Special thanks, always, for these two wonderful betas : Wise_Owl26 and Enchanted4life.
Special hug to the sweetest alpha Angelina who's brain is constantly working to help me.
"I can't believe she's putting us through this," Draco grumbled.
"If you think about it, it's a little less complicated this way," Blaise replied.
They both took a sip of their Firewhisky, swirling it around in their mouths a few times before swallowing.
"Did you pay any attention to what we talked about?" Draco asked as he put down his glass. "About Granger's magic acting out."
Blaise took another sip, looking over his glass at his friend before looking down. "Yeah. A little."
Draco held up his hands in an awaiting motion. "And...?"
"I'm waiting for more evidence."
"What evidence? She's fucking knocking things over!"
"I don't think this kind of magic is super well-known. It takes a lot of focus and precision to ascertain something like that."
"I wish we had a way to... test," Draco sighed. "It's not like we're going to put her through another fucking traumatic experience just to see if her magic will act out."
Blaise shrugged, but kept the thought in mind. A way to test... That's just what he needed. He continued to sip his Firewhisky.
Hermione had arranged to meet them at the Boar's Head, along with Harry, Ron and Ginny. Everyone preferred the Three Broomsticks, but the brunette didn't want to go back there any time soon, even if she was accompanied.
It was the following Saturday, the 7th of November, and darkness was falling on Hogsmeade. She had first made this decision the same night she had bought the watch, and had asked Draco to pass the message on to Blaise, whilst she took care of talking to her three friends. Hermione would have liked to meet them much sooner, but not everyone but Draco could go to Hogsmeade freely during the week. Besides, she preferred the isolation of the village to a table at Hogwarts, close to prying eyes and ears. It was her story, her mystery, and she didn't want everyone to notice that two Slytherins and four Gryffindors were hanging out together.
The door slammed shut and the four Gryffindors rushed into the pub, a gust of cold air creeping up behind them.
"This better be productive," Ginny grumbled as she pulled off her scarf.
The small group made their way to the back booth where Draco and Blaise were already seated facing each other. No one had thought about the awkwardness of deciding where to sit, so everyone froze for a second. They all glanced at each other, half-hateful, half-awkward.
"I don't want Weasel anywhere near me," Draco muttered, pressing himself further against the wall.
"There's only one person you'd let sit there, anyway," Ginny retorted with a mischievous grin.
Hermione sighed loudly before sliding in beside Draco. "We're not going to be here all night, are we? No one has the bloody Spattergroit!"
Ron laughed. Ginny took her place next to Blaise, Harry next to Hermione and Ron next to his sister. For the first time, Ginny felt her cheeks get a little hotter as she found herself very close to Blaise. The latter made no sign of it, but he was suddenly quite aware of their proximity.
As soon as Hermione was beside Draco, his enticing smell overpowered her for a few seconds and she felt her stomach tighten with nervousness. If she looked down, she could see their thighs right next to each other. The feeling of warmth flowing between their bodies heated her.
Draco, for his part, had tensed up as soon as the Lioness had slipped in beside him. Her proximity reminded him of a fresh spring, and her fruity aroma seeped into his nostrils. He breathed her in, surprised that he suddenly wanted to pull her close to him to absorb all of her essence. She smelled of fresh wind, cherry and parchment. He had the urge to stretch his arms over the back of the seat behind her, just to signal his territory.
Harry ordered some Firewhisky and a Butterbeer for Ginny.
"So, are we starting or what?" questioned Draco.
"Well, you've all heard about what's happened to me since the beginning of the year," Hermione said uncomfortably, massaging her hands. It was very strange to be with her friends as well as Blaise and Draco. The image of the booth was unusual. All of them, a blob of red, gold, silver and green, united in the same little space.
"You said MacMiller's initials were on the register," Blaise encouraged her.
"Yes, but those might not be his initials. He's not the only 'DM' out there..." Hermione replied, throwing a look at Draco, who intercepted it and even gave her the shadow of a smile. "But we'd still have to check."
"What do you suggest?" asked Harry.
Hermione paused and looked down, nervous. She knew her plan was bold and wasn't sure her friends would go along with it. "I know where Duncan lives," she declared. "At least where he used to live, before he disappeared. I want to go. I want to go there."
Dramatically, Draco put down his glass and nearly choked on his mouthful. "Certainly not!" he spat.
Harry and Ron looked equally uncertain and alarmed, but Ginny and Blaise looked pensive and remained silent. They didn't know it yet, but they were on the same page.
"You've been attacked three times, Granger," Draco argued sharply, holding up three fingers. "Three fucking times! Isn't that enough?"
"For once I have to agree with Malfoy," Harry grumbled.
"I didn't say I was going alone," Hermione protested.
The Firewhiskys and Butterbeer arrived at that moment, and Hermione almost choked down half of her Whisky glass in an instant. Merlin, she was nervous!
