An Unwanted Return
"The fucker got caught!" Blaise exclaimed, racing over to the Gryffindor table and thrashing the Daily Prophet on top of Hermione's already opened one. Blaise's Daily Prophet was not opened yet, and Hermione noticed that Draco was on the front page. It was actually him, looking frail and tired as he descended from a boat onto the island of Azkaban, accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione picked up Blaise's Daily Prophet and gazed at the picture of Draco, all time suddenly coming to an abrupt halt. Of course, time can't be put on halt for too long when Blaise is around. Then who would be left to pay attention to him?
Blaise snatched the newspaper from Hermione's grip. "Did you hear me, Granger? He got caught! And I'd have thought that he would have been more careful. Right outside of London, for heaven's sake! Probably coming to see you. What a stupid git. I expected much better of him."
Ron and Hannah finally looked up. Ron frowned. "Go fuck yourself, Zabini." He said, not very threateningly.
"How about I fuck your girlfriend instead?" Blaise said, flickering his tongue like a snake at Hannah. Hannah looked as though she wanted to be sick.
Ron stood up abruptly. "If you ever-"
Hannah put a hand on Ron's shoulder, causing him to stop in mid-sentence. Ron sat back down, glaring at Blaise.
Blaise laughed. "That's what I thought."
Blaise turned to leave, but before he could take a step away from the Gryffindor table, his pants suddenly fell mysteriously to his ankles, revealing bright, yellow boxers patterned with winking, grinning happy faces. Blaise's jaw dropped in horror as everyone in the Great Hall turned to look. Laughter slowly began to echo through the Hall, and a few seconds later once everyone was staring, it was full-fledged roars of mirth from each and every student in the Great Hall, including the Slytherins. A horrified Blaise made to dash out of the Great Hall, but before he could make it past the Ravenclaw table, his pants got the better of him and tripped him, causing him to fall to the floor. The roaring of laughter intensified, and Blaise scurried out of the Great Hall on hands and knees, his face red as a beet.
Ron was nearly in tears, clutching his stomach because he was laughing so hard. Hannah giggled, giving Hermione a "you-shouldn't-have-done-that" look. But Hermione couldn't pass up such an opportunity. What's a witch without her magic?
……………………………………..
Hermione had pinned the picture of Draco from the Daily Prophet on her wall beside her calendar. Even when he was two seconds away from a cell in Azkaban, he still looked like the sexiest man alive. Hermione sighed. He probably was on his way to see her. That was why he was near London. He had risked getting caught just to see her. And he did. Because of Hermione, Draco was now in a cell in Azkaban.
"Yo, Hermione!" Ron cried from the common room. "Professor Dumbledore to see you!"
Hermione snapped out of her depression, taking one last look at Draco's angelic face before leaving her bedroom and emerging into the Great Hall, where Ron and Hannah sat doing homework and Dumbledore stood tall, the top of his pointed hat almost touching the ceiling.
"Hello, Professor." Hermione greeted. "Happy Valentine's Day."
Dumbledore grinned. "Yes, Happy Valentine's Day to you, too. Mr Weasley, Miss Abbott, would you two mind giving Miss Granger and I a moment alone?"
"Of course!" Ron said, nodding enthusiastically. He and Hannah rose and left the common room, hand-in-hand.
Hermione smiled after them, then looked up into Dumbledore's pale, blue eyes, wondering what on earth he could possibly want. "Yes, Professor?" She asked, after Dumbledore said nothing.
"There is someone in my office requesting to speak with you." Dumbledore said, not looking too thrilled. "He is not very happy, either."
"Who is it?" Hermione asked, confused.
"The Minister for Magic." Dumbledore answered. "Cornelius Fudge."
Hermione looked dumbfounded. "Why on earth does he wish to speak with me? Does this have to do with Draco?"
"It has nothing to do with Draco." Dumbledore answered. "Shall we go and see him?"
Hermione nodded, still confused. What did the Minister for Magic want with her if it did not have to do with Draco? She scanned through the list in her head of everything that the Minster could want, but none of the options seemed likely. Hermione was bewildered when Dumbledore came to a sudden halt outside of the stone gargoyle guarding his office. He muttered the password to get through. Hermione then followed him onto a spiral stone staircase. The staircase slowly moved upwards and stopped once it reached a polished, oak door. They stepped off together, and Dumbledore pushed the door open into his office.
