been younger, about five or six, and the twins' latest game was would-you-rather questions. 'Would you rather sleep with your head in a cowpat or eat one?' or 'Would you rather be killed by a Dementor or a Lethifold?' The other boys had thought it was fun, even if they got tired of it after a while, but Ginny had hated it. She'd ended up throwing a tantrum and accidentally sealing their lips shut, and Mum – when she'd undone the magic – had forbidden them from ever asking Ginny one of those questions again.
Later, Ginny had thought back on them and worked out why she'd hated them so much. She had no problem with choosing between two would-you-rather things if the choice was obvious. If one thing was good and one thing bad, like 'Chocolate or a cowpat?' she was fine. Even if both things were bad, such as 'Spinach or a cowpat?' she was fine. She just chose the lesser of two evils.
It was when the two choices were the same in her preferences, as Fred and George's so often were and as the current situation with Malfoy was, that she became uncomfortable.
Ginny hated Malfoy. She'd hated him before she'd even met him, from Ron's stories and letters and her parents' dark mutterings about the Malfoy family, and in five years at school together he'd done nothing to change that impression. He'd insulted her family, he'd fought her brother, he'd sneered and jeered and cheated at Quidditch, he'd made Potter Stinks badges and composed Weasley is our King, he'd called Hermione Mudblood and, of course, his father had slipped her the diary which had almost killed her. There were very few people she hated more than Draco Malfoy.
And of course, to find that Hermione was not only friends with him but comforting him… well, she felt as though Harry had just gone out for a friendly game of Quidditch with Voldemort.
Malfoy had been at the Order that summer, of course, which showed that something odd had happened to him at the least, for him to seek sanctuary with his enemies. If he'd been nice to them there – or even simply avoided them and been silent – she might be able to understand Hermione's friendship with him better. But he didn't seem to have changed at all.
And yes, she was worried for Hermione's safety. He was a Death Eater's son; there was no telling what plans he might have, what he might do to her once he gained her trust…
But there lay the other side of it. Ginny trusted Hermione's judgement, and if she thought there was something worthwhile in Malfoy, something worth being friends with… Ginny couldn't really argue. Hermione had the right to be friends with whomever she wanted, and if that included Draco Malfoy, then what right did Ginny have to say no?
Her first impulse had been to go straight to Ron and Harry. With them, she could determine if Hermione was in danger, spy on her meetings with Malfoy, perhaps, find out what was going on. With all three of them knowing, they could watch more closely for danger signs. Ginny glanced at the clock, realised Hermione would be in the library with Malfoy at this very moment, and tried to swallow a rising bubble of panic. What was Malfoy doing?
Hermione's judgement. Ginny had to trust in Hermione's judgement, that if she thought Malfoy was safe to be friends with then he must be so. It was harder than it seemed, especially when she'd believed all her life that a Malfoy could never be trusted, would have Muggleborns and half-bloods and Weasleys dead in a second if they could.
She glanced at Ron and Harry, longing to tell them. Together the three of them could do something, make sure Hermione was okay. Plus it really wasn't right of Hermione to lie to them; Ginny felt guilty just for being part of the secret, knowing she was lying – or at least, keeping important information - from her brother and Harry. They would want to know, it was disloyal not to tell them, but it would be disloyal to Hermione if she did tell them.
Would you rather betray one friend or hide a secret from another two? Would you rather let your friend be alone with a dangerous Malfoy who could hurt her and kill her, or spy on her immorally without her knowledge? Would you rather trust your friend's judgement, which you feel is completely wrong, or throw a fit and insist she do what you think best?
That was why she hated would-you-rather questions.
She hated her answer too. The Ultimatum, as she thought of it. Tell Harry and Ron yourself or I will. It was blackmail, and horrible, and she felt oddly unclean for using it. But something had to be done, and at least this way she didn't have to hide the secret from Harry and Ron, not for too long. At least this way when they found out they could help her keep an eye out for danger, decide what to do next.