"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Ginny said.
"Are you bloody mental?" snapped Ron, turning to her.
"Careful, Weasley," warned Blaise.
"A bit, yes," she replied with a shrug, which earned Blaise a smile. "Think about it. It's the only lead we have. It's all we can do to find out more."
"The idea is to ask Duncan himself," Harry offered.
"Yeah, but no one has seen him for ages," Blaise cut in, taking a sip of his drink. "Trying to pay him a visit is the only option we have."
"Okay, never mind that bullshit," Draco interrupted. "Let's say we decide to go, let's not think like we're six dumb heads on a stick. We're not going to show up with six people there. And McGonagall certainly won't let us leave the castle at will."
"It's a good thing you're both Heads, then," Ginny smiled. "You have more leaves."
"That's true, but I think we should warn McGonagall anyway," said Hermione. "She won't let us leave in the middle of the week like this. It's not a school matter."
Draco finished his drink and massaged his face, resting his head on the backrest. The brunette slightly tilted her head towards him and had time to observe the angle of his jaw, the length of his fingers, the golden, ashy complexion of his hair. She swallowed her saliva, feeling suddenly warm, and imitated him, finishing her drink in one go.
"And actually," she added, "I wasn't intending on going only with Draco..."
Her blond partner raised his eyes to the sky. Blaise immediately raised his hand. "Well, I'm going, it's non-negotiable. I think my mother's story is connected to this, so there's no way I'm missing that."
Draco frowned and dipped his eyes into the bottom of his empty glass. He, too, was longing for an excellent reason to participate in this 'investigation'. What could he say to justify himself? 'I want to know what's bothering Granger so much'? 'I want to stay as close as possible to make sure nothing happens to her'? He pressed his lips together as he realised that yes, he didn't trust anyone but himself to protect Granger. He was the more skilled and experienced wizard.
"Before we decide who goes and who doesn't, I think we need to know when to—" Ron began.
"Tomorrow," interrupted Hermione. "I want to go tomorrow."
This time Blaise raised his glass as if to make a toast. "Works for me!" he declared, before taking a drink.
"I can't go tomorrow," Harry groaned. "I've got to up my grades since I want to be an Auror. I have to work all day on some assignments."
"Then I guess you can't either, Ron," Hermione said.
"Nope," Ron shook his head blankly, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm behind". Draco felt like letting out a victory cheer inside him. Two less Gryffindors.
"Ginny?" Hermione tried.
The redhead shrugged. "Of course, silly. I'm ahead in every classes and I don't coach tomorrow."
Quidditch hadn't started since yet since the stadium had been burned down. It was now rebuilt, but it had taken some time. Hogwarts would only be able to run half a season, which would start after Christmas. Harry and Ron had dropped out to focus on their studies, while Ginny was now responsible of assisting the future Gryffindor's coach, a sixth year, who would take charge next year.
"I'm ahead too," Hermione smiled.
"So am I," added Draco.
"And me," finished Blaise.
Ginny laughed.
"One thing," Harry said, sounding disgruntled. "I'm not really comfortable with sending Hermione and Ginny to visit a stranger with two Death... Slytherins."
Blaise and Draco both glared at him at the same time, and Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs. Draco wanted to throw his fist in his face. Why, by Salazar's sake, could no one trust two Slytherins? The mark on his arm had no meaning anymore — and never had, for that matter.
"Harry, he's not a stranger," Hermione said. "It's Duncan. I know him well. Besides, I've told you many times before, Blaise and Draco can be trusted. If you don't trust them, trust me."
"Do you trust them?"
The brunette bit her tongue, waiting a few seconds to think. At that moment, she was reliving the unwarranted accusation she'd made against Draco about the watch, and how he'd reacted and gotten over it. She took refuge in the memory of that embrace they had shared, soft and not long enough. She saw Blaise pulling her off the balcony to prevent her from jumping, or holding out his hand to dance with her.
"Yes," she said, her throat almost dry.
She looked at the two Slytherins. Blaise gave her a big, amused grin, and Draco remained completely stoic, but the corners of his lips twitched. His grey eyes were on her and at that moment he had no doubt that she was telling the truth. She trusted him. And he wasn't going to break that bond anytime soon.
"Tomorrow morning I'm meeting with McGonagall," Hermione announced. "And if I have her approval, we'll leave at noon."
"Okay, but how do we get there?" asked Ginny. "We can't apparate from and into the castle."
The Head Girl fell silent and thought, tapping her fingers against the table. "He lives in Penshaw, on Cloverhill Avenue. It's a huge wizarding village, and many of them lives kind of secluded in the woods."
"What do you mean?" asked Blaise. "I've heard of it but I've never been there."
"He's practically living in a forest."
"Creepy, indeed," Draco snorted sarcastically.