Cornelius Fudge, holding his green bowler hat, stood in the center of the office, tapping his foot impatiently. He really did look unhappy about something. But what?
"Thank you, Dumbledore." Fudge said. "Do you mind if we speak in private?"
"Certainly." Dumbledore said, politely. "I have an errand to run as it is. I shall return in fifteen minutes time." And with that, he turned and left his office. Hermione stared at Fudge, not even aware that she was doing so.
"Well, good evening, Miss Granger." Fudge said, shortly. "I have a matter that I would like to discuss with you."
"What would that be?" Hermione asked, continuing to stare at him.
"This house-elves nonsense." Fudge answered, surveying Hermione to see her reaction.
"What?" Hermione asked, both stunned and baffled at the same time. "You came all the way to Hogwarts to discuss house-elves?"
"Precisely." Fudge said. "I've gotten word about what you are attempting to do. Trying to give house-elves their freedom. Preposterous! Miss Granger, house-elves serve a purpose in the magical world. That purpose is to serve wizards. It's as simple as that."
"It is not!" Hermione cried. "House-elves have feelings, too, just like we do! They don't deserve what they're being forced to do!"
"They enjoy what they do!" Fudge countered.
"That's just because they haven't experienced what freedom is like!" Hermione opposed. "They don't know what its like to have wages or to work an actual job that doesn't include slaving away for somebody else!"
"They don't need to! You're idea and your constant need for attention has got to stop, young lady. I will not have you diffusing your ridiculous house-elf freedom hodgepodge into the magical world!" Fudge spat.
"It is not hodgepodge." Hermione whispered, glaring at the Minister. She then spoke in a calm, steady voice. "I will continue this until I get what I want. I am making a stand for Magical Creatures who obviously cannot do it themselves. If you want to fight me against it, fine. But there is absolutely nowhere in the Ministry of Magic Guide that says protesting for Magical Creatures is illegal, so I don't know what kind of a defense you'll have."
"This will never make it to the Daily Prophet." Fudge warned. "You mark my words, the magical community will not hear of it. They don't want to. To them, you'll be a lunatic who's gone mad over the loss of her crazy, convict boyfriend. And if that's what I've got to do to make sure that your ridiculous protest does not come out, so be it. Good day, Miss Granger."
Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief as she watched Fudge breeze past her and exit Dumbledore's office. What a prick! How did he hear about it, anyway? Not that it mattered. And who cares if the magical world thinks that she's crazy? They can all go fuck themselves if that's the case. But how dare Fudge bring up Draco! The nerve of him! If anything, Fudge's little 'speech' only urged Hermione to want to free the house-elves more than ever!
"Miss Granger, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked as he stepped into his office. Hermione had plopped herself down into one of the comfy armchairs, not even realizing that she had done so.
"The Minister just threatened me!" Hermione exclaimed, outraged. She then spilled the entire story to Dumbledore. Every last word that Fudge had said to her. Dumbledore listened patiently, nodding here and there to show that he understood.
Once Hermione finished, Dumbledore shook his head. "There is nothing erroneous with what you're doing, Hermione." He said. "But you are going about this all wrong. If you want to free the house-elves, the first thing you need is their consent. You need to persuade them to want the same thing that you do. If you need any help, feel free to ask me. I'm willing to help the house-elves if that is what they want."
Hermione smiled gratefully. "Maybe you can help…"
…………………………………..
A week after Hermione's encounter with Fudge, she formed somewhat of a treaty. This treaty included herself, Dumbledore, Ron, Hannah, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati. The nine of them made their way down to the kitchens, prepared to give the presentation of their lives. They used pictures, graphs, symbols, and catchy phrases to gain the attention of the house-elves. Their biggest weapon was, of course, Dumbledore. The house-elves would not dare refuse to listen to what the Headmaster would have to say, nor would they argue with him about it. Dumbledore, with the help of the S.P.E.W. team, managed to get their point across about all of the wonderful things that freedom can do for the house-elves. And the amazing thing was, they seemed to be listening. They did not agree to anything, but they did agree to take everything that was said into consideration. Hermione felt so happy that her heart was near the point of bursting. She had made a small breakthrough! Take that, Fudge!
