Sorry for the layout of this chapter. I really tried my best but FF has its limits...
Special thanks to my betas, once again : Wise_Owl26 and enchanted4life
Special thanks to my alpha : Angelina
Those 3 are amaziiiing.
Draco Malfoy had just said goodbye to his partner as she left with her mates for the Ministry. As soon as she disappeared, the room filled with a tremendous emptiness. He still had some time before he met his mother, so he decided to move to the living room and do some reading. Why not? He took a seat and sank into the cushions, but never began his reading. He wondered when she would return. What information had she learned? In what condition? His thoughts swirled.
What if she was attacked? What if Harry and Ron came back without her, with red tearful eyes? What if the Author of the letter found her? What if she was gone before he could say goodbye?
A dreadful ache gripped his heart and the flames from the fireplace leapt into the chimney, sending a hot blast through the living room.
Your magic, Draco. Your magic.
He took long breaths through his nose. Nervously, without realising it, he grabbed his quill and started doodling nonsense on a blank parchment.
Control yourself. You'll be fine.
Breathe in. The flames lost their momentum,but continued to move furiously. He kept on doodling absentmindedly. Breathe out.
Nothing will happen to her.
The fire returned to its original form and crackled gently. Breathe in. He focused on his parchment and noticed that he had begun to trace the outline of a thick, curly head of hair. He paused, quill hanging over the paper. She'll be back. He put down the tip of his quill and began to draw again. This time he sketched more precisely the shape of a face, of the eyes, of the lips. Breathe out.
"Get your facts straight. My sister died last summer."
Ivana slammed the door in their dumbfounded faces.
"What?" Hermione gasped, staring at the closed door in front of them.
"This is some kind of joke," Ron said.
"I don't think so," Harry replied.
Ron's bewildered smile froze into a horrified grin.
"What the hell is going on?" exclaimed Hermione. She clutched her temples and massaged them vigorously, frowning. But how did that happen? When exactly was this? At the same time as her brother? Before? After? How did it happen? A bad fall? A spell? Ah, bloody hell! She needed answers.
"This is incredibly frustrating," Harry grumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, you bet," Ron replied and kicked the brick wall, causing him to grimace in pain. "So what do we do now?"
Hermione let her hands fall back, stuffed them into her pockets and lifted her head, shaking it from side to side in disappointment:
"We need to know more, we have to. We can't just leave."
"Look, maybe she shut the door on us because she doesn't know us," said Ron.
"Actually, I got the impression that she knew us all," Hermione grumbled. "She called me 'the golden girl'."
"So… we try again?" Harry asked, awkward.
"Do the honours," the brunette said.
Harry knocked on the door. Ivana opened it again in a few seconds, as if she had never left. She sighed, then frowned. "I have nothing to say to you."
She was about to close the door, but Ron stuck his foot in the frame.
"We, on the other hand, have something to tell you," intervened Hermione. "Firstly, I'm really sorry about Angela. She was your sister, wasn't she? Please, can we talk to you? We really need some answers..."
Ivana glared at them, pursing her lips.
"We don't bite," Harry said, a smile on his face. "We understand that this is a weird situation..."
"Well, fine!" the raven-haired woman relented exasperatedly. "As if I have a choice."
She stepped back from the doorway to let them pass one by one, closing the door behind them. She had the golden trio in her house. Her wand was in her back pocket, ready to be grabbed at any second.
The three Gryffindors took off their scarves and small coats, holding them in their hands, noticing that Ivana was not offering to grab them.
"Let's just go to the living room, since you want to talk so bad."
"Okay, that's kind of you," Harry thanked her, and they followed the young woman to another room.
The living room was decorated in antique style, which gave it a totally splendid charm. An old dresser stood in front of the window, with large, long brown and green curtains touching the floor. The walls were beige, and a plush sofa faced the window, while another had its back to it. Between the two was a small glass table.
"Lovely house," Hermione complimented politely, hoping to relieve some of the tension.
"Don't bother trying," Ivana grumbled sternly.
Hermione's blood rushed to her cheeks once again. Why was Ivana so hateful to her? She felt like she was talking to Draco Malfoy before he was Head Boy. The trio moved to the armchair that faced the window, as Ivana sat across from them on the other sofa, crossing her legs. She sat stiffly, her back straight, her hands crossed on one knee. Her blue eyes were sharp, distant, and filled with anger.
"Go ahead," she grumbled. "Bring me your questions."
Hermione bit the inside of her cheeks. "Can you tell us... what happened?"
She knew how difficult it could be to talk about the death of someone you loved. She wasn't trying to rattle Ivana, who was visibly bothered by their presence, but she wanted to get some information.
Ivana glared at Hermione. "Haven't you read the Daily Prophet?"