"We'll have to apparate from here," Hermione cut in, ignoring his remark, looking at Ginny.
"Are you able to apparate with three other people?" Draco prompted skeptically.
"Yes," she replied immediately.
Draco raised his eyebrows, impressed. He had definitely underestimated his partner.
"Okay, let's recap," Ron said. "In early October, a Hufflepuff student attacked you in a bathroom and said all sorts of things to you."
"This winter there will be revenge," Harry added. "This winter there will be pain. Your time will come."
"That's right," Ron continued. "At the end of October, here in Hogsmeade, a man... attacked you... and told you…"
Draco's knuckles turned white with the tension that gripped him from head to toe. Ginny exchanged a thoughtful look when they noticed how Draco intuitively reacted.
"Your time will come," Harry added. "You know what you've done."
"And this week in Potions class," Ron finished, "your cauldron was cursed or something, you were burned and you heard voices saying..."
"Your time will come," finished Harry. "You know what you are."
Hermione was beginning to sense a growing unease within her. She realised more and more how threatening those words sounded. What had she done? Who was tormenting her like this? Who was taking such pleasure in tormenting her mentally and physically? It was all becoming too real. She'd already made plans to go looking for Duncan while someone, at Hogwarts or nearby, harassed her with occasional attacks. A painful knot tightened in her throat. She wanted to go back to her room right now.
She cleared her throat and motioned for Harry to get up. "Excuse me," she whispered.
She pressed herself against Harry so that he would finally get off the booth and let her through. Draco even tried to hold her back by the hand without thinking about it, but she sped off towards the exit.
"Granger!" Draco called out.
Harry stood looking at the door she had just passed through. Draco remained glued to his seat.
"What just happened?" said Ron, confused. "What did I say?"
"Congratulations, Weasel," Draco grumbled before sliding out of the seat to chase his partner.
No, after three attacks, he certainly wasn't going to let her wander alone, at night, in the same fucking village where she'd been attacked. He rushed outside.
Inside, Blaise looked at the three Gryffindors in turn. "I think she's traumatised," he remarked.
"Who wouldn't be?" muttered Ginny, before sighing heavily. "Poor thing, someone's putting a spell on people and objects to hurt her and repeat those bloody words!"
"I shouldn't have brought it up like it was a math problem..." Ron scolded himself, disappointed. "I'm an idiot."
"It doesn't matter," snapped Blaise. "She won't be alone. Our Malfoy has come to the rescue."
Ginny smirked. Harry returned to his seat, now facing Blaise, and Ron stood up to change sides, sitting next to Harry. "Now what?" said Harry.
"Next round's on me!" Blaise grinned, raising his arm to alert the waiter.
Harry, Ron and Ginny were surprised, but did not argue. Harry and Ron even allowed themselves to feel some sort of appreciation for the smiling, friendly Slytherin who didn't appear to be bothered to be hanging out with them. Blaise, now completely at ease, extended his arm over the booth just behind Ginny, surprised to find that she didn't shift even though she'd noticed him.
Hermione walked headlong towards Hogwarts. She expected someone to follow her, but she didn't know who. It didn't matter to her. She wanted the comfort of her home, her books, her bed. Something familiar. Something safe. A taste of normal.
"Granger!"
The wind whistled in her ears and she didn't hear the voice echo behind her.
"Granger!" Draco was getting closer and closer, walking quickly now. He forgot how she could almost be deaf, or play deaf, when someone was trying to catch her with her from behind. He sighed.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed, louder.
She turned as Draco crossed the last few meters to meet her. They started walking together, side by side.
"You shouldn't decide to go off on your own just like that," the Slytherin scolded.
"I know. I'm sorry." Her tone was monotone and her eyes remained fixed on the ground. Draco had expected... more.
"It's just... I had to get out." She sighed.
Her blond partner frowned as he shoved his hands into his pockets, not sure what to do. There were a million things that came to mind when he thought of her and her story, but now none of them came to his lips. Hermione was quieter and even evasive, looking lost in a maze of thoughts and emotions.
"Are you...alright, Granger?" he asked, unsure of what else to say to her.
"Yes... considering."
The truth was that the idea that her brother's murder, the robbery, and the cryptic messages might have all been committed by one person, or maybe more than one, frightened and upset her. They didn't say another word to each other the rest of the way and finished their walk to Hogwarts with only the rustle of the wind against the tree tops around them.
Flashback.
Sam had left that morning smiling and told his sister that he had a surprise for Angela for her birthday. It was the beginning of summer, one month after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione had rehabilitated her parents' memory and they were back from Australia. Everyone was living their best lives, chasing unique opportunities and crazy experiences. Hermione's brother was always talking about his girlfriend, but she knew it was because he adored her. Literally. They had been through the corruption of the Ministry together. They were still a couple even years after they left Hogwarts. Hermione was happy for them, even if her only 'real' love life hadn't lasted more than a year. That was what being a little sister was all about.