"I'm going to bed." Ron yawned, shutting his notebook for the night. "Why would I take Divination again? Seriously, what is wrong with me? It's got to be the most stupid subject ever."
"I tried to tell you in our third year." Hermione shrugged. "But you wouldn't listen to me."
"Yeah, well hit me next time. Maybe it will get through." Ron suggested.
Hannah slugged Ron in the arm.
"What was that for?" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his arm. The bruise that Hannah had left from the week before was just starting to fade, too. Ron reckoned it would only be a few minutes before the new one began to appear.
"You said to hit you." Hannah replied, innocently.
"Next time I make a stupid decision!" Ron cried, still rubbing his arm. "Not now!"
"Well, not finishing your homework is a stupid decision." Hannah said, indicating Ron's closed and unfinished notebook.
"Very true." Hermione agreed, giggling at Ron's losing battle.
Ron glared at Hannah, then his face cracked into an unexpected grin as he kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, love muffin."
Hannah giggled. "Wait! I'm coming too! Good night, Hermione."
"Nitey night." Hermione said, internally sighing. Ron and Hannah were so happy. It was cute, it really was, but still… Hermione could not stop thinking about how times would be if Draco were around. Would Draco and Ron put the past behind them enough to allow the four of them to hang out? Hermione smiled to herself. Probably not. But it would have been worth the shot. That is, if Draco were around. But he wasn't.
Hermione yawned. Apparently, she was tired too. But she had to finish her Potions homework. Snape would be livid if she didn't. Then again, Snape was always livid. But still. Hermione didn't need to make him any grumpier than he usually was. So, she stared down at the question that she had needed to copy down for homework. Explain why Shredded skin of a Boomslang is an essential ingredient in the Polyjuice Potion. Hermione racked her brain. She should know this. She had concocted a Polyjuice Potion in her second year. But nothing was coming to mind. Why was Shredded skin of a Boomslang an essential ingredient in a Polyjuice Potion? Hermione yawned again. She closed her eyes, trying to envision the potion and the ingredient. And still nothing was coming up. Perhaps she was just too tired. Yes, that would explain it…
Hermione suddenly slipped into an odd dream. She was at her own wedding, standing at the alter. Except she was in a tuxedo, not a gorgeous white dress. Then suddenly, a man came walking down the aisle. A man in a beautiful, white wedding dress. Strange. His veil was drawn up over his face, covering his profile. He walked slowly towards Hermione, carrying a bouquet of flowers. After what felt like hours, he made it up to the altar. Hermione smiled, then reached to uncover the man's face. However, it was not Draco like she had thought. There were round green eyes the size of tennis balls, though…
"Friend of Harry Potter!" A voice squealed.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, only to be greeted by Dobby the house-elf's large, green ones. She withdrew her head immediately, then yawned and stretched with no recollection of her strange dream. She glanced out of the window; it was still dark. "Hello, Dobby." She said in the middle of a yawn. "What are you doing here?"
"Dobby's come to tell Miss good news!" Dobby cried, excitedly.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"The house-elves are thinking, Miss! About your idea! Dobby tries to tell them how wonderful it is! For once, they are listening! Dobby's not so stupid, now. They like Dobby's socks! Soon, all house-elves will be free!"
Hermione's face cracked into a grin. "That's excellent, Dobby! Just incredible! I knew Dumbledore would have influence!"
"The Headmaster is wonderful!" Dobby exclaimed. "Great man, he is. Always tries to give Dobby more than he wants. Dobby doesn't accept too much, of course. Dobby is still a loyal house-elf. What if Dobby takes so much pay from the Headmaster that the Headmaster does not have enough pay for anything for himself?" Dobby asked. He shuddered at the thought.
Hermione giggled. "I'm sure that won't happen, Dobby. Thank you for letting me know, though. At this rate, it may be possible that sometime in the future house-elves can work anywhere they want! You might be able to become Minister for Magic one day, Dobby."
Dobby's huge, green eyes widened in disbelief. "Dobby, Minister for Magic?" He laughed. "Dobby would not want such a place. No, Dobby enjoys working for others. And getting his pay."
