Jenny, Hermione's previous riding instructor, suggested Lora pay Hermione to train the horse when he proved too difficult for the poor rider. Lora's father had agreed, despite his daughter's assurance that she could ride the horse perfectly well. So Lora took advantage of Hermione working for her, enjoyed bossing Hermione around. Like right now.
Hermione finished cooling out the stallion, loath to end what might be her last ride on him, as Lora's father had put him up for sale. So for all Hermione knew, these were her last days with her precious stallion.
"Looks like he needs a bath, but I have a hair appointment," said Lora.
"I'll do it," said Hermione eagerly.
"Be sure to condition his mane and tail," said the evil bit—girl, smirking. With that she left, Hermione breathing a sigh of relief.
"Didn't think you could be taken advantage of," drawled a familiar voice. "I'll have to ask her how she does it."
Not here, thought Hermione. He can't be here. This is the only place I'm free of him. NOT HERE. She glanced over her shoulder. Yep. She screwed her eyes shut, hoping that if she looked again, he wouldn't be there. She peeked. Damn, he was still there.
"I'm not going to disappear," he said, as if reading her thoughts.
"Draco Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I live to stalk you." Hermione glared. "But really, I'm looking to buy a new addition to the Malfoy stables."
"You ride. Horses." Said Hermione disbelievingly.
"Yes," he smirked.
"I'm cursed." Without another word to him, she bathed Com and stalled him. As she was the last one left in the stables, she knew it was her job to grain the horses, as someone had already given them hay.
"What are you doing?" asked Malfoy as he followed her into the grain room. She placed the buckets of grain on a wagon and pulled it down the aisle.
"What does it look like? And what are you still doing here?"
"Annoying you," he smirked.
"Go to hell, you damn snake."
Hermione opened a stall door and emptied a bucket of grain into the feed dish of a testy Lusitano gelding. He snapped at her, and she pulled her hand back just in time. Hermione lowered her head and walked menacingly towards him, making him back up, as if she were the lead horse. Draco watched with disguised interest as the horse bowed his head and backed up.
A few stalls later, Hermione was ready to kill Draco. She turned around to yell at him, but stopped, mouth hanging open. He was gently stroking the face of a beautiful Oldenburg mare, whispering to her. He dropped his hand when he saw her watching.
"Is she for sale?" he asked.
"No; she's pregnant." He knew how to pick a good horse, though. The mare's owner had imported her from Germany a few years back; she was trained to Pre Saint George in dressage. Hermione had ridden her a few times.
In the next stall, Hermione told Malfoy bluntly to stay out of the stall. The horse was a Thoroughbred stallion, and mean to the bone. Of course, Malfoy being Malfoy, he didn't listen. The horse lunged, teeth bared to bite Malfoy, who yanked his arms back quickly. He was hard-pressed to keep from exposing the Dark Mark on his arm.
Hermione was thoroughly fed up by the time they came to the last stall, Dot Com's. Hermione fed the horse, then ran her hands over his back and sides.
"He for sale?" Malfoy's question struck a sore spot with Hermione, who would give an arm and a leg to own the horse.
"No," she gritted.
"Liar."
"You are such an arrogant, slimy, disgusting, obnoxious, BASTARD."
"Ooh, little Mudblood not want me to buy her horsey?"
"Ooh, little slick ass ferret wanna buy a muggle's horsey?"
"Mudblood," he said, leaving. He stopped to get Lora's number off Dot Com's stall card, to torture Hermione, mostly.
"Slick ass ferret."
Hermione sat at dinner a couple months later, moving food around on her plate, not really eating. She had gone to the barn earlier, and Com's stall was empty and devoid of shavings. He was really gone. And tomorrow she left for her seventh year of Hogwarts. As Head Girl, of course.
Draco sat in his black room, wearing black robes, looking at the black sky through his window. Why me? He thought. Why this assignment? Bring Granger to him? How did I get to be like this in the first place? I know, it's partially my fault, but they let me. I became a Death Eater of my own accord, but I was a mere boy. Only fourteen, blinded by power. It was what my father wanted, so I thought it was what I wanted. How could I have been so stupid? Now I am heir to the Dark Lord. How could this happen to me? I was power hungry, fooled by the lies. It was written long ago that the dragon would take the place of the snake; the Prince of Darkness would end the final war. But now I know, and it's too late. The Dark Lord will die. And then I'll rule in his place. Welcome to hell, Dracy-boy.
"Hermione?" called two voices. Hermione whipped around to see two tall, built boys looking for her, not seeing her. The raven-haired boy was about 6'2", and the redhead was around 6'5". They were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her best friends of all time.
Hermione ran over to them. She jumped at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck, but being careful because she was in a skirt, and he was about ten inches taller than she, so she wasn't touching the ground.
"I missed you guys so much!" she squealed.
"Hermione, is that you?" asked Ron in a very shocked voice.
"Uh huh," said Hermione, giggling as she let go of Harry and dropped to the ground to hug Ron.