"N…No... I stopped reading after my brother died. "
"She died first," she hissed.
Hermione swallowed. She wanted to offer support to this woman who seemed to be in great pain over the loss of her sister. She wanted to tell her that she could shout at her if she wanted to and if she thought it would help. That she could cry without any shame.
"I would have thought your stupid brother knew about this," Ivana added. "Or told you about it."
The brunette, confused and hurt, shook her head in bewilderment. She couldn't accept Ivana talking about her brother like that, but she refused to leave until she had some answers. She searched her memory for a significant moment when Angela might have died. During the Battle? Where was she? Where was she working? Why hadn't Sam told her? Unless he never knew...
"Can you tell us any details?" asked Hermione.
"I was away with dad that day. It was her birthday. We decided to get her a Bengal cat, which are quite rare around here. A stupid Muggle woman had a cattery, and we had to go and get it. When we came back home, she was gone."
Ron looked around discreetly. There was no sign of a cat. Nor of the father.
"It happened on June 2nd," continued Ivana.
"A month after the Battle?" breathed Harry.
Ivana nodded. There's only one thing you can do to end this..., she thought.
"So she went missing?" Ron asked.
"Yes. It was some bloody Muggle dogs who found her days later. She was in a woodland. There was no mark on her. So it was deemed that she had received the Killing Curse."
Hermione let out a horrified little exclamation. "I'm so sorry, Ivana."
The young woman suddenly jumped to her feet. "I didn't offer you tea. Would you like some? I'll make you some."
She left the room at once. You only have to do one thing. Once in the kitchen, she drew her wand and filled the teapot. Why wait for winter? She put the teapot on the stove. Her hands were shaking. She had to act quickly.
When Ivana disappeared from the room, Ron whistled and Harry frowned, putting his hand on Hermione's arm.
"Hermione, I don't think we should stay any longer," he muttered.
"Yeah, I don't like her vibe," Ron muttered.
"But we need to know more about Angela!" Hermione huffed softly, her heart pounding against her chest.
Her ribs felt tight from stress. She couldn't understand why Ivana was so clearly angry with her, and even why she was showing a certain animosity towards her brother. A bad feeling churned in her stomach. Could it be that Ivana...? A cold feeling fell on her shoulders and chilled her blood. We've never met. I've only done one of these things. It's up to you to find out which one.
Panic settled in the pit of her stomach. She automatically thought of Draco. She had to act quickly.
"Accio letters from Angela!" she whispered, wand out.
Soon, understanding their friend's intentions, the two boys drew their wands as well and began to call out anything that might give them answers.
"Accio Angela's wand!" Ron called in a low voice.
"Accio Angela's diary!"
There was a slight vibration and a few seconds later a small blue leather-covered book flew out and landed in Hermione's hands. A diary? Really? In the kitchen they could hear the teapot whistling and spoons clinking. The brunette flipped through the paper quickly.
"We can't wait any longer," Harry urged. "That'll have to do."
"But—"
"Hermione, we're in danger, I can feel it! 'Let's get out of here!"
He took hold of Hermione's hand and held out his arm to Ron. He apparated them to a crowded muggle city center. When Ivana heard a loud plop from the living room, she swore. Tray in hand, she hurried to the living room and found it empty. She placed the tray on the small table and grabbed the china cups. One by one she hurled them across the room, screaming with all her might. They shattered against the walls.
Ivana fell to her knees, weeping with rage and despair.
In the city center, Harry released his friends' hands. They put their coats back on since they hadn't had time at Ivana's house.
"Well, that was—" Ron began.
"I don't understand," Hermione whispered.
"Let's relax a bit," Harry said. "I didn't want her to follow us."
"I have to go to Gringotts," said Hermione.
"Let's get a coffee," Harry suggested. "We can go to Diagon Alley after."
They headed for a muggle café. It was late afternoon; they had time to sit down before returning to Hogwarts for dinner. In a similar way as in Hogsmeade, Hermione's eyes were drawn to a small object in a shop window. She stopped and examined it. Harry immediately followed suit and Ron stopped a few steps away.
The brunette rushed into the shop. Without really thinking about it further, she bought the object with her muggle credit card. She didn't know what she was going to do with it, but she knew she had to have it. She returned to the boys only a few minutes later.
"O-kayyy...," said Ron. "What's that?"
"A watch," she muttered.
They started walking again. Ron shoved his hands into his pockets. "You know, Hermione, I still don't understand why you let Draco get so involved in this."
The brunette rolled her eyes. She didn't like having to explain herself. Harry remained silent, lips pursed.
"He wants to help as much as you do, Ron!" she bit back.