Hermione yawned once more. "I should get going back to sleep in my room. Seriously, thank you so much, Dobby. I'll be sure to inform you about any updates in S.P.E.W. You'll be the first to know."
"Dobby is honored, Miss!" Dobby cried. "Sleep well! Will it be okay if Dobby visits another time?"
"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "Anytime."
Dobby's face cracked into a toothy, excited smile before leaving the dormitory, still jumpy at the thought of causing Dumbledore to be left penniless because of Dobby's own wages.
……………………………………….
"We have consent!" Hermione exclaimed, running up to Dumbledore at the staff table in the Great Hall with Ron and Hannah in her wake. She was waving a piece of parchment. "Every house-elf in the kitchens except for Winky signed it! They're signatures aren't completely legible, but that's fine. They're still signatures."
Dumbledore smiled. "And you, Mr Weasley, believed that we could never sway the house-elves decision."
Ron grinned sheepishly, while Hannah giggled at him.
"Professor, does this mean that we can begin fundraising for an actual campaign?" Hermione asked, eagerly.
"A campaign?" Ron moaned. "Come on, Hermione!"
Hermione ignored him, still focusing her attention on Dumbledore. "I figured we could get premises at Diagon Alley. An actual building, though. No little booth like Fred and George's."
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, looking offended. "Their booth is awesome! And their canary creams are always selling out, thank you very much."
"Oh, Ron, you know what I mean." Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It has to look professional. None of us knows what we want to do after Hogwarts anyways, right?"
Ron and Hannah nodded, though neither looked half as eager as Hermione about jumping into the S.P.E.W. business once they graduated Hogwarts.
"Brilliant!" Hermione cried. "This is going to be so amazing! Excuse me, I need to contact the Daily Prophet about available premises! See you!"
Hermione raced off down the steps leading up to the staff table and out the Great Hall door so quickly that Blaise Zabini did not even notice her fly by.
"That girl has gone bonkers, I'm telling you." Ron said, shaking his head disbelievingly.
……………………………….
Hermione made a quick pit stop at her dormitory, only to write a brief letter to the Daily Prophet requesting a building in Diagon Alley. She then rolled up the piece of parchment and darted to the Owlery. Spotting a gorgeous tanned owl, Hermione called it down and began tying the letter to its leg. She then watched it take off into the setting sun, sighing at the thought of how wonderful it would be to just take off like that. Suddenly, another owl came flying towards the Owlery window. It passed Hermione's tanned owl and continued to fly directly towards her. Surely it couldn't be for her. Hermione hardly ever received mail, except for Draco's letter on Valentines Day. But surprisingly, the letter was for her. The now-distinguishable brown barn owl landed on a low branch right in front of Hermione, so that it was easy for her to untie the letter from its leg. Hermione patted its head for a few moments until it lifted its wings and took off, not even wanting a drink of water as a reward for its long flight. Hermione was not too worried about the owl, though. All she wanted to know was who the letter was from. So, she carefully unraveled it and read the scrawled, somewhat-familiar handwriting, growing more and more disgusted with every word that she read.
Yo Hermione,
Long time no talk, eh? I have a surprise for you, babe. You'll be pleased, I can guarantee you that. The big boys coming home. Yup, that's me. Turns out Durmstrang's sick of me or something. Just because I threw a cherry bomb in the toilet while the headmaster was using the bathroom. They have no sense of discipline anymore, honestly. Like I'm depressed or something because they expelled me. Ha! As if. But now I get to see you, sexy. Looking forward to it. Later.
Sexiest Guy Alive
"Oh this is great." Hermione said, sarcastically. "Just fucking great!"
"Yeah, I thought you'd think so."
Hermione shut her eyes, praying to god that she was just having some sort of horrible, terrible nightmare. But Hermione's entire life was a nightmare. Why should things start working out for her now? She opened her eyes, then turned around, dreading what she would come face-to-face with. His hair was the same. The blond highlights stood out so much from the natural brown, but that was what made him so sexy. And yes, he still was sexy. As much of a jerk as he was, he was still sexy. The way he just stood there in the doorframe, his arm above his head resting on the frame with the other hand on his hip. But he was a jerk. Bottom line.
"Well, well, well." Hermione said, piercing him with a glare of disgust. "If it isn't Acelio McGonagall."