'We'll have to set up a bed for her there,' Ron was saying. 'Transfigure books into pillows and stuff.'
Harry laughed. 'And get the house elves to bring her food, only we won't be able to tell her it's house elves, of course…'
Ron shook his head. 'Nah, you can't eat in the library. We could probably get her out for meals…'
Nodding slowly, Harry asked, 'I wonder what she's doing in there? She hasn't spent this much time in the library since before the OWLs. She's in there everyday, practically…'
Ginny bit her lip and looked away. Hermione had a week to tell them.
Hermione had read in Hogwarts; A History that the library, which couldn't use fires for warmth for the obvious reason that it contained large numbers of extremely flammable books, was instead heated by some incredibly complex spells. These had been invented by Rowena herself, who had masterminded the design, building and layout of the library, and she and Helga had cast them over all areas of the library, weaving them into the very stones of the walls. They still worked today, over a millennium later.
Knowing all this, however, didn't keep Hermione from feeling cold as she walked through the library to her usual corner.
Draco was waiting there for her, early as usual, his head carefully lying on the desk in the crook of a precisely folded arm, his eyes lightly closed. He looked, if she had to sum him up in one word, tired. Two words would be elegantly tired.
'Draco?' she asked, sliding into her usual seat next to him. 'You awake?'
'Unfortunately, yes,' he replied, slowly opening his eyes and shifting his head so that he could see her better. From this angle, she noticed very faint blue patches under his eyes, as though someone had taken a blue-inked quill and coloured in that area, and when Draco had tried to wash it off he'd been unable to get that last faded, pale trace of blue off his skin.
It was obvious he'd slept badly. 'You know, if you want to go have an early night, you can,' she said. 'You look exhausted.'
'Thanks,' he muttered, closing his eyes again for a brief second. 'I won't be able to sleep anyway, so there's not much point. I've never been able to sleep in the daytime.'
Hermione glanced at the sliver of window she could just see from amongst the bookcases; it was dark outside, as it had been for the past two hours, but she didn't say anything. If he didn't want to go, she couldn't and wouldn't make him, simple as that.
'You could go to Madam Pomfrey for a Dreamless Sleep potion, if you can't sleep tonight either,' she decided to say eventually, after a few seconds' pause. Draco shrugged, which looked rather odd in the position he was sitting in.
'I'll think about it,' he said.
He didn't seem in the mood for conversation, obviously, so Hermione stayed quiet and looked at her fingernails, which were either uncomfortably long or freshly broken right back to the skin. She ran her thumbs over their irregular edges before glancing back to Draco, whose eyes were once again shut.
She had to tell him, at some point, about Ginny's ultimatum. It would affect him; couldn't help but affect him, as Ron and Harry certainly wouldn't be best pleased about it. He deserved forewarning at least, and an explanation of what had happened. And to know that Ginny had seen him crying.
He looked exhausted, but she only had a week in which to tell Harry and Ron, and she was intending to simply choose the first decent opportunity – after all, decent opportunities were likely to be fairly sparse. There were only a very limited number of situations in which you could say something like that, and it would still be very hard to keep them from thinking she was in some kind of danger.
Of course, there were a very limited number of situations in which she could tell Draco about Ginny's ultimatum, but she didn't have the luxury of a large amount of time in which to do it. She had to tell him as soon as possible; she only had a week to tell Ron and Harry, and she didn't want to tell them without first warning Draco. Which meant that here and now, with Draco still shaken from the recent events, was the best chance she had.
She didn't want to tell him. It felt almost cruel to add this difficulty on top of his use of the Dark arts and his crying, both of which had clearly already shaken him up far too much. But if she didn't tell him now, when would she tell him? Later in the week, and have no chance to delicately choose the time she'd tell Ron and Harry, and end up making things worse with them? Or perhaps not at all, and then it would be a kind of betrayal.