"But he's Malfoy," he grumbled. "I feel like he'll always have an evil motive in the back of his head for anything."
They reached the front of the café and Harry opened the door, holding it open to let his two friends through before rushing in after them.
"I just want to give him the chance to be a better person," Hermione replied.
They chose a table and put down their coats and scarves.
"Well, I gotta hit the loo," Ron announced. He slipped away and Harry and Hermione took their seats.
"Hermione, I know," Harry finally said. "I saw what you bought."
"You know what?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
"I know there's more between you and Malfoy than you're letting on."
Hermione opened her mouth, but Harry interrupted her gently. "I don't need you to admit it to me, actually," he said. "I think you two have almost... a good connection. You look at him differently from the others."
"Differently? But—"
"Hermione, I don't mind," smiled Harry. "Show me what you've bought."
Without protesting, the Lioness took the watch out of her little bag and showed it to him. Harry's face lit up with an amused look.
"Well, for whom did you buy that lovely little thing?" he smirked.
"N-No one! There was something about it that I liked straight away. It wasn't too expensive and—"
"Just look at it, Hermione. Doesn't it remind you of anything?"
The brunette witch looked down at the small object and examined it again, this time more slowly. It wasn't a battery-operated watch. It was black stainless steel, and behind the green needles was a silver snake. The strap was glossier than the rest.
She understood what Harry was thinking. She bit her lower lip and put the watch back in her bag, just as Ron returned to the table. They ordered coffees and Hermione placed the blue diary on the table in front of them.
"Shall we? she said.
She turned the cover over. At first there was only a blank page, yellowed and a little torn. She turned the next page, Harry's and Ron's heads closer to hers to get a better look at the pages.
March 16th, 1996
Dear Diary,
I'm sick of History of Magic! Argh! Why doesn't Binns talk in a more lively way?
I have to go to bed, it's late and I have an exam tomorrow!
Frowning, Hermione turned the page. Well, this was boring. The waiter brought them their coffee and they each took a warming sip.
March 23rd, 1996
Dear Diary,
I have been dating Sam since October. He started his job at the Ministry last fall. I miss him. We manage to meet up sometimes in Hogsmeade. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met. I love him so much, and I think it's mutual. At least, I hope so. I don't want to lose him, he is dear to me and he knows everything about me as much as I know about him. I hope I never have to face a break-up, it would kill me. But I can't get the face of that stranger I met in the corridors out of my head... I'll tell you about it later, I'm really tired.
P:S- During my Potions class, Snape stuck his finger up his nose.
Hermione had suddenly felt calmer when she realised how much Angela cared for her brother. With her thumb and forefinger, she turned the page.
April 3, 1996
Dear Diary,
Oh my God, I don't know what's happening to me! I'm completely losing my mind over another boy! His name is Duncan, and he's Prefect of Ravenclaw. How could I think such a thing when I already have a boyfriend?! Don't tell me I'm infatuated with someone else, or I'll slap myself hard!
...
Well, I have slapped myself, it's painful, but it's done. I'll have to live with the uncertainty because I think this was "love" at first sight. And not just with anyone... with Duncan. I love Sam and I don't want to jeopardize our relationship.
P.S.- I hate Umbridge, what a bitch!
They quickly flipped through the next few pages, seeing nothing of interest, and then made their choice a little further on.
April 17th, 1996
Dear Diary,
It's my last year here. Why is Duncan still hanging out with Hermione? I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. Yes, of course, I still spend a lot of time with Sam and I can admit that it's possible to love two people at the same time.
P:S- I've been chatting to Jenna Brooks and she's just confessed to being in love with Flitwick.
April 23rd, 1996
Dear Diary,
I am so ashamed of myself that I don't want to get out of bed. Just an hour ago I kissed Duncan. We talked and talked and talked for hours, getting to know each other. And he kissed me goodbye. That was it.
It's nothing to be proud of, is it? I don't think I was designed for this kind of situation, i'm so confused and embarrassed. My heart is torn. Broken. Unsure of two choices. Or three. Sam, Duncan... or both?
P.S.- I'm under a lot of stress about my NEWTs. Merlin, if you're reading this, help me.
Hermione and her friends looked up. The brunette felt her anger bubbling up in her head.
"Both?" she cried in frustration.
Harry and Ron took another sip of coffee, but Hermione was too focused to care about her cooling beverage.
May 16th, 1996
Dear Diary,
Duncan is being distant, and I don't know why. Sam is very busy at the Ministry so we don't get to see each other often. I feel lonely. I give Duncan the space he needs, but I wonder what's going on. His eyes are sadder. His face is constantly stretched out. And sometimes he gets mad at me and I don't even know why.
P.S.- Jenna stole my quill. I'll steal her assignment.
