A/N - Aloha, everyone! I'm sooooooo sorry! Not only for being shockingly late, but for ever threatening to stop writing this story! I realised after I put up that notice and everyone beseeched me not to stop that it was very wrong of me; I mean, I can't just leave the story hanging in the air! So, I'm sorry, and I will definitely finish the story. I can't promise quick updates, but, fear not, they will be there. I've been meaning to do this for such a long time, but, what with exams and all sorts of other obligations, I just haven't had the time.
This chappie isn't too exciting, but the next one will be, I promise. So, come back to me, my faithful reviewers - I will not let you down again! Hehe. Go ahead - enjoy!
Chapter 18 – Prologue to Adventure
'An Exotic Engagement: The Malfoys Do It With Class
For all those who are not attending the most awaited social event of the year, you are truly missing out on something. The Malfoys are sparing no expense for their son, Draco's, engagement tonight and it promises to surpass all expectations. With decorations being flown in from France, Italy and Spain, the famous Malfoy ballroom is being decked up to resemble a modern castle…'
Draco put away the newspaper. Forty thousand galleons…forty thousand! He hoped Hermione hadn't read that piece; she wouldn't approve of such extravagance. Personally, Draco didn't either, but, of course, nothing was in his hands. And he had made himself virtually inaccessible to discuss any details of the wedding with his family, giving neutral replies to all their queries and showing a complete lack of interest even in matters directly concerning himself, like his clothes. His mother had brushed his indifference aside as pre-wedding jitters, but his father suspected something more. Draco sighed. It always surprised and annoyed him how well his father knew him.
"Draco?" an anxious female voice broke his train of thought.
He turned around to see his mother rushing into his room. For a moment, he was seriously worried, because she looked so nervous, and he asked, gently, "What's wrong?"
"Everything!" she wrung her hands in despair. "The caterers aren't ready yet and the wizard who was supposed to bewitch the ballroom ceiling has said he can't make it and the statues are all mixed up…"
"Mother," Draco's face was hard and his voice stern. "It's not the end of the world."
"What do you mean, Draco?" she cried. "It's worse! Think of all the people who are coming and what their expectations are…besides, don't you - don't you care?"
He was sorely tempted to say 'no', but he replied, in a calm voice, "Of course I care about my engagement. I'm just not too good with these things, you know."
She looked relieved and smiled. "Of course. Of course you aren't…I'll go talk to your father…don't know why I came to you."
With that she turned and left, leaving Draco to his own reflections. He stared out his window at the cold mist that was slowly covering the world and noted that it was not a good day for an engagement. His mother would take it as a bad sign, he knew, but he didn't think things could get any worse than they already were. How wrong he was, he was not to know until much later.
Meanwhile, at Saffron and Fuchsia, the trio were at work making sense of all that Tubble had told them.
"I think we should speak to Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione. "Or Professor McGonnagall at least.
"They didn't want us to know," said Harry, dryly. "It would be useless speaking to them."
"Harry, they must have…"
"Had their reasons, I know," he replied. "But they always do and we always find out and we always get through it."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that. It was true enough. Ron looked grim.
"I wish they would trust us," Harry continued.
Here, Hermione could argue. "It's not that they don't trust us, Harry, but they don't want to constantly burden us with huge problems. Maybe they think we've had enough," she added, gently.
"But isn't it clear to them that this is our destiny? This is what we were born for! We can never have enough!"
She sighed. "That maybe so, but you can't blame them for caring about us."
He looked unconvinced.
"I'm sure they would have told us eventually."
Harry didn't say anything and Hermione gave up. This was something only Dumbledore could explain to him.
Ron, who had been unusually quiet, then spoke up, "Hermione's right. I think we should talk to them."
"Yes, we must," she grabbed the opportunity. "Do we have time right now?" She glanced at her watch. "It's one-thirty. The engagement starts at six and I think we can just about manage it."
She got up to leave and Ron followed suit, but Harry was still sitting with a sulky expression on his face. "C'mon, Harry," Ron called and finally he got up. Hermione left some money at the counter and they went out.
Diagon Alley was very crowded, even for a Saturday, and it took them some time to get to Harry's apartment. It was already quarter to two and Hermione was getting frantic.
At length they were all ready. They took their places in Harry's living room and were just about to leave, when, in a flash of red, Laetitia appeared.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "Darling, are you going somewhere?"
She looked around and blushed. Clearly, she had forgotten that he had company.
"Yeah, Laetitia, I'm sorry," said Harry, moving closer to her. "We just ran into Tubble at Saffron and Fuschia and we really need to see Professor Dumbledore."
"Professor Dumbledore?" her eyes widened. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes…no…we don't know," Harry replied. "I'm sorry, Lee, but I might not be back in time to pick you up for the engagement."