Now. It might feel cruel, but it was better than not telling him at all, than making Ron and Harry angry with him because she'd told them at a bad time.
'I…' she began, then paused. He opened his eyes, perfectly placid and weary, and looked at her. She bit her lip. 'I have some bad news.'
He frowned, raising his head. 'What?'
'You remember I missed the DA meeting yesterday?' she began. He nodded briefly. 'Well… Ginny came to look for me when I didn't turn up.'
He caught on quickly. 'She saw us?' he asked, eyes widening, then, 'Did she see…?'
Hermione bit her lip, not wanting to tell him this part, and nodded. He looked away, resting his head in his arm again but facing away this time, though she saw a hint of red in his cheek.
'She hasn't told anyone about it,' Hermione was quick to say. 'And I haven't told her anything about… about you being half-Fallen. Or about why you were…'
'Crying.' He finished, voice distant. 'What did you tell her?'
'I said you'd changed but I couldn't tell her why, and she was okay with it, after a while.' Hermione said. 'She didn't ask about why you… why you were…' She paused, wishing she could see more of Draco's face. 'Then she asked what we talked about, and I said schoolwork and things like that – safe topics, of course. Then she asked how we'd started being friends anyway, and I made up something about Arithmancy. That was pretty much it.'
'Has she told anyone else?' Draco asked after a short pause.
Hermione frowned. 'Not… not yet.'
He turned his face towards her then, jaw set firmly and eyes slightly narrowed. 'What do you mean, not yet?'
'She… she thinks I should tell Harry and Ron,' Hermione replied, adding quickly, 'It is like lying to them, and breaking their trust, and I have been feeling guilty about it for a bit. And I understand why she wants me to tell them…'
'Are you going to?' Draco asked sharply.
She sighed, shrugging slightly and finding herself unable to meet his gaze. 'I don't have much choice, do I? If I don't tell them, she will, and that'll just make worse. Harry and Ron will be less angry if I confess than if Ginny tells them…'
He straightened, slowly, giving her an incredulous look. 'And you're just going to do what she says?'
'What else can I do? I can't prevent her telling them, and I guess they do have a right…' Hermione began, but Draco interrupted.
'Of course you can prevent her telling,' he said, the tips of his cheeks turning red. 'Blackmail her.'
'Draco…' Hermione began, but stopped due to the complete impossibility of communicating exactly what was wrong with that. 'You don't blackmail your friends.'
'She's blackmailing you, isn't she?' Draco pointed out, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 'If you don't tell them, I'll reveal your secret. By all definitions, that is blackmail.'
'Well, yes, but…' Hermione paused, unsure how to explain the difference and unsure what the difference even was. There was a difference, she knew, but… She looked at him, then, reclining in his chair with his head tossed back and jaw set firm, something of his old, Fallen self in the way he held himself which made her look away quickly.
'What she's threatening to reveal is… well, it's a different kind of secret. It's not something embarrassing or damaging to me, and I…' She took a breath. 'It's actually something I'd prefer them to know. I don't…'
'Well I'd prefer them not to know,' Draco cut in sharply, almost violently. 'I don't want Potter and the Weasleys knowing about… about anything,' he finished, with a brisk and vehement gesture which indicated himself, Hermione, and the general library.
'Draco…' Hermione began. 'They're my friends.'
'They're my enemies.'
Hermione took a deep breath. 'I was your enemy not so long ago, Draco,' she told him firmly, 'and… and I'm your friend, and I'm also their friend, and I really would like it if I could tell them about this. Forget Ginny, I wanted to tell them anyway. Ginny's just the motivation.'
'I don't want them to know,' Draco repeated. 'Hermione, they hate me. The last thing they want to hear is that I'm…' He frowned, briefly; he couldn't say friend and there was no other word. 'That I'm meeting with you. They won't like it.'
Hermione shifted slightly in her seat, looking up at him, frowning. 'They won't do anything. They won't like it, but they're my friends, and as long as I'm not in any danger – which I'm not - they won't…'
'They'll think you are,' he interjected darkly. 'They'll stop you talking to me.'