June 13th, 1996
Dear Diary,
Woah, school is ending very soon! I'VE PASSED MY NEWTS! I don't want to dump Sam. I love him. My opinion of him hasn't changed, despite everything Duncan says about him. He thinks I don't love him anymore.
It's hard to keep pretending everything is fine when Duncan is slipping away more and more every day. I feel like I'm going to lose him soon.
Hermione frowned. She felt like they were getting closer to the goal.
June 17th, 1996
Dear Diary,
UMBRIDGE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY CENTAURS! FINALLY!
SO LONG, BITCH.
"At least we shared an enemy," Harry muttered.
June 20th 1996
Dear Diary,
Hermione and her gang have gone to the Ministry and some terrible things have happened there. I don't have many details, but it was Sam who wrote to me. You-Know-Who is really back...
Duncan hasn't eaten all day.
What's going on?
June 22nd 1996
Dear Diary,
I GRADUATED.
Duncan dumped Hermione today. I saw it with my own eyes. He was despicable. Part of me couldn't help but feel relieved.
"Are you alright?" asked Ron to Hermione.
"Everything's under control," assured the pretty brunette. "I just... I need to know more."
She needed to read more. She turned the pages madly, lingering roughly on a few lines to try to catch a glimpse of something interesting. As time went on, the dates of the diary entries became more and more spaced out.
July 7th 1996
Dear Diary,
I wrote to Duncan, but he didn't answer me. I don't understand what's going on. Where is he?
Hermione flipped through other pages where Angela told of her happy days with Sam. She confided about the fear she felt about Voldemort's return. She was a Pureblood and wasn't afraid of being eliminated, but she was afraid for her close ones. For Sam. She was looking forward to starting her job as a specialised Elixir Maker for Women.
September 26th, 1996
Dear Diary,
I haven't heard from Duncan in three months. It's as if he's disappeared completely. Death Eaters have been terrorizing London and killing Muggles. Sam keeps telling me we'll get through this. I'd like to believe him.
Hermione turned several more pages.
June 19th, 1997
Dear Diary,
Duncan's been missing for a year. He never wrote back to me. I dare to believe he's dead. Too bad. I don't want him anymore. I can assure you that we have time to let go of someone when they ignore us or disappear for a whole year.
I heard today that Dumbledore has died...
My anxiety keeps me awake at night.
The Gryffindor looked up and finally decided to take a few sips of her now lukewarm coffee. Harry was still staring at the open diary in front of him, lips pursed. Dumbledore's death still saddened him.
Going through the next few pages, according to the dates, Hermione deemed what was relevant to skip and what was not. The next few pages had been written while Harry, Ron and Hermione were hunting for Horcruxes. Angela confided a few moments to her diary, admitting her anxiety about Voldemort's regime, but all the comfort and happiness that Sam brought her. She had never mentioned Duncan again.
The penultimate entry was from May 2nd 1998, when she briefly described the end of the Final Battle and how she felt a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. She had been in constant fear of losing Sam, her sister or her father. She felt transformed and longed to become better.
"What does the last page say?"
Hermione turned the page. All the pages were blank after this one.
June 2nd, 1998
Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday! And I am 21 years old! I'm excited! I write so fast that I don't really bother to pay attention to my writing anymore! Sam has a surprise for me. He's coming to see me after his work. I feel like the big P-moment is coming for us. And I know my answer would be yes, if it was. But I have to be honest with him. He deserves to know about my history with Duncan, right? Today, Iva and Dad are gone all day, so we can have some cozy alone time.
I'll see you later.
Hermione wrinkled her nose and closed the diary. She felt that the missing piece was right there in front of her, but she couldn't quite grasp it. Sam has a surprise for me. She opened the diary again and read the last page again. June 2nd 1998. The day she died. The piece became clearer and the answer became a little sharper. When Samuel returned that evening, he did not even look at his sister. His eyes were reddened, his complexion pale and he was shaking. He looked... dirty.
The Lioness choked on her coffee. "Oh, my God!"
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.
"He knew!" she exclaimed, holding a trembling hand to her mouth to hide her shock.
The missing piece was there, huge and crystal clear. He cried all night, and then a few hours before dawn, his sobs disappeared. That mysterious evening finally made sense.
"What are you talking about, Hermione?"
"He knew," said the brunette. 'On June 2nd, Sam went to deliver his present to her. He came back completely upset. I've never seen him like this before. He never mentioned Angela to me that night. He knew..."
Hermione looked up at her friends in horror. "Guys... Sam knew that Angela had died that night. I'd dare say he even knew who did it."
Ron's jaw dropped.
"Some people are in such utter darkness that they will burn you just to see a light. Try not to take it personally."
Kamand Kojouri