That evening, when Sam came home several hours after dinner, Hermione went to greet him and to find out how Angela had reacted to his gift. Sam did not even look at his sister. His eyes were reddened, his complexion pale and he was shaking. He looked... dirty.
"Are you all right?" worried the brunette.
"Not now, Herm," he replied coldly, and went straight to his room.
He didn't come out of his room all evening. Hermione didn't know what to do. She had never seen her brother so upset. She took out some leftovers from the fridge and began to prepare a plate of her favourite snacks for him. She didn't know if he had eaten. She made him popcorn and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
She knocked on his door, but he did not answer. She opened it, balancing the bowl of popcorn on the plate with the sandwich. "Sam?" she asked, opening the door slowly. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
He was sitting on his bed, stiff and motionless, facing the window. When his sister appeared, he turned sharply towards her, lightning flashing in his eyes. "I TOLD YOU, NOT NOW, HERMIONE!"
Hermione put the plate and bowl down on the dresser, causing the dishes to clink, and glared at her brother. "You can tell me about it, you know!"
"GET OUT!"
"WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT?"
Hermione had never seen him so angry. He jumped to his feet in a sudden movement and crossed the room in two strides, pointing at the door. "GET OUT!" His knuckles were stained with blood.
Hurt, she slammed the door behind her. At times like this, she hated having a brother. She only wanted to be nice. That night Hermione stayed awake, worried. What was wrong with him? She thought his day was going to go well, but apparently it didn't. Then she heard crying. Muffled sobs, moans, painful wails from his room.
It was the first time she had heard her brother cry. She was totally petrified. Something had happened. But Hermione never knew what it was.
He cried all night, and then a few hours before dawn, his sobs disappeared. Only then did she allow herself to fall asleep at last.
Hermione, wrapped in a wool blanket, had been sitting facing the fireplace for a good thirty minutes. She and Draco had separated as soon as they entered their dormitory, the Gryffindor going straight to the sofa facing the fireplace, the Slytherin to his room.
She looked down and saw the watch hanging on her wrist. Immediately a lump filled her throat and she felt a sharp stab through her heart. She had bought the watch for her brother. No one had the right to take it away from him. It belonged to him. In the store, she had felt that this watch should not end up in any other hands than her own. And she had bought it on a whim, just like that, but she didn't regret it. She would always keep this watch.
It was the last thing she had left of her brother. The last one. And it had been fucking stolen and sold. She didn't understand anything, once again. This whole investigation was exhausting her, tormenting her. For one thing, maybe Duncan had signed the sale of the watch. And then she had no idea who the killer was. What if Duncan knew the killer, what if he was an accomplice to the crime? She was asking herself too many absurd questions. What if Sam's death had been…
…a suicide?
It seemed that her life was all about finding the identity of one person, or two, or three, or more. She had no idea. Was the theft connected to the murder? Was the murder connected to the cryptic messages she had received? Too many pieces were missing from the puzzle and she couldn't think straight. Not tonight. She wasn't doing anything. She simply felt helpless, useless.
A tear of frustration escaped her eye and fell onto the blanket. But that was the only one. She missed her brother so much, it was unbearable this evening. She heard footsteps behind her, but did not react. She did nothing as Draco entered her sight and sat beside her, waiting, his eyes looking into the flames.
The witch was overwhelmed. Totally confused. She couldn't take it anymore. Her pain and frustration were unimaginable, but everything was stuck inside her. She felt like an empty shell. She looked down at the watch again, unhooked it and clutched it tightly in her fist.
The Slytherin, with his arms on his knees, turned his gaze to her and saw her hand clutching the watch. From that moment on, he truly realized how much of a burden she was carrying. And for the first time in his life, he felt sympathy for someone else. He was so close to her at that moment, on the chair watching the flames, but yet he felt terribly far away. And he didn't want to be left out. Not now. No anger tinged his thoughts and intentions, all he could feel was the emotional weight of his partner.
"Hermione..." he whispered. "Are you alright?" he repeated for the second time that day.
The brunette shook her head before she could even say the words. "No... No I'm not."
Another orphaned tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. Then she laid her head on her partner's shoulder. Draco was surprised and let the warmth of this intimacy and the exhilarating scent of her hair cascade against him. He felt like twisting one of her curls on his finger, but he didn't.
The Gryffindor felt good next to him. Protected, comfortable, and... natural. They didn't need words to explain themselves, everything was already clear. And that was just fine.
"Crybaby," he murmured quietly.
A slight smile tugged at Hermione's lips. He awkwardly put his arm around her, sarcastically waiting for the self-reproach he was about to give himself. But absolutely nothing came. So he laid his head on hers and locked himself in silence. They spoke no more.
"To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget."
Arundhati Roy