Was that the root of it? 'If they do, I'll hex them both until they can't tell their knees from their elbows,' Hermione told him, and elicited a small smile. 'I won't let them stop me talking to you. That's a promise. And… and I would feel a lot better if you let me tell them, I feel guilty about lying to them. And I won't tell them anything about you being half-Fallen. And… please?'
He frowned. 'I still don't like Ginny blackmailing you.'
'I think she's justified,' Hermione replied, watching him carefully. Then, feeling rather odd since she'd have to tell them whether he consented or not, she asked, 'May I?'
He closed his eyes, looking suddenly weary, and after a few moments spoke in what was almost a whisper. 'Fine.'
Hermione grinned, relief spilling through her as though someone had poured a bottle of it over her head. 'Thanks. That… that really…'
His eyes flickered open. 'Though if I ever get that Weasley girl on her own, you can rest assured I'll have a few things to say to her about blackmail,' he said harshly, eyes with a slightly malevolent spark to them. Hermione opened her mouth to say Don't, but decided not to push her luck.
'Thanks,' she repeated.
His eyes narrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. 'Can we change the subject now?'
'Sure,' Hermione replied, quickly trying to think of a new topic. 'Oh, remember how I asked if I could write to your mother? I've written a letter…' She ducked below the table to rummage in her bag, allowing her to escape the tense atmosphere above. Emerging, she saw Draco looking thoughtful.
'Probably the best way to arrange this,' he began, 'is for you to pretend to be a friend of Delphine's – that's Pansy's mother, I'm using her as a false identity. Call yourself Cloris; there's a witch by that name in one of the families that's worthy enough for my mother to be writing to her, but not so high up that my father would be likely to run into her and find out that she's not actually writing to her.'
Hermione nodded. 'What should I write about? In the false letter?'
'Books?' Draco suggested. 'My mother loves books; it'd be an acceptable common interest for Delphine to introduce you both because of it. Plus, you probably know a lot about it.'
Hermione nodded. 'I'll write a cover letter now,' she said, putting the real letter down on the table. She wondered if Draco would want to read it; he had every right to, of course, but… 'Is there anything else I should add in the letter?'
'Try to sound aristocratic. Try to flatter her a bit, perhaps? Then Lucius will read it as a lower-status Pureblood trying to get into a higher-status circle, and probably dismiss it.'
Hermione nodded, pulling out a piece of parchment, ink and quill. 'I'll try,' she said, and began her letter with a formal Dear Narcissa.
A short while later – after she'd rambled for a while on some of her favourite books in as aristocratic a tone as she could manage, with a few subtle flatteries added in, she signed it with her false name and wordlessly handed it to Draco for inspection. He read it through, nodded, and placed it on top of her real letter.
He hadn't read the real letter.
'Cela usque ad animi motus,' Draco muttered, touching the parchment with his wand, and the two sheets merged together. 'I'll send it tonight,' he said, rolled up the parchment and dropped it into his bag.
Hermione paused, biting her lip. 'Do you want to read it?' she asked.
'Yes, but I'm not going to,' he replied.
'You can if you want, I don't mind…' Hermione began, but he interrupted.
'No, I won't. It's impolite to read other people's letters, after all,' he said with a small, wistful smile.
If she hadn't already known, Hermione would have wondered what kind of system would condone her blackmailing Ginny but prevent Draco reading a letter he'd been given permission to read.
A/N: As both my parents have had accidents in the past few weeks, and these kinds of things always come in Threes, and I'm an only child, it would seem that Fate has something serious planed for me next. Considering that with these events I'm practically giving Fate a lap-dance, I have no qualms about tempting her further by posing the question: What part of my anatomy do you think I'll injure, and how? Note that only hospital/dentist/etc-visit-worthy accidents are counted. Answers in reviews!