"Wow," said Harry, looking Hermione up and down. "Just—wow!"
Okay, yes, cliché, but Hermione got a new look over the summer, her treat to herself for making Head Girl. She still didn't know who Head Boy was. Anyway, her hair was in soft curls to her shoulders, with highlights to accent her honey colored eyes. To her surprise, the summer had given her womanly curves, but she was still slim. She was wearing light makeup, a short jeans skirt, and a red halter. She was quite unrecognizable, actually.
They found a compartment with Ginny, Seamus (who was going out with Ginny), and Luna (who was going out with Ron). Hermione counted five wolf whistles and three numbers being slipped into her back pockets. If someone got too friendly, Harry and Ron would crack their knuckles menacingly, and the boor bloke would run off.
Walking between Harry and Ron always made Hermione feel more secure, and with good reason. I mean, what short girl wouldn't feel comforted by two tall, muscular guys who happen to be your best friends walking on either side of you? I know I would! Anyway, it may seem like they were her hired body guards, but it made them feel more comfortable being able to keep an eye on Hermione. Especially with her new look.
She felt someone's breath on her ear, and that someone whispered "Hey honey, haven't seen you around before. What's you're name?" At this point, Harry and Ron had seen the guy, and had whirled around to beat him to a bloody pulp, but were to shocked to move. Hermione just laughed.
Malfoy looked confused. "What? Did you two idiots find someone worth following around? I mean, this hott chick—oh fuck!" He paled as he realized he was looking at the one and only Hermione Granger.
And Hermione paled as she realized that pinned to Malfoy's Hogwarts robes was a Head Boy badge.
Malfoy sat in a compartment with his cronies, thinking. Crabbe and Goyle sat on either side of him, Pansy stared at him, and Blaise was considering the easiest way to sneak out, though no one knew what she was considering, obviously. (A/N: I'm confused. The fabulous, awe-inspiring, worship-worthy, JK Rowling never gave Blaise a gender, so I'm making Blaise a girl, as I've read fanfics where Blaise is male and ones where Blaise is female, so, whatever…)
"Hey Draco, what's the matta?" asked Blaise, realizing Malfoy wasn't ranting about one thing or another. Blaise would be the only one who noticed Malfoy wasn't being Malfoy, as she was the only other one sitting in the room who had a brain.
"Nothing," he said, glancing up as she pushed a lock of straight, raven's wing black hair out of her face.
"Liar," she told him, electric blue eyes piercing his stormy gray ones. "Really, what is it?"
"Nothing!" he yelled, angry that she knew him so well. They had been best friends since they were five. She raised a defined eyebrow.
"That's good Draco, lose your temper. That'll really help whatever you're doing with Granger," she muttered quietly. You'd only hear it if you were paying serious attention. Unfortunately, Draco was paying serious attention.
"WHAT?" I don't like Granger! I mean, she's hott—no she's not! You sick bastard! But she is! Is not! You know she is. Okay, so she's hott. But I don't want her! LIAR!
Blaise had been watching him, amused, as the Prince of Slytherins argued internally with himself about a muggle-born. She watched his eyes shift back and forth between the two ideas. He was her best friend; he always had been.
The three of the five teenagers suddenly hissed in pain and grabbed their right forearms. Crabbe and Goyle felt the same pain, but were too stupid to recognize it.
"D-do you think he w-wants to see us?" Pansy squeaked, frightened.
"No," gritted Malfoy, as he felt it worst of all. "He's angry, though."
Blaise just looked at the floor. The Dark Lord was being set up. For her. It was tonight or never.
"Blaise, you okay?" asked Malfoy. "You look like you're going to be sick."
"I think I am," she said, running out of the compartment. Malfoy looked after her, confused.
Hermione looked up to see the black-haired Slytherin run past the compartment, looking paler than normal. Hermione knew why. She had created the plan. She and Blaise were going to pull it off together. They had to.
Dumbledore stood after the first years were all seated at their respective tables. Normally, he would make his speech after the feast, but he knew there wouldn't be time for all to hear later.
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," he said, then waited for the cheers to die out. "You have come to a place where anything is possible. Your dreams, your thoughts, your imaginations, are the limit. Some of you will get by in Hogwarts using your intelligence," he looked at Hermione. "Some will get by on their looks," he looked at a group of very popular Hufflepuffs. "And some will surprise others with who they are," he looked at Harry, then Blaise, then Malfoy. "With that, I'd like you to introduce your Head Girl and Boy for this coming year. Hermione Granger," she stood, and he waited for the applause, and shouting, and cat-calls to end. Only they didn't. A good amount of girls were glaring evilly at their boyfriends. He waited. And waited. "All right, all right, settle down now," he said good-naturedly. "SETTLE DOWN!" utter silence. "And your Head Boy, Draco Malfoy." Draco stood to cheers from the Slytherins, boo's from the Gryffies, and glares from all the guys everywhere whose girlfriends were swooning. And there were a lot of them. A LOT of them. I mean, like 99 of Hogwarts's female population. Including the new teacher.