"Oh," she looked disappointed. "Well…that's all right. I'll come on my own."
She managed to smile, but Harry saw through it. He was with her in two strides and, putting his arms around her, kissed her on the lips.
"I'll make it up to you," he promised.
Laetitia smiled again, this time from pleasure. She nodded and Harry went back to the waiting duo. He flashed Laetitia a smile and the three were off.
Draco, meanwhile, was having a hard time finding a solitary corner in the huge mansion he called home. Every room was taken over and everyone was busy with preparations. No one took the slightest notice of him, the bridegroom – the star of the evening. Draco almost laughed at the sheer irony of it. Finally, he let himself out of the house through a little-known door at the back, and found himself in the open air and freedom of the lawns.
Draco wandered around the sprawling greens, lost in his thoughts and reflections. Soon, he found himself at the gate of a little garden that was somewhat crookedly fenced off from the rest of the lawns. There was a small sign that said, in flashing red letters, 'Draco's Garden – KEEP OFF!' Draco let himself in, breaking the flimsy lock with a wave of his wand. The garden wasn't very large, but it had obviously been tended to very carefully. Bright flowers sprang from the grass and huge willows and oaks stood magnificent upon the ground. Draco remembered planting each and every seed with such passion, such care…the garden had been the joy of his life until he had gone to Hogwarts and begun the long and painful career of fulfilling his parents' dreams. Like everything else, it had gotten neglected and fallen into a state of decay, until the gardener had obtained a thirteen-year-old Draco's permission to look after it and bring it back to life. Draco clenched his fists; he should have looked after it…he should have tended it. Instead, he had forgotten it.
It seemed to Draco many hours before he finally left the garden. When he did, he had somewhat resolved the tangle that had been his mind and was prepared for what he had to do.
Two hours previously, Harry, Hermione and Ron had arrived at Hogwarts only to find Dumbledore out.
"Out!" spat Harry. "What do you mean he's out?"
The house-elf who had been regarding him with misgiving, replied with great dignity, "The Head does not inform me of his whereabouts. He is not answerable to me or to anyone else," he added.
"Where's Professor McGonnagall then?" persisted Harry.
"Professor McGonnagall is currently engaged in some important work and she wished me to inform any visitors that she is not to be disturbed," replied the elf, with increasing dignity and indignation.
"Do you know who I am, elf?" demanded Harry, but Hermione interrupted him, "To be sure, she doesn't wish to be disturbed, but what we have to say to her is of an extremely important nature," she said. "She would like to know about it."
The elf surveyed Hermione critically. Apparently, it could not make up its mind whether this witch was to be trusted or not. Hermione saw it and played her card, "I am Hermione Granger, founder of S.P.A.W. Perhaps you have heard of it?" seeing the elf's eyes widen with dawning respect, Hermione continued, "S.P.A.W. will be sponsoring a campaign for S.P.E.W. and we will require several house-elves to perform various jobs in the campaign. We would be honoured if you would consent to join us."
The elf blushed and stammered something that might be taken for a 'yes'.
Hermione smiled. "Now, Professor McGonnagall…?"
"Yes…yes…of course," the elf replied. "I am sure such persons as yourself are not included in the general terming of 'visitors'. Perhaps the Professor wasn't expecting you…?"
"Oh no," replied Hermione. "You see, we have just received information that it is vital for us to convey to her immediately."
"Of course, of course," said the elf and ushered them towards Professor McGonnagall's study.
The elf, losing courage at the last moment, stopped in front of the door and turned to Hermione. "Perhaps if you knocked…?" it pleaded.
"Oh, of course," she replied. "I don't believe we will require your services any longer."
The elf looked relieved, bowed and left. Hermione turned to the other two. "Well? Shall we?"
Ron looked at her in frank admiration. "Hermione, the way you handled that elf…"
"All you need to do is give them some respect," she dismissed it. "Now, shall we go in?"
Harry nodded and came forward. He rapped smartly on the door two times. After a brief pause, a familiar voice called, "Who is it?"
Ron looked a little nervous, but Harry replied with determination, "It's us, Professor McGonnagall – Harry, Ron and Hermione."
"Harry?" the voice sounded surprised. "Well, come in."
The door opened to reveal the Professor's large, organised study. It was crammed with books and ornaments of all kinds, but they were all meticulously in their places. Professor McGonnagall sat at her desk with a quill in her hand, looking weary. Her face bore evidence of all she had gone through in the past few years. Few people had realised how old she was, but now it was clear that her youth was way behind her.
"Well?" she demanded of the three. Her face might look old, but she was as sharp and formidable as ever.
Something in that gaze made Harry uncomfortable. Hermione took the reins. "Professor, we ran into Tubble today."
The Professor's eyebrows shot up. "And?"
"Erm…well…he told us…things," finished Hermione lamely.