"I'd now like to introduce Ms. Anna Orlyrox, our new caretaker." There was lots of applause as the attractive woman stood. She looked to be in her thirties, but somehow seemed ageless. Hermione studied the woman with raven black hair and piercing hazel eyes. Hermione had only seen that sort of look in one other person, but she couldn't place who.
"And it's my pleasure to inform you," continued Dumbledore. "That Mr. Remus Lupin has returned as your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There were tons of cheers, and deafening roars from the Gryffies as Remus stood and nodded to everyone.
THAT'S IT! thought Hermione. Oh my god, she's a werewolf! I wonder how long it will take her to get together with professor Lupin…
"Now, I leave you to your meal," said Dumbledore.
After a few minutes of the feast, Blaise glanced at her watch. It was time. She could feel it now. Her wand was warm in the pocket of her robes, ready to be used. Her hands were steady, even if her breathing was uneven. A feeling like cool rain washed over her. It was her time, she knew it.
She shakily stood and caught Dumbledore's eye. She nodded, and he bowed his head slightly. He knew as well as she did. Then she caught Hermione's eye. They both nodded. Hermione knew. Harry knew it too. For him it was a gut feeling. He looked from Blaise, to Hermione, to Dumbledore, and back again. Blaise walked through the doors at the front of the Great Hall, Hermione and Harry discreetly following.
"Er, Blaise," he called. The girl turned.
"What's the Gryffindork prince doing following me?" asked Blaise innocently.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I know as well as you do what you two're about to do. I don't know why, but you have to be the one to do it, I can feel it, too. Here, take this." He held his wand out to Blaise. The brother wand to Voldemort's own.
"Harry…"
"The only wand capable of challenging Voldemort's is related in some way to it, Blaise. You know that. Hermione knows that. Dumbledore knows that. I know that."
"But what about Hermione?" she asked, not reaching for the wand.
"You see, Fawkes the Phoenix only gave two tail feathers," said Hermione, grinning evilly. "And a wing feather. I learned a few years ago that my wand is also kin to Voldemort's, a sister wand, as I like to think."
"Take it Blaise, it's your only choice," said Harry.
Blaise took the wand. It felt ice-hot in her grip. Power surged up her arm. She looked at Harry with wonder. How could he stand such a rush of power all the time? She had held Hermione's wand before, and it was the same. Gryffindors, go figure.
"Thank you," she said. She took off a necklace. Hermione held the charm attached to it while she held the chain.
"Bye Harry," said Hermione. The two girls were… uh… portkeyed away, I guess.
Hermione looked at Blaise's confident yet pale face when they landed. They had to be successful. Hermione pulled on the invisibility cloak and followed closely behind Blaise, who knew her way around. They came to a large room with torches on the walls. A great hearth held a roaring fire.
"My lord?" said Blaise.
Voldemort turned his chair around. Blaise held back a wince at the sight of the being who caused her so much pain.
"Zabini." She could hear him wheezing. He had been even weaker since he let the Death Eaters kill Pettigrew, as he no longer had a caretaker. For a second, she almost regretted what she had to do to him. Almost.
"My lord, I've brought a witch who wishes to become a Death Eater. She's very powerful, and obedient. But there is a problem."
"Which is?"
"I'm a mudblood," said Hermione, throwing off the cloak. Of one mind, before Voldemort could move, the two girls had screamed "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The shock evident on his warped face, the Dark Lord fell in what seemed slow motion to the feet of the pureblood and the mudblood. They stared disbelievingly at the still and dead form of Voldemort and grabbed the necklace again, as it was a double-portkey. As the room filled with nearby Death Eaters, the girls were again… portkeyed away.
Draco screamed in pain. The Dark Mark seared his skin like a brand. He fell to the floor, writhing. It had never been like this before. It was a thousand times worse than when it had been burned there. Fortunately, he was in his common room. People were on the floor, screaming, all around him, while a few looked at them like they were mad. He pushed back his sleeve, and his eyes widened. The black snake and skull were warping into a blood red dragon head.
And the pain ended. "The Dark Lord is dead," said one shaken boy.
(A/N: Okay, so let's catch up. Blaise and Hermione couldn't really disappear for as long as it would take to kill Voldemort, get back to Hogwarts, and go through the hours of questioning that would follow their murder of Voldemort. So they're using a time turner to get back only a few minutes after they left.)
"Who's the new Dark Lord?" asked another boy.
"Malfoy," said someone.
"The Dark Lord," someone breathed. Soon most of the common room was kneeling at Malfoy's feet. He could now see Blaise, leaning against the portrait, tears running down her face.
"Kneel before the Dark Lord," commanded someone. Blaise walked over to Malfoy, kneeling at his feet. She looked up at him. His eyes were full of pain, worry, anger, betrayal, and fear. She had done this to him. Her best friend.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, the tears falling faster. She knew what would happen. As the new Dark Lord, Draco would be killed. "So, so sorry."