"And?"
Suddenly coming to Professor McGonnagall and demanding an explanation of her didn't seem quite so easy to any of the trio. However, since they had come so far, Harry continued, "He told us about the prophecy."
"The prophecy?" the Professor's expression was undeterminable. "And?"
Again Harry shrank. "Well…we were just wondering…"
"Why weren't we told?" it was Ron who rescued him.
Professor McGonnagall was silent for a full minute. Finally, she sighed and surveyed the three through her glasses. "That is something you will have to learn from Professor Dumbledore. I cannot answer for him."
"But he's not here," protested Harry.
"Then you will have to wait," replied the Professor. "However, since you do know about the prophecy now, I may as well tell you where we stand."
Since they hadn't been asked to sit, the three stood to attention.
"It is, indeed, true that the prophecy is being fulfilled," said the Professor. "The death-eaters in Scotland are coming to power and, if we are to stop them, we must do it now."
"Of course we have to stop them," said Hermione. "What must we do?"
Professor McGonnagall sighed again. "Professor Dumbledore has not told me yet. He is still deciding on the best plan of action," she replied. "For now, there is not much you can do. We must wait for the Professor to issue his orders."
"But there must be something we can do!" exclaimed Harry.
"Well, for now, you can attend the Malfoy engagement," said the Professor. "Find out what you can over there; it may be crucial."
Harry and Ron nodded. Hermione remained silent.
"It is three-thirty now, so you'd best be going," said Professor McGonnagall. "I have a lot of work to do. I will inform you when Professor Dumbledore has told me what we are to do."
The three turned to leave, when the Professor said, "Oh Hermione…I'd like a word with you, please."
Harry and Ron looked surprised, but went out of the study. Hermione turned back and took a chair with apprehension.
"Hermione, my dear, why do you look so blue?" asked Professor McGonnagall.
Hermione sat still, not knowing what to say. She wasn't sure she wanted Professor McGonnagall to know about her and Draco.
"Remember, all of us at Hogwarts are always willing to help you out."
Hermione looked at her gratefully, but said nothing again.
"You are a very extraordinary witch, Hermione," the Professor said. "And you were not born to lead an ordinary life. You are one of those few people who have the power and the courage to make a difference, to do something great. You have greatness in you, my child."
The Professor paused and looked at Hermione. "With greatness, you have always been told, come courage, danger and sacrifice. But you must know also that, with greatness, comes love. Compassion, wisdom, hope…these are not things to be disregarded; they are the greatest gifts anyone can possess. With them, you have everything. Without them, you have nothing."
Hermione looked at the Professor and she nodded in an understanding way. "I know that life isn't always easy; choices are difficult. But trust your heart, Hermione. It will never lead you the wrong way."
The Professor picked up the sheet of parchment she had been writing on before the trio had invaded her study. "That is all I have to say. Also, you may have to go to Scotland. Professor Dumbledore hasn't said so yet, but I have a fair idea it is what we might have to do."
Hermione nodded and got up to leave. She said, "Thank you, Professor McGonnagall. I…I'll remember."
The Professor nodded and Hermione left. She found Harry and Ron waiting for her.
"What was that all about?" asked Ron.
"Nothing," she replied. "Professor McGonnagall thinks we may have to go to Scotland."
"I thought so," said Harry. "What should we do now?"
Hermione looked at her watch. It was almost four.
"We should probably go back and get ready for the party," she replied. "Harry, you can pick up Laetitia."
He nodded and, once again, the three appeared in Harry's living room and dispersed to various rooms to change.
In her room, Hermione was thinking over her interview with Professor McGonnagall. She was certain the Professor either knew or suspected what was going on; though how she did, Hermione couldn't say. As she put on her gown, Hermione tried to recall the Professor's words in the context of Draco's engagement. How could Hermione follow her heart? Her heart would lead her to do something outrageous, like run away with Draco, and she couldn't possibly do that. She kept pondering it and couldn't come to any logical conclusion. Finally, she let it be and surveyed herself in the mirror.
Today, whatever else might happen, Draco would certainly eat his heart out. If nothing else, Hermione was determined to look nice. She had set off her good looks to the best advantage and the result was exquisite. The deep red of her gown was perfect with her brown eyes and chestnut curls, which were swept up, with just a few wavy strands framing her face. At her throat was a cluster of diamonds and similar drops adorned her ears. Her lips were reddish-pink and there was a faint flush of rouge on her cheeks. Hermione smiled in spite of herself at the vision she created. Satisfied, she picked up her clutch and left the room.
She found Ron waiting for her, Harry having left early to pick up Laetitia. Ron gaped when he saw her.
"Hermione…" he gasped. "You actually look pretty!"
Hermione laughed, ignoring this compliment-insult, and took his arm.
"Let's go."